Weekly Check In – 9/16/2020

Sixty one weeks out from surgery, and here are the numbers I care about:

  • Weight: 236
  • Blood Sugar: 101

Both of these are excellent, and very welcome, news. Last Wednesday, I stayed angry / borderline rage-y all day, but when I woke up on Thursday, I put some thought into the whole water weight thing, and decided, if nothing else, it couldn’t hurt to try to take in 100 ounces of water every day. I also tracked literally every calorie like it was the week after surgery, and with 20/20 hindsight, my eating habits just haven’t changed in the last 3 weeks. So yeah, I guess it was water weight.

Oh, the emotional roller coaster of fucking water weight. By the way? When you take in 100 ounces of a water a day, you’re less hungry. True story.

After reading last week’s update, my friend Karen commented with the following: “Stress = adrenaline. Adrenaline raises blood sugar. Any chance you could take a 3-hour vacation?” And no, sadly, no small vacations last week, but thank you Karen (seriously, thank you) for the reminder. Because there’s been a SHIT TON of stress in the last couple weeks, but I’m getting a handle on it.

The terror of my blood sugar going up and the thought of having to go back on meds for my diabetes is far more upsetting than putting on four pounds or whatever it was.

Oh, also, (file this under “F” for “Fucking Irony”), I got my new diabetic shoes with the magical foot inserts last Thursday, and it was just in time for the air quality to become dangerously toxic. On Friday, the entire world appeared as though it’d been soaked in urine and ashes were literally floating in the air, and the entire west coast transformed into an apocalyptic hellscape, and you know what? Why the fuck not? 2020 has finally taken on the physical appearance of the monster it’s been all along.

Jesus. Flipping. Christ.

I’m…better this week. Happy isn’t the right word for it. Grateful, I guess. Grateful for (once my little tantrums pass) the training from the classes I had to take before the surgery, for the experience from the last year to know that sometimes “enough water” isn’t enough, and for having the presence of mind to know that anger is useless and that when this process isn’t working, it’s very likely because I’m fucking (at least part of it) up. Here’s to keeping things moving back in the right direction.

Here, have a graphic: