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Never Tell Me the Odds (July Health Update)

If you've been following my journey with health issues at all, you probably already know all the things. But I'll recap quickly for the newcomers and forgetters.

*I have gained 100 pounds in the last ten years despite healthy eating and consistent exercise

*numerous doctor's appointments were a bust until I went to a rock star endocrinologist

*I have a benign brain tumor that causes my hormones to do the wacky

*my treatment began last November

*my thyroid is also being a little bitch

*treatment for that began in May

*my doctor has warned me repeatedly to not expect weight-loss until the tumor is gone

*I'm not one to give up, so I've been eating healthy and lifting heavy weights

Okay, all caught up?


I weighed myself yesterday. It's my monthly weigh-in and I wasn't expecting a whole lot. I haven't been feeling well. My sleep hasn't been awesome and my body has been sore—as in, every single muscle protesting regular movement. And I have to keep the knowledge ever present that I probably won't actually lose weight.

Anyway, I'm down another 5 pounds.

I know, I know, it's only 5 pounds. That makes it 25 since finding the tumor. Slow? You have no idea. I'm not sure if there's anything more frustrating than knowing how much work and thought you're putting into something and seeing ZERO results. It's a type of discouragement I've never experienced. Even with the doctor saying, "What you're battling is another 100 pound weight gain," doesn't really make me feel all that great. Because I KNOW I'm doing everything I can.

But here's the thing.

I couldn't stop grinning yesterday. And it was even a pill day (the cabergoline makes me hella sick for 24-hours)! I'm so proud of myself. I'm so happy about my progress I feel silly.

I wanna snuggle my chubby self and tell me I'm doing a good job.

I don't care if that makes me sound like a weirdo. The snuggle is strong over here.

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