Yep, you read that right. I'm just fat.
The doctor said he'd just pored over the database at the clinic and the internet and came up with nothing to explain my swollen foot. So he said that because he'd seen a few varicose veins on that leg (They're not actually varicose - I was smacked repeatedly with a ruler when I was 18. Long story.) he was going to give me a diagnosis of "lymphatic obstruction". Aka poor circulation. Because I'm fat. He said it, not me. His actual words were "I'm going to write it in your chart as 'lymphatic obstruction'. Now lose some weight." Real charmer, he was.
Poor circulation runs rampant on my mom's side of the family so it really doesn't surprise me at all that he came up with that. I probably do have bad circulation. And yeah, I'm fat. So I guess that's a bad combination. He also told me to quit wearing flipflops. Tell me I'm fat, tell me I'm unhealthy, but please for the love of all things right and good in this world, DON'T MAKE ME GIVE UP MY FLIPFLOPS!!!!! He said it's aggravating my condition. Oh great. I have a "condition".
I told him that I had started Weight Watchers three weeks ago and had already last 3 pounds (No loss this week. I actually ate some fries in a moment of utter desperation the other day. And pretty much nothing but bread today to quell the nausea. Bleh.) He said that was great, he was happy to hear it, but I also needed to move. I hate to move. I am just not an active person and never have been. But I'd also like to stay a living person, so move I shall. He wrote me out a referral to the Indian Wellness Center (Free- can't be that) and while he wrote he tried to give me some kind of physics lesson about kilocalories and movement and pounds and ugh, I got so confused. That's why I decided on WW - it's EASY. I don't need any more confusion and drama in my life. Give me Points to count and leave me be. He also told me that when I lose 10 pounds he'll write me a prescription for Phentermine. Yay - I get drugs!!!! I've taken Phentermine before and it's good stuff. Makes ya high as a kite and you lose weight and what can be better than that? He also told me that on the days I don't work out, I need to power walk. He wants me to start out at 6 minute miles. HA!! Double HA!! I think you have to train for that. Right?
He gave me a starting goal of 60 pounds. The other 60 is up to me. I told him that I already had a goal of 100 pounds. He looked at me funny and said, "Really? What made you decide on an even 100 pounds?" I said simply, "At 100 pounds I get a boob job." His bedside manner changed after that. He loosened up considerably and laughed more. Humor - gets 'em every time. But I really am getting myself a boob job at 100 pounds, so why in the world would I NOT lose the weight? I want perky boobs again!!! Big, perky boobs. *sigh* I used to have perky ones, but they were small. Now that they're big, they're not so perky. I just want them to stop looking at mymn ankles.
I left the clinic and went to the Wellness Center, but the trainer guy wasn't in. He's supposed to call me tomorrow to get at time set up to get started. When I came home, I relayed all the info to my sister who had so graciously braved the germs to watch my children. She said, "Well, do you want to go walk right now?" I gave her an evil look and said flatly, "No." She said, "I thought you were all on fire to start working out and get skinny!" I said, "Yeah. I am. In the air conditioning. Duh." But walk we did. The temp here was 93 with a heat index of 98. We walked my driveway 10 times to equal a whole mile. I wanted to stop a 6/10, but she pushed me on. I cursed my duck who quacked at me every time I passed her, I told my son to quit talking to me because I had to concentrate on my pain and not his voice, I dreamt about my new boobs. I turned my foot more than once on the rocks in my stupid driveway and that wasn't all that great feeling for the gigantic foot I'd stuffed into my tennis shoe. My shins hurt, my feet hurt, and dangit I was SWEATING. Iew. I hate to sweat. But I finished that mile. A whole mile. In 21 minutes. Oh hush, you. Considering I am a slug, I thought that was good. Sis was only 3 minutes ahead of me, so it's not like she blew me away.
She was proud of me. I'm a total novice when it comes to any kind of physical activity. It's shameful to admit, but yeah, I really am a slug. She's worked out before and knew that I'd really pushed myself. I was proud of me, too. Sweaty, but proud. My brother in law was proud of me as well - and I took that as a huge compliment. My mother is always proud of me, but it's always nice to hear her say it. My family rocks.
Paul was his usual self and just grunted at me when I relayed all my new information, his eyes never leaving the TV. Until I mentioned the boob job, then he said, "I never agreed to pay for that you know." He's a real sweetheart these days.
I'm tired tonight and my foot really hurts, but other than that I feel good. Really good. I like the feeling of burning muscles and the fact that I can push myself further each time, but yeah, I'd really rather do it in the air conditioning.
Oh yeah, the kids are fine. They all slept through the night. I slept in the floor till about 3am, when I woke up and the entire right side of my body was numb. I moved to the recliner then and no one even stirred until 8:30. Of course, I woke up nauseated and with the diarrhea, but I slept most of the morning, took a shower, ate some bread (yummy, constipating white bread) and then took another nap while the kids watched TV. By the time I left for the clinic I felt better, but still not super. My stomach is still doing weird somersaults, but other than that I feel alright. The kids have had more energy than should be allowed by law to have the day after being sick. I just don't get that. I just wish Paul would get a massive case of really miserable diarrhea and be really sick, but can't puke. That would make me feel a lot better.
I am so awful.
But I'm gonna have big perky boobs one of these days!!
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Yep, you read that right. I'm just fat.