Chronic Ama

As a woman, I am well aware that health is often measured by that nasty little digital number on the top of my scale. It is insanely hard to change that idea since we are inundated with that measurement at every turn. I remember my primary care doctor having me sign a document that had my height, weight, and BMI on it along with information about how I was overweight and at risk for diabetes, even though my bloodwork had always showed my blood sugar as being on the low side of the normal range. I remember when I was dealing with all the issues and symptoms that go along with having Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome and having my OBGYN at the time tell me that I needed to not worry about how I'd get diabetes, I needed to worry about when because for one, it ran in my family, and for two, I had insulin resistance which usually goes hand and hand with PCOS. I remember the first time I stepped into my GI doctor's office. The older gentleman had more than a few extra pounds around his mid

I woke up at 5am with the worst anxiety. I think last night's tired and cranky children episode did me in. My daughter argued about wearing basketball shorts for gym. She packed yoga pants in 110 degree heat. And it's my fault. My son needed a hair trim, which I have almost successfully completed previously. This evening, he wasn't having it. He currently has a partial new hair style that we will be fixing after school. Wiggly boys and clippers don't mix. I'm never touching his hair again. Today I'm aiming for a better day and keeping my stress in check. I have plenty of super strong home made cold brew coffee to get me through. Back on the treadmill this evening!!! I'm so excited! It's been since Saturday and I missed this time to clear my head and get a workout in. I never would have thought that I would ever enjoy working out. But, it really does go to show that when you change your outlook, things become more enjoyable. Dinner is sausag

I'm starting to hate a job I have mostly loved. The stress feels different this season. Poor communication and exclusivity make for poor morale. Which means I'm on the treadmill again. But it's great because it gives me time to clear my head and write, even if it's a little bit of meaningless crap. Last night I splurged on some stroopwaffle cookies. I'm not beating myself up over it, though. It's pizza night for Loki and I, but I plan on making a salad with pizza toppings on top. I apparently eat a lot of salads. They're so universal, though. They're filling and so so easily low carb.  I'm also strangely optimistic about my health these last few days. I've been feeling great, with pretty much no pain. I have been using a neoprene belt when I'm on the treadmill. I read an article about how they hold in heat which helps with the back pain and belly pain I get. It's too hot to use a heating pad, so using my own body heat while I

I think in found a sort of niche blogging from treadmill. Work today was a beast, so I'm trying to destress before I work a little more this evening. It's that time of the year for me. I was on track eating well yesterday with intermittent fasting. My splurge was chunky peanut butter out of the jar. I had left over chicken tenders for lunch and I'm totally undecided about dinner except for a rogue beer I found in back of the fridge. I'm sure that will pair well with the buffalo marinated chicken I'll probably toss on the grill in a bit.  I'm hoping tomorrow I can make time to call for my medical records and to make a follow-up appointment with my pelvic pain specialist in Phoenix. I hate all these damn appointments. I also spaced my B12 shot for July, so I'll have to get that done too. Ah well, my stress I'm now in check. Time to start the grill, pour my bet and get some more work done.  Side note... one of the best compliments I

Well, I have lost 3 pounds in the last two months. So, I guess maybe it does burn a few. Ah, well, I've had an eventful day and week. It started with my doctor appointment on Tuesday. I was going to get this damn Implanon thing taken out and instead, we decided to do it when I go in for surgery again. Great! I'm having my tubes tied and possibly, my left ovary removed if it is really as fucked up as we think it is. No problem there. I was hoping to have it done in the next two weeks as the doctor implied, but when they called, they gave me the date of September 5th. Oh hell no. Not that week. I told the lady I wanted it done next week or ASAP. She hasn't called back. So, well.... waiting anxiously for all that crap to happen. I've had this kind of surgery twice already, but I'm nervous as fuck about it. Maybe it's also that having my tubes tied is pretty permanent. I really know I don't want any more kids, but a little part of me is sad that I won't

No two pregnancies are alike... especially between your first and second. I've heard that over and over and over again, but I seem to refuse to acknowledge it. I made it through my first 12 weeks unscathed, being high risk for miscarriage. In between, I had horrible cramps, which no one told me were completely normal with a second child. Thanks for that memo! As if being pregnant wasn't hard enough as it is... I was released to my regular OBGYN in March, who took over keeping a close eye on me. In April, she decided I could only work 7 hour day shifts at work, which was fine with me. I can't lift or bend or run marathons. Again, fine with me. May 5th we found out we're having a baby boy. Mark Logan Avery is due September 23rd. But, May 9th, we found out, he'd be coming between September 12th and 16th. Wooo! Time to start planning. A scheduled C section is fine with me, but I had 18 weeks to get things out of the way, which is where my trouble began. We planned a yar