Funny How Fate Works

I called out sick from work today, to babysit my depression.

I really have been feeling shitty for the last 5 or so months, and can't seem to get it together. The world outside is a life size freezer, and I refuse to buy real winter coat because I HATE how it makes me feel bigger then what I actually am. The only good thing about today was the fact I was able to squeeze in an appointment in with a new doctor in the neighborhood. The only bad thing about today was the fact that he told me I need to have surgery.

Apparently what I don't have is what I was self-diagnosed with - P.C.O.S. (there goes my idea about getting certified as a Google M.D). He suspects Endometriosis, and wants to go in laproscopically to see for sure. He seemed like a really nice guy, but one thing was kind of weird. He was sending "I.Ms" (instant messages via AIM or Yahoo) to someone during our consultation. At first I thought, COOL...he's down with technology. Then he told me that he was "I.Ming" his office staff (who generally speaking, were in the next room). Now, I'm all about getting down with technology, but sending I.M's to people 10 feet away? Hmmmm....

Anyway, after a few hours of sitting on my couch, contemplating what to do and how life really SUCKS right now, I get a call from an old high school friend. We stay in touch as much as life allows us to right now. We are both busy adults, and the days of meeting at the "shing-ding" to sneak a cigarette are WAY over. Anyway, I can't explain why, but talking to her made me feel so much better. Maybe it was just finally joking and laughing with someone about nonsense, that gave the serotonin a kick start in my brain. Then not even 10 minutes later, another good ol' friend from high school called to talk some shit too. She allowed me to get some shit off my chest that was boiling up over the last few days. I hate to bitch and complain all the time, but I have to say, she is the only person I've ever met that has never, ever, ever, not EVER gotten tired of hearing it. Who do you know has a limitless tolerance for wining? Not too many people I bet.

Who knows why, but both calls were right on time...so if you are reading this right now, my 2 friends... THANK YOU.

The Numbers Game

Soooooooo, a friend of mine decided to place a friendly wager on who can lose the most weight after 4 months. Nothing like a little friendly competition to really shake things up. Step one was going to her house for our official weigh-in. Here's where the drama begins. HER FREAKIN' SCALE weighed me as 5lbs heavier then the scale in my bathroom. Need I say more? I FREAKED OUT....Even though I know certainly that each scale is calibrated differently, and when you get weighed you should always get weighed on the same scale with the same conditions available (i.e. same time of day, after or before lunch, after or before 10 glasses of water, etc...)...Even yet and still, I could not wrap my brain around the fact that her shitty, shitty, shitty, horrible scale said I was 5lbs heavier.

For the last few weeks, I've been on this restricted calorie diet. 3 square meals a day. Accompanying salads, with a teaspoon or 2 of extra virgin olive oil for taste. On good days, I'll remember to grab my tangerines in the morning for a mid-meal snack. And for all this effort, the scale flips me the bird??? Oh lord...so unacceptable. It is unbelievable hard to bounce back from that. AS IS I am already looking for any excuse to throw in the towel.

What I really need to do is stay away from the scale for a month. At my last J.C. weigh-in, I asked not to be weighed. I didn't want to get deterred from starting the program over if the scale reflected a weight gain while I was dealing with life's little hiccups. All I knew is I was ready to start over again, and that vicious number had all the power in the world to knock me right down.

On that note, I am going to go check on my J.C. Lasagna, my salad getting crispy cold in the fridge, and bubbly diet coke waiting for me to wash it all down with. Tomorrow is another weigh-in day, although I have yet to decide if I actually want to get "weighed-in" on.

Day HUH?

I realize that trying to post everyday just encourages my unrealistic expectation to take flight (at least I think about this blog everyday...does that count?). So instead of just throwing in the towel cause I fucked this up....(just as I fuck my diet up over, and over, and over again), I decided that I am going to post just a few times a week. That's a more realistic expectation to fulfill, and hopefully it will coincide with a realistic weight loss goal.

The last 2 weeks have included a few emergency room visits, a near death aversion for a family member, and bouts of depression that keep me prisoner in the house for days. Without going into details that would probably depress you too, let's just say having Ovarian Cysts SUCKS. I have a constant dull stinging in my lower right abdomen that comes to a screeching crescendo of pain towards the end of each month. I have to say, I have NO IDEA what or how this happened to me. All of my doctor visits, and numerous emergency room trysts have yet to really diagnose what is causing this constant pain. SO AS USUAL, I took matters into my own hands and hit up Barnes and Noble with a vengeance.

Fast forward several books later, I'm pretty sure I have P.C.O.S (Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome). I picked up a booked titled "A Patient's guide to P.C.O.S", and I really feel that just about everything they describe in the book, describes me. When I say describes me, I mean everything from physical characteristics, to family history, to weight issues, to hormonal imbalances, to emotional issues, and so on and so on. The most interesting part of the whole book is the part that has been most frustrating about this whole P.C.O.S experience. There is no cure, no magic pill, no surgery, no NOTHING that will make this go away. It's actually pretty hard to diagnose because there are so many variables that could cause so many of these symptoms. The one common thread in the entire book is this: Loose weight and your symptoms will go away. I can really go into massive detail about how that works, but then what's the point of reading the book yourself, right? If you have unexplained sharp pains before and during your period each month, go get this book and see if you are lucky enough to qualify to fit the title.

Day 21

Regret

Today marks week 3 of starting Jenny Craig. While I have not gained any weight from my last weigh-in, I have not lost any either. If I had stayed on track, I'm positive I would of lost 15lbs by now. But as the saying goes, "shoudda, couldda & wouldda don't count".

Understandably, family crisis will flip any one's life upside down. But is this what I should expect when I deviate even the slightest bit from routine? Could I have stayed on my J.C plan during this tumultuous time? I mean, I did wake up in a house with an oven, and go to sleep in a house with an oven....It just wasn't MY house. Do I look for any excuse to jump off the program? I really don't have the answers to those questions right now. Who know how deep the reasons for any of our behaviors lie. Who know, maybe the fear of success is too much. Maybe somewhere deep down inside, I'm afraid of succeeding because I can't handle the newfound attention it will bring to my life.... WHO KNOWS.... It just seems that EVERY SINGLE TIME I get to this point, something always happens that throws me right off course. Whether it's in my control or not, something always happens that give way for me to relapse into my usual nonsense.

The only thing that I am sure about is this: I'm supper ready to get back on track. I called J.C. and scheduled an appointment for New Year's Eve at 1pm. I was trying to get a jump start on the all the"New Year's Resolutioners" that will be crowding our gyms and J.C centers for the month of January...but I guess I'll one of them now.

If ya can't beat em, join em!

Day 20???

Relief.

So after that last post, I get a phone call from my mother. Pop is in the hospital. There's a breathing tube shoved down his throat to keep him alive, he's sedated and both his hands are tied down. Commence chaos.

Before I even go any further, I want to say that he's fine now. He is a dialysis patient, and his kidneys don't work. He had about 20 pounds of fluid build up in his body that was preventing him from breathing. The dialyzed him, and he's back to normal now....well, as normal as one can be with non-functioning kidneys.

Needless to say, Jenny Craig went straight to hell for the last 6 days. I was living in between the hospital and my mother's house, and not for one second was I concerned about finding a microwave to heat up my diet food. I can pretend that I was the slightest bit concerned about J.C, but I really wasn't. I am concerned about getting back on that horse, now that Pop is back home. I have to call and make an appointment again with my consultant, who..incidentely.,..has been blowing up my phone. I'm not too sure if that's a good or a bad thing. Yes, it's nice they care....No, I don't really wanna hear "Hey, this is Steph from Jenny Craig" when my father is dying in the hospital.

Tomorrow is a new day, and back on the saddle we go.

Day 14

DAMN IT.

I missed my weigh in today. I was just in too much pain to go. I know I've lost some weight because my obsessive compulsive self has been keeping track on my scale at home. I didn't sleep at ALL last night from the pain of the cyst, and I just wanted to run home SO BAD after work. I called J.C and let them know that I wasn't going to make it, and rescheduled it for Wednesday afternoon.

I'm not worried....am I?

Day 13

Result.

So I ate my body weight in finger foods and booze. Am I disappointed? Slightly. Devastated enough to throw in the towel? Never. I really feel like I've come way to far to give up now. To be honest, I'm way more concerned with the stabbing pains that I woke up with, just around my lower abdomen region.

For the last few months, I've been battling what most women in their "child bearing" years battle with, especially if they don't have any kids... You guessed it... Ovarian Cysts. So a few months ago, I found myself in the emergency room, keeled over in pain. Apparently, one of these cysts had burst. Now, being that Google and WebMD has made me a civilian expert on everything and anything having to do with reproductive health, it is my civilian opinion that I had another episode of a burst cyst. Did I mention I've had my period for 3 weeks straight? My body is totally out of whack now. All I can do this think about how getting rid of these extra LBS would really alleviate my cystic situation. It seems that every site that I went to to research my problem, all had a common thread......being overweight is a contributing factor to the risk and likely hood of developing ovarian cysts. Something about hormones being stored in fat, and carrying extra fat, and hormones and cysts...and yada, yada, yada...

Bottom line is this.... Living with the constant threat and worry of not only developing cysts, but having them BURST and cause intense pain, basically whenever they feel like...really sucks. Ask any women you know how bad it is when you have an ovarian cyst burst....it's HORRIBLE!

So on that note (as I sit here high on Viccodine for some pain relief from my fat induced ovarian cyst), this is just one more motivating factor to continue to loose weight. Life really does suck when you are a slave to a medical condition.