I love when we buy things because I get to file the owner’s manual away. I hoard them, just in case. It is a habit of mine that has yet to let me down. My husband is mechanically inclined and, I believe, has a super power that makes any machine’s mojo quiver in fear should it break down. Those owner’s manuals almost always help him toward that end.
Unfortunately, bodies aren’t as easy to intimidate into working the right way. Figuring out my own body’s quirks and machinations has been an area of much frustration for me.
I often tell my husband I was made from junk parts. He thinks I’m kidding, but I’m pretty sure I’m on to something. I know of no other person who has never suffered a major illness, that’s my age and has had as many surgeries as me. It started way back when I was eight and my tonsils waged war on me. My wrists hated me about eight years ago and I had carpal tunnel surgery. My dog knocked me down and caused me to have an injury to my knee that rivaled football players (no joke–I almost completely tore the inside bottom of my leg from the inside top of my leg–months in a giant neoprene leg brace, ugh). My gall bladder gave out and my intestines decided to squeeze through a small hole near my belly button. I still have one wrist I’ve put off just because six surgeries (my gall bladder was so bad it required two separate visits to fix) is WAY too many for someone who is only 39 and supposedly healthy. Even mentioning me and healthy in the same sentence is laughable because, in addition to the surgeries, I have other health issues like asthma, PCOS, depression, PTSD and anxiety issues. I’m a mess, seriously.
The good thing about all this mess that is me, is that they all have names and they all have a certain degree of control affixed to them. Not so when it comes to weight loss.
Weight loss is proving to be more illusive than I bargained for. There are weeks that I follow my plan to the “t” and I weigh in with a gain on the scale. This past Thursday I was expecting a gain for a multitude of reasons. First, I had spent four days at my in-laws’ house watching their dogs so I wasn’t in my usual predictable environment. I had to buy quick, fast food that we’d ingest in just those four days. Not the healthiest stuff. Second, there were doughnuts. Pumpkin doughnuts. Pumpkin must always go in my tummy, because it’s healthy, right? Then there was the pre-period eating frenzy. Ravenous was my middle name. I also started one of my meds again after months of not taking it. It’s notorious for weight gain–the reason I stopped it to begin with. Also, the day after my weigh in was period day. I was expecting lots and lots of bloat.
So, I was good and brave and weighed in knowing it wasn’t going to be pretty. And it wasn’t. It was GLORIOUS! Not only did I lose, but I lost big! 3.4 pounds.
Why did this happen? This is the very reason I am frustrated with weight loss. When it comes to my body 2 + 2 = 5. What the hell!?!?
What have I learned this week? Last week I embraced the fact that I cannot make the scale so almighty big when it comes to my weight loss. This week proved to drill that point home. I am delighted by the loss, but it makes me wonder if I’m going to show up with a gain next week. Lord knows I can’t figure it out.
If only God took customer service calls….