Sixty three weeks out from surgery, and here are the numbers I care about:
- Weight: 233
- Blood Sugar: 99
I’m still grading by the way, but it’s not as overwhelming as it was last week. I’m even writing this on Wednesday. Also, no, you can’t have a body paragraph without fucking evidence.
Somehow I’ve lost three pounds in the last week. I’m treating this with some amount of skepticism, but I won’t lie, it’s awfully nice to see a little progress again. I’m still shooting for 225, at which point I’ll still be unhappy with my body, but I’m thinking that’s a lifelong thing, so fuck it.
In all seriousness, at 225, there’s a healthy bit of room for me to put a little weight back on (the goal is to put on a little muscle, not much), and still stay at a healthy BMI. I’m honestly not looking for much more transformation, I’d just like to swap out a little bit of the unbaked bread dough and trade up for a little bit of muscle. And, I guess if I’m being honest, maybe a bit more than that. I have an awful lot of loose skin and I’d sure like to get rid of some of it. Some I can deal with through working out, but I think surgery is gonna be necessary for a lot of the rest. But anyway, yeah, 225 is very likely the final goal for this part of the process.
Speaking of transformation, I completely shaved my head yesterday. Check this out:
I’ve been threatening to go Full Picard for twenty years and yesterday I finally did it. I’ve been shaving it without any guard on the clippers for a few weeks, but yesterday I took a razor to it and took all of it off. At first I was of the opinion that it was way too much effort and this was a one-time deal, but the more time I sit with it, the more I’m really liking it. I might shave again tomorrow.
Also I’ve had a few people tell me I can start eating again. I know it’s said with love and good intention, but please stop it with that shit. For one thing, I’ve been eating the entire time. For another, it’s not your call. And finally, regardless of what you can see by looking at me, what can you tell me about my health? If you don’t have an answer for that, you don’t get an opinion.
But I’m doing my best to take it as the compliment it was intended to be (even though it’s annoying AF).
I’m…good. I guess. There’s still a shit ton of stress in my life at the moment, but therapy is pretty great. For things to get back to what I would recognize as sort of a normal amount of good, we have to get through this goddamn election. Even if Orange Julius wins again, at least the election will be over. This election has really fucked me up. I’ve lost a LOT of respect for some peeps, and it really kinda hurts.
And then we need to get a fucking vaccine and better, faster testing. But anyway, I’m good. Happy’s around the corner. For this week, I’ll take good.
Here, have a graphic: