I’m feeling beat down. Pursuant to yesterday’s traffic faux pas, I was admonished this morning in the elevator for not checking someone’s badge. About four people came through the door at the same time, but I’m the one he admonished. Why is that Do I wear a flashing neon ‘kick me’ sign Thus far, I’m not having the best of weeks. I know. Toughen up.
To further amplify the state of my self-image, and concerned that I am teetering on the brink of type II diabetes, I went to see my doctor. Translation: still trying to get my hands on a metformin prescription. I had a convoluted tale to tell, and I ended up half blubbering out a string of nonsensical gibberish. One would never know that I’m a moderately well-educated professional.
There was talk about depression, but I said that I’d read that many depression medications have weight gain as a side-effect, which is the last thing I want. So the conversation focused on weight issues. She recommended Weight Watchers, because studies have shown that consistent attendance at the meetings has been successful. I’ve done it years ago, but I loathed those meetings. I loathed the whole environment. From the cattle prod feeling of waiting in line for the big weigh in, to the boring lecture repeating things that I already know, consuming a half hour of time that could be enjoyed in so many other ways, and finally the pièce de résistance –the honor of paying for this experience, week after week after week. The price of accountability. It’s just not for me.
This is the conclusion. No food after 4:30. Period. At least 45 minutes of vigorous exercise, five days a week. Period. Set small goals. Five pounds. Five pounds is a reachable and reasonable goal. I didn’t tell her that I’ve made that conclusion already, and am currently living with that guideline. But I’m having a difficult time wrapping my head around giving up supper time. What kind of people don’t eat supper It’s practically the happiest part of my day, the thought and act of sitting down with my family and sharing a meal. All those dreams of emulating the Cleavers or the Waltons, over. In my life, I’ve only known one person who doesn’t eat supper. Only one. Granted, she is teeny tiny and has no weight issues, other than not being particularly strong. I am mourning over a lifestyle I’m being told must change. Of course I’ll lose weight if I don’t eat after 4:30. That’s pretty much when I eat. And when am I supposed to be able to include vigorous exercise It’s a major accomplishment to get outside and take a walk on a regular basis. I strap my giant toddler into a stroller and push him around the neighborhood. He spies an entrance to the playground, and says, “Go dat way,” but I keep on walking, amidst much protest. The playground is the treat at the end of the walk. First we have to walk around, down and then up the hill before we get to the playground. Once there, he plays while I stretch. When we leave, chances are there will be shrieking and flailing of arms and high pitched screams and a toddler form flung passionately on the ground, very much not wanting to go. (If I didn’t use the stroller, there would be much more of this.) Knowing this is what I face, until I’ve somehow managed to teach him that we will indeed come back, I find the prospect of getting out for the walk all the more daunting.
And what about Mr. Gadget Sorry dear, we’re not having supper anymore. I can imagine how well that one will go over. But you see, darling, I don’t want to be Two Ton Tessie anymore, and I don’t want to have diabetes and I don’t want to die too young. So if you want supper, you’re on your own. Yes, it all looks peachy from here.
The thing is, about metformin, I’ve read that it has helped so many people regulate blood sugar and lose some weight at the same time, with the added bonus of helping some with conception troubles overcome whatever barriers were inhibiting their ability to go forth and populate the earth. I have seen these effects with family and friends, both, and was hoping that if I could try it, it might be a jump start to help me get and stay on a better path. The doctor did order an A1c test. In a few days I’ll know whether I’ve teetered over the brink.
Miscellania Says:
