The ever changing path
Friday, September 18, 2020
It's been an emotional rollercoaster since September 4. Lots of anxiety over people i care for but who in turn refuses to change their behaviours, anxiety regarding my overall health, happiness for my brother, sadness at the knowledge that my husband is about to lose a lovely family member, worry about the children far from us, and of course worry for the one child still living with us, It's a lot to process, and can keep progress on my own health journey from being realized.
I went to my doctor for a follow up, and my A1C came back at an all time high of 8.4. Despite medication, despite my efforts to reduce carbs and processed sugars there it is. I am not getting better. I am, in fact, getting worse. I gained 4 pounds since my last check up in March. Given this whole Covid thing, being isolated at home for months, that's not bad. It certainly isn't like my husband who gained 30lbs because he reached for soda and comfort foods. It still brought me to my highest weight ever...334lbs. My legs are constantly swollen now with lymphedema. My arthritic knees are painful most of the time. I can no longer stand at the stove cooking for longer than 3 minutes at a time because of the pain in my lower back. And the worse is not being able to catch my breath simply walking to the mailbox at the end of the driveway. Exercise is non-existent other than arm lifts that I have to take frequent breaks from. This is not how I want to live the rest of my life.
So I broke down and requested a referral to the weight loss center of my health care provider to discuss surgical options. We looked at my medical history, reviewed my food journal, reviewed my daily glucose. We spoke about different options prior to this visit, none of which have worked. I am at my last resort. Something has to give. I have already done my initial video watching for the center. I should hear next week about scheduling my first consultation of many. I have spoken to people who are like me...tried most of it and it wasn't working. This is not a quick fix. This is a commitment. This is the embodiment of the commitment I have been trying to make to myself for decades. There is no magic to be had in it. The surgery is the reinforcement of changes I will have to make. It will take a fair bit of support. I don't feel like I am actually getting that support right now. My husband is worried that my diet changes will make me miss the foods that he and the rest of the family will be enjoying. He is reminded of a time I was put on a clear liquid diet for 2 weeks and was sobbing in my bedroom every time he cooked because all I wanted was a cheeseburger. My daughter at home is supportive. She actually convinced me to speak to the doctor honestly about my fears. Our roomie is all "whatever you want, darlin, you know I will support you". My father...well he is vehemently opposed to the surgery. All I can say there is thank goodness he doesn't live anywhere near me and doesn't visit.
Yesterday I asked my daughter's boyfriend to move out of my house. I am putting that very nicely. I told his mother to come get him and remove him. He has many mental health issues, one of which is anger management. He throws things, yells at the top of his lungs, destroys his own belongings, threatens to commit suicide when he doesn't get his way or thinks he is being accused of something. He threw a 120lb mattress at my daughter. He missed. She left the house, ending her relationship with him and I did what I needed to do. It wasn't just for her safety or peace of mind. I sat in my kitchen for 3.5 hours listening to his ranting and raving. I had rolling panic and anxiety attacks. My PTSD was in full trigger mode. I can't do it anymore, nor should I have to. I spent 4 years trying to get him the help he needs. 4 years where his mother's answer was to give him some of her anxiety medication to make him "better". I am done.
My path has come to a crossroads. I can continue on the path I have been on that will lead me to my destruction or I can choose the new path before me that can lead to improved health, both physically and mentally. I can choose to be a role model for my daughter, or I can choose to drag her with me on the darker path.
i choose the path of improvement. Not because the doctor says I have to. Not because someone thinks I should. I choose it because I deserve to be healthy and I deserve the ability to get there through whatever means is available.
I am choosing me.