Thirty eight weeks out from surgery, and here are the numbers I care about:
- Weight: 256
- Blood Sugar: 74
Down a pound, and goddamn, am I happy about that. I haven’t exercised as much as I should’ve, but in my defense, I prepped three classes (like, for “damn near the entire term” prepped) in three days last week. It was super unhealthy, but the anxiety from not being ready to teach this week was severe. And it’s been pouring the last two days (still raining as I type this, way too early in the morning), and I haven’t wanted to go outside for a walk. I did force myself outside a little, but they were shorter walks than I’m capable of.
What I have been doing is paying close attention to what I eat, logging meals as often as possible, and trying to be present and aware. Last week was not great. The quarantine is a fucking drag, and I’m struggling with depression. Doing my best to stay on top of it. I’m refusing to don the sweatpants-and-bathrobe uniform just yet.
Blood sugar’s 74! That’s the lowest it’s ever been, since I started paying attention, and it was so low, I actually had to google it and make sure it was still healthy (it is). I had zero citrus, zero starchy shit, and very little fruit yesterday (not by design, it just worked out that way), and wow. I guess the few walks I did take paid off at least a little bit.
I’m happy, and struggling, but I’m happy. I’m glad to be teaching full time again, but I’d obviously rather be back in the classroom. Still, I’ve had first sessions with all three CSUSB classes, and they all went well, my poetry class especially so. As I’ve told all my students now, nothing about this shit is ideal, but it’s so much better than getting a potentially fatal disease, and sometimes that’s the only silver lining we get.
Here, have a graphic:
