With June coming to an end and 2017 already being half-way over, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about my progress. I began this journey about seven months ago and I still have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve had many highs and just as many lows. I’ve learned a lot about myself (it turns out that everyone was right and that I AM destined to be a crazy cat lady). I frequently take on more than I can handle and find myself overwhelmed to the point of tears. It also turns out that I don’t like alcoholic cupcakes. To say I’m shocked and disappointed is kind of an understatement, but I suppose my liver is rejoicing.
Optimistic Catie (who just barely exists) wants to say that this year has been great and that I’ve made so much progress, but Realist Catie reminds us that this year has been deceivingly difficult. I’ve lost 20lbs and have spent quite a bit of time working on my mental health, but I still feel so terrible. Lately, it feels like food is my enemy and I can’t go a day without my body rebelling against me. I’m constantly tired, crabby, and headache-ridden. Everything hurts and I’ve had more needles shoved into my body this year than I have in the last 10 years combined. To be fair, eight of those pokes were from people who claimed I was “a hard stick”, even though no other medical professional has ever had a problem much to my dismay. In fact, I got a shot today that numbed my arm in the worst, tingly way like when you lean on your elbow for too long while looking at your phone in bed and when you turn to lay down, your entire arm feels like it’s been swallowed whole by a piranha (I know you know exactly what I mean, don’t try to deny this one). While the pain subsided within the hour, it peaked its horrendously ugly head again when my parrot-cat (a cat who sits on one’s shoulder in a bird-like manner) started gnawing on my Band-Aid. Realist Catie can’t help but to think that today would’ve been fine if I hadn’t gotten the shot, but SOMEBODY, I won’t name any names (hi mom!), says that I had to get here so here we are. Tired, sad, kind of cold, and starting to feel tingling numbness spreading up our arms.
To drag out the topic of pain even more, the reason I went to the doctor today was because I might actually be 97 years old and have had severe discomfort in my right hip for the last month. My anxiety has been through the roof. Clearly I have some life-threatening disease that’s going to take me out. During my drive to the appointment, I thought about calling a lawyer to arrange a will. Winnie and Luna will not be separated just because I’m dead. Luna’s undying love and Winnie’s extreme indifference creates a bond that can never truly be broken, at least on Luna’s side. After sitting in the examination room for 45 minutes, the doctor finally came in. I had been pacing for 15 minutes at this point and all of my fingernails lay in a small mountain on the floor. We talked and she aggressively poked my hip for a few minutes and shortly after I left with a diagnosis. Bursitis! If you haven’t heard of this, don’t be ashamed (or do be… it’s not really my place to tell you how to feel). According to WebMB, bursitis occurs when the bursa is inflamed. Because you probably don’t know what a bursa is, I took the liberty of reading more about it because, like, I know what it is, but like, I just want to make sure that you, too, know what it is…ha ha ha………… Anyway, the bursa is a little sac of protective tissue that is filled with fluids to help lubricate all the things that I hate talking about most (aka, muscles, tendons, etc.) to prevent any rubbing or friction. Luckily, the article also provides information on what activities are most likely to cause bursitis. These high-risk activities are gardening, raking, carpentry, shoveling, painting, scrubbing, golf, skiing, throwing, and pitching. Did I mention that this is most common in adults over 40? At least I finally have proof that I not only feel like an old man on the inside, but I AM an old man on the inside.
You may be thinking to yourself, “Catie, why are you telling us about your fluid-filled hip sack? Don’t you have better things to do, like work on the videos you need to edit or clean your apartment or something that actually matters?”
I’m glad you asked. You’ve brought me back from the depths of uncontrollable rambling to the point of this post. Over the past seven months, I’ve made a lot of progress, and don’t get me wrong, I am proud of all I’ve accomplished, but there’s something that still bothers me. I don’t feel any different. I’m still exhausted all the time. I’m constantly running on abundance of caffeine and anxiety. Every morning is a struggle to get out of bed. The boost of energy that I was promised from the beginning still hasn’t come. I’ve had more flare ups of the chronic pain in my neck than I have in over three years. My back is constantly stiff. I feel like I should’ve lost more weight. I feel like I should be so much farther along.
When I focus too much on my thoughts of this process, I feel defeated and unmotivated. Recently, I did what any normal Internet user would do in a situation like this: I turned to an online forum for advice. I joined a group through my FitBit app and asked my fellow life-changers how they stay motivated when they don’t feel any results. I figured if anyone would have good advice, it would be the people who are trying to reach the same goals I am. Turns out that I was very wrong and the offerings from the group included things like working out more or being patient. While patience has never really been my strong suit, I feel like seven months is PRETTY FREAKING PATIENT.
The medical professionals I’ve seen don’t seem to have much to say on the matter, either. They always tell me, “Don’t worry, it’s hard at first, but it will get better!” Really, Janice? Things will get better? HOW DO YOU KNOW, JANICE??? WHY CAN YOU NEVER GIVE ME SOUND ADVICE (please note that once again, there is no real Janice, and that this is just a pseudonym)?????
Somehow, even with all of this false hope, Optimistic Catie breaks out of the cage that she’s triple-chained into (I still can’t figure out how she’s doing this?), and makes me feel giddy and excited. She twists all the false hope into real hope, temporary, but real. When another month passes with no obvious changes, Realist Catie manages to wrangle OC back into her cell.
I just don’t understand. There are always stories circulating about people who lost over 100lbs in a year. I don’t even want to lose that much. I just want to not feel like a big pile of old crayons that got left in a car just a little too long.
As I go forth to my next doctor appointment for another blood draw (huzzah! I love needles!!11!), I’m left to ponder the most important question: Does it actually get better or is everyone just saying it to make me feel better? Hopefully I’ll soon have an answer and can fill you in on all the hottest gossip.
Until then, be well and don’t take full and painless function of your hips for granted.
