You're Looking Skinny

I was working on my #ThisIsUs blog post on Monday, but had to walk away because I couldn't figure out how to combine everything I wanted to say together. Tonight, I deleted some information and decided that it was time to start a new post. The words that I wrote about how I related to Kate seemed to stand on their own and open up doors for new posts.

Yesterday, I was walking down the hall at work when one of my co-workers said, "You're Looking Skinny." I am definitely not skinny by any sense of the word, but I have lost more than 25 pounds since the beginning of the year.

Up until yesterday, I really didn't think anyone noticed. I really didn't think that it was any more visible than Kate's monologue about losing forty pounds without a fad diet or pills. I was feeling like it was invisible - my efforts, but with that small acknowledgement it gives me hope that I can continue a slow and steady journey to better health.

Are you on a journey to better health? Leave a comment with what you're doing to take control and be healthier.

This Is Us

Last week in my misery, I did get some quality time with Hulu. I watched the full first season of The Resident, and watched the season premieres of This Is Us and The Good Doctor. In my busyness of being a mom, working two jobs (one full-time and one very part-time), writing, and volunteering, I have few occasions to veg out and binge watch television, but when you can't breathe and talk for more than two sentences, watching TV becomes almost as attractive as sleep.

I absolutely love This Is Us. Maybe it is because Kate, Randall, and Kevin are in their mid-thirties so their life experiences are my life experiences. Maybe it is because Jack and Rebecca have a fabulous love story. Or maybe it is because it is just a well-written script and it pulls you in. But, in all reality, it is probably because I identify with Kate.

Spoiler Alert: I will be giving things away about the first episode of season 3, so read on with caution.

Season 3 begins at the end of Kate and Toby's wedding, fast-forwards to throwing out pregnancy tests that say "Not Pregnant" and a visit to the doctor's office where Kate is told she has PCOS (poly cystic ovary syndrome). Unlike Kate, I never was diagnosed with PCOS, but like Kate, I was told that my weight was likely causing my infertility problems. Like Kate, I have never been small. Like Kate, I had a miscarriage with my first pregnancy. Unlike Kate, I never considered IVF, but like Kate, I sat across from doctors that said, "at your BMI, a pregnancy is likely to be unsuccessful." And also like Kate, I walked out of doctors' offices in tears.

At her birthday brunch, Kate blows out the candles, tells everyone her wish for a baby and then breaks down and says, "Do you know that I've lost 40 pounds? Yep, slow and steady, no fad diets, no pills, no slip ups." Then Kate describes how hard it is to be positive, how hard it is to not give up, and how hard it is to never feel like you have a break.

As a person who has been labeled obese my whole life, I look at the medical community that is trying to be empathetic and say, "I know this isn't what you want to hear," or "I know hard it is to cook healthy meals," and think in what flipping universe do you know what it is like to be me, a person who has never been thin? So, like Kate, I have walked out of doctor's visits wondering when is the universe going to cut me a break.

Taking Care of Yourself

I haven't been this sick since the first year that I taught. I have my first-ever case of bronchitis and I haven't felt 100% since I can't remember when. In the last two weeks, my respiratory health has gotten worse and I am finally on antibiotics to help with the bronchitis now - and I stayed home today. I feel guilty every time I take a sick day. I was conditioned that you don't miss work unless you have a fever, but when you never run a fever, it's hard to make that case.

I can't remember when the last time was that I felt 100%, because I've been seeing spots in my vision. They stay in relatively the same area of my eye and don't generally grow or shrink. They've been there so long that I make note of it and move on. But, this week, I saw neuro-ophthalmology at the University of Iowa. My optic nerve is swollen.

There really wasn't more that they could tell me - other than my optic nerve is swollen and I will need an MRI and an additional test. Apparently there are lots of reasons that an optic nerve can swell, but the doctors that I saw really didn't elaborate on what it could be. They said sometimes it can be as a result of weight gain - but, I've lost weight. In fact, I've lost about 25 pounds since the beginning of 2018. To anyone else that sounds like a ton of weight. I feel like it means nothing.

I whisper that I've lost 25 pounds. I should be shouting that I've lost 25 pounds, but I feel like it's invisible because I need to lose about another 100 and I will still be in the obese category, but I will be comfortable at that weight. The doctors asked what I did to lose the weight. I said a variety of things. I joined Noom. I read The Slight Edge. I purged my basement. I started meditating with Calm. I focused on my mental health more than my physical health and that has produced the greatest results with my weight loss. Sure, the stars aligning to make sure that everything I did aligned perfectly helped greatly to get me started.

I got started on a journey to take better care of myself, but I have had a slip on the journey. I still journal and meditate everyday, but my use of #theslightedge and being a #noomnerd is not thriving right now. I want to live in the important, but not urgent quadrant of Steven Covey's 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. I want to make sure that I am eating well and exercising, meditating and journaling. I want to take better care of myself, but the first step in doing so is to acknowledge that sometimes you have to give yourself permission to rest. You have to give yourself permission to be okay with the circumstances life throws at you. You have to give yourself permission to be human - even if that means that you spend a day on the couch resting.