Weighty Matters

I took Pyxi in for a blood draw today so they could test her thyroid function.   We found out that her thyroid is underperforming and, all things considered, if there had to be a medical reason, this is the best outcome.  The doctor prescribed a supplement and, hopefully, it shouldn’t take long for us to see improvement.   She needs to lose at least five pounds.  We’ll continue with the exercise and not overfeeding her treats.  By the time we’re done, she and her brother and I are all going to be in great shape.

I’m trying not to beat myself up about not checking her blood sooner.  It would be unproductive.  I’ve been beating myself up for slacking off on their exercise for so long that she gained weight in the first place.  Now that I’ve corrected that, I don’t want to keep smacking myself around for anything else.  We’re on the right track after all.

Practically every day my friend and I chat about our upcoming trip to Hawaii.  So far, the things we know we really want to do all involve physical activity.  How cool is that?  We haven’t discovered whether our cruise ship offers Zumba, but I’m going to look when I board.  I’m also going prepared to snorkel a couple of times and we’re determined to zipline.  I love that when our travel agent suggests that we should spend some time just walking down the street along the park and beach in Waikiki I don’t reflexively flinch at the idea of walking.

I’m packing two bathing suits so that I always have one rinsed, dry and ready to go for the pool, the beach or whatever water adventure I want.

I dropped off the three large bag of purged clothes to the Salvation Army’s thrift shop.  When the woman came to the door  I told her I hoped that there were some plus sized women in town who could use some nice clothes.  She assured me that there are, so I’m confident that the garments will find good homes.

It’s weird how my perceptions continue to shift the further along I get with this journey.  Lately I’ve become hyper aware of the huge portions that are considered normal in American restaurants.  On the one hand, it’s great when I go out to eat because I’ll not only enjoy the tasty meal that night, but also the two or three times I heat up the remainder for leftovers.  On the other hand, I look at commercials for fast food restaurants, and my stomach gets queasy over foods I would formerly have chowed down on with gluttonous delight.  I don’t want to mention any by name but right now one is advertising a new cheeseburger on a pretzel bun.

I’m trying to cultivate that queasy response about fast food.  Honestly, fast food restaurants were always a big trigger for me.  Whenever I successfully dieted, I stayed away from them.  The day that I said, “I’m in a hurry.  Just this once,” usually sounded the death knell for that particular diet effort.  Decades ago, I’d go through a drive-thru and order two sodas so that the counterpeople would think I was ordering for more than one person.  Now, gratefully, I have no appetite for the value meals that I used to crave.  Sunday I was on a road trip with friends.  I’d packed snacks but we’d planned to have lunch together and our schedule ran late.  A fast food restaurant was our best choice.  It would have been easy to go with a small burger and fries.  Instead, I’m happy to say that I limited myself to a small chili with a side of apple slices.  Much better choices!

Did you know that there are trapeze schools?  A friend of mine takes trapeze classes in Boston.  I’ve seen pictures.  She looks great.  It’s a very safe activity, with the harnesses and safety lines.  It’s also good for working your core and for developing your arms and upper body strength.  Rather, if you want to progress through the trapeze class curriculum (Yes, the classes have curriculums.  Curriculi?  Whatever.)  you need to develop your arms and upper body strength.  My friend is working on her pull ups to boost her progress.

I saw her pictures and immediately thought, “What a cool thing to do.”  Now I’m on to, “What a cool thing to try!”  Yes, friends, I have now added trapeze to my promise list.  My friend told me that the company that runs her school, as well as other locations in several major cities, is planning to open a place in the next couple of years down here in the Keys.  Everyone sing with me now, “She flies through the air with the greatest of ease, the daring young woman on the flying trapeze.”

Is there anything you have on your promise list that you want to try someday?  Check in with us.

Yesterday I watched wounded combat veterans play and swim with dolphins.  They came to the Keys for the Wounded Warrior Project Soldier Ride, an adaptive cycling event that goes from Key Biscayne in Miami to Key West.  These men and women, while in service to our nation, incurred horrific injuries.  Some are obvious as they arrive in wheel chairs or with prosthetics taking the place of amputated limbs.  Traumatic brain injuries aren’t so visible.  Neither is Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Whatever the injury, their challenges are far greater than most of us will ever experience.   It is amazing to watch these heroes forget about their injuries for a while, get  into the moment, and simply smile and laugh as they interact with the dolphins.

By comparison, my challenges seem small indeed.  In fact, there is no comparison.   Yes, I have an eating disorder but, in reality, the years I spent in relapse with the full blown eating associated with the disease, were a choice.

I’ve abused my body by making it carry so much excess weight.   Yet, right now the only daily result of that abuse is a knee that aches and is weaker than the other.   I’m so incredibly lucky.

I need to remember these men and women every day for so many reasons.  I want to think of them, and the warriors who are still in active duty deployed around the world.  I want to think of them and remember that they need my support with energy, with sharing what I’ve seen, with money when I can donate.  I pray that those who are hurt will recover and those who are serving will come home alive and unharmed.

I will take inspiration from those who face their physical challenges and live their lives in spite of having lost an arm, a leg, both legs, or even worse.  I will be grateful for every step I can take, each mile I walk or every hour that I dance in Zumba.

Thank you to all who serve.

For more information about the Wounded Warrior Project, please visit www.woundedwarriorproject.org.

I have two English Cocker Spaniels.  Nat and Pyxi are brother and sister.  They’ll be six in April and we’ve been a family since they were seven months old.  He’s bigger than she is, which is normal for males.  She was always this more delicate, girly-looking dog.

Many people take better care of their furry companions than they do themselves and I’m no exception.  Over the years, with other pets, I faithfully took them to the vet for their shots, for checkups, for visits if they appeared the least bit off.  I’ll sit home self-treating myself for the flu without calling a doctor, but when/if one of my dogs is sick, I hit speed dial on the phone to reach the vet office.

I work with Nat and Pyxi, do fun training for enrichment, play and cuddle with them every day.  I’m ashamed to admit, however, that in the couple of years before my surgery when my own physical condition was at its worse, I slacked off on their exercise.  I’m doing my best to make up for that and get them into better shape.

The effort has worked for Nat.  He’s doing great.  Unfortunately, Pyxi is porky.  I’ve seen it for months and have been extra careful at monitoring her food.  I measure.  I don’t over do it with treats.  We play and I’m taking both of them out for walks more often.  However, she still needs to lose around eight pounds.  On a dog that should weigh 21 or 22 pounds, eight additional pounds are definitely too many.

I brought it up to the vet earlier in the week when a group of us were out to dinner.  We’re friends and I also work with his wife.  He said that the next time I had the kids in, he would take a good look, listen to her heart, and evaluate.  He thought that we might want to check Pyxi’s thyroid function just to be on the safe side.

Last night, the dear friend who bred my furkids and gave them to me after my beloved Brittany died was in town.  I talked with her about my concerns with Pyxi.  She came over and assessed my little girl with a visual check and a hands’ on exam.  She agreed that Pyxi is overweight, but made a particular observation that most of the pounds are carried in the middle instead of being distributed over her body.  In her expert opinion, she concurred that we should do blood work and check the thyroid function.

I told her what I feed Pyxi every day and it didn’t seem like too much food to her.

Then she said something that alarmed me, even though she was quick to say that she didn’t mean it to scare me, she just wanted to be even more on the safe side.  She suggested that I talk to the vet about the possibility of pre-Cushing’s Syndrome if the thyroid test didn’t show a problem.

As soon as she left, I naturally did an internet search because I had no idea or knowledge of Cushing’s.  It’s pretty confusing but the gist is that too much cortisol is produced and that causes problems.

Raise your hand if you’ve ever seen an ad for a diet product that talks about cortisol and belly fat.  I can’t actually see them, but I bet a lot of hands just went up.

Pyxi has some of the symptoms but I’m worried so I might have been picking out the things that seem like a fit for her and looking at the worst case scenario.  These same symptoms could also be from thyroid imbalance or the plain fact that she wasn’t getting enough exercise and it will take some time to work the extra weight off of her.

I woke up this morning determined to not borrow trouble but to approach this calmly.  I called the vet’s office first thing this morning and left a message, asking the vet to call me when he had a minute.  When he did a few hours later, we talked it all over and devised a plan.  I’m taking Pyxi in Monday morning for a blood draw so we can test her thyroid.  If the blood work reveals an issue, then we can treat her condition.

If the blood test is negative, we’ll do the first test for Cushing’s.  This means that I will soon face a new experience — collecting a urine sample from my dog.  I’m sure that Pyxi will be as thrilled as I am about this process, which is to say less than enthusiastic. 🙂  Doesn’t matter.  Whatever my little girl needs, I will do.

When all is said and done, I don’t want her to have either condition.  I’d rather do the tests, have them all come back negative and have the vet tell me that we need to cut her calories more and up her exercise.  I’d rather find out that I have been in denial thinking that I was doing better with her food and activity level and need to give myself a wake-up call.

Maybe we can make it all better with a lower calorie food and more activity.

Doesn’t that sound like every sensible “diet” plan we’ve ever heard?  Consume fewer calories, burn more with exercise.

When I started this blog, I never dreamed that I might one day have to discuss weighty matters that concern my dog.   I feel like a Mom with an obese child who only wants to know what she can do and how she can help her poor baby.

I’ll keep you posted.

I was talking with a friend on the phone today.  She’s in the middle of a divorce.  Another friend of ours was just asked for a divorce.  These are painful, difficult times for them.  All I can do is send up love, virtual hugs, and as much encouragement and positive energy as I can.

In the phone conversation my friend told me that her husband is acting harsh, saying mean and hurtful things.  I said to her, “After so many years of marriage, he knows where to aim.  He knows what to say to emotionally hurt you the most..”

Shortly after the phone call, I logged onto Facebook.  There’s an article making the rounds that gives women solid practical how to act and react if someone comes after you.  The gist of the advice was how not to look vulnerable.

Consequently, vulnerability is much on my mind today.  I’ve lived on my own for so long and I’m pretty practiced at how to protect myself, be aware of my surroundings, look like I’d be more trouble to attack than a potential mugger or rapist would want to deal with.  That’s pretty much all external.  Inside, I’m as vulnerable to being hurt as I ever was.  I’m a curious mix of toughness and sensitivity.  I can shrug off a lot of bull crap from people who don’t mean anything to me, but put me in conflict with a someone I care about and it will hit me hard.

When I’ve been in a relationship for a while, I do my best to be open-hearted, although I know that I guard myself to some extent.  Yet, even with that guardedness, when the relationships have ended, my heart has ached and I’ve cried over the loss.

Maybe it was being around so many good looking men in uniform this weekend, or just a logical progression as my body, weight, and emotional self-esteem about my own attractiveness and body improve, but I’ve been thinking a bit more about the possibility of dipping a toe back into the dating pool.   I’m not ready to walk to the end of the plank diving board, leap off in a beautiful swan dive and plunge in, but I’m considering.

I’m a bit apprehensive.  Part of me thinks, “You’re 55.  Why bother now?”  (Yep, I turn 55 tomorrow.)  Another part of me thinks, “You’re 55.  Why not now?”  Still another part of me thinks, “Is it time for a snack?”

It’s hard to willingly open up the vulnerable parts of ourselves, take a chance and risk getting hurt again.  Then again, faint heart never won anybody anything or anyone.

I don’t have to decide today.  I don’t need to rush to join an online dating service or start going out more often to see what options might be swimming in local waters.  I guess all I need to do, just for today, is be open to thinking about it.