Well it’s here…almost.
I meet the new endocrinologist on Tuesday.
It is either going to be a line in the sand, a moment for me to step over and toward whatever is waiting in my future…
He’s going to be just as perplexed as everyone else has been…
And if he is that means I’ll need to change, to let go, to give up…
I know that probably sounds a lot more depressing than I really mean it…I mean it is depressing to think about…but what I mean is if yet another doctor has no clue about how to unlock my body’s death grip on fat then I need to stop trying to force the issue.
Oh I’ll keep all my good habits but the goal of losing weight will have to be crossed off my To Do list. If my body can’t, or won’t, lose weight then my soul has to find some sort of okay so I can move forward. It’s like my hubs says, with all the love in the world, “If you didn’t pay so close attention to what you eat…you’d be as big as a house.” He’s right. If paying attention to every morsel or step does nothing other than keeps me from being 500 pounds, then somehow I need to be okay with that.
I have been reading a few body acceptance blogs lately but so many of them are “have another piece of cake honey…it’s okay as long as you’re okay with your curves.” and I’m just not okay with that thinking. The biggest reason of all is both types of diabetes runs in my family so I’ve grown up being very aware of sugar’s effect on the body. Also with my other medical conditions sugar = inflammation = extra pain and who needs any of that? NOT ME!
Weight is part of health. Curve acceptance should never be about abandoning healthy habits.
However, if my body is never going to let me see a healthy weight then I do need to find my curve-loving voice.
Tuesday means change.
I’m not afraid to change but right now when I don’t know what that change is going to be I’m having a hard time thinking about Wednesday. Furthermore, I am also keenly aware that if this doctor thinks he might know what’s going on there won’t be ‘an answer’ on Tuesday and that’s also disconcerting. Tests and waiting and follow-up visits and still not knowing for sure…sigh.
And all of this is fine, good, and well…except today my knee is being a total asshole so I cannot help but dwell in the space of not being able to use a knee brace because there are none made to accommodate the fatness of my thighs and how if I go to my orthopedist about it again he’ll just tell me again how much I need to lose weight for the health of my knee. Then, I’ll just start crying, wailing, and banging my fists on my thighs and beg him to show me how like last time.
You cannot know the frustration to have a broken body part that would be made better through weight loss and to be entirely unable to accomplish that mission.
I don’t want a bikini.
I want a knee brace.