My weight has shot up since I've been taking T-fen. I've been plugging along with all my usual practices, I assure you that I didn't suddenly add butter-smeared Doritos to my daily diet, and in fact I was exercising more than I usually do in the winter, since the one-mile treadmill walk has so much more appeal than the two-mile — and yet, I am almost 10 pounds over my new set point and that scale doesn't budge, even after zumba and a hot bath. I don't even get my Xanadu weight!! Incredibly frustrating.
It puts me in mind of an interesting article I've been hoarding, about a heavyish woman who's decided to stop hating her body and accept that she will always be big — since her lifelong efforts to lose her extra 35 pounds and keep them off have been a complete failure. Here's my favorite quote from her piece:
Nothing I've done this painstakingly in my whole life has yielded so little payoff.Boy do I hear that.
She is a smart lady and she's done her research — leading her to the conclusion that there is no future in which she loses weight and it stays lost. And of course, her first response to this realization is despair — she puts her head on her desk, and "it stays there for an hour."
But then she begins thinking about all the things she hasn't done in her past because she thought she was too fat — skipping a particular dance, hiding from the family picture, etc. And like many of us, she looks at pictures of her younger self and thinks, "Why on earth did I think I was too big? I'm adorable!!!"
Which finally, finally, brings her to the place of deciding to stop tossing away her perfectly good life. She vows to buy clothes she loves, find a supportive doctor, do exercise she likes and that makes her feel good, and to avoid people and situations that make her feel bad about her weight — including the mean things she says about herself.
Though I'm not ready to declare that weight loss is impossible for me (though it sure seems like it lately), I am totally behind all the above and in fact have been preaching it for years. Be fat, be thin, it matters not. Be a good person and love yourself —that's what it's all about.
But as I slog through my days, feeling heavy and ungainly, it is very hard to lose the sense of having the word "FAILURE" stamped on my forehead.
And also: After taking my nice treadmill walk on Monday (and lifting my weights and working my core — look how good I am! pin a medal on me already!), I seem to have injured my knee — my poor arthritic knee that already wasn't in the best of shape. And I spent two days taking it a little easy (but not really), and it didn't get any better. In fact, I am hobbling around moaning like a deeply crippled nonagenarian.
I am devoting today to healing my knee in earnest: rest, ice, elevation, Motrin.
But I am also going to note this: Swollen legs are a side effect of T-fen.
I'm going to have such an interesting chat with my prevention doc next week! Given how dramatically T-fen has affected my quality of life thus far, is it really worth it to stick it out for five years — given that I don't actually have cancer???
So, yeah, the weight stuff is bad and frustrating. And I hate not being able to do zumba, and I hate contemplating the fact that zumba might be over for me — at least until I get a new knee. And there are other pesky numbers complicating my life at this time:
- Bills, bills, bills, and yet little editing work (though I do have three big jobs coming up, yay!): I know I've been saying this for months, but the situation is now dire: I need to bite the bullet, confront my fear, and start substitute teaching already! The first day will be the hardest (as there is no training and little guidance provided), but it won't kill me — and every day after that will be easier. And it's sure, steady money — I can work as much or as little as I want. Oh, but I am scared.
- Dates and phone numbers: I keep calling our church Office Manager to get my events on our church calendar, and she refuses to call me back. (She doesn't respond to e-mail either; someone told me I'd have better luck with a phone call.) We don't need to fire another church staff member right now, we're still reeling from the loss of the Music Director, but this is really pissing me off.
- Outstanding money: Once again, Husband is owed thousands of dollars from his employer and it has yet to materialize. I don't know how or why we get into this situation so often.
OK — here's some good number news! Last week I had my yearly physical (love my new doctor — she's 16 years old and very stylish and gorgeous, kind of like Freida Pinto's jazzy younger sister) and this week I took a fasting blood test. My cholesterol level at first freaked me out: 203! when a healthy level tops at 199!
I've never had high cholesterol before, and this was quite alarming!
But then I took a closer look. Your total cholesterol number comprises the total of your "bad" cholesterol and your "good" cholesterol. A good "good" cholesterol number is 40. A really good "good" cholesterol number is 60.
Mine is . . . 88. !!!!!!!!!
My doctor wrote me a love note! "Keep doing exactly what you're doing," she said. I should probably frame it.
Weight be damned — if my thyroid and blood pressure and cholesterol numbers are excellent, I am a healthy girl.
And I will take those numbers to the bank!
(Which . . . is really all I have to take to the bank, but let's not go there again.)
Off to Good Neighbor Anne's to drink coffee and eat banana bread with the Sleek Suburban Moms. Another storm is coming, we must pick up our cherubs at 11:15. The schools will be a mob scene. Best to fortify ourselves with something warm and good talk first.
And then I'll rest and elevate my leg. Promise!
— Lady C, ready to heal