That was my pre-op appointment.
The goal of this, I thought, was to check my vitals and go through paperwork for my mastectomy. Instead, I had two full- fledged exams in which it was discovered that my blood pressure is high. Too high.
Stress? check
Overweight? check
Processed or salty food? (not so much)
Sedentary lifestyle? (Yes, I sit in a library all day. But no, I exercise vigorouslsy 4-5 times per week.)
So I had my second medical shocker for 2011: bitch you have to get on BP meds. Before.Your.Surgery. In less than a month. As if your ass needed another thing to stress about.
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| {jacket- old; top, belt-jcrew; jeans-levis; booties-matisse 'nugent'} |
I felt fat and mad at myself. This was exacerbated by a phone call from my pops, who' shared that he was recently rushed to the emergency room for stroke-like blood pressure.
But-I don't "do" powerless. 15 pounds in a year is great, but a pound a week would be even better.
So I made a decision: no more waiting. It's now. I'm going to have to transition from fitness-only to weight loss.
People. Thank God I never said I have all of the answers, cause if I had I'd be eating crow.
***I remain true to the fact that I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing, that psychologically I could possibly be doing this to exert some control in a life dominated by the out-of-control feeling of trying to Get it Done the same semester as a major surgery. Translation: I could be a damn fool, but hey, at least I'm still learning.***
xoxo,
13
