Healthy Paranoia

New Year's Resolutions? It's always the same:

• Lose Weight.
• Get Healthy.
• Get my shit together.
• The "shit" and my current definition of "together" are the only variables.

So, as per usual, I couldn't even get to like the second or third day of the year before anything resembling resolutions were a thing of the past. The good news about me is that my "New Year's Resolutions" are pretty much the same things that "I'll start on Monday."

This being Monday, I managed to actually get up at 5 AM and hit the gym. I know! I'm as shocked as you!

After my little hike on the dreadmill, and a well deserved hot shower, I slithered to the scale and stealthily climbed its heights. If I sneak up on the device, I can fool it into thinking I weigh less - right?

Umm - yes, yes apparently, I can.


365


That's 15 pounds since October, 33 pounds since March of 2016.

What's my secret? It certainly isn't diet nor exercise. Perhaps it's still the Mystery of Misery at work? Maybe. I've shoved enough candy and full sugar soda in my face to get me through the death of the only real father figure I ever known, not to mention the holidays - so, no, certainly not diet. I was sick for a few days, but I doubt I was 15 pounds sick. In short, I don't know.

And, not knowing is starting to scare the hell out of me.

I'm guessing my lack of gym attendance has lowered my muscle mass and bone density. Buuut - what if that's not all?

After a good bit of gym time last year, I noticed a lump in my belly button. My innie was becoming an outie. It never progressed beyond half filling my belly button and there was no pain. I didn't have health insurance, so I ignored it. I've got a dull ache from it now. It's likely a hernia.

About the same time, I noticed a growth on my chest. Just below my sternum - it almost connects my ribs together. Every now and then I get a sickening "click" between it and my right rib. My brain immediately went to "bone cancer!" and a dozen other nightmare scenarios. It's likely a calcified cyst.

Both are likely going to require surgery, especially if they are NOT what I think they might be. I also think both are the result of a sedentary 40-something going back to the gym, doing as many as 10 push-ups, All At The Same Time! Health through exercise! Bah!!

Buuut - what if that's not it at all? What if it is cancer ... or something worse? It would explain the unexplainable weight loss. I can hear a bunch of you screaming "Go See a DOCTOR!"

It's not that easy.

This is the first time in my life I'm afraid to go see a doctor. Seriously, genuinely afraid. I mean, yeah, my paranoia is, in general, out of control on this point, I get it.

Even without that, this will be a brand new doctor. I was spoiled with my last doc in Seattle. I loved her. Too many horror stories from my friends about asshole doctors. I have a story myself, that asshole has given cardiologists a bad name in my book. I really don't need judgement and bullshit from some local Trump Voter with an MD!

Even if it isn't cancer, two surgeries is going to be a shit ton of pain and trouble, not to mention piles of money. I'm just now crawling out of the money-pit I've been living in since 2009.

Wouldn't it be easier to just let my Malaria induced AIDS/Cancer kill me in my sleep? Or waste away to nothing over the next year? I know; no, it won't be, because long before any of that I'll be just another fat bastard with a frightfully painful strangulated hernia.

I'll call someone tomorrow. Fuck.

The Disappointment Factor

My recent mental monologue has looked a lot like the following:

"Look at that treat! I so WANT that!"

"No you don't."

"Wha ... ? Why?"

"Sure it looks good, but it's a couple of bites, it won't taste as good as it looks, it won't entertain you for more than a moment, there is no sexual satisfaction in that treat, that treat has more calories than a whole meal and you'll just end up disappointed."

"Oh. I don't want that."

"Right."

This isn't a new phenomenon. A while back I found myself in the cookie aisle in the grocery store on a Friday night. I put up a pic on Facebook with a caption that said there was no entertainment or sex in that aisle. I was lonely, horny and bored, not hungry. Since then, I've frequently had the thought, but just went ahead and fed my addiction and proved myself right.

The last few weeks, the Disappointment Facor has kept me pretty close to perfect. I've had some fruit a few times, but I haven't had candy, cake or real sugar soda in working on five weeks. I think I'm just really tired of eatting a bag of garbage, then being disappointed, then being angry with myself for having done it.

However ...

I eat a lot of fast food. This diet accommodates that very well, you just have to be prepared to ask for no bun and eat your burger with a fork. Extra mayo & pickles & bacon - Yay!

But, no fries? That sucks. No fries, no potato cakes, no hash browns nor tater tots. No Fries!! I've eaten a ton of Wendy's chili recently. Wendy's fries dipped in their chili is about perfect! I nearly broke the other night. I wasn't proud when I left, I was angry and breathless - those fries called to me that hard!

No fries. Sigh.

HFLC Me!

Week three of the latest diet adventure: High Fat Low Carb.

I tripped over this site - and pretty much read the whole thing. It's all about High Fat, Low Carb diets. The idea is that eating sugar, especially in the amount we Americans eat, is bad for us. All of us, but especially diabetics, should be cutting our carbs. They further postulate that adding fat, not removing, will aid in normalizing metabolism. Newer science points to this. This is pretty much the reverse of the 80s & 90s "STOP THE INSANITY!" attitude that you can eat all the baked potatoes you want, as long as you skip the butter and sour cream.

Not sure what the value of a pile of butter and sour cream might be without the baked potato, but I digress.

Back in '09, as you might remember, or as you can read in the beginning of this blog, I tried out Adkins/Low Carb, with some mixed results. It was a long fight, there were positive results, but they were hard won and frankly unsatisfying. I couldn't stick with it. That pretty much began my journey, and a roller-coaster it has been.

However, there were some things I liked about Low Carb. In fact, any time I've "been on" since, I've aimed at low carb. I like meat and veggies, and sure I miss donuts and pizza, not to mention candy and full sugar soda, but it was pretty easy to follow. And, for the most part, wholly ineffective. I kept missing the mark and just blamed myself.

The last three weeks have been different. Biggest difference: no fruit. Totally cut out fruit. The Diet Doctor site above kept calling fruit "candy from nature" - and maybe they're right. I'm sure other people do fine with fruit in their low cal diet, but as a diabetic, I've always been concerned.

Second big change: MOAR CHEESE! I'm lactose intolerant, but I decided to just endure the gas and even diarrhea. Neither has shown up. I'm eating cheese right and left and have had no ill effects, not even gas. Do I know why? No. But I ain't complainin'.

Third big change: OMG Olives! Coinciding with this new diet has been the three hardest weeks at my new job of just under two months. Two weeks ago I worked 60 hours, last week was 75 hours. I essentially live at work. The Diet Doctor site says that you won't need to snack as much - I disagree. Finding low carb, high fat snacks that don't require refrigeration isn't easy. Thus: olives. As a kid I didn't like them, now I'm eating them a cup at a time. Yum! Dill pickles, too.

In all, it's a big change. But, it might be a successful one. In March, I found out I broke the 400 pound mark. I didn't jump on the scale before I started this new deal, but I hopped on today: 380. Don't know if it's what I'm doing or just a continuation of my Misery plan, but something is working. Today I will be ordering test strips for my blood glucose meter - that's definitely a metric I want to follow. I'll jump on the scale again at the end of the month to see my progress.

Wouldn't it be cool to make my first visit to my next doctor be a "Well, you weigh 350, but you're losing weight and your blood glucose and A1C are perfectly normal" visit? Yes. Yes it would be cool!

The Misery Diet

So, for those that don't keep up with my life outside of this blog, since November, 2014, I:

• Lost my job. Again.
• Ran out of Unemployment Insurance
• Moved back to St. Louis where I am sponging off friends who are in even worse financial shape than I.
• Was unemployed until November 2015.
• That contract ended and I am now in my second low pay, high stress job.

In short, I've been pretty miserable. I grew up in St. Louis and for many reasons, not all of them logical, I hate the stinking pit of a town, a place I like to call "Lil' Detroit".

Sponging off my friends isn't good, the fact that they are doing this out of the kindness of their poverty stricken hearts while I bitch about their beloved home town makes me a huge heel.

Because I'm living out of a small room, I really can't have much of a love life. In fact, I've tried and just really can't come up with one. The fact that I left all of my lovers in Seattle makes this even more painful.

In fact, I pretty much feel like a lost teenager. I live out of a small room, I have a crappy job to keep the payments on my car, I have to obey the rules of the house and I don't have a love life. I'm 17 all over again, except fatter and with less hair.

To make me feel even more immature, I vented to Facebook and my own mother told me to grow up. Apparently having feelings AND showing them, not to mention being disgusted with the bigots I'm surrounded by is immature. I will now commence to bottle up my feelings and become a frigid prude like just about everyone else in this town. It's the mature, grown up thing to do!

Having said all of this, the last time I got on a scale, I weighed about 430. Today, in an effort to find that happy sex life (ever the closet optimist!) I went for an STD test. I try to go every six months, but I haven't in two years. Anyway, they got me on a scale:

398

I asked repeatedly if the scale was accurate and was assured it was.

398

I have been trying for nearly a decade to get under 400 pounds. I was so close several times. I have tried every diet I could think of to get past that 400 pound mark. I've tried positive thinking and meditation and anger and, well, it turns out misery was the answer.

It's not even good misery. I mean, I have a roof over my head and a full belly. A very full belly. Food is, as my readers know, my drug of choice. I have been eating a ton of fast food and candy and full sugar soda - so, food, indeed. My needs, for the most part, are being met. I am surviving. It's not like I'm starving or in a war zone or some place I can wear my misery as a badge of honor. No, I feel guilty about feeling this bad because so many others have it so much worse.

I also figured I'd have a huge sense of accomplishment when I crossed that line. But, I didn't do anything. I'm eating crap, I have a membership to the Y that I don't use. I just lived and ate and masturbated. Ta-dah! Thirty pounds gone. A part of me says, yes! Use this! Diet. Exercise. Work it. But, another part of me (an admittedly stupid but none the less convincing part) says, don't do that! You got the weight off by being miserable, don't worry that you've probably lost thirty pounds of muscle and bone mass, worry that the weight might come back! Worry!!!

For the moment, I'm just marking the milestone. I went to Arby's and got two big sandwiches, I went to QT and got a large Iced Tea with Splenda. I went to the grocery store and bought quinoa and cheese puffs. Confused? Yup. I'm working three twelve hour shifts the rest of this week. Maybe I'll go to the gym Saturday.

My poor finger ...

Been about a month since my last entry. Most of that time I spent burning off the remains of my anger & frustration over not getting the surgery.

Purple!

Last week I got my new blood glucose meter. I've had others before, but I rarely used them and by the time the battery died, the strips were impossible find. Heck, half the time the company had gone out of business. So, I decided to get a new in box, but older model of a popular meter off Amazon, the OneTouch UltraMini - in Purple! The strips are still plentiful and I think they will be for a while. I ordered some generic test strips and they seem to work fine. I've been testing my sugga daily, much to the chagrin of my poor left index finger. It only hurts for a few minutes, but my finger has tiny polka-dots. More like poke-a-lots!

I should have listened to my doc a while back and done the daily meter thing sooner. It has been a real indicator of change. So, I started measuring last week, I only managed to get on the treadmill once and I didn't care what I was eating. My numbers were in the high 200s and low 300s - not good. This week, I've been careful about my intake and have worked out three times so far - nothing super awesome, just some walking. However, yesterday morning, right after my walk, not having eaten for 10+ hours, my sugga was 205. I continued fasting and went to the doctor. She measured my sugga at 168. Now, a normal person should be around 100, but I'll take 168 over 300+ any day.

So, that's a metric that works and shows promise. A metric and method that failed was upping my steps per day. The whole 10k steps a day thing has been a popular meme, but it's just not going to work for me. I got this way by having a sedentary job: I sit at my desk, I think, I type, I click buttons and make computers do cool stuff. If I'm up walking, I'm not actually working. I need the job. So, that bit won't work. The pedometer apps for the phone had a variety of issues as well, making the idea of using walking as a metric basically impossible. I am, however, going to ask for a standing desk, at least I'll get off my ass. I may also get an exercise ball to sit on. Do a little shaking and grooving while I sit.

Probably the biggest difference between last month and this is my attitude. Frankly, I've climbed down off my own back. We are our own worst critics. No one has ever given me more crap about being overweight than myself. I'm trying to let that all go. I'm working on my health. I'm making progress. If I can't get over that, if I can't get past the fact that this process is going to take time and on-going effort, then I can kiss my own ass and go straight to Hell! Hmmph!

Okay, off to eat a salad with chicken and a vinaigrette for lunch. Y'all have a good day.

Too Angry to Diet

I'm done dieting.

No seriously. It's pointless. Ten years. One #diet or another, on and off. Where has it gotten me?

It's gotten me angry.

It's gotten me frustrated.

It's made me feel stupid & useless.

All the money I've spent on this gadget & that product have made me poorer.

What I haven't gotten is lighter or healthier. Not a bit. All of the above stress, all the anger at my inability to win this fight - a fight with my own body. I feel like a big pile of fail. A Fail Whale indeed.

Then, we find the fight is rigged. Read this article. I'll wait.

That's not the first time I've heard this kind of thing. I've heard this a few times. Certainly my anecdotal evidence backs it up. Even the numbers I got out of the weight loss surgery seminar were telling. On average, at the five year mark, people that get WLS have kept off 70 to 80% of their goal weight. The numbers on average at the ten year mark are 60 to 70% of their goal weight. At the time, those numbers sounded fab. But, spending tens of thousands of dollars and still, in my case, being 100 pounds overweight sounds, now, in the cold light of day, utterly ridiculous. At the time I was thinking, well, heck, there are 50% of people above that average that lose a lot more, right? The problem is that there are 50% below that average, too. Imagine the soul crushing horror of taking off 250 or 300 pounds only to watch it all come back.

I can't be that guy. I refuse to be that guy.

I haven't been able to lose weight. The game is rigged, I likely can never get down to my goal weight. What's left?

I see two options:

Option 1
Eat donuts until I explode.
Option 2
Do anything but Option 1.

Option 1 sounds like it would be fun in the very short term. Frankly, I think mostly due to my recent, but failed, Anger Diet, I have shrunk my stomach significantly. The mere thought of a dozen donuts is nearly nausea inducing. I cannot commit "donut suicide" with three Krispy Kremes ...

That leaves us with Option 2. What exactly is Option 2?

I've spent most of this week eating everything in sight, making myself sick (seriously shrunk my stomach!) and considering the above question.

Yesterday, Friday, I came to a conclusion. As we said above, I can't commit donut suicide and go to donut heaven. Further, I don't wanna die. I want to hang onto my life, such as it is, for a few dozen more decades or more. Being alive is all I know and apparently I'm a glutton for mediocrity. Losing weight, as we discussed above, is also a bit of a far fetched idea. So, all that is left is health.

That's right. Health.

For ten years I've been chasing the number on the scale. Every time some restrictive diet fails to give Instant Gratification Lad (that would be me) huge, lasting results, I give up and go eat everything. I've been on this stupid roller-coaster for far too long. Look at this blog. What's at the top? Before any content, there is a weight tracker - obviously I'm a bit obsessed. I'm tired of chasing the number. The scale has made me nothing but unhappy.

What makes me happy?

I have to admit, not that I haven't admitted it here before, but I like to go to the gym. The getting up early is the part that sucks. But, when I am done, the rest of the day usually feels a hell of a lot better. And going to the gym later in the day never seems to end well, if it happens at all. I like eating right. I usually feel better, well, after my body gets past some of the gastrointestinal issues of upping one's veggie intake. I like doing active things, I just hate the aches and pains, sometimes severe, that show up afterward. Going for a walk sounds like fun, until the skin on your sole separates and turns into a giant blister that keeps you off your feet for a day or two.

Oh, yeah, what makes me happy ... right! Eating right, going to the gym and being active. Losing weight, like a donut, only feels good for a moment. Eating right feels good all day, having gone to the gym does, too.

So, to sum up, here's the new plan:

1. Tell my brain, over and over, that losing weight, chasing the number, is a bad plan. Reduce looking at the scale to once a month. I think the end of the month. I may not even set a day.

2. Eat. Just eat. Lean meats. Veggies. Fruit. Small portions. The Big-ish Breakfast, Big-ish Lunch, little-or-no dinner thing has been good in recent attempts. Usually when I do this, I can barely choke down 2000 calories. If I fall off, get back on. Not the following Monday, but the following meal.

3. Gym. Lots of it. Really ramp up the gym attendance. Five, six, seven times a week. And why not? Just do it. I'd like to get back to Simple Cardio Monday, Wednesday & Friday with Lifting Tuesday & Thursday and a Cardio, Lifting & Swimming thing on Saturday and/or Sunday. Lots of gym time. Nothing that will kill me, just regular, everyday movement. Slowly ramp up the cardio & weight. I am envious of people with muscles, not to mention useful, flexible bodies. I want that. I can give myself that.

4. Activity. Go be active. Go swim after work. Go for a walk. Why am I watching six TV shows back to back? Go walk!!! Already went to the gym today? So?!? GO WALK!!!

5. Measure. My metric up to this point has mostly been weight. I have been good on and off keeping track of what I eat, but, frankly, it was a pointless chore. When I am careful, I eat about the same stuff everyday, I was just cutting and pasting from the previous days in my diary. Not to mention, it all felt like guess work. Was I eating 100 calories of grapes every time? Not likely. It was annoying. I think I'm gonna drop that. But, I am going to buy myself a new blood sugar meter or two. I need to get my sugga down. That will get measured and tracked daily. I will certainly track my exercise. I may not track my activity. So what if I went for a walk after work? If I am just out walking, looking at stuff, stopping here and there, that's not really organized effort. It's just being active. I want "being active" to be fun, no stress, just something I do because I can. I think I may try to keep myself active at work, maybe track my steps, try to spend 10 minutes out of every hour standing, stop being a lump in a chair.

If weight comes off, great. If not, I don't want to care. If I am still 450 pounds, but can walk 4 miles in an hour, I'll be a heck of a lot better off than I am now. That's new hotness: Health.

I'm pretty sure that if +Tonja Davis  is reading this, she's thinking "Told you so!", likely +Advocata Vasquetzl as well. Well, sometimes I'm slow, it takes a while for the wisdom to sink in. But, here I am, older & wiser.

Sick; As Predicted.

I hate this.

Every time I start a new diet, it seems like about a week in, I get sick. Some kind of sick. Never the same type of sick, but it always seems to derail me.

This time was pretty bad.

Ever had a sulfur burp? An egg burp? A burp that smells like rotten eggs? You feel bloated. There might be some diarrhea? Yeah ... it's a common problem with high protein diets. The protein doesn't get digested properly and causes a sulfurous gas to build up. There is bad stomach cramps and diarrhea. It's only happened to me one time before. But, yesterday, it started early. I had a lot of protein on Saturday, so no shock. It wasn't too bad at first. I drank a lot of water to flush my system. It seemed about done. So, I ate some eggs. Essentially I threw fuel on the fire. It got really bad. The eggs came back up. I was up every hour, running for the toilet. This went on all night. By 10 AM this morning, everything was back to normal, except I was weak as hell. I feel better now.

I got on the scale. 436. I lost 15 pounds. Mind you, a lot of that is likely dehydration. I bet if I got on the scale tomorrow I'll have put five pounds back on. Either way, that's the number. We'll see where we are next week. I plan to keep going with this diet for as long and as far as I can. At least a couple more weeks with this big calorie reduction. This is the lowest I have been in four years.

400 pounds has been a long term goal for me, pretty much since I started dieting. It's as much a physical barrier as it is a psychological one. No diet that I have been on in the last ten years has gotten me below 400. The closest, and this weight was also aided by being sick, was 418. That was also about four years ago. Here I sit, just 36 pounds from 400. I want it this time. I want it hard.