Kicking my own ass

And not in a good way.

Thankfully my knee did not bear the brunt of this fall, but the bruise is interesting. You should see the one on my palm. Alas it didn't photograph well.

Three years ago today.

Gram was ready to go. Her body had been through so much over the years and the diabetes finally won. I was not there. This picture was taken a couple of months prior. You can't see my PICC line but since I had had time off from work due to that Staph infection of my third ACL I was able to come down to the Cape and spend a few days with her. I am so glad I did because when I was better I was ready to get back to my life. I will never forget the beet salad, no dressing, I was eating at Cambridge Brew Company for lunch when she died. I got back to my desk and my VM light was on, no message. Twin sis and Mom were here, and that's the way it was supposed to be, but still... Mom waited for me to drive the 100 miles before she called the funeral home. Her HHAs had come and changed her into the dress she wore to my wedding. There she lay on the bed with no light, no color, no more Gram.

Today has been a rough day. We came down to the Cape last night and I did not know that I would feel like this. This place we retreat to was her home. In some ways I feel like she could still return. I miss her. I miss her strength, her wisdom, her smile. I walked down to the bay side beach where her ashes are this morning. It's brilliantly sunny but chilly today. It was brisk but it reminded me that I am alive. Despite the issues in my life currently, I am here and my body is capable. She was so proud of me when I got my weight down. She couldn't really see me, but when she hugged me she could tell. I know she is still proud of me but today I really wish I could hear her say it.

95%

I got out of my own way this afternoon and left the apartment to go to class. I didn't want too. But I did. And I am glad I did. I had a great conversation with the BioStats professor about that pesky little statistic that irks the crap out of me. There will be a post about it.

In other news, I got a B+ on the midterm. Go me, numbers and equations and logic oh my!

I'd rather the skirt.

I am taking the quote below entirely out of context. I love reading Raina's blog and the linked post is a wonderful example of why. This passage jumped out at me today and I've been thinking about it bunches since. To be clear, I'm using this statement as a jumping off point for thoughts about myself. No one else.

Some of us would rather be fit, strong and healthy and put less priority on what our body looks like. I have shifted to 'what can my body do' rather than 'what does my body look like' and I am quite happy there, thank you very much.

I am pretty much the polar opposite of this statement. I wonder if I'll ever feel how she feels? Do I need to feel that way? I am quite happy where I am too. I have my own standards of beauty and style that work for me. I never feel like I'm not good enough when it comes to how my body looks (except the knee), naked or clothed, pre or post plastics. Giving it some thought I'd say this statement holds true from 240 pounds on down.

There are however, many days I feel like I am not a good enough weight loss success because I don't work out. Because I don't focus on what my body can do. It's amazing to me that I still feel pressure to live up to a societal norm even when I've gotten to where I need to be. The expectation that someone who has lost a lot of weight and kept it off by embracing her inner athlete, by being that woman who has changed her body into something powerful, strong and capable is something I am not immune to. I have thoughts of inadequacy all the time when it comes to my success because I choose to focus on the vanity, on the looking good.

Putting on a pair of gym shorts is literally painful, I'd rather the skirt.

Pat Pat Pat

Well, what to say about today's appointment? I waited, a lot. There was some small insurance hassle, he had no good news about my cyst and I have to go back because they only have Synvisc in the 3 shot form.

I also had to deal with an annoying PA today. I can't recall if I have met this one... but seriously, have some idea of who I am and why I am there before you walk in the room. This is not a flare up, I know why I am here and what I am asking for. She was fine after we established that pain all the time is my baseline and I am not interested in cortisone. I must be able to walk. Cortisone will deflame me, but at same time it will make my knee more painful. It actually needs more fluid, the right kind of fluid though.

Which brings me to the Bakers cyst. Doc wants it to just rupture on its own. I understand why, poking a needle in to drain it will still leave the balloon like sac that can just fill back up. But if it ruptures, like when you pop a balloon, the sac falls apart. Hard to know how long this will take. I do know that when it does happen the pain will stop me in my tracks for a day or so until the burning starts as the fluid seeps down the back of my calve. I've been through this and it sucks.

I do like this guy though, he is thoughtful and thorough and kind. He reminded me that I could come in every six months for the Synvisc. Yes I know, sometimes though I just don't feel like dealing. He patted me on the back when I said that.

I am trying so hard not to be overwhelmed today by my future. I've said before that I feel like I wasted so much life time to being fat that I am motivated to not lose any more because of my knee. That's hard for me today, lots of pain still to come.

Legs

I can't believe that in less than two months my legs as I know them will be no more. I struggled with before and after pictures for my plastics last summer. Had more to do with not wanting to take them myself and being unable to find someone I felt comfortable enough with to take them for me. I took a few with my iPhone and did post a couple, but nothing that you could put next to another picture of me and go that's the before and after. My surgeon has those and while somedays I wish I had my own, I'm really not that sad about it. It was not pretty and I spent years cultivating a look that disguised my excess as much as possible. Why show that off?

But at the same time... I think there will be some of my legs. If only because I am going to want to see the difference. I can't really imagine how they will look or how much is going to go. I assume my thighs will still touch, but how much? I have no idea. I just keep looking at them thinking how much smaller could they really get? I'm going to find out.

Nothing affects my mood more...

Than the weather.

Today is awesome out.