I admire those who are brave enough to post their photos. I am not there. Yet? I have always hated having my picture taken. I can’t smile. When I have to “just smile”, it looks fake. I have that sort of child’s “cheese” smile.
I also spent most of my life fat. I’m not going to regale the entire saga of my rise and fall. At 5’2” topping at 242 pounds and dipping to 125 a decade or so later; the next couple, few years on a 130-140 pound yo-yo.
Until a year ago.
I have been legally blind/visually impaired/partially sighted, choose a buzz-word, since I was 16. I live with Type 2 diabetes. I have done so since about 22-23 years old. These things were not related. Neither was discovering roughly five and a half years ago my kidneys were at 50% function between them.
After 2 solid years of spectacular sugar control, something I had never had, I woke up on the morning of June 6th of last year with a black spot blocking almost all of my vision. Two days later, the optometrist at the clinic at the University told me it was diabetic retinopathy. In layman’s terms, that black spot was blood. My retinas were bleeding.
At the end of September I had a procedure on my left eye and one on my right in November to stop the bleeding. The initial diagnosis and recovery from the surgery left me on “bed-rest” for the entire summer, nearly 4 months.
I can not say enough, I do not know how I would have survived without my partner-in-crime. He took the most amazing care of me and I know I was not the best patient. I wasn’t even allowed to walk the dog so he took sole responsibility for caring for her. I hate being dependent on anyone and now it was almost completely so. I was stir-crazy, felt guilty and like a burden. I worried he would resent me. He was patient, indulgent, understanding and tolerant.
The problem with sitting on your tush for months at a time and only moving to walk between bed, the bathroom, sofa and occasional detours into the kitchen is that one still has to eat. Being frustrated and down made for not the best food choices to boot. Eating + immobility = weight gain.
At the beginning of October I was cleared to become mobile again. Becoming more active again should have, in theory, at least started to improve my weight. It has not.
I have a slipped disk in my lower back that is surrounded by arthritis. I am also extremely limited in medicinal relief due to my kidneys.
I thought a great way to start 2016 was to throw my back out, twice, in the first weekend. (After throwing it out at the crack of dawn on Dec 24th.) I have severe fall-phobia (terror) and it was compounded by the fear of slipping on ice and throwing it out again so my partner had to walk the dog for me all winter.
About 3 weeks ago, hypertension was added to the list of things wrong with me. I have never had this before.
This is my attempt to record what I eat and how active I am being and how it effects my health and weight. A way to try to keep track stay on the rails.
In other words, a Mole In Progress.