The Day Matters

I can’t help it but it does.  As much as I have gone to decent lengths to not put too much stock in celebrating milestone days for whatever reason the day does matter.  At least right now it does.  Maybe in time I’ll barely bat an eyelash.  Hopefully.

Yesterday 10 May was the second month anniversary of the day I came home from the hospital.  I’m already adamant about not celebrating ‘surgiversary’ or ‘sleeveversary’ days because that puts all the power in the skill of the surgeon.  I also gained almost seven pounds in the hospital.

For me, the day I recognize is my first full day home from the hospital.  You know the day when asking for artificially sweetened, and flavored zero calorie gelatin food-like substance is not me “not sticking to my diet” as one of my nurses put it.  I’m still rolling my eyes over that one.  My throat hurt dammit.  Don’t start my journey telling me zero calorie not-fit-for-human-consumption foodstuff is me falling off the plan.  Okay, rant over.  The day I came home from the hospital there was no nanny telling me what I could and couldn’t do.  All decisions were mine to make and mine to own.  That’s the day of power.  One of the first, was to never resort to giggly zero calorie chemicals in a cup.  In truth, I made that decision long ago.


Let me just say the above rant is indicative of how my yesterday went.  Minus a smattering of swear words.

My body was not cooperating with the ‘celebration’ of the day.  Ten days ago I was so close to losing 40 pounds in two months it was, in the context of weight loss surgery, a slam dunk.

And then…

Last week blew up in my face…in all the best ways.

One of our home businesses has quadrupled in the last 45 days but last week was particularly busy.  I was all over the map, literally.  I personally drove over 400 miles and was a passenger for at least half as many.  And, I stuck to my plan thank you very much.

But, I didn’t hit the 40 pounds lost mark yesterday.

Hold up…If I was sticking to my plan, why didn’t the weight come off?

Well since you asked…

All three major veins in my left leg were damaged by an injury-induced blood clot in 2009.  Excessive sitting, especially driving, allows fluid to pool in my tissues which cranks the scale up.  To help dispatch the fluid my job is to move and take a prescription water pill.


When your life is that busy taking a pill that makes you pee three times in one hour is not exactly possible.  So I didn’t take it.

I worked hard.

I ate the right things.

I avoided the wrong things.

Hell, I even drank my water and wore my stupid compression socks.

And, I didn’t lose an ounce.

In fact, I think the highest my water gain climbed was 5.25 pounds.

Because of the fluid issue, I do weigh every day but I do not record the numbers.  It can be a mental minefield.  However, I do know it’s also the best thing for my body, my health.  Taking on too much water can be life-threatening.

Once all these very wonderful business moments settled down, I did take the pill.  Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough to time to eliminate all the water by yesterday morning.

So I missed the 40 pound mark by three miserable tenths of a pound, or a small fast food burger including the bun and condiments.

So I was a little grumpy yesterday…

No, I was a ranting, raving, almost screaming woman who did not pause to breathe for at least 30 minutes explaining all this to my very saintly, patient hubs.

And do you know what he said?

“Do you know what I’m not hearing….All the positives.”

Do you know if I didn’t think it would hurt so much I probably would have jumped out of our moving truck and walked back home?

Positives.  When I’m pissed off?  NOT HELPING ME AT ALL DUDE.

Of course, that’s a lie.

He was helping me.  I just didn’t want to hear it in that moment.  There’s a difference.

The truth is there’s nothing he could have said yesterday to soothe me.

I learned the day does matter to me.

I want to be able to set goals.  Meet them.  And celebrate.

It’s also only been two months so I’m not supposed to have everything figured out.  I’m supposed to be having moments where things aren’t working.  It’s part of the process.

So after we took care of business for the day which, by the way included me scoring another vendor contract with a local store, I came home and took the damned water pills.

As of this morning, I moved on to 40.5 pounds lost…in two months and one day.  I cannot say today feels so good as to erase yesterday but it does feel good.

A day matters.

The day matters.

So does finding balance and moving on…


2 thoughts on “The Day Matters

    • I am! Perpetually! But, this is one of those times when I was doing more for others at the expense of myself. Sure, it was all good things but part of my journey is also putting my foot down to make sure I’m taking care of my journey too. If I’d been doing all I could do for myself and missed a goal that’s one thing but when I’m off balance with my goals then that’s not cool. It also taught me the milestone is important. For now and maybe even for forever. One day does make a difference. When I started making sure I was doing my thing the weight loss did happen…not on the day I wanted it to…but it did. I have never experienced that in the past. My complicated maze of hormonal issues never let me hold myself accountable AND see the intended result. I do need better balance and to know when to cut myself some slack and when to tighten the reins. This week’s been better. I also changed an appointment that would have sent me out of town the day before my three month because who needs to do this again? NOT ME. It’s a little tweak and maybe it wouldn’t matter to most but if it could set me up for a repeat then it’s just silly to try to convince myself it doesn’t matter. Giving my body every possible chance to succeed is my job in all of this. And, thank you 🙂

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