You won't believe this

I saw a new doctor yesterday and you won't believe what I found out. It was enough to make my jaw drop when he told me. I wanted to cry.

My first visit, as part of a medically supervised weight loss program (totally healthy, BTW), lasted an hour and a half and consisted of going over every aspect of my health and history with obesity. This included family history, diets I have tried, what I'm currently eating, and medications that I'm taking.

For once, I felt like a doctor was truly listening to me. Not only that, but he understood me. He has been researching obesity for years and has developed a program that is in its early years, but one that has seen a lot of success at not only helping people with chronic obesity related diseases lose weight, but go off of medications and also maintain the weight loss.

That gives you a small picture of the background of this program and I plan on blogging about it as I continue my weight loss journey. The last year or so has left me feeling like there truly was no hope left-- I actually found this program through a series of searches, beginning with bariatric surgery. I have been trying diet after diet and failing absolutely miserably at it. Not only that, my weight has PACKED ON over the last few years-- but at an even more drastic amount in the past year.

So what was so shocking that the doctor told me?

It all begins in early 2013 when I was switched to a blood pressure medication that was deemed safe for pregnancy. I have continued on this medication until just yesterday-- so over four years.

Yesterday, the doctor told me that I immediately needed to stop taking that medication because it has been known to cause depression and even considerable numbers of suicide. Wow. Just. Wow.

So it's possible that the pregnancy filled with anxiety and stress, followed by postpartum depression, severe anxiety, and overall the worst experience of my life-- could have been caused simply by a medication. Not to mention the fact that I've had a history of turning to food to cope.

And for FOUR YEARS, not one physician even brought up the possibility that it could have been caused by a medication. Instead, I was put on an additional three medications for depression and anxiety and also sent to counseling. Overall, I saw a total of seven physicians who all had my medication list. In one day at a new health system, a doctor and a pharmacist were baffled as to why I was on this outdated medication.

Not only that, do you remember this post? The one where I intentionally went to my doctor to ask her WHY I was still having such severe bouts of depression and that it was so out of character for me to feel how I was feeling? The one where she was downright disrespectful of me and basically just told me that I needed to lose weight?

That's right-- not one concern was shown for my intuition that something wasn't right. And I am here two more years later still dealing with those same bouts of depression-- the kind where I will suddenly feel like I don't even want to live any more. Thankfully, I have grown to recognize these patterns but I have spent years doubting myself and showering myself in guilt and shame.

It truly makes me begin to distrust the medical community. That's a broad assumption to distrust the entire medical community and I do know that my new doctor is certainly an exception-- his goal is to get his patients off of medication. Isn't that the way that it should be? Shouldn't we be curing illnesses rather than stacking medicine upon medicine in an attempt to mask the symptoms?

Let's not even mention the fact that one of the medications I'm on for anxiety is also known to cause weight gain. A combination of factors have led to the perfect storm and I'm left tattered.

My hope is now that I'm on a different blood pressure medication, my overall disposition will begin to return to who I was four years ago. At that time, I had been through some life challenges that were stressful and was trying so hard to get back on my feet again in the weight loss game.

I have been combing through my medical records and I figured this out-- from the time I began truly struggling with my weight, as in beginning to gain a little bit from my absolute lowest weight, only six months passed before I started the medication and the rest is history.

There's no use in getting hung up on the woulda, shoulda, couldas-- but it is still mind-blowing to think about it. I'm hopeful that things will slowly begin to change for me in the weight department and I can become the girl I worked so hard to become when I was on top of my game.

I guess the next year or so should tell!

Healthier than Ever

I had a doctor’s appointment on Friday and I have to admit that I was a little worried about the results of my blood tests. We hear all of the warnings about lifestyle and diet and how people like me will develop diabetes, heart problems, etc. I have spent so much time worrying about how unhealthy I must be because I am overweight.

Would you believe that my blood work came back and it’s better than ever? It has never been abnormal—always just fine, but everything has actually improved this year. That’s  just crazy how that works.

My good cholesterol went up, the bad cholesterol went down, my glucose level went down, and my coronary risk ratio went down. Since my sister and mom have been diagnosed with a vitamin D deficiency, I had mine checked and I do have a very slight deficiency so I will add more vitamin D and calcium.

It really makes you wonder how much health comes down to genes and how much is due to behavior. I don’t eat horribly unhealthy—we eat balanced meals, I avoid fried food & fast food, but I tend to overeat (usually for emotional reasons)—hence why I’m overweight. I also eat too much sugar—once again because I use it as an emotional crutch.

It’s a comfort to me that I’m not getting unhealthier as far as the blood work is concerned. I’m so paranoid that I’m going to fall over dead from a heart attack, develop diabetes, etc. I just have to keep working towards good health—I do believe that if I don’t, it’s very likely that I will have problems…just not yet.

It’s nice hearing the doctor tell me that my blood work is “spectacular”. There’s one thing going for me! Most doctor’s would focus on my weight and BMI—but I’m glad she acknowledges the “good” too.

She’s currently researching a therapist that has experience working with disordered eating and I’m hoping to get some help in that respect from someone who has a lot of experience in that department.

I’m feeling desperate with my weight loss journey. I don’t want to give up—but I’m starting to wonder when I need to recognize that what I’m attempting to do isn’t working.

In other news, I got sick Friday night and didn’t feel quite right until Sunday. And then Sunday I got over-stressed taking care of Little Miss Sunshine and had an anxiety attack. Ugh. I was doing so well.

It’s so draining when that happens. I am completely exhausted and then it’s really hard for me to dig myself out of the hole once it gets to that point. I have felt “down” ever since—but I’m trying my best not to let it turn into a depressive episode.

Last night, I found myself thinking about how weary I am of life, how I’m a horrible mother, and all of the thoughts that come along with postpartum depression. I have done so well with keeping my thoughts on a positive track, but I was having a tough time with it last night. I’m glad that in times like that, I can rely on hubby to correct me and tell me that what I’m thinking isn’t true. I just have to talk about what I’m thinking and feeling and that really helps.

Anyways, have a great week!

Sincerely, Your Fat Patient

Dear Physician,

This little hospital gown that I’m made to wear is too small and it leaves my entire backside uncovered. Fat bulges from my sides and stretch marks cover my body like tiny scars.

The exam table creaks as I sit down on the white crinkly paper and I see the disgust on your face and in your cold blue eyes, though you don’t express it aloud.

I tell you my ailments, my feelings, and my concerns—things which I needed to tell you a month ago but you wouldn’t fit me into your schedule for. I wanted my life to be over back then, and yet that wasn’t urgent enough a reason to be seen.

Now I’m here asking for your help and you minimalize my concerns by making uninformed statements which tell me you didn’t even take the time to read my file.

If you had read my file, you would know that the last time I was seen in this office I weighed about 90 lbs. less than I do now.

If you had read my file, you would know that I’m recovering from postpartum depression while taking medication and going to therapy for it—instead you brush off my concerns and tell me I’m not on medication for my depression so I’ll be fine and postpartum depression doesn’t last this long. You seem surprised when I tell you that I am on medication. I want to tell you that this has been a process of recovery over a period of time, but instead I don’t say anything because you’re the doctor and you should know the facts about the illness.

Your first comment to me is to see a nutritionist about my weight.

The months of struggle, pain, tears, psychiatrist visits, therapist visits, and pure war within my mind minimalized to what you can see—my fatness.

And when I tell you my story, how I know what to do because I’ve done it before and the weight came back on as a result of depression, you tell me that it must be hard to eat right when I’m feeling moody.

That stings like an unexpected slap in the face.

Moody. This was far more than being moody.

I tell you how sometimes like the flip of a switch I begin to feel like I don’t want to live anymore—that life is just too hard and this lasts for weeks sometimes. You look at me like I’m crazy and tell me that I do not have a “profound” problem where my hormones are imbalanced—but this is just an issue that’s common in people of my size and BMI.

You don’t seem to hear me over the thunder in my thighs. While a sunshiny smile remains firmly planted on my face and I kindly thank you for your time, the dark cloud has begun to creep slowly over my soul and my eyes begin to feel heavy. When I am in the safety and solitude of my vehicle, the tears fall.

Please don’t disregard me and my feelings because of my weight. Don’t assume that because I am fat that I don’t care or that I don’t try to change.

Please consider that I have a history and that you don’t know my story. Don’t belittle me or treat me like I’m a series of numbers on a chart.

Please take me seriously. See beyond my ample curves and flabby arms and see that I am a person—not just a specimen or textbook fat person. I’m unique, as is every single patient you see—skinny, fat or in between.

I don’t want your sympathy. All I want is for you to understand that today, my weight and the snugness of my clothes, are just a part of where I am in this moment, and my life is made up of millions of moments—not just this one. I understand that my weight is unhealthy and I would give anything to get it under control—I worry about it every single day and I’m trying. Really, I am.

This isn’t the beginning of my story nor is this the end. It’s just a moment in time that is a result and accumulation of all of the prior moments that have affected me physically, mentally, and emotionally. I’m not just my fatness—I’m a struggling soul, someone continuing to fight to become better.

Remember that each patient has a history that you have no clue about. The fat may just be a symptom of a life that has become unbalanced for some reason or another. Beneath the excess fat is a human being with feelings who is fighting battles that you know nothing about.

Please wrap this around your finger and as you open the door to greet your patients, let it be a reminder that each one has a unique story of the road they’ve traveled so far—don’t make assumptions. Be informative, be professional, but most importantly—be kind.

Sincerely,

Your Fat Patient

Friday’s Weigh in and Update

I have been super busy since Thursday and haven’t had a moment to check in to tell you about my weigh in. I don’t have anything exciting to share. After a week of staying on track and doing well I gained .3 lb.

I ate supper at 8:30 p.m. on Thursday night and I’m pretty sure that just threw my weigh in so it’s not a big deal that I had a gain this week—it was simply water retention, etc. and I’m sure of it. We had a last minute at-home date night and it was well worth it! I even stuck to my points—I ended up using 1 Activity Point though.

• Weekly Points Used: 49/49
• Activity Points Used: 1
• Activity Points Earned: 27
• Total steps: 52,044
• Weight Loss this Week: +.3
• Total Weight Loss to Date: –6.6 lbs.

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Hubby took Friday off of work and so I decided to fit in all of my appointments while he would be around. On Thursday afternoon, I met with my counselor and we had a great discussion about dealing with negative people and how to break the cycle in those relationships. I will write a post on this at a later date because it’s really good information and will take a lot of practice on my part.

On Friday morning, hubby and I worked on cleaning the house and getting everything ready for company and baby girl’s first birthday party. The house is looking infinitely better and that makes me feel better too. Now I can work on the smaller cleaning projects and not feel so overwhelmed by it all.

That morning I also had an appointment with my PA. It was a blood pressure, asthma, and general check up and talk about my postpartum depression progress. The good news is that my blood pressure is great and I haven’t been having any asthma trouble—I’m kind of wondering if there was mold in the office that I used to work at because I would have a terrible time whenever I was there.

I mentioned my FitBit sleep patterns because they have been horrible and they weren’t like that a few years ago. Seriously, it will show me restless 37x in the night. She wants me to do a home sleep study to make sure I don’t have sleep apnea because that could cause my lack of energy too. Ugh. Another reason to get this weight off!!! The office is checking into it all and with my insurance.

My parents arrived on Friday afternoon and so my mom accompanied me to my psychiatrist appointment. At my request, she added an anxiety medication and I’m hoping that will help me while I learn the skills to cope. I am a complete and utter disaster when something “stressful” to me is going on and I cannot live like that.

After that, we picked up party supplies and a couple more birthday gifts and then headed home. This was the first time that hubby watched baby girl while I was gone for longer than an hour or so. My parents bought her a wagon as part of her birthday present and she absolutely loves it (and so does Hubby)! Hubby and my dad walked around with her in that to keep her happy.

Since Friday was her birthday, we had cake pops to celebrate. I gave her the cake pop and she knew exactly what to do. She just held onto the stick and took little bites. It was pretty cute.

The rest of the weekend was filled with party prep, the actual party, and lots of resting to recover. I am glad it’s all over and that we survived it all. I am not quite up for having company like that yet and that was very evident to me during all of this. Thank GOODNESS my parents were here and everyone pitched in to help—it was a team effort. I can’t wait to show you all of the photos from the party!

On another note, I ate pretty terribly this weekend! I did a whole lot of stress eating and I just didn’t care. Obviously, I do not know how to deal with stress in a healthy way—but I’ll get there. I counted every single bite and I’m still on track—just about out of weekly points though!

How was your weekend?