Had a doctor's appointment today. He demands I see one them every few months and holds my medications hostage if I don't offer up my co-pay and several tubes of blood.
I've been worried about this appointment because I've been afraid of being diagnosed with diabetes. My dad had it and I've been overweight and flirting with type-2 diabetes for years. It was with much relief that I learned that my A1C, while higher than it should be, is not in diabetes territory yet. My fasting blood sugar is within a few points of the danger zone, and for the first time ever my cholesterol is an issue. No meds, thankfully, but it's time for me to man up and change my eating and exercise habits.
I used to be a jock. In college I swam and jogged. I was thin until I was about 27 years old. My wedding dress was a size 10. I loved to exercise. Then at age 20 I developed two hernias and had to have urgent surgery. Thanks to complications I was unable to exercise for a long time (who ever heard of being allergic to silk? I learned that if you are, and you're stitched up under the skin with silk sutures, your body will do whatever it can to spit them out). It was 18 months before I was given the all clear, and by then I was a senior at Lehigh, carrying 21 credits a semester, with no time or inclination to exercise. After I graduated from college I spent 2 more years in nursing school, year-round, and never got back into an exercise groove. Then came marriage, first job, and in 2 years, first baby. And first weight problem. I gained 50 lbs with baby #1 and although I lost it all, I had 3 more pregnancies (only one went to full term) in a short amount of time. When baby #2 was a few months old I started to feel simply horrible. No energy. Skin dry. Hair dull and dry. And then one night while reading in bed, I felt like I was choking. I looked in the mirror and saw a swelling in my throat and being a good little nurse, immediately assumed I had cancer. It turned out to be hypothyroidism, triggered by all those pregnancy hormones. I have it to this day and doctors like to keep hypothyroid patients at "low normal" which is good for blood pressure and your heart but bad for your metabolism.
And I do have big bones. Really.
Anyway, I have a hard time losing weight, with all those factors. Throw in a bad back, an arthritic ankle, a full-time job and low energy...exercise, while good for me, is the last thing on my to-do list. Yes all of you exercise nuts, I know the mantra. Exercise will give me energy. Exercise will make me feel good. Exercise will boost my metabolism (actually, it won't, thanks to the low normal thing). All exercise does for me these days is cause me pain, and make me sweat. And I hate sweating.
But now I have this lingering fear; I bit the bullet this time, sort of, but I'm dangerously close to diabetes and hypercholesterolemia. Time to watch the diet. And maybe add some exercise.
I want a cookie.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
What Not To Wear
My daughter and I spent a few hours at a local pool yesterday. Let me start with a disclaimer- I am absolutely nothing to look at in a swimsuit. I am overweight and I know it. I wear a "skirt" suit with a top, which hopefully covers up the worst of the worst; but short of wearing a 1920's bathing costume, there's no way to cover it all up.
The key is, I know what I look like in a swim suit. I'm not trying to pretend that I have a good figure. There are a LOT of women who wear bikinis long past the time when they should have stopped. And I'm not talking about obese women. There were plenty of two-piece swimsuits in evidence on bodies that should never, ever be in a two-piece again.
First is the woman who's had a couple of kids. Maybe she lost all her baby weight, but her body shape is definitely not what it used to be. In a one-piece, no one would notice the sagging or pouchy areas. In a two-piece they're on display for everyone to see. Little lops of flesh and fat spill over the sides of the bottom piece, or perhaps the front of the top rides a little low while the straps across the back creep upward toward the neck.
Then there's the woman who is a little older than that, maybe late forties, early fifties, who probably looks great in her clothes. I am reminded of a time in high school, when I was given the opportunity to model fall clothing for a fashion show sponsored by the Mother's Auxiliary. That was back in the days when I was thin and fit. And oh so young. It was to be a "mother-daughter" show but my mother was too busy running the luncheon, so I was paired up with another mom. She was lovely and thin and looked great in the clothes. We ended up next to each other at the end, allowing me to witness what happened when she took off her body shaper. I have never seen skin actually fall like that before. She was still thin but her body parts were several inches lower, along with her stomach skin (she'd had 6 kids. That's a lot of stretching). These older women in bikinis are much the same. They may wear a size 4 or 6 in clothing, but in a bikini, all you see is saggy skin. Again, a tasteful one-piece (with a built-in bra) would look lovely.
Now we come to the adolescent who is still growing and still has some baby fat. Please dear ones, until you have a distinct waist, stick to the one-piece. And if you look down and your stomach sticks out further than your boobs, stick to the one-piece.
And lastly, I turn to my fellow chubettes. Ladies, I am not advocating a full-on circa 1920's bathing costume, but I am advocating something more than a traditional one piece or tankini. The tops of our thighs are areas that should never see the light of day, and certainly not in public. I wear a skirt bottom tankini with a long top, but you can also get a one-piece skirted suit, or swim trunks that go over the traditional one-piece.
My final word, again to my sister chubbies- please, when you're at the pool, don't bend over with your behind in the air. Squat down. Please.
I don't write this to be offensive. Remember, I know what I am and I am not at a pool to display my body. I'm there to enjoy the sun and the water. Too many ladies (and some men, but I'm not qualified to discuss men's swimsuits) bring an element of voyeurship to the pool, making it fair game.
The key is, I know what I look like in a swim suit. I'm not trying to pretend that I have a good figure. There are a LOT of women who wear bikinis long past the time when they should have stopped. And I'm not talking about obese women. There were plenty of two-piece swimsuits in evidence on bodies that should never, ever be in a two-piece again.
First is the woman who's had a couple of kids. Maybe she lost all her baby weight, but her body shape is definitely not what it used to be. In a one-piece, no one would notice the sagging or pouchy areas. In a two-piece they're on display for everyone to see. Little lops of flesh and fat spill over the sides of the bottom piece, or perhaps the front of the top rides a little low while the straps across the back creep upward toward the neck.
Then there's the woman who is a little older than that, maybe late forties, early fifties, who probably looks great in her clothes. I am reminded of a time in high school, when I was given the opportunity to model fall clothing for a fashion show sponsored by the Mother's Auxiliary. That was back in the days when I was thin and fit. And oh so young. It was to be a "mother-daughter" show but my mother was too busy running the luncheon, so I was paired up with another mom. She was lovely and thin and looked great in the clothes. We ended up next to each other at the end, allowing me to witness what happened when she took off her body shaper. I have never seen skin actually fall like that before. She was still thin but her body parts were several inches lower, along with her stomach skin (she'd had 6 kids. That's a lot of stretching). These older women in bikinis are much the same. They may wear a size 4 or 6 in clothing, but in a bikini, all you see is saggy skin. Again, a tasteful one-piece (with a built-in bra) would look lovely.
Now we come to the adolescent who is still growing and still has some baby fat. Please dear ones, until you have a distinct waist, stick to the one-piece. And if you look down and your stomach sticks out further than your boobs, stick to the one-piece.
And lastly, I turn to my fellow chubettes. Ladies, I am not advocating a full-on circa 1920's bathing costume, but I am advocating something more than a traditional one piece or tankini. The tops of our thighs are areas that should never see the light of day, and certainly not in public. I wear a skirt bottom tankini with a long top, but you can also get a one-piece skirted suit, or swim trunks that go over the traditional one-piece.
My final word, again to my sister chubbies- please, when you're at the pool, don't bend over with your behind in the air. Squat down. Please.
I don't write this to be offensive. Remember, I know what I am and I am not at a pool to display my body. I'm there to enjoy the sun and the water. Too many ladies (and some men, but I'm not qualified to discuss men's swimsuits) bring an element of voyeurship to the pool, making it fair game.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Frustrated Writer
I am a frustrated writer. Not that I can't write- I think I can, and others have told me I can. I enjoy writing "next chapters" or "missing details" from novels I have read; however, I don't seem to have the imagination to come up with a storyline on my own. Given an idea, I can follow it and maybe make something out of it, but I am unable to create any ideas of my own. I'll read a book and think, "what a great idea." Or "what a great concept." Why can't I come up with some good concepts?
Am I too old? Am I losing my imagination along with my short-term memory? Is this just another example of the losses that come with getting older? When I was a kid I used to write and draw books. Most of them involved nurses (duh) and I distinctly remember writing and drawing a story about a worm who happened to be a nurse. My nurse worm (I can't remember what I named her) lived and worked in a vast underground complex with wards and individual rooms and lots of other nurse worms and patient worms.
While I don't especially think that worm stories are appealing, at least I know that I had an imagination at one time.
People have told me I should write about my family. I won't, for two reasons. First of all, everyone in it will hate me. And second, while there are some really funny stories (and some bizarre and some sad stories), I have no idea how to weave them all into a book that someone would want to read.
My daughter and i attended a workshop on writing, hoping to pick up some pointers about creativity and ideas. Instead, it was more about how to get your completed material published. I blog, I write my extra chapters and missing details, but all the while I keep thinking that I could be doing so much more.
Am I too old? Am I losing my imagination along with my short-term memory? Is this just another example of the losses that come with getting older? When I was a kid I used to write and draw books. Most of them involved nurses (duh) and I distinctly remember writing and drawing a story about a worm who happened to be a nurse. My nurse worm (I can't remember what I named her) lived and worked in a vast underground complex with wards and individual rooms and lots of other nurse worms and patient worms.
While I don't especially think that worm stories are appealing, at least I know that I had an imagination at one time.
People have told me I should write about my family. I won't, for two reasons. First of all, everyone in it will hate me. And second, while there are some really funny stories (and some bizarre and some sad stories), I have no idea how to weave them all into a book that someone would want to read.
My daughter and i attended a workshop on writing, hoping to pick up some pointers about creativity and ideas. Instead, it was more about how to get your completed material published. I blog, I write my extra chapters and missing details, but all the while I keep thinking that I could be doing so much more.
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