I know I promised to keep up with writing but this has been a super hard period in my life. Finally, I have decided that writing might help me heal my soul as I had a dear friend die two weeks ago. Writing his eulogy was very healing so here I am back to writing and I have a lot to catch you up on.
First off, I did see Dr. Will Ferrell and yippee for all no torture was required and the walking boot came off. Pretty sure I reacted like this:
Either that or I realized that damn I didn’t bring a regular shoe with me and had to go home with that damn thing on one more time. Ugh. Stupid fat girl move. Pretty sure I did the happy fat girl dance (minus the naked part) when I realized not only was the boot off, but no shot either. But it is off, I am in physical therapy and am down to a brace for the ankle at this point. The physical therapist is nice and has not required me to do much in the way of torture quite yet, but we shall see. If she brings out the waterboard, I will know I am in trouble. We shall see on Tuesday. Of course, the first thing I asked Dr. Will Ferrell is what my restrictions were. He tells me to not overdo it and to use pain as my guide. HUH? Does he not know me at all? First off, I walked around with a torn meniscus for 6 months because pain is NOT a good indicator to me that there is something wrong. Secondly, I am a nurse. Nurses make the worst patients and we push though pain. I mean come on…we don’t pee for twelve hours even though our bladders are at the breaking point. That is just what we do. Nurses don’t take breaks. So now I am actually having to watch what I do and for how long. I got back into working out the very next week. Did you really think I would wait? Nope…back to working out it was. PT tells me no elliptical so it is the fat jiggler for now. I did try the treadmill and that was too much but of course I still did it. Duh. But I did learn that lesson.
Another lesson I learned is that I eat my feelings. I might have looked like this the week after my friend Stephen died:
Once I got my appetite back that is…for some reason the grief did a weird thing to me. I am a FAT girl right? FAT girls eat their feelings. For some weird bizarre reason, I had to be reminded to eat by BFF as I wasn’t eating at all. Wait…what? When BFF asked me if I had eaten all day and I couldn’t remember, I knew there was a problem. But once I started…watch out! There was no stopping me and my HUGELY bad fat girl choices. Oh well. My weight seems to be a yo-yo lately (of course that extra-large bag of gummi bears in my cupboard might have something to do with that). Let’s see if I can get it back on track.
Grief also did something else to me….it made me hermit. Pretty sure if given the choice, I would turn into one of those hoarders living in my own garbage and filth…ok maybe not that bad. But there might be days where I don’t leave my house at all. I don’t wanna have to be the fat girl on that show about hoarders having to talk about how I strapped myself to my toilet so I wouldn’t die in my own garbage. That would be gross. But I did become very antisocial. Thank goodness for BFF and for her willingness to come drag me out of my house. I don’t wanna be the hermiting crazy cat lady on the block that chases small children with a stick away from her door and all the kids are afraid of until some Disney inspired child comes to my door and realizes I am just a grief-stricken lonely old lady….wait….I think that is a Disney movie. It might involve prisms. I am not sure but I don’t wanna be that person on the block. So here is to getting out of my house….
Oh yeah. I didn’t die today. I did go and work out but then ate my weight in gummi bears. Sigh. I am fat girl recovering from grief trying not to be a hoarder or crazy cat lady starting to work out again. The experiment continues….