I'm having one of those moments.
The moments where, despite the good going on in your life, the bad just keeps grabbing your attention.
A few weeks ago, I was asked by my new doctor (the other had stopped practicing) to take a few tests. The standard, 'let's just get your numbers' kind, nothing epic. I had held off for a while, making sure I didn't eat anything crazy the few days leading up to it, just in case it might make the numbers off.
I was sure everything would come out great though, because at the end of last year, I had started my exercise regimen again and started watching what I was eating more. By April, I had lost 35 lbs, and was nearly saint-like with anything that had passed my lips, even going as far as giving up pizza and chocolate. Lord forbid if it wasn't low fat or fat free. I actually cant even remember what real soda tastes like.
So, the night before, I was modest with dinner, and passed on the hot chocolate aperitif. I knew I'd probably be pretty hungry the next day, but it would have to wait. I was supposed to fast 12 hours prior to begin with, so another hour or two couldn't hurt.
I arrived around 1 pm, glad to see I was one of 3 people in the waiting area. The whole process took about 10 minutes, and was surprisingly efficient.
Joe had left the parking lot, so I had to stick around until he came back. Next to where all this went down, though, was an auto place. Don't really know if they were restoring, or if they were just mechanics, but the overwhelming smell of heavy cheap gasoline permeated the air. So, I had that, no food or liquid in my stomach, a slightly lightheaded feeling from missing a few vials of blood, and the cold to contend with. Joy.
The next morning, around 8, I get a call.
The results from the tests came in.
Wow, that was quick.
There are a few concerns, however...
She goes on to tell me my sugars are a little high. So, I should really watch the sugars, starches and carbohydrates. My triglycerides are elevated too, so watch my fats and try taking some fish oil pills. Also, my white blood cell count is high too...have I just gotten over a cold?
I take flax seed pills, I tell her. And it was chilly the day of the test which might explain the cell count.
Well, guess who has to take the tests again? And lets just keep an eye on that ca125, even though Fox Chase said it wasn't there.
This hits me in all the wrong areas.
I've been good....so very good, for almost a year. I exercise as much as I can, burning (if my calculations are correct) 3250 calories a week. I even felt guilty for 'cheating' on my birthday.
Combine that, with everything that's wrong with me to begin with. Asthma and allergies to dust, pollen, nickel and an assortment of minor others. The big autoimmune allergy to the cold...familial cold urticaria. High blood pressure, and yet, bad circulation. PCOS and a seemingly non-functioning system. Minor arthritis. And this is just the stuff I take medicine for.
It got me thinking...what makes me so special?
Why should I get to live...in this broken body, when healthy people die every day?
It made me feel like I was taking someone else's chance to live. Every breath I took, every pill I swallowed. Undeserved, stolen time.
By nature, I should be dead.
By nature, I would have been, at least 3 or 4 times already.
As early as 9 months old.
So what makes me so special? Why should I get to live?
This is what I dwelled on, for days.
So, I quit trying to be so angelic. What was the point, if it wasn't helping? My levels were almost the same as last time, when I was heavier, and didn't care about trying to be fit.
It didn't last long though. I've entered a sort of mentality where if I eat more than a few days worth of unhealthy, I default back to the good stuff. Also, keeping busy with random things kept me from kicking myself too hard.
Plus, it doesn't hurt that the Calabrese show is tomorrow night, so how sad could I feel knowing that?
I'm still looking for my 'thing' though, my redeeming value for being on this earth. Hopefully, I can find it soon, and...do something with myself. Heh.
Oh...and, should anyone be wondering, yes, the last post was for thee Bobby Calabrese.