So Far So Good

Well 2010 started out challenging but is shaping up nicely, so far.  After subjecting myself to foot surgery only 3 days after finishing my last radiation treatment, I ended up being mostly sedentary until about 2 weeks ago.  I had pins in toes on BOTH feet. Ugh.  What was I thinking?  I couldn't drive, and could only hobble about for the entire six weeks wearing these dorky shoe/boots.  I was fortunate in that my work let me work from home that entire time.  I am very much a home-body, so it didn't bother me at first, but after about 3 weeks I was getting very antsy.

I only have two pairs of shoes I can wear so far, but I can walk.  Prior to my surgery, I was doing regular walks; averaging about 2 - 3 miles a day, 5 days a week.  I went from that to ZERO in a week.  I started up walking again only a few days after the pins were out.  I moved slow, but I started.  Each day I was able to hobble faster and faster.  Now I can go about 1.5 miles before my feet swell up such that my shoes get too tight.  In only about 15 days, I'm about 80%.  I am hoping to get the flexibility back so I can actually start running.  We'll see :)

I am determined to lose the pounds I gained sitting on my duff, so I'm consuming inordinate amounts of vegetables and very lean meats; very low fat, no carbs, and no sugars.  Hopefully the weight will come off OK. It sure does get harder the older one gets.  I'm determined to keep working on my eating habits and minimizing those that contribute to cancer (sugar is a big no-no).

Regarding the cancer?  Well, I have to go back in again in March and have a baseline mammogram.  I then visit my oncologist quarterly for this year and probably 1/2 yearly next year.  They'll do blood tests to make sure the cancer hasn't spread elsewhere and that I'm still good to go (I'm believing I'm going to be just fine). 

I can't express enough how much everyone's support, prayers, cards, phone calls, emails, and hugs have all meant.  I don't now how anyone could get through a cancer diagnosis, or any other debilitating disease, without the support of family and friends.  I met several while doing radiation - they had no one.  My heart goes out to them.

As a result of seeing those lonely souls, I determined to find a way to help them.  I don't know quite how I'll find the right vehicle to do that, but I'm going to be searching.  My first order of action, now that I can walk, is to contact the cancer center here where I was a patient.  I know there are several volunteer groups that work with cancer patients.  I hope to get that activity started within the next 60 days. (Goals are a good thing to have.)

Thank you everyone for listening to my fears and helping me through the struggle of last fall.  I couldn't have done it without you.

Love Tons,

Kat

I Thought I Died

After great soul searching this last summer, I decided that it was time to do something to really kick myself into a healthier gear. Up until about two years ago, I ate better, exercised more, and generally had my weight under control (except for the ubiquitous last 10 pounds that seems to hang around on most of us). I could point to a number of things that contributed to my spiral into this out-of-control-eat-whatever lifestyle: a couple of bouts of depression, schedule changes with my home-life that meant dinner times weren't consistent, health issues, and so on. However, those are really only excuses. I had become deeply discouraged, embarked on flagellating self-talk, and even considered plastic surgery to remove my butt.

After a few months of watching other parts of my body grow into pudgy marshmellowy lumps, I decided that I'd either better get it together or determine that I could be content being a soft and lovable pillow of mom, and someday grandmother. NOT! So I decided I needed to make some serious changes. I dug around in my closet and found my electrically charged cattle prod and started brainstorming the best ways to use it on myself. (Notice I'm still into the punishing mode).

I did a 3 week detox in Aug/Sept. What do you know! I made it through it, restrictive diet and all; I lived. While I didn't lose any weight, the nearly vegetarian diet that went with it encouraged me to take another step in the right direction. I began looking for fitness camps/spas. I started researching them on the Internet and making a list of what they offered and their program features and costs. My sister, Linda, really wanted to go with me too. Well I decided to do a quick one this fall during the one week my job could spare me. I hope to do another one this spring with her and maybe a few others I could rustle up to make it fun. I chose Fitness Ridge in St. George Utah.

I'll write in my journal entries from that week stay so you can all stay abreast of what it was like, but suffice it to say, I am still here on this planet. I truly thought I had died on day 2. On day 3, I realized I was mistaken. Day 2 was only a little taste of the pain that greeted me early in the a.m. on day 3. By day 4 though my body began to even out and I felt like I could really make it through the week just fine. Friday and Saturday were easier yet.

Now the huge monster in the corner of my mind is this: CAN I KEEP UP THE HEALTHY EATING AND EXERCISING? Of course I can't exercise 5 to 6 hours a day, but it is imperative to keep myself active and moving, particularly since my job is so sedentary. Also, winter is coming and the endless days of gray drizzle that keeps most of us indoors.

I'm going to do this. I can be healthy. I can eat right and be full. I will survive.

Where Did I Put My Big Stick?

I constantly beat myself up; and I carry a really, really big stick. I've been plagued with some stupid low self esteem thing, which I've been told is really a version of pride, forever. How it translates to pride, I'm not sure (I think I used to understand), but I know I certainly don't feel proud about myself.

My most vigorous beatings are related to my weight. Those who know me best know this is the case. I've been on a diet for about 10 years now. I figure I've lost hundreds of pounds over those ten years. I lose a few pounds, then gain them back, then lose them again, then gain them back. I keep extra ones in the closet just for the joy of losing them every month or so; just for kicks.

No, I'm not terribly overweight. It's not a huge amount of weight we're talking about here; probably less than 20 pounds. My family tells me I look fine. Right. They're being nice. But the problem is, is that I don't feel fine about myself. I spent all but the last 10 years of my life being underweight, even anorexic through many of those years. Now, since a hysterectomy, my weight has slowly crept up year after year. The last six months have been notably horrendous and most of my clothes don't even fit right now.

What is my problem? Why do I care? Should I give up and just throw out anything that doesn't fit and realize that I'm not young anymore and this is just what happens? Or should I continue to fight this and stretch my decade long diet into infinity and beyond?

I know I could fight this better than I am. Firstly, I used to work out regularly and I stopped that last summer. I had a terribly depressing family issue that kinda got me started into this downhill slide, plus I had my schedule loaded which made making the time difficult. However, now I do have the time and I don't workout like I used to. I do some, but not like I should. I'm way to sedimentary.

My second issue is that I do eat too much. Hubby eats out a lot, we go places, we see people, we do things; many of which mean I'm not at home where I can keep the calories in check. I know, we're supposed to learn to eat smart at restaurants. But, be honest. When you're faced with a great pasta dish with chicken and cream with a side Caesar, are you going to do that, or eat a vegetable plate? Hmmm??? Oh yes, give me the veggie plate! NOT!!!

I have to figure out how to come to terms with my lack of will power. Obviously I don't want to be thin enough to make the appropriate effort to make the pounds drop off and stay off. I should be able to make it happen. I must not want it bad enough. I must want to flog myself daily about my food failings.

Enough for now, I have to go find my stick.