I went to the SPECIALIST today. I don’t always agree to be weighed when I go to the doctor. I rather like telling them NO. Rather empowering. I feel like I am in charge of my body.
But today, due to the problems I’d been having, I knew it was important for me to step on that dreaded metallic contraption.
Here’s my routine: Tell the nurse to NOT tell me what the number is. The nurse, (today who looked militant, yet cool,) gives me a WTF look. I give her the same look back. I step on the scale, backwards, and with my eyes closed.
We go into the examination room. She asks me the questions. And. Then.
I see a paper she is holding.
With. A. Number. On. It.
To make matters worse, it’s the same number I saw 23 days ago! To say I was pissed off, would not even begin to describe it. Maybe rage?
(Then again… what would I be doing different if I knew I wasn’t going to lose weight…. NOTHING… NOT A THING….)
Regardless, I had a wonderful discussion with my specialist. I took a long time to write out my history, symptoms, etc. She read it. Then she asked me to say it all in my own words. Then she asked me if there was anything else I wanted her to know.
I felt…. LISTENED TO. I felt HEARD. I felt IMPORTANT. All those things I had been missing from yesterday’s situation.
Let me tell you, it feels so honoring to be respected in this way.
Went home. Ate guacamole & chips & put a pizza in the oven. Had a repeat of yesterday. There is just something about knowing that I am full and having a pizza in the oven, and not being sure what to do about that. I could throw the pizza away. I could put it in the fridge. But no. I have a need to get rid of it through eating it.
So, I am very sad to announce that I will be breaking up with this pizza. Well, we are on a leave of absence. We can see other people, and then we will re-evaluate at a later date. We will have DTR talk. Remember DTR’s from college? “Determine the Relationship?” For some reason, girls liked to have them more than guys.
I fully believe in legalizing food. Especially food you love. But I have stocked this pizza into my fridge. I’m talking 8 or 9 at a time. And after eating them, I have restocked my fridge over and over again. But, it’s time for a break. I will get my pizza fix in other ways. And I believe that if this relationship is meant to be, we will someday be together again.