Tuesday, February 19, 2008
I'm starting my third week of physical therapy tomorrow. I'll be back in the pool, exercising away, relearning how to walk and balance myself. And I enjoy it, honestly. But I'm so exhausted and in such pain, I'm wondering if this is working or not. I know, at least I believe, that it is working. I know it's got to get rough for a bit. But I didn't count on it being this rough. Last night, I was so exhausted, I came home and stretched out on the couch to watch tv. I thought I'd do that for half an hour or so, then get up, do a little cleaning, fix dinner, take a shower, whatever. Ha. I didn't move off that couch for hours and I lost track of time, didn't even realize how long I'd been there, watching tv and petting the cats.
I'm so stiff that my joints are popping and I'm groaning when I move. I'm so tired I'm in danger of falling asleep at work. My co-workers are worried about me. *sigh* And I'm not really sleeping at night.
So, this weekend I go home to visit my family and find out my dad had diabetes. It's really mild at this point and the doctors are pretty sure that he can control it with diet and exercise. He also just had to have some more splints put in his heart -- two of the arteries were 90 percent blocked, again. So the doctor has told him he has to exercise for half an hour every day and lose -- get this -- 100 pounds. I have no idea how he's going to lose 100 pounds. It's not like he's sedintary as it is. He hardly ever slows down. He's gogogogogogogo. He's always in pain too, which is undoubtably part of the reason he's gaining weight. He doesn't sleep much either. And well, it's comfort-eating, self-medicating. But Dad has never been very small, at least not as far as I can remember. He's on lots of medication for his blood pressure and cholesteral and now he's got the diabetes. Frankly, I think if they could control his pain, a lot of his problems would clear up. (Okay, not the heart blockages, but the blood pressure and even blood sugar are elevated by pain.)
And my mother...*sigh* She says to me that my excess weight will make me a diabetic by the time I'm 50. And she says this like it's a given. And then she goes on with about 'our family history'. Well, I couldn't let that go -- since we have exactly TWO diabetics in the family, and that's counting my newly diagnosed dad. So, I asked her "What do you mean? The only diabetics we have is Dad and Grandma." Which shut her up, because really? We do NOT have a history of diabetes in the family. She's just so bought into the propoganda about obesity that she's just accepting it as gospel.
She's obsessed with weight loss. She's got high blood pressure that medication can barely control and she's always, always trying to lose weight. And the thing is, she's maybe a size 18. So, yes, she's not small, but she's hardly huge. And frankly, she's a total Type A personality -- she doesn't know HOW to not worry or stress out about things. She's always reacting strongly to things. That doesn't help her blood pressure. I don't know if she reallly knows how to relax.
And I'm feeling a bit out of sorts about my body lately. When I put on my bathing suit, I don't know. I don't like my huge belly. I mean, I'm okay with having a belly. I'm okay with being a big girl. I just...I don't know. I'm looking at myself lately and going....really?
And I don't know why. I mean...it's not like my body's gotten any bigger lately. I think I just want things to be a bit firmer. I think I just want to be stronger. (Today, I'm all trembly and shaky. It's very annoying.) I think I just want to be certain of going into a store and being able to find anything I want in my size. *sigh* I think I'm having a very very very bad body image weak.