Twenty six weeks out from surgery, and here are the numbers I care about:
- Weight: 280
- Blood Sugar: 99
I have no idea how I lost five pounds while recovering from The Ick, but that’s apparently what happened. I’m two weeks into the winter term, and work brain has. Not. Kicked. In. I can’t bring myself to have focus on the things I need to be focusing on, like the second volume of my book, or the grading, or the whole going to the gym thing. On the plus side, I have been more active. I’m walking regularly, which the dogs are loving.
Hey speaking of the dogs, why is it more expensive to take care of doggie health than it is to take care of human health? I took my oldest dog to the vet yesterday and they wanted to charge me somewhere between $800-$900 for fucking diagnostics. Not treatment…just to figure out what’s up with her. It’s almost like the industry is preying on the fears and concerns of pet owners because it can.
Anyway, I’ve been walking more and I bought a Fitbit. It’s not as nice as the Rolex (it was a gift, I do NOT have Rolex money) I’ve been wearing, but it’s a whole lot more useful. Via the Fitbit, I’ve discovered that my resting heart rate is frequently 20 points lower than it used to be. I’m not claiming that as an exact figure yet, it’s only been a few days, but hey, that’s a good thing, yes?
I’m happy. But I’m also increasingly anxious. I need to get my head screwed on right, I’ve only got another five weeks of this amazingly kind schedule and then my life gets monstrously busy again. Time to get back to work dammit!
Here, have a graphic: