One hundred and two weeks out from surgery, and here are the numbers I care about:
- Weight: 241
Up another .7 pounds. Ugh. It’s not a big deal, but I do get tired of the up and down bullshit. It’s been a lot of work this week, I’m still prepping for a class I’ve never taught before. I actually blew off the gym on Thursday (I’m writing this on Sunday again) because I still had so much work to do. I’m having flashbacks to my first year as a teacher (with a little less panic and anxiety).
On the other hand, I was at the gym every other day this week, so yay. Also I had some blood work done on Monday and my A1C is 4.7, which is exactly what it was last August, which is fantastic. My primary care guy emailed me and asked what meds I was taking and I told him I haven’t been taking anything (not counting the more recent brain candy) since Halloween of 2019. He said that was great but that I should be taking a statin. I think he’s wrong, which is absolutely hubris, but I don’t have time to dick around with it this week. I’ll be running his suggestion by my bariatric doctors when I have my two-year follow up in a few weeks.
Speaking of brain candy, my psychiatrist said she wanted to put me on something stronger the next time we spoke. I honestly can’t remember if I’ve already written about this or not and I’m totally too lazy to check right now, but she just switched me from Lexapro to Celexa, and I told her giving me something stronger after only a month of the new drug didn’t sit right with me and (I’m giving you a very short version of this story) her response was that if I didn’t like the new med I could stop taking it so “it doesn’t matter.” I’ve talked about this with my head shrinker and I’ve decided that if she insists on this without listening to me, I’m going to be finding a new psychiatrist. So, to sum up:
- I have two doctors who want me to be on pills I don’t want to be taking (yet), however
- Even though I trust both of these doctors and their experience, and
- Even though ALL doctors aren’t arrogant, doctors are still famously arrogant, and
- No one knows your body and mind better than you, and you absolutely, 100% HAVE to be your own advocate, and
- Even though I totally believe in taking medication when it’s necessary, I want to know it’s necessary, so
- It might be time for new doctors.
- We’ll see.
Three things I’m grateful for:
- A modicum of financial security. We just dropped $400 to have our palm tree trimmed (the dead fronds were falling regularly and they’re heavy enough that they sound like a body hitting the ground), we had a door guy out to the house the other day to take some measurements for two new doors, and we have a lot of work being done to the front and back yards starting next weekend. None of it’s cheap and we still have enough money to get the hell out of town for the stupid fireworks bullshit that terrifies our dogs.
- Democracy. While it lasts. I love my country but it needs to be spanked.
- A quiet weekend with my amazing wife and our dogs.
I’m good this week. I’m busy as hell, but it’s a good distraction from the fear I’m dealing with over next week. On Wednesday Annette is having a pretty complicated surgery, and it’s scary as fuck. So busy is good.
Here, have a graphic:
