Twenty nine weeks out from surgery, and here are the numbers I care about:
- Weight: 273
- Blood Sugar: 94
I’ll take two pounds and be thrilled with it, especially after Super Bowl weekend. I could give a shit about the game, but every year I’m at a party anyway, and every year there’s a fair amount of shoveling going on. I don’t know if I’ve talked about this before or not, but I have a couple eating disorders (binge eating disorder and compulsive overeating) that I’ve been living with my entire life, and I’m sure if I had a freakishly good memory I’d literally die in an ocean of shame. Thank god that isn’t the case, but I do have two memories, both from the last ten years, that are clear in my memory as probably my two lowest points as an adult who is supposed to have dignity and self respect. One of those memories is from a Super Bowl close to ten years ago (I can’t remember which one). I’d be happy to tell you what I ate, but I honestly can’t remember the details anymore. There was a fuck ton of cheese and meat. Did you know it’s possible to eat so much cheese and meat that you can hallucinate God pointing at you and calling you a loser? It’s true. Either that or it actually happened.
The other memory I have a painful, perfect recollection of, but I’m not going to share that here and now. It’s ugly. Today, I want to be happy.
So look at that blood sugar. Since I’ve been recording it publicly every week like this, it’s been lower than that twice, and both times I was still on medication. Since I’ve been off medication, my blood sugar has hovered between 99 and 102, every week, without fail. I expected it to be considerably higher this morning because my dinner for the last two nights has been a salad with a LOT of fruit. And last night, I had half a banana before bed. Last week, as I wrote, I went to the gym twice. But it was only twice because I managed to tweak my left knee a little so I didn’t go Thursday and Friday. This week I went Monday and this morning. Yesterday we both overslept and even though I had something like ten hours before my class started, the bed was seductively warm and welcoming. My point being, I’ve only worked out four times, and I’ve taken in way more sugar than normal in the last few days, and my blood sugar hasn’t been this low since I’ve been off the medication. Nothing conclusive, but it’s something to keep my eye on. I have a hard time thinking it’s a coincidence.
Speaking of the gym, I woke up at 3:15 in the morning on Monday, to the smell of dog shit so powerful it was eating its way through my apnea mask (#sexy). I got out of bed and Cooper the beagle had shit all over our bathroom floor. So I cleaned it (it’s not possible for you to appreciate how tactful I’m being right now) and went back to bed. An hour later, I was so angry I was still awake. So I said fuck it, got dressed, and went to the gym. By the time I was home again, not only was the anger completely gone, I was in a good mood. I’ve been dismissing information about the various positive benefits of exercise for 35 years. What an idiot, I was so, so wrong.
I’m happy. The reason for all the fruit the last two nights is because I’m allowed to eat grapefruit again. I’m allowed to eat grapefruit again, because I’m no longer taking my statin, which means I’m officially off ALL medication! All. Of. It. The only pills I take anymore are vitamins. I’m so happy I could shit. I have no idea where that phrase comes from, but I’ve been saying it for decades and it’s weird. Really weird. Just an incredibly strange way to express happiness. Also, Work Brain is officially back. I’m on top of my schedule, and I’m writing again.
Here, have a graphic: