I suppose I should have realized when I was a child that I would one day have a collective medical record equal to the size of a set of encyclopedias...or more. You see, I was always the sickly child, the one who got allergies, strep throat at least twice a year, bronchitis, mono, you name it. I was put in glasses in first grade, and when I began going to the dentist they decided that my teeth were abnormally groovy and needed sealants put on. All of them. So you see, my parents and I had ample warning. But we did not heed this warning and instead kept muddling through missed school, ineffective medications, and repetitive trips to Dr. A, Dr. B, Dr. C, etc.
As I grew up and we moved to a new town, we realized even more the number of things that we as my family managed to confound doctors with. We also realized some things that had gone on for years and could have been treated by a simple thorough medical exam. I had my first surgery at 16, a "simple" sinus surgery. After weeks of not healing, a second procedure had to be done to remove scar tissue. Please note that this event should have been surrounded by some faint suspicious music with some effective spotlighting to emphasize that anyone of any intelligence should pick up on the foreshadowing taking place. We didn't notice.
Fast forward several years, several surgeries. Scar tissue, it seems, has become a sort of superhuman thing for me. Doctors laugh (yes, actually laugh) as they try to remove my baby from my tummy, trying desperately to avoid or break through the inpenetratable web of kryptonite that has formed and continues to form inside me. But alas, this is just the tip of the iceberg. I have had years of diagnoses that amaze, confound, and clearly defy all odds of mankind. A rare and degenerative eye disease that renders me legally blind at the ripe old age of 23, scary lumps that turn out to be...scar tissue, unexplained allergic reactions during pregnancy that really throw nurses into a frenzy during labor, gestational diabetes followed by Diabetes Type 2, bleeds during pregnancy, miscarriages, diseases that show up in places they shouldn't on my body, a failed, Lap Band procedure because of my body's intolerance for anything, a growth on the inside of my eyelid (picture a flaming torch coming at your eye as you are required to hold it open), so many visits to the OB/GYN that I am now on Volume II of my overly thick chart there, atypical IBS, atypical presentation of all of the above, the metabolism of a sloth, and that's just to name a few. I tell you, my doctors only keep me around so that they can one day make tons of money off of an article they will publish on the atypical presentation of every rare and non rare disorder known in their respective field of study.
So it should not have surprised me when I went to the endocrinologist this week to see if maybe my thyroid was not working properly, somehow giving an explanation to the fact that I have been working out like Jane Fonda on speed and eating rabbit food for the past two months and not lost an ounce. Well, wonder of all wonders, my thyroid works fine. If anything, it borders on working TOO well, which should make me LOSE weight rather than gain. Go figure. Well, that was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. I lost it. First with the poor PA (obviously they didn't realize who they were dealing with when they did not schedule me with a doctor), and then moving to the doctor when she realized I might jump up and strangle her. He sat patiently while I went through a very "un-Jesus girl" rage about the unfairness of my obviously unbalanced gene selection since no one else in my family seemed to be vying for medical textbook space with me and what had I ever done to deserve this uncooperative body of mine and, well, you get the point. His dumbed-down explanation was that I have a metabolic problem that cannot be treated. My question, after I calmed down, was, "So I have diabetes because I'm fat and I'm fat because I have diabetes?" He verified this insane logic with a nod. "So, following this train of logic, I need to lose weight to help my diabetes, but I can't lose weight because of the diabetes?" Another nod. Oh, it will come. Eventually. But probably not before I get frustrated and give up, as it could take SEVERAL months to see any change on that evil contraption we call a bathroom scale. Oh, and Trainer Terry is insane if he thinks that I can stick to a 1000-calorie diet. At least the medical professionals agreed with me on that and gave me some more room to chew.
So I left in tears, frustrated yet again that I once more fall into the 0.00000000001 percent of people that suffer from numerous conditions, side effects, and problems that only 0.000001 percent of people have. My family and I have learned to listen well when the drug commercials tell of the horrific side effects like heart attack, stroke, anal leakage, fainting, joint pain, foaming at the mouth and uncontrolled urination that affect one out of a trillion people who take this drug for insomnia. It WILL happen.
So what have I learned? Well, good doctors are the ones that let you cry and don't lock you up when you do. That's important. And I have to be content that, while I will not be losing the fat like my friends who have also begun this getting-healthy journey, my health is in fact improving. And I must learn to ignore, or at least not resent, my brothers who have run marathons and are training for triathlons and can run for miles while I run the distance of two streetlights. I will probably be the fat one in the gym for a long time. But I'll be a strong fat girl. And that's just going to have to be okay. For now.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
When Satan Tempts Me to Despair....
When Satan tempts me to despair
And tells me of the guilt within
Upward I look and see Him there
Who made and end to all my sin
And boy, is he tempting! You see, I have started a major Kelly-over this year. I have joined a gym, hired a trainer, changed my eating habits DRAMATICALLY, and am earnestly seeking to be obedient to God with my body and health through prayer, accountability, and a great book, Made to Crave. My parents and brother and husband, bless their hearts, have taken on getting me to and from the gym (legally blind, can't drive, another long one for later), as well as taking care of the kid(s) during my workout time.
So for about 6 weeks now I have been lifting weights, elliptical-ling, RPM-ing (Spin classes), treadmill-ing, and CrossFit-ing three to four days a week, as well as eating less and better. Yesterday I even did TWO RPM classes. I know, wow, right? So guess how much weight I've lost. Here it comes. You ready?..........ZERO! Yes, that's right, ZERO pounds. No better-fitting jeans, no better-fitting wedding rings, no comments on how I LOOK like I've slimmed any, nada. But that's not to say there haven't been other changes.
My doctor reduced my insulin from 140 units per day to 70 per day, and reduced my HBP med by 50%. He says that within three more months he expects I will be off of all of these meds. So that's great. I have more energy (at least on the days I go to the gym), I'm in a better mood, and just generally feel better. I don't have as many aches and pains. Oh, and my family is in love with the new eating plan, which includes no junk food, no Chinese food, no white potatoes, no fast food, no fried foods, turkey instead of pork, and a lot more simple meat and veggie meals. Yeah, they are lovin' me right now (did you catch the sarcasm?)! And, on days I can't make it to the gym to work out, I am so sleepy I can't stay awake for more than a few hours during the day.
So you see, it is very tempting to go into the despair mode. Not to worry, though. I am not just doing this for the number on the scale or the number on the clothing tag. I could always rig those (remember that Seinfeld episode where he replaces the tag in his pants to make others think he's still thinner than he is?). No, I have no plans to throw in the towel. But at the same time, can someone just hook up a Dyson to my stomach and suck all the fat out? Actually, it might be easier with a ShopVac. Just to give me some outwardly visible evidence of what I'm doing? Even Trainer Terry is confused, and has enlisted the help of other trainers to try to figure this mess out. I am currently keeping a VERY detailed food journal in the hopes that I am not eating enough. Wouldn't that be ironic? And to answer the obvious question, yes, I have had my thyroid checked. About 137 times. Still comes back normal.
So, as the song above tells me, I must look to God for power, resolve, and reprieve from the temptation that is lurking just outside the door of the Cycle Studio, right beside the scale in the locker room, and right beside the other gym junkies who are actually changing their bodies before my eyes. So what if their muffin top is shrinking while mine tries desperately to fit into Spandex padded in the butt so that I can endure my 45 minutes of racing towards nowhere on a cardio bike? I have to trust God that He gave me this body, I am doing all I can (finally) to take care of it, and while I may not see the rewards I want right now, I find peace in the knowledge that I am being obedient to His will for me. So in the spirit of C.S. Lewis, I am handing over power to God to take the little demon away from my shoulder and not just throw him aside, but crush the ever-loving snot out of him (read The Great Divorce).
And tells me of the guilt within
Upward I look and see Him there
Who made and end to all my sin
And boy, is he tempting! You see, I have started a major Kelly-over this year. I have joined a gym, hired a trainer, changed my eating habits DRAMATICALLY, and am earnestly seeking to be obedient to God with my body and health through prayer, accountability, and a great book, Made to Crave. My parents and brother and husband, bless their hearts, have taken on getting me to and from the gym (legally blind, can't drive, another long one for later), as well as taking care of the kid(s) during my workout time.
So for about 6 weeks now I have been lifting weights, elliptical-ling, RPM-ing (Spin classes), treadmill-ing, and CrossFit-ing three to four days a week, as well as eating less and better. Yesterday I even did TWO RPM classes. I know, wow, right? So guess how much weight I've lost. Here it comes. You ready?..........ZERO! Yes, that's right, ZERO pounds. No better-fitting jeans, no better-fitting wedding rings, no comments on how I LOOK like I've slimmed any, nada. But that's not to say there haven't been other changes.
My doctor reduced my insulin from 140 units per day to 70 per day, and reduced my HBP med by 50%. He says that within three more months he expects I will be off of all of these meds. So that's great. I have more energy (at least on the days I go to the gym), I'm in a better mood, and just generally feel better. I don't have as many aches and pains. Oh, and my family is in love with the new eating plan, which includes no junk food, no Chinese food, no white potatoes, no fast food, no fried foods, turkey instead of pork, and a lot more simple meat and veggie meals. Yeah, they are lovin' me right now (did you catch the sarcasm?)! And, on days I can't make it to the gym to work out, I am so sleepy I can't stay awake for more than a few hours during the day.
So you see, it is very tempting to go into the despair mode. Not to worry, though. I am not just doing this for the number on the scale or the number on the clothing tag. I could always rig those (remember that Seinfeld episode where he replaces the tag in his pants to make others think he's still thinner than he is?). No, I have no plans to throw in the towel. But at the same time, can someone just hook up a Dyson to my stomach and suck all the fat out? Actually, it might be easier with a ShopVac. Just to give me some outwardly visible evidence of what I'm doing? Even Trainer Terry is confused, and has enlisted the help of other trainers to try to figure this mess out. I am currently keeping a VERY detailed food journal in the hopes that I am not eating enough. Wouldn't that be ironic? And to answer the obvious question, yes, I have had my thyroid checked. About 137 times. Still comes back normal.
So, as the song above tells me, I must look to God for power, resolve, and reprieve from the temptation that is lurking just outside the door of the Cycle Studio, right beside the scale in the locker room, and right beside the other gym junkies who are actually changing their bodies before my eyes. So what if their muffin top is shrinking while mine tries desperately to fit into Spandex padded in the butt so that I can endure my 45 minutes of racing towards nowhere on a cardio bike? I have to trust God that He gave me this body, I am doing all I can (finally) to take care of it, and while I may not see the rewards I want right now, I find peace in the knowledge that I am being obedient to His will for me. So in the spirit of C.S. Lewis, I am handing over power to God to take the little demon away from my shoulder and not just throw him aside, but crush the ever-loving snot out of him (read The Great Divorce).
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Forget-me-not
So I work out at a gym. When I first started a few weeks ago I noticed one of the trainers looked familiar. Since I'm legally blind, I don't put much stock into who I THINK people look like. I have a fear of embarrassing myself by walking up to a complete stranger and talking to them as if they were someone I knew. I did this as a small child one time in a store, mistaking another customer as my mother and shamelessly took hold of their hand and began a conversation with them. I was so mortified I promptly burst into tears. It stuck with me.
Anyway, this trainer looked familiar. So when my trainer, who will be known henceforth as Trainer Terry, mentioned him in conversation it turned out to be the person I suspected. We'll call him Bob. Bob and I went out - once - in high school. Awkward date, never went out again, but he gave me rides to and from school for a good bit of the first semester of my sophomore year. Well, he (Bob) approached me the other day in an effort to help me with one of the machines. I ask him if he is...Bob Smith...and he says yes. I explain who I am, tell him my maiden name, and I see the undeniable stare of confusion. He has NO CLUE who I am. And I know he's thinking, "There is no way I ever went out with this fat lunatic!" I frantically tell him that I have since gained an inordinate amount of weight, so he probably doesn't recognize me. Still nothing. Really? I mean, we spent, like, 30-45 minutes a day together IN HIS CAR almost everyday for months! Really? He tries to cover, saying that he did a lot of drugs a few years ago and doesn't remember much, blah, blah, blah... No. I'm sorry. That doesn't cut it for me. Granted, I didn't go out with a TON of people in high school, but enough. And I can still at least remember their first names!
So I have to wonder now. How forgettable am I? Are there other friends, dates, whatever, that honestly would not remember me now? Is this normal? And, perhaps to make it worse, he has been very polite and nice to me ever since. He speaks to me when he sees me in the gym and seems to truly be curious about who in the devil I am. So this leads me to believe that it is not a case of denial of recognition due to horror of me, but an honest block in his memory. OUCH! And...awkward!
I think it's ironic that we all worry about what people will remember about us after we are gone. What kind of lasting impression will we leave on this world? According to my recent experience I need not worry so much! God has told us in His Word that we are not to desire the things of this world. And that includes the favor of men. Great lesson, hard to put into practice. So maybe my experience in the gym should serve to remind me that I'm not all that special here on earth. But you know what? I am known, loved, and CHERISHED by the Creator of the universe! And he has sent people into my life, including a wonderful husband, that love and cherish me, too. So what if some guy I once spent some time with doesn't have the slightest clue who I am and probably thinks I'm some kind of weird overweight stalker? Come to think of it, it might be better if some people from my past not remember me, based on things I remember about myself when I knew them! But just to be safe I think I'll go back to my strategy of not trying to recognize people. I don't really want to start holding hands with strangers OR get the reputation of the crazy stalker.
Anyway, this trainer looked familiar. So when my trainer, who will be known henceforth as Trainer Terry, mentioned him in conversation it turned out to be the person I suspected. We'll call him Bob. Bob and I went out - once - in high school. Awkward date, never went out again, but he gave me rides to and from school for a good bit of the first semester of my sophomore year. Well, he (Bob) approached me the other day in an effort to help me with one of the machines. I ask him if he is...Bob Smith...and he says yes. I explain who I am, tell him my maiden name, and I see the undeniable stare of confusion. He has NO CLUE who I am. And I know he's thinking, "There is no way I ever went out with this fat lunatic!" I frantically tell him that I have since gained an inordinate amount of weight, so he probably doesn't recognize me. Still nothing. Really? I mean, we spent, like, 30-45 minutes a day together IN HIS CAR almost everyday for months! Really? He tries to cover, saying that he did a lot of drugs a few years ago and doesn't remember much, blah, blah, blah... No. I'm sorry. That doesn't cut it for me. Granted, I didn't go out with a TON of people in high school, but enough. And I can still at least remember their first names!
So I have to wonder now. How forgettable am I? Are there other friends, dates, whatever, that honestly would not remember me now? Is this normal? And, perhaps to make it worse, he has been very polite and nice to me ever since. He speaks to me when he sees me in the gym and seems to truly be curious about who in the devil I am. So this leads me to believe that it is not a case of denial of recognition due to horror of me, but an honest block in his memory. OUCH! And...awkward!
I think it's ironic that we all worry about what people will remember about us after we are gone. What kind of lasting impression will we leave on this world? According to my recent experience I need not worry so much! God has told us in His Word that we are not to desire the things of this world. And that includes the favor of men. Great lesson, hard to put into practice. So maybe my experience in the gym should serve to remind me that I'm not all that special here on earth. But you know what? I am known, loved, and CHERISHED by the Creator of the universe! And he has sent people into my life, including a wonderful husband, that love and cherish me, too. So what if some guy I once spent some time with doesn't have the slightest clue who I am and probably thinks I'm some kind of weird overweight stalker? Come to think of it, it might be better if some people from my past not remember me, based on things I remember about myself when I knew them! But just to be safe I think I'll go back to my strategy of not trying to recognize people. I don't really want to start holding hands with strangers OR get the reputation of the crazy stalker.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Let's just go with the title for the first one....Cakes, Mustard Seeds, and Laughter Through Tears
Why not, right? I mean, this is the first post, and you're probably wondering what in the world, right? I know I am, and I'm writing it! So this title came to me late one night, trying to go to sleep. I've been thinking about embarking on the blog journey for quite a while now, and finally decided to go ahead and take the jump into cyberspace. So hopefully by explaining the title I can tell you a little bit about what to expect.
Cakes - I decorate cakes. I love to bake, and love to agree to projects without really having any idea how to go about the actual procedure. That's part of the fun. You will hear later about the "Midnight Bakers," and our many adventures in creating original cake designs. My cakes taste really good, if I do say so myself, and I try very hard to make each cake original and awesome. I'm no Cake Boss, but I think they look pretty good!
Mustard Seeds - Note the verse at the top. I am a woman who loves God, and my Spiritual journey is ever-changing. Sometimes it's hard, sometimes it's hilarious, and sometimes it's heart-breaking. That's called humanity. I will share my journey, as much as I am willing to have everyone know, and hopefully something will touch someone out there and prompt them to know more, pray more, or seek more.
Laughter Through Tears - For those of you who have not for some reason ever seen Steel Magnolias, let me urge you to stop now and immediately find a copy to watch. "Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion!" I have struggles, like everyone. I am legally blind, cannot drive, and have a medical history to rival any textbook. I have found, though, that laughter can keep you sane and keeps others around you from feeling pity and treating you like the freak you are (or, I am, or whatever). So I try to find humor in situations that would otherwise result in tears. And sometimes, the two intermingle. Especially when you have great friends like I do.
So there you go. A little bit about me and what you might see on here. I have lots and lots of ideas about upcoming posts, and cannot wait to share the many journeys I am on. And even if no one reads it but me, days or months after I write it, I hope that I can see growth (and loss, in some areas) along the road. Enjoy!
Cakes - I decorate cakes. I love to bake, and love to agree to projects without really having any idea how to go about the actual procedure. That's part of the fun. You will hear later about the "Midnight Bakers," and our many adventures in creating original cake designs. My cakes taste really good, if I do say so myself, and I try very hard to make each cake original and awesome. I'm no Cake Boss, but I think they look pretty good!
Mustard Seeds - Note the verse at the top. I am a woman who loves God, and my Spiritual journey is ever-changing. Sometimes it's hard, sometimes it's hilarious, and sometimes it's heart-breaking. That's called humanity. I will share my journey, as much as I am willing to have everyone know, and hopefully something will touch someone out there and prompt them to know more, pray more, or seek more.
Laughter Through Tears - For those of you who have not for some reason ever seen Steel Magnolias, let me urge you to stop now and immediately find a copy to watch. "Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion!" I have struggles, like everyone. I am legally blind, cannot drive, and have a medical history to rival any textbook. I have found, though, that laughter can keep you sane and keeps others around you from feeling pity and treating you like the freak you are (or, I am, or whatever). So I try to find humor in situations that would otherwise result in tears. And sometimes, the two intermingle. Especially when you have great friends like I do.
So there you go. A little bit about me and what you might see on here. I have lots and lots of ideas about upcoming posts, and cannot wait to share the many journeys I am on. And even if no one reads it but me, days or months after I write it, I hope that I can see growth (and loss, in some areas) along the road. Enjoy!
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