The Real Reason I've Lost More Weight

I have been feeling pretty proud of myself for losing 51 pounds and keeping it off for more than two years. As many of you know, what finally led to success after so much failure was that I I used the BodyBugg like the contestants on The Biggest Loser do. It worked!

Recently, despite no attempts on my part to do so at all, I lost five pounds in a week, taking me suddenly down to 157. Oh-oh, I thought, because in addition to the weight loss, I was feeling increasingly lousy. But would I go to the doctor, despite my sister's urging? And she's an RN, so she knows whereof she speaks. Oh, heck no. Dr. Fat Cat was in, and busily misdiagnosing herself, but mostly just busy ignoring the obvious.

Then on New Year's Day, a bit of divine intervention. I was carrying a tray of food up the stairs at the entrance to a friend's house when I just fell backwards down the stairs. I fractured my collarbone, the first fracture of my life and essentially a minor one. Here I am a month later, and I am fine.

But here's where the miracle comes in. They had to call 9-1-1 because I was obviously injured, and had hit my head, but not hard enough to knock any sense into me. When the EMT shone a penlight into my eyes as part of my neurological assessment, he looked very concerned and gave the penlight to his partner, who looked into my eyes and also looked very concerned. But neither said anything as they were trying to deal with my immediate problem, the fracture.

In the ambulance, I asked the EMT riding with me what they had seen in my eyes, and she just told me something was wrong and to get to an eye doctor right away. Right away didn't turn out to be possible as I was confined to my house for two weeks, but I went on January 17th. After a very extensive two hour exam, the doctor told me the structures in my eyes were fine, but he suspected I had something he called TED, or thyroid eye disease. He wrote down the names of three tests, and sent me to my primary care doctor.

Sure enough, the tests proved I have Graves' Disease, an autoimmune disorder that makes your body make way too much thyroid. Left unchecked, Graves can eventually cause blindness, heart attacks, congestive heart failure, permanent hand tremors, all sorts of nasty things. I had the tremors; I had the racing heart; I had increasingly severe eye problems, and I was blithely ignoring it all until, and believe me, this is how I feel and will always feel about my accident, God told my guardian angel to gently toss me down the stairs, only allowing me to suffer just enough of an injury to require an ambulance. Why do I feel this way? Because the doctor told me that anyone falling backwards down seven stairs should be dead, or at the very least, seriously and perhaps permanently injured. I am not only not dead, but I have been given a new lease on life. Everyday, as the medications work a little better to bring down my thyroid levels, I feel a little better.

My challenge now is that I understand I was maintaining my weight not through any great discipline on my part, because I have very little left of the determination that carried me through the original weight loss. I was taking my weight stability as a given even though I had started stuffing junk back in my face.

Now, without the help of those way too high and wildly dangerous thyroid levels, I am truly going to have to watch my weight, like a real, dedicated, knowledgeable person, not like someone who just thought she got lucky with the weight loss wheel of fortune. Now comes the real trial of my nature and I welcome it, because ever since God cared enough about me to throw me down those stairs to get me to pay attention to my health, I am feeling more blessed than ever, and along with that comes a touch of invincibility. Yeah, I know. I've got to work on that invincibility thing.

Now orbiting more slowly,

Planet Fat Cat

They Don't Call it the "Alli Ooops" for Nothing!

So a few weeks ago I posted that I had intended to begin blogging again about my weight issues (and this time, I MEAN it!)... and then promptly disappeared. Not to be rude, but shame on you, the public, for thinking I meant it when I said I meant it. Really, as with most things, it's your fault, and it's about time y'all start taking responsibility for your actions.

Now that you've apologized, we can get on with setting a baseline.

I am currently a very svelte and muscular 220.5 pounds and change (we can believe in). And when I say "svelte", I mean "rotund". "Muscular" is also a very liberal definition unless it has recently come to mean "weaker than a new-born faun". But naturally age and some modest (for a hibernating grizzly) weight gain hasn't detracted from my overwhelming natural charm.

If by "charm" you mean "light nervous sweat odor".

But why get caught up in definitions? Is this a wiki? No, this blog is a place to find out what works and what doesn't in weight loss.

Sadly, I only know about the "what doesn't".

Oh well. That still has some value, especially when I tell you NEVER TO EVER TAKE ALLI PILLS EVER IN YOUR LIFE.

I could say why, but my mother told me not to talk about diet pills that make you mildly incontinent... in public... at work... TWICE.

You have been warned.

Pigassus? Calling Pigassus!

Yes, I am rubbing your nose in it, but only to get you fired up. I've already lost five of the 10 pounds I gained. Nanner, nanner, whatever in the !#!$?#!! that means.

I wish I could say I have been saintly and stopped drinking Coca-Cola, but then I would be lying. I never lie on purpose; only accidentally, to make things more wonderful or more terrible than they really are, but you already know this about me. Anyway, come on, Pigassus! Get back on the bandwagon, but do it carefully. I wouldn't want it tilting precipitously over to your side, you know.

Snigger.

Planet Fat Cat
Now back in orbit

I'm Back, Too...Kinda Sorta

My favorite commenter read the post of Pigassus...(hmm, The Post of Pigassus...that sounds like a book title) and wrote to inquire about my current weight. Until two months ago, I had been maintaining right at 162 pounds and a size 12, then I injured my shoulder. I didn't realize how much the injury had impacted my activity level until I stepped on a scale this week and saw that it read 172 pounds.

No panic. I am still a size 12 and 10 pounds is not an insurmountable obstacle. I started watching what I was eating a bit more closely, stepped up my activity level a bit, and I am already down to 171, so I will do the work and get it done. Who knows? This time around I may even get below 160. That was one goal I never did reach. I was pretty happy once I was able to zip up a size 12 pair of jeans with no struggles, and I found myself content with where I was.

Not any more. I can't let this 10 pound gain turn into a 20 or 30 pound gain, because then all my hard work to lose the weight to begin with would be for naught, so FatCat is back, too!

The Pig Is (fat) Back!

It has been two years since I have posted. But now, with the grace of God and more than a couple of Alli tablets, I have returned. And though I am nearly incontinent, both literally and verbally, I intend to restart the blogging and get on, at last, with the weight loss ... again, one more time - for real though - and I mean it.

You have been warned.

162 It Is

A commenter asked me to talk about where I am now in my weight loss journey. I never did lose that last 17 pounds, but I haven't gained any weight back, either. I live, eat and exercise in a relaxed way, not counting calories or worrying about if I skip a day working out. It seems I did totally change my body chemistry to the point where 162-165 is now my new normal weight. That makes me a size 12, and I did go buy new clothes once I realized the last 17 pounds were not coming off in any reasonable or rational way like the first 44 pounds did. I am content.

So Earl, thank you for asking. I am doing well and maintaining, even though I never did hit the original goal weight. I think one of the things that stopped me and settled me down at 162 was that I'd lost so much weight that people were starting to ask me if I'd been ill.

Just the opposite. I am well and truly intend to stay that way!

Fat Cat
Now in a smaller orbit

I am Now a Size 12

Shortest post in history. Just 17 more pounds to my goal weight and a size 10. (I started at size 18! Ugh!)

I am so proud of what I have accomplished. Still not quite sure how I did it, but it felt really good slipping into those size 12 jeans last week and having them feel loose and zipping the zipper right up with no trouble whatsoever. They looked hot!

The weight is coming off more slowly now, but it is still coming off, and that's the important thing.