Sucker Punched

I had a doctors appointment today. It was a follow-up, but I had to discuss another issue that has reared its ugly head AGAIN (fibroids). No biggie. Right up until the nurse who took my BP and weight, decided to tsk, tsk, tsk me about my obviously not controlled BP & my weight.

"Don't you work out and stuff? You got gym clothes on an all?"

BYATCH WHAT!!!! That red haze of rage & watery eyes of frustration clouded my eyes and for once I was stunned into silence. Why? Cause I was being tsk, tsk, tsk'ed by a nurse that was 2x larger that me. Da Hell YOU know about it? But okay.

Enter the doctor. Who promptly told me she only had 10 min to conduct this exam..."But let's TRY (you know what I think about trying) and see if we can address your other issue." She flipped open my chart, told me what we needed to do first to "rule out" other causes (Listen, honey, been there-did this, let's move along) and then told me "You know, for your height your weight makes you morbidly obese. If you would JUST loose some weight, you might not have so much difficulty with the fibroids." FUGGGGGG YOU!!!!

Two weeks after finishing my first triathlon - still feeling pretty damn good about myself - I get SUCKER PUNCHED in the gut that I am a walking ball of death about to stroke out and that if I simply lost some damn weight I'd be all hunky dory.

It just isn't that fuggin simple.

I have been struggling with my weight for over almost 30 years now. FIGHTING a battle that just seems futile. I was put on "TRIM" tables at West Point which stood for The Right Image of Me for years and threatened that I wouldn't graduate if I didn't make weight. What the fugg do you think that does to you psyche when you are constantly reminded that your image ain't the right one. I was told that I would get a poor "performance" rating from my commander if I didn't make not only the "tape test" but also the weight standard. Didn't matter that I was a Master Fitness Instructor and could whoop his azz up and down the track or was one of the ONLY officers or soldier in my unit that maxed out the PT test.

The stuggle, the battle continues...and today a bit of the wind got let out of my sails...and I wanted to lay down my armour; my sword and give up the fight.

...and then there was TDJ - who, while at work, took the time to walk me back from the ledge. There was MsPattey that gave me the biggest phone hug ever and real talk. The converstation of forever friends. They gave my wind back and I picked up sword.

...and then there was The FireMarshall, who, when I wailed "Why can't just one thing be easy! Why can't just one thing NOT be a struggle." enveloped me in his arms and said "We are easy, baby. We are easy."

He gave me the strength to continue the fight. I put on my armor and with my sword in hand am ready to get back in the fight.

I am a warrior. I refuse to get beat.