Me Want a Cookie!!

Sorry about yesterday people..

Here’s the deal, I’ve gotten all kinds of fat lately. And this is not a weight loss blog and it never will be, but it is my blog and I need to lose some weight, so it will get mentioned every now and then. And I also hate being all needy and whiny, but it's bound to happen sometimes..

See in high school I was weighing in around 135 or so. Then I got pregnant with Oliver and put on about 60 lbs with that.

And I lost most of it, ending up at about 150.

Then Tallulah came along and I put on another 60 lbs during that pregnancy and I only lost about 30 lbs of that.

So 3 years ago I was weighing in at around 180 lbs.


And I don’t look huge at 180.


I look chubby.

I’ve been very blessed with this great hourglass figure - if I had boobs then I’d be Betty fucking Boop.

But 180 lbs is too much for me.

I have this theory.

Yes, another one.

I think that you have to pick a weight. And I don’t think it matters what it is, but I think you have to pick a weight that it’s not okay with you to go over. Because if you don’t then where do you stop??

I look fine at 180, so really, what’s wrong with 200?? I bet I don’t look bad there either. But then before you know it, I’ll be 220, and really, what’s the big deal?? So now I’m 250 and now I’m not chubby, I’m certifiably fat, but hey, I’ve still got my hourglass, so really, what’s wrong with 250?? Let’s move on to 275.. And on, and on until the number is too overwhelming to lose.



The weight I’ve picked is 150.



I’m not okay weighing over 150 lbs.



And I don’t think that’s unreasonable. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s still overweight for me according to that whole BMI thing.



Anyway.

Over the last 3 years, I’ve gotten my butt in gear and started making better food choices: not eating much fried, and if there’s a choice, I always choose white meat over red, more veggies, lighter meals, eating breakfast, not too much junk food, etc.

And it really paid off. I went from 180 to 146. It came off slowly, and I didn’t always lose, but if I wasn’t losing, I knew why, I knew that I hadn’t been eating as I should, and after a few weeks of being back on track, the pounds started to come off again.



And I kept the weight off for over a year, long enough to get rid of my fat clothes.



Then in November, I started gaining.



It was slow, and I didn’t really think anything of it at first, it was the holidays for crying out loud, and I was getting married, there was a party around every corner.



Then in February it was still going on. I hit 160 something and got fed up. I went hard core and started making smoothies at home (so that I knew exactly what was in those bad boys) and I’d have one for breakfast and one for lunch and then have some chicken and a small salad for dinner, obviously with some healthy snacks thrown in between.

For three weeks I did this.


My calorie intake was less than 1200.



I gained 10 lbs.



Then my migraines got worse and started giving me some bizarre visual auras, so I went to a headache specialist, Dr. Headache, in May who changed my meds. – Which, by the way, worked great.



In June I went to Dr. No Personality to talk about my weight and he ran tests on everything, but was pretty convinced it was the meds that Dr. Headache put me on. Even though the weight gain started in November and the meds started in May.

The blood tests were all fine when I went back to Dr. No Personality last month and he took me off of one of the meds Dr. Headache put me on, put me back on another medication that doesn’t work and makes me sleepy and said he wanted to give it 2 more months to see if that helped.

So now here we are, I’m exhausted, still gaining weight and my migraines are back full force.



Thus the pizza splurge and yesterday's post.



I feel like my body has betrayed me, and my Doctor's not taking me seriously, plus I hurt and I’m tired, so I’m a little depressed about the whole thing, which makes me want a cookie, or a whole pizza, or both.

Why I'm Going to Become a Junky

So I went to a new doctor for my migraines. And he gave me some different preventative and they're great - we've moved from 7 a week to 3 a week.
But he gave me Treximet for the actual pain, and I'm one of those read-the-pharmacy-packet people, and it said it could cause Serotonin Syndrome*, which I've already had.
So I didn't take it, and I called the doctor's office last Monday.

And he yelled at me.

Something having to do with "wrong diagnosis" and "I'm fucking brilliant just do what I say you dumb bitch".

For some reason, that makes me want to go back to the doctor who couldn't help me, because at least he didn't think I was an idiot for reading up on chemicals someone that I don't know that well wants me to put in my body.

And that doctor thinks that Vicodin should be my friend. So I think I'll just give up and be a junky.

*I do of course realize that's a very rare side effect. I just wasted to check and see. I actually have no idea what it really means and I thought I should check and see if I would get sick from my drugs.

Assuming that Doctor Knows Best..

I went to a new doctor for my migraines. And I am one of those people who actually read the prescription pamphlets. He put me on two new drugs to prevent migraines. One is normally used to treat high blood pressure (I have low blood pressure) and one was for depression (I may be crazy, but depressed I am not). So this leads me to wonder - WTH??
Did he read something in those 12 pages that I had to fill out that lead him to believe that depression is my problem?? And what was my blood pressure on Wednesday that made him think I needed drugs for that??
I mean yeah, I worry about everything, but my blood pressure is half of what Bean's is. And sure I blame myself for everything that goes wrong, but normally that's because it is my fault..

I'm going to choose to believe that he knows something about these drugs that I don't and let it go. For now.

What I've Been Doing and Dodger Poo

While I have not been blogging I have been drugged. Or not. But when I was not drugged I really wished I was.


That migraine that started last Sunday, as in March 21st, is still going on and none of the drugs in my considerable arsenal have stopped it for more than four hours. Some of them put me to sleep though, so that's really nice.


Bean refuses to let me slam my head in a door, he says that I might hurt the door. I think he's being horribly unfair. Surely we have some door in the house that we don't need??


If you'd like to volunteer to cut my head off please leave a comment with your availability.


On a more bizarre note, my sense of smell has gotten amazingly acute in the last week. No idea whether that has anything to do with the migraine or not, but I keep smelling Dodger poo where there is none. Go figure.

OOOOHHHH The Pain!!!!

Normally my migraines are pretty well controlled. And by that I mean that I only have a slam-my-head-in-the-door-to-stop-this, do-you-really-want-to-ask-me-that-question, leave-me-alone-before-I-kill-you-or-vomit-or-both kind of migraine about twice a month. I have headaches just about every day, but those are fine, completely ignorable and I only have to actually take something three times a week on a bad week.

So maybe to you that doesn’t sound very controlled, but since it’s down from please-chop-my-head-off-because-it-would-be-better-than-dealing-with-one-more-minute-of-this-pain every afternoon, I’m good.

My biggest issue is that they don’t just last for an hour (or four). They last for days. I had one that lasted for three weeks.

This one is pretty massive and we’re on day three. It’s driving me batty because it’s a visual nightmare.

And of course, Jenn can’t have normal auras. I have to have nutty visual crap. I have to have acid trips without the acid. I feel all tiny and crazy.. It’s not really explainable.

Bean was at work when it started on Sunday, I was not pleased that he wasn’t home to be sympathetic. He wasn’t pleased that he wasn’t home because he was at work (plus he does miss me when he’s gone, I mean I am REALLY adorable):

Me: I’m having an acid trippy night and you’re not here.

Bean: Sorry.

Me: I’m all small.

Bean: I could put you in the pocket of my ugly sweater and carry you around.

Me: You could.

Bean: You could ride Dodger* like Falcor!**

Me: I could.

Bean: Or you could go to sleep and I’ll see you in the morning. ***

*Dodger is our dachshund, who weighs all of 5 lbs.
**Falcor is the luck dragon from “The Neverending Story” who looks kindof like a longhaired dachshund, at least to us.
***There was some really gushy stuff in that last line, but you don’t get to see that part, it’s all mine, just like Bean.


Update: I just thought I would tell you that I have a new fun symptom that I have never experienced. Ever.
There’s a cat in my office. Only there’s not. And I didn’t even take any drugs today.