I'm angry and resentful

As always, I started my new me bullshit with good intentions. I had MFP and a lifting plan. After the first day, the lifting plan went down the drain. I pushed myself way too hard on that first workout, forgetting that my body is not the same as it was 8 years ago. I could barely walk without extreme pain and a limp for four fucking days. It was on the fourth day that I could finally exercise again. I rode my stationary bike for 20 minutes a day for the rest of the week, took it "easy" but it was agonizing. My legs burned and I was short of breath. Saturday I was determined to get a PR and got over 6 miles in 20 minutes. On level one. I suck.

Food has been good. I was logging with MFP until Thursday, when I opted to uninstall it and just use my FitBit app. I still use MFP for calculating the nutrition of recipes but that's all I plan to use it for. Once I finally figured out how to track sodium with the FitBit (through the Dashboard on their web site), I felt like the FitBit app was enough for my purposes. I'm trying to keep my calories under 1500 and my sodium under 2000 mg (but closer to 1500 mg if possible). So far I'm doing well. I've been sticking to mostly unprocessed foods. I'm down to 162 pounds, so that's a 10 pound loss (based on my scale) over the last 6 weeks.

So why am I so angry? Lots of reasons. I was sitting there on my bike today, pedaling along and knowing I wasn't going to get a PR. I just didn't have the energy. I started thinking about how I can't do Turbo Jam because it hurts my legs, and how I can't dance (if you call what my body does when music plays dancing) because it hurts my legs and I get too winded. I'm reminded every time I walk up the flight of stairs to my apartment that there is something seriously wrong with my body. I shouldn't have to lie down and rest for 10 minutes after climbing 15 steps. I'm angry that I let my body fall apart, that I didn't keep up with the badassery I achieved back in 2010, that I can't run 5Ks anymore or Turbo for an hour. I hate that I can't do the simplest of chores without needing a break.

I'm also angry how expensive it is to eat healthy foods, and how long it is taking for my taste buds to adjust to no added salt. I am angry that in addition to reducing sodium, I also have to lose weight, while my boyfriend eats Little Debbies because they are low in sodium. Spare me that moderation bullshit (I told you I am angry and resentful). I can't do that. I can't stop at just one treat. This entire blog evolved out of my tendency to binge eat. It pisses me off that I can't have shit like that now and then because there is no such thing as now and then for me.

I'm also angry that I'm angry. PAD is not a death sentence. It's a manageable disease. Will I ever be 100%? No. I'm lucky I am being diagnosed and treated now, while I am still "young" and not after I've had a stroke or heart attack. I'm mad that I let it bother me this much, instead of living the best life that I can.

Speaking of best life, my doctor put me on Lexapro and it has helped a lot. There are times when I actually feel content. I don't feel hate anymore. I am planning a future I actually look forward to. I still wish I drank or smoked pot though. My mind and body are missing something. Just every now and then, I want to feel blissfully disconnected from myself. For now, the best I can do is an extra Benadryl.

When I'm not angry, I'm pretty okay.

I Caved and...

Bought a Fitbit Charge 3 and put MFP back on my phone. If I'm doing this, I'm all in. Fuck, this sucks. I still have no plan but I have gotten better at flying by the seat of my pants in the last couple weeks. I still have a day to hammer out the details. My son wants to start exercising again. He lost about 25 pounds all on this own. I am so fucking proud of him.

Everything I've read about PAD treatment includes walk therapy. I don't want to fucking walk. It's dark and cold out and I'm not joining a gym. I could walk around the apartment but that will get old fast and I'm sure it would annoy the shit out of everyone here. Bah. I just want to ride my stationary bike and lift.

I am mainly struggling with finding recipes that are low in sodium and taste good. I have all the Mrs. Dash flavors and those help but it is still a challenge trying to figure out what I'm going to pack for lunches during the week. Today I made a breakfast casserole that tastes OK but it does have sausage (I wanted to use up what I had on hand) and it's not all that filling. I'm interested in baked oatmeal but I still want to keep my carbs in check. And I have to watch saturated fats. I can only eat so much protein.

We have started incorporating more types of fish into our diet. We eat a lot of bell peppers and stir fry. I don't drink nearly as much coffee and soda as I used to. My son hardly ever drinks soda anymore. I'm enjoying the tea but I think, overall, I am consuming more Splenda, even though I only use half as much per cup - I'm drinking like a thousand cups of tea. I tried a cup last night without any Splenda and it was nasty. Who the fuck wants to drink hot water? Not me. Yuck.

Baby steps.

I can make changes, or I can die

Excuse any typos...I wrote this on my phone.


I realize that is a little dramatic but the second half of this year has been scary and eye opening. I have to make significant changes to my lifestyle or I won't have a life to style.

Let me back up to last summer. I started noticing my legs would hurt when I went grocery shopping. I thought it was just because I fucking hated grocery shopping. Then I noticed my legs hurt any time I walked, and the longer I would walk, the more they would hurt. It was in both legs, starting in the calf and then into my thighs and hamstrings. Walking anywhere left my legs burning from hips to ankles, and I felt like I'd been running for miles. I thought maybe I needed to give them a good stretch but after a few months, climbing the stairs left me completely drained, in pain and out of breath.

So of course I went to Dr. Google and one of the first things to pop up was peripheral artery disease. I will be honest. The possibility scared the shit out of me. I knew my cholesterol was really high, I was overweight, smoking, lazy and had coronary disease in the family. I went through horrible months of fear and anxiety that I was going to die at home and my son would find me, or I would die at work on a Saturday when I work alone and no one would find me until Monday.

I wanted to see if it would get better if I quit smoking. After six months there was no improvement. It was getting worse but there were still things I could try before resorting to a doctor. If you know me, you know I really, really have a lot of anxiety about trying to find a doctor. I've had my new job and new insurance for almost five years and never once went to a doctor for anything. I knew without a shadow of a doubt I had PAD, and my new fears were that either the doctor wouldn't listen to me, or they were going to tell my I was going to die right away.

Then my boyfriend had his third heart attack. I will never forget any of that experience as long as I live. He wasn't feeling well one night and went to the ER. He sent me a text saying everything looked OK and they were just going to keep him overnight for observation. I went to see him the next morning and he looked terrible. He was having trouble breathing and the nurses told me I needed to leave so they could run some tests. I told him I would see him in the evening after I took my son to his dad's. I expected him to be home by the time I got back.

An hour after I left, the hospital called and told me I needed to come back right away because "he took a turn and went south pretty quick." Getting back to the hospital was the longest hour of my life, and it would be another three hours in the ICU waiting room before I could get back to see him.

Long story short, he had a heart attack and went into cardiac arrest. They had to shock him eight times. They opened up his arteries and put more stents in. When I saw him, he was in a medically induced coma and on a ventilator. They didn't let me stay long. I went home that night, and it was the first night in five years that I had spent alone. It was surreal. I didn't know what to do with myself. So I Googled. The survival rate for this kind of shit is abysmal. That could happen to me, and I wouldn't have the "experience" to know something just isn't right. So I finally got online and scheduled an appointment. The soonest I could get in as a new patient was six weeks.

This fucker is as stubborn as I am and he lived. He has had to make some significant life changes, like quitting smoking and eating better, watching his sodium. Two months later, he is still wearing a LifeVest to monitor his heart and shock him if needed. So far so good on that. He is doing cardiac rehab and it will still be a while before he goes back to work. If he goes back. But he is doing much better and if he stays off the cigarettes, takes his meds and does all that other shit, he should live a good long while.

So back to me. This is my blog, not his. I saw a PA at Sentara in Virginia Beach. I weighed in at 175 pounds. My blood pressure was 186/93. We talked about everything. My depression, my anxiety, my cholesterol, my leg pain. She listened to everything I said. She immediately put me on medication for blood pressure and changed my antidepressant. She ordered blood work and an arterial ultrasound of my legs. When my labs came back the next day, she prescribed something for my cholesterol and a Vitamin D supplement.

I went for my ultrasound the other day. The procedure itself wasn't bad at all. The only part that sucked is they made me do calf raises so they could do the ultrasound a second time and compare the blood flow during claudication events vs normal resting blood flow. They wouldn't tell me anything because "I don't want you asking what's next" but I saw my ankle-brachial index for my legs on the screen. ABI is basically the ratio of the blood pressure in your legs to the blood pressure in your arms. Mine was 0.65 in one leg and 0.7 in the other. Anything below 0.99 is indicative of PAD and my numbers put me in the moderate PAD category. My doctor called a few hours later and said I have "abnormalities in my blood flow" and the vascular specialist would contact me in a few days to schedule an appointment.

So that's where I am now. I've been reading about the surgery for this shit and it is simply not going to be an option. The recovery time can be long, and I can't be off work right now. So I have to change how I eat and I have to start exercising. Just one week on medication, my blood pressure is already significantly improved. I cut way, way back on the coffee creamer. I drink two normal size cups a day, if that, with a lot less creamer than I used to consume. I've switched to tea and reduced the amount of Splenda I put in it. My heartburn is all but gone. Other than that, I still feel the same. But it's only been a week on medications.

I spend a lot of time trying out calorie tracking apps but I really hate measuring and tracking. I get obsessive about numbers and being under my targets. Having to watch so many things is making me crazy. I took MFP off my phone. I have my FitBit app but that doesn't track sodium, which I need to watch. Since we have to make just about everything from scratch, it's very tedious. I don't have the mental energy for all that.

I also spend a lot of time looking at recipes and how to make things low sodium. That, too, is exhausting.  Right now I'm so overwhelmed by all of it. Every day is a struggle.

The best exercise for PAD is walking, even though it's walking that brings on the pain. It's getting colder and I just don't want to walk outside. I have a stationary bike. I plan to start with that and yoga on December 1. My ultimate goal is to get back into weight lifting and eventually be able to Turbo Jam again. I want to lose about 40 pounds and be able to walk and roller skate without pain. Mostly, I want to live. I don't know if there are issues with my heart but I would be willing to be there are. Call it vain but I don't want to have open heart surgery and have my tattoo on my chest all fucked up.

I also miss blogging here. This blog was always my release. It kept me focused on my health and fitness. So, I'm going to try to start posting regularly again. At this point, I don't know what my actual plan is. I don't want to log food into MFP or any other app. I don't want to obsess about food amounts down the gram. I don't want to log every exercise calorie burned. So we will see...