Yesterday found me in NYC doing a double header: Upper East Side to see my endocrinologist for my three month visit; and Upper West Side to see my surgeon for my 18 month follow up post-op visit. Both went well.
Stats from July's labs:
Fasting glucose: 81
Uric Acid: 5.7
HDL: 58
LDL: 93
Triglycerides: 92
Iron, total: 60
Ferritin: 10
T4, total: 8.6
Progesterone: 6.1
B12: 669
Folate, serum: >24.0
Folate, RBC, HCT: 715
Insulin, serum: <2 p="p">C-Reactive Protein: 0.1
Hemoglobin A1C: 5.5
Testosteron, Fr/TOT, LCMSMS: 38
Testosterone, Free: 3.2
All in all, not too shabby; though in hindsight, I am noticing my DHEA levels were not checked.
I wasn't feeling all too well, some weirdness in my gut, lower abdomen. A heaviness on my left side, which usually means constipation, despite obvious reasons for me to believe constipation was not afoot. *AHEM* And pain. The pain was intermittent in the earlier part of the day, but as the day wore on, the heaviness got more intense, and each time I moved my left leg when I walked, the pain became more pronounced.
I drank some hot egg drop soup, thinking that would help hydrate and usually anything hot helps wake up my bowels, so if it was constipation, I was hoping it would dislodge itself. I clearly felt like I was blocked, despite knowing there was activity that day.
I then set about the little odyssey of getting from the UES to the UWS. I decided not to take the 6 back up to 125th, and instead walked to Madison and hoped to hop a bus uptown. But which bus? I'm not super familiar. I know on Broadway the M101 or M104 will take me where I want to go, but I wanted to get from east side to west side and up town with a minimum of effort. Had I gone back to 125th, I would have taken the M100 or M101. But, I was on Madison, so I was going to improvise with the M3.
So the bus pulls up and since there was no route map to show me the stops, I clearly asked the driver, "Will this take me to 163rd and either Amsterdam or St. Nicholas?" And rather than yes or no, he got in a huff, which then made me DERP-DE-DERP and ask the question several times, thus making the driver even more hostile. A simple yes or no was all that was required, but because he wanted to be an asshole, he prolonged both of our agonies. So with an eye roll I got on, swiped my Metrocard, sat and seethed and even thought perhaps when I got off the bus I'd thank him for being so helpful, but thought the better of it, as he gave the next passengers at the next stop the same shitty attitude. So I sat and watched the street signs.
I got off at St. Nicholas and 163, and hoofed it to Ft. Washington. As I crossed Broadway, the pain in my lower abdomen was becoming more and more intense. When I pressed on my belly as I walked, I could feel a hardness, like a lump, and it hurt as I walked. I arrived at the surgeon's office with plenty of time (10-15 minutes), so I figured I'd try to give it the "old college try" and try to empty out even more before my weigh in. This was a disaster. I ended up being held hostage, but not like I've been held hostage in the past with an impaction. Just nothing moved. Searing pain. Flush with sweat and pain, I started to panic in the bathroom. I lost track of time. I was now late for my appointment.
I walked to the corridor to get my vitals taken by the technician, who noticed and commented on my limp and the fact I was in obvious pain. I go into the NP's office for our usual pre-game chat before the surgeon comes in. And once he came in, the weirdness set in. I started to feel manic and over stimulated from both, the increasing pain and the fact that I've now spent the entire day traversing both, east and west sides of NYC on foot and by mass transit. I was unfocused (which for me is VERY unusual, why waste my time or THEIRS is my usual attitude). At one point, while the surgeon was talking to me, I blurted out, "I'm in active pain right now, just thought I'd share!" I felt like a wild woman.
Surgeon told me the bad news, that at 18 months out, my weight loss, such as it's been, is effectively over, and now is the hard part, the maintaining. I informed him that ever since he put me on solids, I've been eating essentially whatever I want, weighing stuff out, eating frequently during the day, not depriving myself, and planning my "feeds" as I call them (not really meals or snacks, just indistinguishable "intakes") several times a day, as I do better with more feeds than less.
And then he told me the dreaded thing I don't want to hear, that he wants me to exercise more than this intermittent walking I do. I said to him, "But fat girls, we don't like to sweat." His reply, "I hate to inform you, but you're not a fat girl. You need to sweat regularly. And I don't care if you like it or not. You need to do this."
Since my surgery, pain has been a big issue: joint pain from arthritis. endometrial pain from the adenomyosis. and pain from when my ovarian cysts start to flare or rupture (which I think yesterday's pain was ultimately ovarian, and not bowel). So pain is part of my reluctance. The other part of my reluctance is well... I don't like to sweat, I don't find anything remotely fun, interesting, exciting etc about exercising for exercise sake. And if it's not fun or pleasurable, how the hell am I suppose to make it an essential part of my new life style if I find it so repellent?
Don't get me wrong. I can move. And I was in NYC on Friday and traversed the LES and LWS like a BOSS, and had a minimum of discomfort compared to how I normally felt in the past after spending the day in the city. And there I was, back in NYC on Tuesday, spent the whole day, and managed not to kill myself in the process, pain-wise.
Even swimming, which used to be a big thing I loved when I was heavier, now isn't as fun anymore, because I have to work so damned hard now just to stay afloat without all that extra buoyancy my fat used to provide.
Anyway, still in my frenzy after my appointment with the surgeon, I headed to the nearest pharmacy to get more colace (despite taking some in the a.m.) and some miralax, I then headed off to Dunkin Donuts for a hot cup of coffee, as I was hell bent on blasting whatever clog happened to be in my drain (as it were). So I sat and had my coffee. Mixed up the miralax in my Snapple in my bottle, sat a bit and crocheted, relaxed a little bit, and headed off in search of a subway station.
The day was beautiful. Sunny and warm not too hot, and no humidity. Great day. And I got weird-bordering on-lascivious looks as I walked thru Spanish Harlem, but I wore my Jackie O type sunglasses and kept my stoneface mask on and kept walking, hands in pockets, very relaxed, enjoying the walk. The neighborhood is foreign to me but not threatening.
I took the 1 down to 86 and walked to 89th. I stopped before I got to Murray's Sturgeon, and got a slice of pizza. I don't eat pizza all that often, and opted out of my traditional post-surgeon visit tuna sandwich at Murray's for a slice of pizza nearby. I ate it. The crust was great, the sauce and cheese, kind of "meh!" even with me doctoring up the slice with extra oregano, red pepper flake and garlic powder, it just didn't "do it" for me like I had hoped. Anyway, I headed to Murray's to stock up on smoked whitefish salad, gefilte, some herring, and a knish for the husband, then headed back to Grand Central, to sit and wait for the husband.
I went upstairs to the market, and got some things to throw together for dinner: some fresh tilapia for the grill; and some carrot salad (fabulous!) and some lebanese potato salad (WTF? horrid), and of course some cheese (for me). By the time I came back downstairs, the husband had arrived and we headed home.
All in all a good day, but I have some hard work ahead of me in the six month span until I see my surgeon again. I need to change my mindset from a fixed mindset (I won't attempt anything unless success is NLT 90% predictable) to a growth mindset.
Personally and professionally I'm very trapped. Either I find a new job and that facilitates other changes in my life, or I somehow or another get more active and THAT will facilitate other changes in my life. But some ACTIVE change needs to occur, as I'm stagnating.
2>
No comments:
Post a Comment