Somehow while doing the most basic task of picking up Chris's prescriptions from the Super Walmart, I developed a case of the diet Fuckits.
5 years of calorie restriction. 5 years of diet drinks, Splenda in my iced tea, limiting our carb intake, and avoiding the junk food aisles because if it's not in the house, we won't eat it. 5 years of cooking from scratch, limiting our fat intake, and only occasionally having dessert.
5 years of going to doctors, and being looked at as if I was the enabler. 5 years of the "self control and calorie restriction" speech from doctors. 5 years of disapproval and unwillingness to listen.
Now we know why. Now we know why his blood pressure and blood sugar are normal. Now we know why his heart is healthy. Now we know why he gained over 200 lbs over 5 years. Thyroid cancer can do that. The edema caused by the cancer can do that. We shouldn't have been asking why he was gaining weight, we should have been asking whether it was fat or water he was gaining.
Now we know a huge amount of it is water, and now we know why.
Chris developed his case of diet Fuckits Wednesday night following the scheduling of the biopsy. He requested steak, potatoes, crusty bread, and apple pie.
My Fuckits arrived today, in the middle of Wal-Mart, when I wanted a bag of Cheetos. Maybe some Doritos. Oh, and what's in the freezer section these days...
Chris will most likely be having surgery within the next 4 weeks, and then all of these problems might go away. In that time I may gain another 10 lbs just in emotional eating. I don't think I care right now. I think, for a short time at least, the junk food aisle can be my friend again.
Also, it's time for new toys for the doggies, and I think the reactions Jayne and Zoe have to new toys are worth about $1K of therapy...
Mel
