Down the rabbit hole...

I am so close I can taste One-derland.  I have 1.9 lbs to go before I see a 1 to start my weight.  It has been a while indeed.  I am getting super excited about it.  My jeans are fitting a little better, my bras are getting a little looser and I am feeling better over all.

I have been on the meds for over a week now.  I am feeling better as a whole, although for a while there, I was super emotional and crying at everything.  I have a lot more energy (I hear wellbutrin does that to you) and I feel like doing more things.  Last week, Mandy and I went down to Galveston to Palm Beach (an inland man-made "beach" at Moody Gardens.  I was in a bathing suit in public and looked fab, I must say.  They have a great wave pool there, and I think at some point I pulled a muscle in the back of my leg.  I am having the hardest time walking without pain. 

The one thing I have noticed with the meds is my tendency to rage/panic a little as they are wearing off.  As long as I stay on top of taking them, I am fine, but on occasion I do have to take an ativan to help out. 

Bring on a new week, and hopefully, a whole new number.  There is no going back now.  I REFUSE to give up, and I REFUSE to give in. 

Doctor Visit

So I finally broke down (literally) and went to the doctor.  My blood pressure has been steadily creeping back up, my heart rate stays up (between 90-120bpm) and I have just not been myself as of late.
I have been having all kinds of anxiety, depression, and have been living in a constant state of panic, that I can only describe as "humming bird".
After a long discussion with my doctor (who I LOVE and drive 2 hours to see still) about how I am feeling, what my stressors are, and what I would like to do about it, I walked out with a ton of percriptions for meds.  Metaprolol (a beta-blocker) for my blood pressure and heart rate, Wellbutrin SR (for the anxiety and depression), Ativan as needed (for panic attacks). 

I now feel like an old lady with my giant bag full of meds. 

But here is hoping I am back on the track to being whole and being me again.

Three and a half pounds

In three and a half pounds, I will be below 200 lbs.  Who knew it was as simple as cutting out a few excess carbs? 

I am not counting calories- I guess that is coming along with it.  I am simply limiting my carb intake to 60g per meal, or 30g per snack, sometimes less, sometimes a hair more, depending. 

I am not stressing anything else, and because I was ill last week, I have no added any extra exercise.  But I am 12 lbs down, and am so excited.  In the next week or two, I will no longer start my weight with a 2. 

I swear, as soon as I weigh in below 200 I am taking a pic and posting it to facebook with the caption, "whattup bitches?!"

Here's to next week.

Playing with Needles

So after putting it off for a day, I finally opened the two syringes that were sent home with me to become comfortable with.  the larger one made my eyes roll a little, but over all, it was not bad. I poked at a plum.  But they were in MY hands, not anyone else. :/

Health Scares and Phobias

Sometimes something comes along in your life and gives you a quick kick in the face. 
For a few days, it literally felt like I was kicked in the face.  My back wisdom tooth abscessed again.  I managed to get myself down to the doctor and got antibiotics and for once, pain pills!  They rarely give me any because I am allergic to the "cure all", Vicodin. 
During a fit of pain and anger, I threw out that I had to do SOMETHING to get over my needle phobia and told Mandy that we would take baby steps and she should start checking my blood sugar.  (She's diabetic). 
Needless to say, a few days later when I was no longer in pain, I regretted this immensely, but Mandy is a good woman, and she did NOT let me off the hook.  (I do actually thank her for that.)
We sat down one day, while she was off work, and started working to calm my nerves.  Much to my surprise, it only took me about 30 minutes to let her do it.  It was awful, in my mind of course (not due to pain or anything), BUT I DID IT!!!!
And then it beeped. 

And my blood sugar, more than 2 hours after eating anything, was higher than hers. 
131
WHAT?
For those that know nothing about numbers, for someone who is supposed to have low blood sugar, a reading above 120 more than 2 hours after eating is a sign of pre-diabetes.  Pre-diabetes is a diagnosis they give you to say, "WAKE THE FUCK UP!  YOU'RE KILLING YOURSELF!"

I would like to say that it came as a shock, but it was not.  I honestly thought for a while that I was having blood sugar issues.  Everything from extreme thirst, to missing periods, to feeling like crap ALL THE TIME.

We decided to start checking it on her days off (which reminds me, we skipped yesterday :gulp:) and in the mean time, I decided we were both going to start eating like we should.  The research junkie that I am kicked in and I have spent the last week and a half in carbohydrate and blood sugar land. 
We started on a limited carb diet with the help of a friend of mine who is a dietitian, and so far we are doing pretty well.  The first few days we wanted to kill each other and everyone around us, because we do so love our bread and rice and pasta. 

The better part about this though, is that Mandy's numbers are SO MUCH BETTER than they have been, AND I did a big thing, and checked my sugar twice in one day.  We did a fasting check last Sunday, and it was only 86.  2 hours after eating around 60g of carbs it was only 105. These are GOOD numbers. 
I have calmed down a ton about it, and no longer think I am going to die, but we are still going with the diet.  The impact it has made on her sugar levels and my energy is amazing. 

Now, about that phobia... 
In addition to checking my blood sugar (which, admittedly, has gotten easier, but is still a mental struggle) I am working with a friend of mine who pokes at people for a living.  We are doing what I guess would be considered "graded-exposure therapy".  Right now, I have in my possession a couple of syringes that I am supposed to mess with.  I think I can handle them just fine.  Put them in someone else hands and I know it will not go well. 
I think it will be hardest for me when we get to the point of touching a tourniquet and prep swab.  Just the thought of that freaks me right the fuck out... 

But I swear, I WILL get over this shit.  I have to.  I am tired of hurting.  I am tired of being sick.