I had my second fill yesterday but opted not to take pain meds, as I am on a writing deadline and require my brain.
Short version: I sort of hurt.
It means another round of paid housekeeping and ordering groceries, even though after today my lifting restriction is off (yay!) and as of last week I was told I could exercise again (yay?).
I am now doing quite the opposite of the type of relaxation I was in earlier weeks: instead of treating myself gently, I worry now that I'm getting too "soft." For instance, I got the go-ahead to exercise last week, but didn't feel *quite* up to it. I am trying to figure out if that's excuse- making 13 or the all- encompassing "listening to my body" 13.
Also, I'm losing weight. If you're a new reader (thank you, btw!) you may not know that I'm a pretty avid exerciser but also a pretty avid (healthy, mindful, mostly) eater. I'd say for most of this year the two canceled each other out for me. That's cool and all, except my BMI is still about a dime higher than docs are telling me it should be.
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| {newfound tummy, once hidden my F-cups. Gym, anyone?} |
And I refuse, refuse, refuse to go hungry. Some call hunger during weight loss discipline, but for me it's equaled a brief affair with some genuine disordered eating behaviors. So...I tread lightly.
I'm still quite afraid of revision surgeries, tiring myself out too much to write, or jiggling something out of place. Gah! I want to strap on my running shoes and demand myself to "man up."
We'll see.
xo
