By now I'm sure most of you know, at least in a very general way, about my slow trudge toward a significant weight loss. I'm making progress, and it is most definitely rewarding to see how far I've come from where I started, but I'm not there yet. The progress is slowing down too, which admittedly irritates me though is not any cause for concern. I am told slower weight loss is more conducive to success, and so I will continue to believe. (I'll ask you, most kindly, to not shatter the illusion, please?)
Careful! Weight loss can sometimes have unintended consequences!
A few weeks ago, I was noticing a continuing tremor in my hands. Putting it a little more bluntly, I was constantly shaking like a leaf. My heart was racing to an unseen finish-line and sometimes I felt as if I were gasping for breath just to get it to settle down. I felt wired all the time and my usual caffeine intake (which has not been any sort of issue) was suddenly too much. Those of you who know me well understand how cutting back on coffee was…challenging…to say the least.
One sunny day, while sitting at my desk cursing silently at my violently shaking hands, telling them most cruelly how useless they were as they clumsily pounded out more typos and nonsense in one short paragraph than my poor ergonomic keyboard typically sees in a year, I had an epiphany: No more thyroid equals daily maintenance medication carefully considered and prescribed by my doctor for a person nearly 23 pounds lighter (at the time) than the person the medication was calibrated for. So, I made a call to the endocrinologist to schedule an appointment.
The following week, blood-work complete, results in! What do you know? Just as I suspected; I was over-medicated! After the appointment, a prescription for a lower-dose of thyroid medication, and a couple of weeks for my body to adjust, I feel human again. I have to go back in two months for a follow-up, but so far so good.
Healthier doesn't always mean happier!
Hubby is a massage therapist. One of the things he must do in order to keep his license in good standing is to have a certain amount of continuing education each year. Not quite two weeks ago, he attended a seminar called What Is In Our Food. It was a six-hour seminar for health professionals and came to a town nearby.
I knew (knew!) when he came home from this class his head would be teeming with information and he would immediately dump out everything in our refrigerator. (Ok, not quite everything – but pretty close.) We are now both actively trying to make better food choices, and let me tell you, it isn't easy. Not only is it difficult, but it's expensive and lacks any kind of palatable taste. It's boring!
As an example, I'm trying very hard to acquire a taste for plain, Greek yogurt. I think it's going to take a lot of acquiring. After the first couple of shudder-inducing, taste bud mishaps, a fair amount of grumbling on my part, and some well-placed advice from Hubby as to how to (healthfully) enhance the flavor of the thick, sour cream-like substance, I have discovered a tolerable level of edibility.
I don’t believe I will ever be a health-food nut. (Another kind of nut, absolutely, but not the health-food kind.) My love for all things pizza negates just about any possibility of my becoming someone who pours soy milk on her organic kamut flakes in the morning. But I do think I can continue to make a conscious effort toward making better food choices. I can just about guarantee you there will be grumbling; I’ll complain about it, a lot. However if my own personal better choices can make a difference for me, imagine what my children might learn by proxy?