Seriously?
I find myself asking that question more often every day. Life's a blur because it's whizzing by filled with way too many activities. As a mom, I do for everyone else - and I mean everyone. It's time for me to take care of me and put me first. I've thought about this a lot and am unsure how to make this work, but I'm going to give it a try.
My first attempt was yesterday morning. I had my first physical exam in - hold the phone - TWENTY THREE years. Yep. 23 years ago, when I was heading to college, was my last physical exam. And I only went then because it was required. Oh, don't get my wrong. I've been to doctors. I've seen them for lyme's disease, fevers, when I had my three kids, when I got hit by a truck. You know, the usual stuff. And I take my kids for physicals religiously. I thought about why I didn't ever take me and realized I didn't want to go for the very reason I needed to go. The scale.
I've struggled with my weight as an adult my entire adult life. I've tried lots of fad diets, and have been successful, but never keep it off, so I guess I wasn't really successful. I've yo-yo'd for years. Four years ago, I was diagnosed with a "new" batch of Lyme's Disease, which caused a whole host of issues. I don't think there's time for me to list all the issues, but there were many. One symptom was arthritis, and my infectious disease doctor said exercise may help. So my husband "encouraged" me to start working out. By encouraged, I mean he called the YMCA and signed me up for my first exercise class. The name of the class, you ask? Boot Camp! All of a sudden the doctor's scale was looking more appealing because Boot Camp sounded awful and I didn't even know anything about it, yet. I went to the first class, and cried for an hour after. I thought I would die. Seriously, it was so hard. I mean giving birth was easier than finishing that class. But I kept going back. Fast forward to today - I'm still going. Faithfully. And I feel terrific after the class. It's still incredibly difficult, and every single class is unique so I'm getting a great workout. I've even expanded my horizons and go to other classes, sometimes five times in a week. But the weight is not coming off, so I started a food log and began watching my food intake. According to my math (which is pretty good since I was a math major in college), I should be losing about 2 pounds a week. Not an ounce has come off. So I added to my log how I'm feeling throughout the day, and it occurred to me that I have many things "not quite right". And that's how I landed in the doctor's office seeking medical advice because clearly my body is not functioning the way it is supposed to.
As I wait for the results of my blood work, I am satisfied that I finally did it. Because my life is so crazy (more about that later), I had not even noticed or taken time to pay attention to what was ailing me. They say in the airplane while you're waiting for takeoff to secure your own mask before helping others in the event of an emergency. That should be a mom's slogan because I have lots of mom friends who do the same thing I do - put masks on others before taking care of themselves. It's like mounting debt - people in financial crisis sometimes just ignore their debt rather than face it because it's too overwhelming. In a way, this is my debt, but I've owed myself for quite a long time and I'm ready to pay.
My first attempt was yesterday morning. I had my first physical exam in - hold the phone - TWENTY THREE years. Yep. 23 years ago, when I was heading to college, was my last physical exam. And I only went then because it was required. Oh, don't get my wrong. I've been to doctors. I've seen them for lyme's disease, fevers, when I had my three kids, when I got hit by a truck. You know, the usual stuff. And I take my kids for physicals religiously. I thought about why I didn't ever take me and realized I didn't want to go for the very reason I needed to go. The scale.
I've struggled with my weight as an adult my entire adult life. I've tried lots of fad diets, and have been successful, but never keep it off, so I guess I wasn't really successful. I've yo-yo'd for years. Four years ago, I was diagnosed with a "new" batch of Lyme's Disease, which caused a whole host of issues. I don't think there's time for me to list all the issues, but there were many. One symptom was arthritis, and my infectious disease doctor said exercise may help. So my husband "encouraged" me to start working out. By encouraged, I mean he called the YMCA and signed me up for my first exercise class. The name of the class, you ask? Boot Camp! All of a sudden the doctor's scale was looking more appealing because Boot Camp sounded awful and I didn't even know anything about it, yet. I went to the first class, and cried for an hour after. I thought I would die. Seriously, it was so hard. I mean giving birth was easier than finishing that class. But I kept going back. Fast forward to today - I'm still going. Faithfully. And I feel terrific after the class. It's still incredibly difficult, and every single class is unique so I'm getting a great workout. I've even expanded my horizons and go to other classes, sometimes five times in a week. But the weight is not coming off, so I started a food log and began watching my food intake. According to my math (which is pretty good since I was a math major in college), I should be losing about 2 pounds a week. Not an ounce has come off. So I added to my log how I'm feeling throughout the day, and it occurred to me that I have many things "not quite right". And that's how I landed in the doctor's office seeking medical advice because clearly my body is not functioning the way it is supposed to.
As I wait for the results of my blood work, I am satisfied that I finally did it. Because my life is so crazy (more about that later), I had not even noticed or taken time to pay attention to what was ailing me. They say in the airplane while you're waiting for takeoff to secure your own mask before helping others in the event of an emergency. That should be a mom's slogan because I have lots of mom friends who do the same thing I do - put masks on others before taking care of themselves. It's like mounting debt - people in financial crisis sometimes just ignore their debt rather than face it because it's too overwhelming. In a way, this is my debt, but I've owed myself for quite a long time and I'm ready to pay.
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