Getting Cold Feet

Autumn has come quickly to the Atlanta area.  We went from temperatures in the upper 70’s and low 80’s to low 40’s seemingly overnight.  And I’m getting cold feet – literally!  Several weeks ago, I quit wearing sandals and flip-flops, opting for Mary Jane sneakers and ballerina flats instead.  Yesterday, even that wasn’t enough.  My feet ached with the cold – and you could feel it through the sneakers if you put your hand on my foot.  So today, I’m in my winter boots.  My feet are still cold, but not the bone-chilling cold of yesterday.

Fall has always been my favorite season of the year.  I love the beautiful autumnal colors (and wish so badly that I was in New England or the mountains of Virginia right now.)  I love the cooler weather.  I love fall activities – hayrides and dressing up for Halloween and visits to the pumpkin patch.  I love the seasonal treats – apple cider, pumpkin pie, and chili.  And mostly, I love that the arrival of autumn means that the Christmas holidays are not far behind! 

I still love fall!  But I know that I need to get out my heavy sweaters right now – so that I can dress in layers.  I need to be smart about carrying a heavy sweater, jacket, or hoodie with me.  These are not my favorite things in the world to do – but they are part of my life right now.  So, I will continue to do them.

“Getting cold feet” often has another connotation – especially used when someone is backing out of a decision, like marriage.  My cold feet are very literal – and not at all used in this way.  I’m totally committed to this journey – cold feet and all!

I think it is a good thing that we don’t always know the total picture when we decide on a course of action.  If I had known all of Dave’s faults, or how grumpy he gets when he is sick, I might have had second thoughts before agreeing to spend the rest of my life with him.  If he had known about all of the surgeries and major illnesses I would have or that I am such a total slob – I KNOW he would have had second thoughts.  If I had known about being so cold so much of the time, I would have hesitated before my surgery.  I probably would have opted to have the surgery anyway, but I do get tired of being cold.

Totally Speechless

This has been an amazing weekend.  First of all, I got to see a wonderful friend for the first time in several years.  I picked her up at the airport.  She walked right past me.  I called out her name – and she stopped to look for me.  She scanned the crowd once, then again, and finally locked onto me the third time!  She knew my voice – but didn’t recognize me – even though she had seen pictures.  Reality is so much more powerful!  Then she teared up – we hugged.  She cried again, and we hugged.  Then we hugged and she cried again.  Later she told me that the last time she saw me, she was certain she would never see me again.  The heart failure was so severe, my color was gray, and I was so swollen from the excess fluid.  To see me standing there – vibrantly healthy – glowing complexion – well, she teared up every time she thought about it all weekend.  What a testimony to this journey!

Now for the speechless part.  Remember how my poor Lulu was stolen a couple of weeks ago?  A good friend allowed me to borrow his truck for a couple of weeks. That was such a blessing, because I didn’t have to rely on somebody else to take me everywhere.  But last night he called and said that he needed to come get his truck.  I was expecting this, but I have to say, my heart was heavy when I thought about going back to bumming rides from everyone.  I was tired from the weekend – and already in my nightgown – so I asked Dave if he would go out and thank our friend profusely, and explain that I was pretty tired.

After a couple of minutes, Dave came back in the house – and told me I needed to get dressed and come outside but he wouldn’t tell me why.  I throw on a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans over my nightgown, and head out.  The friend (who sings in Dave’s gospel quartet) and another friend (who also sings in the quartet) are standing there.  They said that they had received word from my insurance adjuster about my car.  I replied there wasn’t any insurance on it – other than liability.  They hand me an envelope – and said it wasn’t right that Lulu got stolen, and they had talked to people in the church (where Dave had his ministry) – and people in our new church – and people in my Dad’s church.  They had all gotten together, and purchased a car for me.

In the envelope were two sets of keys – the title – and all of the paperwork to a 1992 Buick Park Avenue, with 139,000 miles on it.  She’s a light tan color, inside and out.  There is one tiny ding in it – but you wouldn’t even see it if you weren’t looking for it.  The interior is spotless and in great condition.  She has a rebuilt engine (one of the cylinders was missing – as in not firing, not as in gone – so they replaced it.) 

I didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry!  (I think I did both!)  I hugged them – and said, “Thank you” – but it sure didn’t seem like enough.  I am completely overwhelmed by this incredibly generous gift!  They said I needed to take it for a spin, so I drove Dave to quartet rehearsal.  And then I went immediately to buy “The Club.”  There is NO WAY I want anything to happen to this car!

These friends said that having THE CLUB installed would probably be enough deterrent to keep anyone from trying to steal this one.  Thieves are looking for something very fast to break into – and dealing with The Club would take too much time. 

I still don’t know what to say.  I’m humbled by such an enormous display of kindness and love.  I’m grateful to know people who care so deeply.  So, to anyone and everyone who had any part at all in this, I can only say, “Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!”  You mean the world to me.

The Club - $35; ¼ tank of gas - $10; having your own set of wheels – and friends who are generous beyond belief – PRICELESS! 

Times of Change

It is time for a change, and for me, this is a big one.  When I first started riding on the vanpool, I quickly started riding shotgun in the passenger seat up front.  I was so big that I didn’t fit into the seats in the back, and I had a difficult time getting in and out of the van in the back.  Unlike the front passenger seat, there is no handle to assist getting in and out – and I could not just step in.  Since no one seemed especially interested in the front seat – I started using it – and have done so for the four years I have been riding.

We recently added a new rider, who struggles with motion sickness.  I’m glad to give up my seat to make her ride a little more comfortable – and ecstatic that the reason I first began sitting up front no longer exists!  I fit easily into the bench seats in the back – and can swing up into the van with ease.  (OK, maybe “with ease” is a slight exaggeration – my knees are old and rickety – but it is no longer related to my weight!) 

What a joy it is to be in a position where I can make a choice for someone else’s benefit – without balancing that against my very real incapacities.  Two years ago, even though I would have WANTED to make this woman’s ride more comfortable – I would not have been able to ride in the back.  I might have tried to that anyway – but it would have meant extra time getting in and out of the van – which ultimately, would have delayed everyone else on the van from getting to where he or she needed to be.

This is a non-scale victory that I am truly celebrating! 

I Got the Nothing is Changing Fast Enough to Suit Me Blues

I got the blues.  Nothing serious.  Just tired of staying where I am (on the scales) blues.  I can talk a good talk about being patient – and how plateaus are part of the journey – but the truth is, I’m not finished with this journey – and I want to get where I’m going so badly!

I figured that I would stop losing eventually.  I had just hoped that it would be later rather than sooner – and much closer to my eventual goal.  I have tried changing things up – getting back to the basics.  Increasing the exercise.  I stubbornly stay within 2 or 3 pounds.  Gain a little – lose a little – over and over and over again.  I have said that if I stay where I am, I will be content – but deep in my heart of hearts, I know that isn’t true. 

A friend wrote the other day that “fat people are NOT happy with their bodies” – no matter what they say.  As a fat person – I have to agree with her.  I want to wear the cute clothes – I don’t want to have any hang ups about what I look like – I WANT to be free from all of the stuff surrounding obesity. 

There was a Dr. Phil show the other day where a mother who had struggled for decades with her weight was trying to keep her young adolescent daughter from going through the same thing – and frequently put her on celery and water diets to achieve that end.  She couldn’t see that the message she was sending her daughter centered wholly on what she looked like – and not anything on the kind of person she was becoming.  I know that what I look like is not THE thing.  Who I am on the inside is far more important.  But the inside is wrapped up in the outside – and even though I have lived much of my life separating the two – in reality, it is difficult to detach one from the other.

The good thing about the blues?  Admitting to them often allows other people express that they are feeling the same thing.  And knowing that I’m not alone really does make a difference.  It also helps knowing that the blues are not the destination – just a brief stop on the journey!

Apologies

I have had several people mention (or complain) that I haven’t been blogging as regularly as I should.  This cracks me up!  This little exercise means more than just me working through my demons with food and weight.  Other people are not only interested, but really seem to care about what I have to say!  (What cracks me up is not that other people are concerned – just that anything I could say would matter.)  My apologies to everyone.

But, it DOES matter.  I stay on track better when I’m blogging.  If I know I’m going to write about something – I pay more attention to it.  And as my life continues to be crazy busy, it is also a way to keep in touch with dear friends.  So, I am renewing my efforts on the blogging front. 

Part of the problem is that there is nothing new to report on the weight front.  I continue to maintain, which is GREAT!  But I am not dropping any more weight.  I don’t seem to be dropping inches either.  I’m not complaining about that, but just stating a fact.  I’m at a great place, but it isn’t a DIFFERENT place.

No news on my Lulu (the car that was stolen a couple of weeks ago).  At this point, I really don’t expect to hear anything, unless she is in an accident – or involved somehow in a crime.  My heart hurts over that, but I stomped around for a while in anger.  I went swimming in the pity pool.  And now I’m moving on.  I can’t change anything – I can’t bring her back, so what else can I do?  I still do a double take when I see an older white car – but in my heart, I know she’s a lost cause.

I have been thinking recently, more than ever before, about what I would do if I had the money to have some plastic surgery.  Truthfully, it is probable that having the surgery to reduce my arm flab, and the extra stuff around my middle, hips, and thighs would take off enough weight to get me very close to my goal.  Those are pounds that may not come off any other way.  Still – I have come far – and I have no regrets about my choices to date.  I don’t know what the future holds, although I can safely say that the immediate future will not have this kind of surgery.  Am I skinny?  Far from it.  Am I healthy?  Much healthier than I have been for most of my adult life.  It’s a good place to be. 

Thinking About Things

It seems that nearly everywhere I turn – there are advertisements for costumes for Halloween.  And even though I am NOT in the market to buy a costume, it has occurred to me that this year, for the first time in my adult life – I could actually fit into something that was not “plus-sized.”  The possibilities are endless – a fairy tale character – something from a movie – a princess – an astronaut!  This year, unlike so many prior years, I have a wealth of choices.

Now, I must confess that I love dressing up in a costume!  My employer allows us to dress up at work.  My favorite costumes are the ones that are homemade.  One year, I took an old t-shirt – and attached empty, individual-sized cereal boxes.  Each box had a plastic knife through it.  I dripped fake blood around the knives and down the t-shirt – and went as a “Cereal Killer.”  GROAN!  (Oh, the pun-ishment!)  But I got a lot of laughs that year.  One year I took a clear plastic dry cleaner’s bag – made a hole for my head and my arms – stuffed it with small, different colored balloons - sealed the bottom of the bag – and went as a bag of jellybeans.

If I dress up this year, I will most likely make my own costume – again!  But having the choices available…that is DEFINITELY another non-scale victory.  It is the difference between having two or maybe three different crayons at a restaurant (typically, blue, red, and yellow – or sometimes green) and having the great big box of 128 different colors to choose from!  I can do a lot with two or three crayons – but you should see what I can do with all of them! 

Whatever I decide to do – I will post a picture.  Maybe I will do something to reflect this journey I am on – something that shows the before and after…the choices are endless!

Dealing with Emotions

Today, I am dealing with nearly every negative emotion known to humans:  rage, sadness, disbelief, fear, and anxiety.  What could possibly be causing this?  My beloved Lulu – the car I bought six weeks ago – was stolen yesterday.

As usual, I parked it in the same exact spot I always use when I catch my vanpool.  When the van pulled into the parking lot last night – Lulu was gone!  My first thought was that my husband had moved it for some reason – and I called him to verify that.  He hadn’t.  (Occasionally, this sweet man has been known to fill up my car.)  My next call was to the police – where I completed a report over the phone.  No broken glass – nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the parking lot – except that my car, which was SUPPOSED to be there, WASN’T!  By this time, I was shaking so badly that I had trouble assimilating what the police officer was saying.  I understood enough to realize that the officer wasn’t holding out much hope that I would get her back.  She was an easy mark; as an older car – she didn’t have any kind of anti-theft or alarm system.  The officer said that she was either taken for someone to use it for a crime – and then abandon, or taken for parts.  The older cars are being targeted because more people are now driving older cars, and parts are increasingly difficult to find.  She was in good condition – so either way, she would be useful.  He told me to report back to them immediately if I somehow found the car (if I found it – and didn’t clear the “stolen” status – and they pulled me over – it would be with guns drawn.)  Then he told me to go home, call my insurance and file a claim (which I did).  Because Lulu wasn’t worth much monetarily, we only had the minimum insurance on her to keep her legal.  And they would be in touch if for any reason they “found” my car.

I held it together pretty well last night.  But today – I feel so violated.  It isn’t the money, although where we are right now, the money we spent for her is a LOT!  It’s really about what that car meant to me – freedom, independence, and the ability to come and go as I please.  Having been without those things for so long, I appreciated them more than I most people do.  And now, because there are people in this world who don’t care about anybody but themselves, those intangible ideas have been snatched away from me again. 

Still, there is good from this, too.  I wasn’t in or near the car.  I wasn’t harmed physically in any way.  As of this moment, I have no reason to think that anyone else was harmed.  Friends have been incredibly supportive after finding out about this.  One friend loaned me a truck, “for as long as I need it.”  I have found out that there are a number of other people who have gone through this – I’m certainly not alone.  Losing the car and the money we put into it hurts, but is not something that will kill us – so it has to make us stronger, right? 

I’m still mad – and sad – and afraid.  But those are normal sentiments when something like this happens.  And while I have acknowledged these feelings, I have not used them as an excuse to eat.  As much as Lulu meant to me, the car is not worth losing ground on this journey!