Sixty weeks out from surgery, and here are the numbers I care about:
- Weight: 239
- Blood Sugar: 117
Up a pound, and my blood sugar hasn’t been this high since September. I’d love to tell you that this is causing me sadness and anxiety right now, but the truth is, all the terrible examples I had as a child have kicked in and I’m just fucking angry. Bordering on rage. Seriously. Over a pound. 1.3 pounds. This is why I’m in therapy.
Angry as fuck…you know what? Let me just get something out of my system real quick:
m o t h e r f u c k e r
Childish, but seeing it in print actually makes me feel better. I can be toxic too, it’s not just our president. Anyway…
Angry as fuck, because I’m doing everything I’m supposed to be doing (okay, I could’ve been exercising more…I get the shoes and inserts tomorrow…also, I wouldn’t have been outside much this last week, the sky was on fire and it was 115 degrees…also, shut up) and I’m not even able to maintain where I was at, let alone lose anything. But as angry as I am, I’m doing everything I can to deal with it, and calm down. If I give any time and energy to “I’m doing everything I’m supposed to be doing…” that can so easily lead to “…so fuck it, let’s eat a fried pizza.” And I will NOT be doing that. Ever.
Several people have said, “Maybe you’re retaining water,” and yeah, maybe. That doesn’t help in this particular moment to be honest, but maybe? I remember from my early days as a diabetic that drinking a ton of water and exercise are two reliable ways to get your blood sugar down, so maybe I’m not getting enough water for 115 degrees. Honestly, I have no idea, I’m just grasping at anything right now. Any kind of explanation is comforting.
Worth noting: When I saw that I’d gone up again I was immediately disheartened because not only is it another pound, but that meant I was no longer at a healthy BMI. I was wrong about that, apparently 239 is right on the border of healthy, but the point is that for thirty seconds I thought it wasn’t, and I felt genuine despair, and the relief I felt when my app told me I was still in the healthy zone was huge. And, seriously, fuck BMI. It’s just another number, and it’s a less-than-reliable indicator of overall health. But the things we cling to when it comes to what’s going on with our bodies don’t need to be reliable, or even real. And as upset as I am over this one-pound gain, I’m still happy to have a healthy BMI, even though I just said “fuck BMI” three sentences back. The human mind is ridiculous.
The blood sugar thing has me seriously upset too, but that’s 100% rational. I do NOT want to go back on diabetes medication (not that I’m there yet). But my concern about this is real enough that I’m not feeling any anxiety about the country at the moment, which I have to say, is kind of nice.
I’m angry as fuck this morning. But it’ll pass.
Here, have a graphic:
