Well, shit. I got on the scale. 243. Enough is enough. Somewhere I’m fooling myself, and this time the scale was a friend. I’ve been playing with 243 for a month now, and I think I’m fooling myself with some of my food choices.
1. Goldfish. They’re my weakness. Originally the serving was 51 or 55 of the beastly little suckers (whole-grain, of course, as if that made a difference) and they fit into a 5 oz. cup. But I fill a 5 oz. cup as full as I can get it, and I do it a number of times a day. I think I need to cut them out entirely, replaced them with some kind of Kashi cracker I can nibble on slowly.
2. Salads. I tell myself salads are basically zero calories. I don’t slather on the dressing and I use Paul Newman’s Balsamic Lite. But … in my salad I have roast chicken (not a huge amount), a hard boiled egg, a generous handful of craisins, shaved almonds, a sprinkling of asiago cheese, and about 8 to 10 Texas Toast croutons.
That ain’t zero calories.
3. Bran cereal. My body needs and loves bran cereal. So late at night I’ve been having a huge bowl of it (probably 3 times the normal serving) with fat free milk, and I’ve been justifying it because my body wants it. Continue reading
It’s 4AM on Friday, so I have officially missed all three days I was supposed to post. I’ll get caught up this weekend, but for right now, I’m missing Krissie (it’s like the light leaves the room when she’s gone), and I’ve got the vampire doctor tomorrow (he always drains my blood), but today I saw my nurse practitioner for the first time since she said, “You have diabetes. Things have to change.” Today, she looked at my stats and sat back and said, “I”m thrilled with you.” By their scales (not mine), I’ve lost twelve pounds. I’ve also improved my glucose levels to pre-diabetic levels (still not healthy but so much better) and dropped my blood pressure into the high-normal range. I told her, “I changed my eating; next is exercise,” and she said that was fine. I think she was so happy that I’d actually made changes that she trusted me that I’d move on to exercise. And I will. I just couldn’t Change All The Things at once. She talked about how hard it was to see people with diabetes ignore the changes they had to make, and how frustrating it was because diabetes is an entirely manageable disease. She said, “I have a thirty-six-year-old patient with breast cancer right now, and she’d kill to have diabetes.” And that’s the thing. It’s manageable. The AMD, I can’t do a damn thing about except take my mega-AREDS vitamins and wear sunglasses, and I’m still going to lose my sight. But diabetes? I can kick that. The weight loss has been ridiculously easy because the diabetes meds are appetite killers and because I can’t eat sugar. Turns out, if you eliminate sugar from the diet of a person who sedates herself with the stuff, there aren’t a lot of calories left. I’m actually having a hard time eating the 1400 calories a day I’m supposed to because I naturally gravitate to sweets. I’ve never eaten so much salad and so many apples in my life, and frankly, if I never saw another leaf in a bowl again, I’d be okay with that. But I’m not suffering. And I do think it’ll be easy to maintain since I don’t really have a choice. I’m diabetic. I can’t have that stuff. Moving on . . .
Not dead yet.
Okay, the scale hasn’t moved. It’s at 244 and I’m getting annoyed. Mind you, I can’t get my rings off when they usually slip free, so I imagine there’s a pound or two of water weight, but all the rationalization in the world won’t work right now. I’m grumpy. Annoyed.
This is the moment when I usually fall on Entenmann’s Raspberry coffee cake like Cookie Monster (always my favorite Sesame Street character, though you’d think it would be the Count). I like it frozen (which I discovered when I froze one to keep from eating it). I like it unfrozen as well. I like it any way I can get it. Continue reading
Personally I have a love/hate relationship with scales. When I’m stubbornly eating what I want (for whatever reasons, usually emotional) then I pay no attention to them, refuse them at the doctor’s office and if they insist I close my eyes and refuse to hear the number. Continue reading
I put this photo up on the first day because for me it’s the epitome of fat and unattractive, so that as I evolved into the sleeker, stronger version there’d be a good comparison. And Jenny said “you should use that picture as your avatar, it’s gorgeous.”
I told her she was out of her mind. She insisted. Lani chimed in (“so pretty”). Richie chimed in over my shoulder (“beautiful”).
I don’t get it. Continue reading