Monday, December 27, 2010

Welcome Back

About three years ago, I decided I needed to lose some weight. I'd been married a few months and when I looked at the wedding pictures, I realized that I was much rounder than I liked. I joined a calorie counting web site, hopped on my Sinister Stationary Bike of Doom, and lost almost 40 pounds. I looked good, I felt great, and thought that the hard work was worth it - despite it turning me into a calorie counting nightmare to be around. I can remember nights where it'd be 8pm and I'd be starving, but I couldn't eat anything because I only had 25 calories left to eat that day, and even a banana had 90. I cried a lot those 5 or so months. I rode that SSBOD every single day for four and a half months, at least three of those months for sessions that burned 500 calories each. I avoided chocolate, pepsi, and sugar - my three favorite foods in the world.

But I looked good. Real good.

The last three years I've been giving myself a lot of leeway to eat/do what I liked, since I'd worked so hard to lose all that weight - all the while ignoring that the scale had started to creep back up. Yesterday I couldn't ignore it any more - I weigh again what I did on my wedding day.

Fuck.

So as of yesterday I'm back on the calorie counting website, and I'm back on the SSBOD. I'm going to try to be more realistic about it this time so I don't burn out so quickly. I'm hoping this spring brings us a treadmill so I can run again (running on the road is super tough with my knee issues now). I'd like to make sure I stretch every day, since it makes such a difference in my pain levels when I work out. I'd also like to take the dog for more walks, since Jax keeps me walking at a pretty fast pace. I hope you'll be patient with me as I begin this journey *again*, because I know I'll lose patience with myself.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Gack.

You know that cartoon, Opus? The one with the penguin who's butt falls off? He has a friend, a spastic cat. I forget his name (if I can find a pic via Google images, I'll post one here), but he is totally where I'm at mentally and emotionally right now.


Almost two weeks ago, I got a phone call from my husband. He was at work, and I knew immediately something was wrong. "I just slipped and fell on the ice at work and messed up my bad knee." I could tell by his voice he was in terrible pain. A co-worker brought the tuck around to him, Bear somehow managed to get in and get home. I was home and helped him out of the truck and into the house. Once I got his workboots, wet jeans and sweatshirt off him (he'd laid in the snow on his back for several minutes after he fell), we looked at his knee. It looked like someone had hit him with a bat. The thing was softball sized, so swollen his kneecap had disappeared. Already some bruising had started. I can only imagine how badly that hurt. I got him situated in his chair with an ice pack, water, vicodin and a whoopie pie and dealt with the idea that he may have re-injured his surgically repaired knee.

Now that it's been a couple of weeks, we know a bit more. Bear met with his surgeon who ordered an x-ray. There were bone fragments showing in the x-ray that he'd never seen before, but that didn't look "new," whatever that means. He immediately ordered an MRI, and got Bear's knee re-imaged within an hour. Far cry from the first time when it took MONTHS to get the d#mn scan. I'm hoping that we'll hear the results of that scan today. I don't know if this means more surgery, more physical therapy, or what. Bear is out of work until a course of action has been determined.

The fall happened at work, which means that this is a workman's comp issue. Bear and I are unfamiliar with the workman's comp issue, as are the people in his mill's office. We've been told they will "take care of it," and "that shouldn't be a problem," and "not to worry," but haven't been told how Bear is going to get paid - whether he gets a paycheck, how much that is, whether there's a procedure we need to follow ... anything. I'm *beyond* frustrated that we are less than two weeks away from Christmas and have no idea how we'll get all our bills paid and the remainder of our gifts purchased. I'm pissed that Bear has to go through the pain and isolation he went through this spring AGAIN, with no idea how long it will be before he can resume daily life. I hate that I can't fix anything for him, and that I can't help make his days better. He hates being home, he hates being injured, he hates not working. I can't fix that. I'm not someone who has a whole lot of nursemaid in her (because really, life is supposed to be all about me), and I know that I am taking my frustrations out on him. I feel terrible about it, but I can't seem to change my attitude or behavior. Stress has caused my eyelid to resume its incessant twitching, which is how my body shows that I'm stressed. Two weeks of twitchtwitchtwitch. Sigh.

I'm trying so hard each day to get through, to keep the mantra "this too, shall pass" on repeat in my brain. To see the positive side of this situation - at least Bear is getting help this time, and much faster than last time. But oh, how I wish this hadn't happened right now, when the holidays are putting more strain on us than usual. If you're a praying person or someone who's in good with your God, will you send some healing thought toward my husband? He sure could use a little divine intervention right now.