Today I went in for an “emergency” doctors appointment. You know, that kind where it’s “probably nothing but just in case”. I walked in expecting a “nothing to worry about” skin thing, instructions on how to clear it up and be on my merry way. I walked out with an appointment for a biopsy and the words “ruling out cancer” in the back of my mind. I have an actual physical scheduled for next week but when I shot my doc an email with some odd symptoms I’ve been having I assumed she would reassure me and say we would talk about it at my appointment. What I got instead was “it’s most likely nothing but I’d rather see you sooner then later”. So I made an appointment and now I am sufficiently terrified. Of course I had already googled and webmd’d my symptoms and knew that the big “C” was a far off possibility. However, I tend to be just a little bit of an alarmist and my doctor knows this and embraces it. Today I played it cool and said nothing about my fears, just that it was annoying and probably eczema right? I trust my doctor implicitly. She accepts and welcomes my resistance to prescription meds, my preference for holistic options when acceptable and puts my mind at ease without making me feel crazy when I have over thought something. She understands my body image issues and while I haven’t explicitly come out as transgender to her, I feel she gets it and she has always treated me with the utmost respect. Today she said the words “I don’t want to freak you out but”. There were references to my age being in my favor and the likelihood that it was anything was extremely low. She made a decision to go straight for a biopsy rather than a mammogram. And then she said three words that caused me to physically catch my breath. Inflammatory Breast Cancer. No maam! That is not an option in my life and let me list the reasons why.
1. I have a family. I don’t have time to be sick. Let me expound on that. I have spent enough of my childrens’ lives and my marriage ill. Between my mental illness and a myriad of physical stuff over the years, I am finally in a place where I can enjoy my life and now you want to throw this at me? I understand that it’s only a possibility at this point and not a diagnosis but no thank you.
2. I start classes in 3 weeks. I have spent 37 years trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up and I finally figured it out. I don’t have time for extra stress ya see?
3. I’m not really supposed to have these things anyways. As a transgender man, every time I am forced to acknowledge the rather large tubes of obnoxious skin and tissue hanging off of my chest it reminds me of what I used to be and brings up old feelings and issues. The fact that they could be causing my current symptoms and may cause me to ultimately fight for my life feels like the ultimate betrayal. (I know, I know, dramatic much?)
4. Did I mention that I do NOT have time to be sick. No more explanation needed.
So you would think by now that someone has told me I am dying and my logical brain knows that is not true. The next two weeks are going to be a roller coaster of emotions and I feel that by putting things down and expelling them from this diseased mind of mine, along with what coincidentally is my 30 days of meditation, I can keep the hysteria to a minimum. So I thank you for listening to my ramble and now here are the facts. My left appendage (we don’t use the b word) has been itching pretty intensively for several months. There is redness and puffiness that comes and goes and tenderness to touch that doesn’t go away. The nipple area has been dry and cracking even with continued use of vitamin E and lotion. A couple of weeks ago I noticed a dry patch near the nipple that feels like leather a little larger than the size of a pencil eraser. Some noticeable weight loss, extreme fatigue (out of the normal. I’m usually tired but this is excessive even for me), recurring illnesses, (colds, gastro infections, sinus infection etc. also out of the norm). The wife noticed the itching one night and we agreed I would email the doctor who promptly told me to come in asap. Which leads us to today. I was advised that while she would be surprised if it was anything serious because of my age, she wanted to have further testing done to rule out Inflammatory Breast Cancer. I will be having a biopsy done on April 9th and then of course 2-5 days for the pathology report to come back. And there you have it. I will check back in as I feel like I need to and keep everyone posted. I treated myself to a chocolate covered strawberry frappe from McDonalds which is one of the few things I can stand from that place. Now, here is a picture of my sad face today.
There is nothing incredible or shrinking about me these days. I have been so ridiculously on the bottom level of my mental ilness these last few weeks it is ridiculous. I want to do nothing but eat and sleep. Unfortunately sleep is not my friend and food is. I have decided to seek help for my food addiction. It seems like I keep continuing to replace these damn addictions and when I think I have a hold on things, another area spirals out of control. Quit dope, ok let’s drink, smoke and eat. Cut back the drinking, smoking and food it is. Quit smoking, eating takes over. Quit eating…..oh wait….that’s right. I need food to survive. Fuck. So, eat right, exercise, everything in moderation, lots of water, yada yada. I know this shit. It’s second nature to me. I know that eating strawberries and cucumbers (which I happen to love) are better for me than donuts, wings and burgers. I know that the one liter of Mt. Dew sitting on my desk is going to eat my insides. I’ve read the books on sugar addiction, carb addiction and everything in between. I know what I need to do and I’ve done it many many times before. So what the hell am I trying to stuff so far down in me that no amount of food is taking care of it. I am 230ish lbs. I am tired. I hurt. I know what to do fix it. So why the hell can’t I? Don’t tell me I just need to have will power and stick to it. There has to be something deeper going on I just can’t figure out what it is….So back to therapy I go. I’ve found an online self help program to help me walk through what might be going on and lets see if we can get this life back under control. Yup….must happen or I’m going to have a damn heart attack…aint nobody got time for that!!
Today is the day. I have lost about 12 lbs since before surgery just by eating differently, but today…..Ahh today….. Today I shall strap on the black and green shoes of magic and see what kind of damage I can do. There will be ab work and there will be cardio…..and just a weeeeeee bit of strength training. There will be weeping and gnashing of the teeth…..there will be calories burned and weight lost. I cannot wait until spring to start running again. I don’t know about y’all but I have very little motivation to go out in sub zero weather and run. Maybe someday that will change but today is not that day. I am revamping last years goals and will be signing up for a 5k in the fall. Yeah, I said it….now you’re going to watch me do it! I’m excited to feel good again. My first big goal is to be under 200lbs before I run for Mr. Flixx. Reasonable, doable and probably shatterable. That is a word…..I said so. That’s 12 weeks to lose 21+lbs…..I think I’m good 🙂 These three words when you’re getting busy, WHOOMP THERE IT IS!!!
Ps…..I’m including a before and after face pic from last year (30lbs difference) as a little personal motivation. I CAN do this….I HAVE done this…..I WILL do this!! Namaste bitches!!
Dear China Buffet-
As I sat in the booth last night stuffing my pie hole with sweet and sour chicken, tempura shrimp and everything else that had been dipped and fried, I came to an epiphany. While I love you, there is something about you that is toxic…. Addicting. I thought I gave up my cheating ways long ago but I realized that I’ve been cheating for years. Cheating on my health. Cheating on my happiness. It has to stop. You are an evil lover, sucking me in with your aromas and flavors and I walk away from you each time feeling disgusted with myself. No more. I’m leaving you. I could use the “it’s not you, it’s me” line but if I am to be truly honest here, it is me. I am the one who chooses to walk through those doors. I am the one who fills my plate with your calorie laden, heart clogging goodness. Could I go to the grill and make healthy choices? I could, but your marketing people conspicuously put that along with the salad bar all the way in the back of the room. Smart people.
I am walking away from you with my head held high. I am rededicating myself to the things I need to do to be healthy, happy and able to stick around for my family. Do not call me or try to contact me. My resolve is still weak. I still love you, but I love the other things in my life so much more and it just isn’t going to work with you in the picture. Judging by how busy you were last night, I’m sure you will have no short of lovers in my absence.
Please dont cry…..
I have this love/hate relationship with food. I love all the things that are bad for me. Trust that I love fruits and veggies too but give me a nice big bowl of cheese puffs, a piece of pizza and a ginger ale and I’m good to go. That is until about a half hour later when I have a belly ache, I’m all sluggish and pissed at myself for once again being a pig. This, my friends, was my weekend. I don’t know why I do these things to myself. I don’t if I’m just depressed recouping from this surgery or if it’s just strictly my love for everything naughty. Truth be told……if I could just sleep and not worry about food and eating, my life would be so much easier. Today I begin the regimen….one more time out of a million passed attempt. I can only hope that like my attempts to quit smoking, this will be the final one. Wish me luck?
So let me tell you a story. Many moons ago when I was a good, proper little christian girl (Hey….gotta give me props for at least trying eh?), my weight fluctuated anywhere from 125-155ish depending on the amount of drugs and drinking I was doing any given week. What? I said I tried! Funny thing is, I thought I was a bona fide jersey cow. I look at pics and although it’s odd to see myself as a ladygirl, and not a very attractive one I might add, I was by no means a fat kid. Everyone always talks about getting their “high school” body back. Fitting into pre-baby jeans, prom dresses, yada freaking blah. I have no desire. I looked like a weird boy child with boobs and bangs, broad shoulders and no hips. It was really rather odd. “Stand up straight” my mother would tell me. Do you know how hard it is to stand up straight with two boulders hanging off the front of you? I won’t get into all my gender image issues here. That’s for another blog. No seriously, go check out http://dadwithboobs.wordpress.com/. It’s compelling and some day I’ll actually write something worth reading.
Today was weigh in day just as every Friday is in the little Facebook group I’m a part of. It started out as a little competition amongst pals to see who could lose the most in a month and quickly turned into a support group that is one of several that keeps me going. So as I sit here eating my 5am snack of strawberry rhubarb pie (don’t judge me), I am happy to report I am down to 222.4 lbs from a high of 233ish. I did a little jump for joy went my white pasty naked rear end hopped on the scale and saw that despite some questionable food choices this week (pie anyone?) I am still losing! Take THAT you rejected gall bladder….didn’t need you anyways obviously. So there you go. I used to be a skinny girl child. And now I’m a fat kid. Some day I’m going to be fit and slender (I hate the word skinny….it sounds fragile and I am not!). Me and my broad shoulders will see you on the flipside! Now about that pie…….
So I have been completely obnoxious about it and I’m pretty sure you only missed it if you live under a rock, but I had my gall bladder removed last week. It’s pretty cool if you think about it. I had a body organ completely removed from my body and lived to tell about it. Oh hey…have I mentioned I like to exaggerate? Get used to it. Anyways, there was a lot of pain and Percocet involved in the first few days and today (day 6?) I feel human! I want to accomplish things and although I’m still in some managable pain and tire pretty easy I’m doing pretty good.
As much I would like to think that I’m this crazy one of a kind, everything has gone according to “plan” and I’m healing up right on schedule. However, there are these “things” happening in my muscles. I’m going to call them spasms. They hurt and they’re annoying and it is majorly affecting my sleepage. You know how when you get super cold and your insides are shivering? Like your muscles are contracting non stop trying to get you warmed up again? Well, imagine that with 3 incisions on your gut. It doesn’t feel good but I’m wondering if all that muscle contracting could be doing something for my lazy, flabby core. One can hope right?
Here’s the deal. I quit smoking 100%, Had an organ removed to take care of the belly issue….my knee is healed, my hip…..well my hip is all sorts of special but I’m working on getting monthly massages to help with that issue. Do you know what all of these things mean? No more friggin excuses for being a fat ass! Last year I lost 30 lbs….and gained it back. Lame. This year, I’m gonna lose 90. Yeah. 90. You heard me. 90. And I’m gonna keep it off. Lofty goal? Sure. Have you met me? I’m a little stubborn. So get next to me or get out of the way cuz this old boi is about to take care of business.
Wait….what was that? You’ve heard this all before? Ok….I’ll give you that…but won’t it be fun when I kick ass and get to say I told you so and rub it in your face?? Well it will for me. Just sayin….