Tag: health

Hello Again…

A few weeks ago I was sitting in my bedroom thinking about writing when I began thinking about my blog. I pulled it up on my phone through the app and I was looking when I last posted. To my surprise, I realized I hadn’t wrote anything since December 2019. Yes! Seriously! I didn’t write a single post in 2020.

How did I go a complete year without writing anything?

I also realized, not only did I not write a post in this, but I didn’t write anything. Barely read anything && I barely found myself cooking. My three loves! Tossed to the side like a red-headed step-child. Today, while I was doing my taxes, I pulled this back up (on my laptop, this time) && decided I needed to write something. Even if it’s nothing special. About nothing. Just anything. I needed to stop by && say hello && make sure everyone knows that I am still alive.

2020 was a rough year for everyone but for me it seems 2021 is going to be the worse year of my life. Well, maybe not the whole year – I still have time for it to get better. But February of 2021, that month – that’s the one I’ll probably remember the rest of my life – what of I will have left, anyway. Okay, I shouldn’t talk like that. I should be optimistic and be happy – but right now, I’m scared && scared.

I have been ditching the doctor, not because I don’t want to go, or didn’t want to hear what they had to say. I just didn’t want to deal with it. Well, the last few weeks of January, and the early weeks of February, I just wasn’t feeling well. I chalked it up to having bronchitis, because I get it around this time of the year. But with bronchitis, I usually have a cough which I didn’t this time. I waited three weeks before I broke down && went to the doctor. Symptoms? Trouble breathing, dizzy, unable to sleep, but exhausted all the time, a feeling – when I walked – that someone was airing up my head and chest with air – then add puking, swollen legs, and just an utter feeling of crap. That was me for three weeks.

The day I finally made the doctor is the day I think it hit me that something was wrong. It was around 8 in the morning, I was trying to sleep, but I was woke up by the fact I couldn’t breathe. I got up and struggled to the restroom – when I say I struggled, I mean it. My restroom is connected to my bedroom && my bed is probably, maybe, fifty feet from the toilet. I got up from bed, walked a few steps && had to stop, because I couldn’t breathe. When I finally made it to the toilet I sat and had to breathe – I felt like a 75 year old smoker with COPD && not using their oxygen. I sat there and breathed but even sitting I was having trouble catching my breath.

I was scared. I didn’t know what was wrong but I KNEW something wasn’t right. I called the doctor && made an appointment. They said they could get me in that day around 11 in the morning && I said that was good and I would be there. Boyfriend && I drove up to the clinic – && with COViD so bad, he wasn’t able to go back into the room with me. So now I’m alone – scared, worried…. alone.

They did blood work, a COViD test (which at this point in time I had already taken this test three times at work, all with negative results), x-rays, and even gave me an IV with fluids. First they informed me that my blood sugar is over 450 which even people without diabetes knows that is bad. That’s followed by them telling me my blood pressure is at stroke level (which is what the IV of fluids is for). They go out and leave me a lone for alone for a bit, discussing what’s next. When the doctor finally came back in (which, by the way, I went to high school with this doctor && I still feel like we are too young to be doctors) && said that may have to put me in the hospital. She wanted to do one more blood test, && if it comes back the way she was thinking, I will be hospitalized.

I am in ketoacidosis.

The drive to Denton, Texas seemed extremely long (it’s only 45 minutes) when you’re being told that you have fluid around your heart and your staring down the barrel nothing but bad news. That’s all it was. Bad news after bad news. The only thing the doctor kept saying is “this isn’t a death sentence”. But in my panic attack world, it was. It was her telling me that I messed up and now I’m paying.

The truth is, seven years ago I started seeing a doctor when I was just not feeling well. I didn’t feel “bad”, but I off. Like something was wrong, but I couldn’t pin point it. He diagnosed me with high blood pressure, and “on-set” diabetes. He never, through the years, ever just bluntly said I have diabetes. He gave me medication for both which I took daily just like I was supposed to. As the years passed, however, I eventually stopped. Not because I didn’t think I needed it, but because at one point my medicine changed per the pharmacy and afterwards, it made me sick. I’m talking SICK-SICK – puking, not feeling well, not being able to do daily things && always sleeping. I eventually just stopped taking the medicine because I felt better without it. Yes, seriously, I felt better with stroke level blood pressure and blood sugar in the 400’s than taking the medicine. I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s the truth.

Once in Denton (I live in a small Oklahoma town, the doctor said that she didn’t want me in this hospital because Denton can give me better treatment and that I would do better there) we enter through the emergency room, I can’t breathe so I can’t talk and I’m trying to explain what’s going on. I’m standing there along holding an envelope with my records in it, and I can’t breathe/talk. Everyone is confused but I’m able to get enough out for them to understand what I’m needing. They go through the paperwork in the envelope and get me into a triage room. They start doing the same tests again, && I would like to point out that once again I’m tested for COViD && it’s negative. (I am tired of people raping my nose.)

I’m finally left alone in the little triage room with my thoughts, which is never a good thing. It’s how I sink into panic attacks && I had already had multiple before this. I start crying. At this point, I’m just wanting Boyfriend but he cannot come in. (Stupid COViD.) All I’m left with it my phone, which Boyfriend was sitting in the car, texting me. But I wanted him. This is making the tears && panic attack worse.

My panic attacks are usually mind controlled. I don’t know, other people’s might be too, but mine are caused my horrible thoughts. When I sink into a panic attack, I can usually be calmed down by conversations with people who I am close with. Mainly the Boyfriend && the Brother. The two of them can fix my mind by making jokes, or just changing the subject. They’ll talk me through it && I sat in the triage room alone and neither of them there to calm my nerves.

After about thirty minutes I finally tell the boyfriend to go home, that he can come back later after I am given a room – so he dropped off a bag and went home. Once I stopped the blubbering I find the remote and start flipping through the channels – I’m trying everything to calm myself. I needed to look into the future and realize that whatever they say I am going to be able to fight through it and come out better on the other side. (I know this now, then? Not so much.)

I stayed in the hospital for a week, not a long time. But in that time they took CTS scans, pictures of my heart, kidneys, bladder. I watched a lot of Friends, the Golden Girls, Diners, Drive In’s & Dives && Spongebob. In the end, after all of the tests, I’m told that I have kidney damage, && my heart beats way too slow which of course they call heart failure. Basically, my heart is supposed to beat between 50 & 75 per minute, mine – beats around 35. They readjust my medicine && give me a pill to assist my heart in beating.

I have been calling my heart sad. Which, if it’s possible for a heart to be sad, I could see mine being sad. Through everything I’ve faced in my life, I could see my heart feeling a little blue. So much death – sadness – uncontrollable things.

Basically, it’s been rough the last few weeks. A lot of changes && I can honestly say the hardest one is probably the liquid restriction I’m on. The heart doctor wants me to drink 1.5 liters or less a day. This is fine for some, but when I was drinking up to 7 gallons a day, it’s hard. Plus, I legitimately LOVE the taste of water. But the reason they want me to drink less is because my heart doesn’t beat properly && it’s not pumping the fluid out. && yes, you did read that right. I was drinking nearly seven gallons of water a day. && yes, I realize that is a lot of water. I didn’t realize I was drinking that much, but as I think about it I can see it. Why was I drinking that much? Every time I went to the doctor I was always told that I’m dehydrated && need to drink more water. I usually told them “if I drink anymore water, I’m going to drown myself”. At the time, I was always kidding, but I always added more water. I didn’t think much about it.

I basically – almost – drown myself.

I feel, right now, this may be enough words. I feel like I have been rambling on & on, && this post has goten a little big. So if you’ve made it this far, congrats && thank you. I feel like this blog will be good to keep my thoughts from straying and staying on point. When I was released from the hospital we made three goals:

  1. Lose weight.
  2. Get my diabetes under control.
  3. Everything else.

Goodbye 2018 : Hello 2019

2018 – was horrible.

I’ve noticed a lot of people seem to agree with me on how horrible last year was. I honestly cannot think of anything good that happened – just bad. Buried my grandfather && a close cousin. I watched as the days passed showing me nothing but grey skies and sadness.

But as I sit here, January 2, 2019, I am hoping for a better year. I would say it couldn’t get any worse, but that’s not true. It could get 10x worse, but I refuse to allow that. Hopefully.

2018 I made one resolution. One I honestly thought I could fulfill. I did not – so I am keeping it for this year too: finish Frost. Completely.

But for 2019, I am adding a new one: to get healthy. To be a better me. What it will take? Only time will tell.

For now, my top goal is my book. It may never be published through a big company, and be found on every bookshelf worldwide, but at least I can say that I finished it. Wrote it. Something that I have wanted to do since I began.

So, that’s where I sit. 2018 was crap. 2019 HAS to be better. 2018 I accomplished nothing. 2019 I HAVE to accomplish something. 2018 was not my favorite year. 2019 shall be the first of great many years to come. 2018 was not my worse years (that would be 2003 && 2011.) But it is up there. 2019 – please be better.

Thoughts Crashing Into Each Other.

The other day, standing in the shower, for a brief moment – I seriously started thinking about stomach surgery.  Packing up a little car, going for a ride, talking to a doctor, and having surgery to shrink my football stomach down to a lemon.

In that moment, I quit.

I quit wanting to try, wanting to prove people wrong, and wanting to be proud of my weight loss.  In that moment I decided that I will never pull the weight off, and that I’ll be obese the rest of my life.  (Even if I don’t want to be.)  I decided that I was only fooling myself into thinking that I can do it.  (Even though a few years ago I was doing it and a few months ago, I was doing it.)  I decided that the journey was too long and if I got the surgery that it would help and take away half the battle.  I’d go down one hundred pounds so quick that I would have the energy, and the oompth I’m missing out on.  I’d probably be taken off some medications and have a different outlook on life.

I got out of the shower and stood in front of the mirror and stared at myself.  I looked at all the extra that I have.  I lifted my arms and looked at my sides, I turned and looked at my back.  I felt tears, but I didn’t cry.  I didn’t let the feeling overtake me and I didn’t let the tears win.  I dried off, got dressed (in my black t-shirt and black shorts, which I wear all the time because nothing else fits and I cannot afford clothes that fit me), and sat on my bed – in the dark.

I started thinking about life and things I want to see, or accomplish, or feel, or live.  I started thinking about complications, and possible outcomes after surgery.  I started thinking about that conversation I’d missing out on when someone says, “oh wow, you’ve lost a lot of weight.”  I remembered that I always wanted to say, “Thank you, it’s taken a lot, but well worth it.”  I think about how the conversation would be different if I have the surgery:

“Oh wow, you’ve lost a lot of weight.  You look great!”
“Thank you, but I cheated, I had the surgery knowing damn good && well that I could do it on my own.”
The look on their face will be priceless, their smile would falter and they’d have a look on their face that screamed ‘I’m sorry I asked’.
I’d walk away, hating myself, because deep inside I know I could do it without it.

A few days passed before I ever talked to The Boyfriend about it.  We were standing in a gas station, I had just bought three egg rolls out of the hot box, and we were leaving to come home.  It was early (my late) and I had just gotten off of work – I was hungry, but I didn’t want to go home and cook.  Who wants to do that when you just worked twelve hours and had to get up in six hours to work twelve more?

The cashier had just told us that she and her husband had the surgery.  Together.  I scanned her face, her arms, body and I sighed.  That look flashed through my mind.  She’s older than me, but it briefly frightened me.  Would I look like that?

On the way to the car I told them boyfriend, “I’ve been thinking about the surgery lately.  Maybe it would help.”  He was silent at first, like he usually is when it comes to my weight conversations, but then he spoke.  He sighed, and told me that if I wanted it he wouldn’t stop me, but he doesn’t want me to have it.  He always tells me,  but sometimes after doctor visits and they tell me I’ve gained weight since the last visit, if a doctor tells me I have to have it or death will occur, that he would step aside and let it happen.  But he doesn’t want me to get it – I understand that.

I told him, once we were sitting down in the car, that maybe if I had the surgery, it would give me the weight loss boost I’m needing (or think I’m needing) to get the rest off.  His face fell slightly, and he just stared at me.  I know what he was saying without him saying it.  It’s not hard to figure out his feelings toward something he doesn’t agree with.  I understand – I don’t agree with it, if it’s not the last option.  (I don’t think someone that weighs under 250 pounds should have it.)

It’s been a few days since then and it’s been on my mind.  The thoughts – the shower – his reaction – his look – that conversation.

What I’ve realized since then is a few things.
One.  I know I can pull the weight off by eating better and exercising.  I’ve done it before.  (Some part of my body seems to start hurting after three months, and I stop, put all the weight plus more back on, and then hate myself.)
Two.  I want to be able to tell people that I did it with hard work, determination, and a lot of blood/sweat/tears.  (Surgery will not help me do that.)
Three.  I think I love myself too much to put myself through it.

So what has all of this thinking made me realize?

I still want to work hard, take years and pull the weight off by myself.  Not with help from a surgeon who is out to make a million dollars by fifty.  I know it’s going to be hard, a long battle, and it’s going to take a lot of time.

But I can do this.  I just have to get my butt in gear and stop making up excuses as to why I can’t, or wont do it.

Dear Diary – Every Day’s A Struggle,

I feel like I’m going backwards.  The week of pay day is always a little harder than every other day.  Know what I mean?

I get paid Friday (every two weeks) so I can restock my goodies.  But Christmas is coming up and I am going to eventually start feeling bad about buying stuff for myself.  This is my yearly dilemma.  Sometimes I wonder if this is half the reason I cannot keep up with weight loss.  Do it for so long, thinking about no one but myself, and then I realize that I’m thinking about no one but myself.

I start feeling bad.

I have been eating left overs for the last couple of days.  I know it’s silly to really think about it, but I typically leave all of my calories for the evening.  Which is said to not do so, but I do.

Everyone does something they shouldn’t do.  That’s mine.  (Breakfast has never been my friend.  But that’s for another day.)  But I feel as if I have been eating way too many calories.  I still walk, every day, for at least thirty minutes (which is approximately a mile for me, I’m slow), so I’m still doing my thing.  But how well is it if you eat 5,000 calories a day and only burn 200?  (I don’t eat 5,000 calories a day, maybe 2,000 to the most) – but either way it’s still not good.

I’m rambling.

What I’m saying – is that I have had a rough few days.  Maybe it isn’t rough.  Maybe it’s not as many calories as I think.  Maybe – just maybe – I haven’t put back on my 13 pounds.

That would be nice.

 

Weight Loss Shows…

I have found myself binge-watching weight loss shows && it’s about to drive me crazy.  You’d think I’d stop.  Yeah.  Right.  It drives me crazy because I watch how fast these people lose weight and I’m just not.  Not that I have weighed myself since I started this – but I’m pretty sure I haven’t lose anything.  I just keep waking up fat and it drives me nuts.

Everything is driving me nuts this week.

I bought a bicycle.  I remember when I was younger that I enjoyed riding a bike – I’m just hope riding a bicycle is like riding a bicycle && I don’t kill myself.  I’ll let you know how that goes.

The last few days haven’t been fantastic for me.  I’m trying not to eat my weight in food.  (That’s a lot of food.)  I have thought about it though.  Giving it a try. But I haven’t.  Figured it wouldn’t get me anywhere.

I don’t really have much to say.  So this will be pretty short.  I’ll just say this much – I’m sick of waking up fat.

 

I’m a little upset…

I’m extremely upset with myself but not for any of the reasons you’re probably thinking. When I went to the doctor in December of 2016 the doctor told me ‘throughout the whole year I had lost 10 pounds’.  He was excited however I knew I could do better.  Small changes & I could take off way more than that.  So I decided that I would change the way I ate, not take anything out but just eat less.  When I get full I’ll stop.  I went to the doctor in March of 2017 && I had lost 18 pounds.  18 pounds in four months without changing what I ate only how much, how often, &&& I was NOT exercising.

I was on cloud 9!  Because I just proved my preaching correct.  Yes, it’ll take me a while to get the other 147 pounds off but I know I can do it.

Sitting in the doctor’s office I decide that I’m going to add exercise to my life.  You know, just a small walk – once a day between 20 & 30 minutes.  If I go longer yay!  If I don’t Yay!  When a person doesn’t get any exercise whatsoever, a small amount does wonders.

So last Wednesday I decide to put it to work.  I go for my walk and feel wonderful but I’m hungry.  All day.  Every day.  Because I know logically I’m not eating enough food.  Because when you start calorie counting it scares the living crap out of you!  You look at things you eat daily and finally realize that you are in taking so many calories.

I scared myself into calorie counting when I began this by just wanting to add exercise.  I wanted to prove to the world that you don’t have to chew on lettuce, or snack on celery.  That you could go and enjoy a meal out when you don’t feel like cooking.  Or stop by the convenience store and get some crispetoes.   But I didn’t do that.  I stopped eating anything deep fried (I don’t that often anyway), stopped asking for pizza.  I WAS STILL EATING PIZZA WHEN I LOST THE 18 POUNDS WITH NO EXERCISE.

I don’t believe you can lose weight if you’re miserable.
I don’t believe you can lose weight if you’re hungry all the time.
I don’t believe you can lose weight if you’re not satisfied with what you’re doing.

I got to the point last night that I was scared to eat.  &&& I was hungry.  I’m not talking bored hungry, or whatever.  I was stomach growling uncomfortable please give me something in an IV hungry.  But I was scared because I would go over calories.  Who cares if I eat over 1,910 calories a day.  Last weekend at work I was miserable.  MISERABLE.  I’m sitting there hungry just thinking about  the next moment I get to eat.  I wasn’t thinking about work.  I was thinking about food.  Because I was hungry.

I do believe that I need more water.
I do believe that I need less deep fried foods.
I do believe that I need more greens, veggies, & fruits.

But I also believe that I will not do this if I’m hungry all the time and only thinking about food.  So I need to stop && readjust what I’m doing.  Because I’m doing something wrong.

When I go back to the doctor in July if I don’t lose the 47 pounds – that’s okay.  But I do want to see if it’s possible to lose weight without eating ONLY veggies and fruits.  I’m a huge meat eater – I don’t think a dinner is complete without some form of meat.  People will & have argued with me over that, but if I look at a plate of nothing but veggies and fruits, I’m unhappy.  Now, add a piece of nicely cooked chicken or pork chops, I’m happy.  When you’re fighting food you can’t be unhappy with it because then you’re just going to try & find something to make you happy.  When you have issues && turn to food – guess what you’re going to do trying to find a happy place.  You’re going to eat.  &&& eat.  &&& eat.

What I need to readjust in my head is my motivation.  I want off my medication.  I don’t want it to get worse I want it to get better and until I pull off some weight it won’t work.  But I’m NOT going to be unhappy while I do this.  Because I’d rather stay overweight && be happy, then lose all of the weight and be scared of food. Be scared of eating an apple because they have hidden sugars and it might make me fat again.  What kind of life is that?

What if I want to make spaghetti one night and have a big bowl of it and just enjoy it?  I can’t if I’m scared of food.  I don’t want to be scared to buy food at work the days I wake up so tired && it takes everything to go for my walk let alone make myself breakfast, lunch, diner & snacks.  When I could just go to work and get something.  Yes, it’s not healthy, but I feel like eating nothing but fruits and veggies will be unhealthy too.  Especially for someone like me.  Who – when hungry – eats, and eats, and eats until I get to the point of making myself sick.  But I am full after I eat in the first place I don’t think about food as much.  I mean I’m always thinking about food – that’s just me.  Like I have already figured out what I’m making tomorrow night for dinner and I haven’t been to sleep.

No, I’m not trying to talk myself out of weight loss.  I’d never do that.  What I’m trying to do is secure the weight loss.  I’m trying to make sure I don’t fail…. again.  I’m tired of being overweight.  I’ve been tired for year.  I know calorie counting with my app on my phone works.  But I’m unhappy.  I will never finish my weight loss if I feel like this.  I’ll never get to a healthy weight if I feel like I do right now.

What made me realize all of this?  I freaking LOVE Frito chili pie.  LOVE.  IT.  I’m not a chili eater unless you give me Frito’s, cheese, onions & salsa.  &&& I’m in love.  Tonight the Boyfriend wanted that for dinner and I’m not going to tell him no.  I made a Frito chili pie tonight for myself using the serving size.  I don’t know if anyone has ever tried to eat a serving size of Frito’s & chili but it seriously made me so sad.  I just sat there & thought about what I was trying to accomplish and what I was doing to myself not eating a normal portion for someone my size.

So I’m going to turn right && choose to eat what I want to eat.  Yes, I will still eat the good-for-me foods like I have been.  But I think I’m going to stop counting calories.  I’ll keep my app, I’ve had it for years.  I want to see if adding exercise, & drinking more water will double my weight loss in July.

So yeah, I probably just made this even harder for myself to get the weight off && it’ll probably take me years.  But that’s okay.  It is.  It’s fine.  But I’d rather be doing this for years then be unhappy right now.  But we never know… maybe a miracle will happen && I can get the next 150 pounds off in the next year & a half.

All I have to remember is one thing… exercise. exercise. exercise. exercise.
Plus, as I exercise and my body gets more used to it I’ll be able to increase it and do more.

One day at a time.

Not a resolution.

Two years ago I had decided I was ready to finally pull off weight.  I changed my diet, began exercising, and sleeping normally.  I was pumped!  After four months I had pulled off 40 pounds – I was beyond excited.  I had no intentions of ever stopping until I reached my goal and was able to continue eating like I was without a calorie counter.  Yes!  I’m a calorie counter.

The fifth month rolled around and I began having pains in my feet so bad that when I stopped moving I was unable to stand back on them.  When I woke up after sleeping I fell over and found myself crawling through my house – a lot.  I finally scheduled an appointment with a foot doctor I don’t know the actual name and after some x-rays he figured out that I had plantar fasciitis.  After giving me a shot my feet felt a million times better.

I never really got back into the groove the feet issues took and, well, it’s been two years and I have put back on the weight I lost plus more.  I figured everything would be okay since I haven’t really had any health problems associated with my weight.  Why worry when there isn’t a reason to worry?

In 2014, I decided it was time to finally go to a doctor for a check up – I began feeling weird.  Extremely tired, pains in weird places, etc.  I was diagnosed with high blood pressure and my A1C (number that determines whether you have diabetes) was a little higher than he wanted (they want it less than a 7.0 & mine was a 6.7.)  There is when we started the struggle with finding the medicine that would help and not cause me any issues.  The first set of blood pressure pills made me cough which he said was not a good thing.  Okay, that’s fine, so we moved on to another kind – which is what I still take.  The A1C pill hasn’t changed since I began taking the medicine.

Lately, however, when I take my A1C pill I start feeling… weird.  My head will go light making me dizzy at times, I get extremely tired (there are times where I just want to close my eyes and rest), and my stomach gets very sick to itself.  I haven’t taken it in a few days which is probably causing me more issues than anything.

After a lot of thought I decided that I would get back to making myself healthy.  Exercising and eating right is the plan.  I halfway started yesterday when I got a membership at a gym and started going.  Twice so far.  It may not seem like much, but it’s a big change for someone who is usually found in bed watching television unless they HAVE to get up and do something.

The last couple of years my attitude and health has changed a lot.  I remember being able to walk through Wal-Mart for hours without any trouble, and now I have issues.

Yesterday I started out well.  Ate less than my allotted calories and spent an hour at the gym.  Hooray!  Today, however, I had a harder time. Nothing to destroy anything – I still have work to do.  (Mostly, grocery shopping.  When all you have in your house is macaroni and cheese, & potatoes, you have to buy some things.)  Today was just one of those days where you stand there and think if I shove anymore food in my mouth I’m going to slap myself.  It wasn’t a lot but I know for a fact I ran over my allotted calorie intake for today but I am not going to let it get me down.

Tomorrow is another day.