To eat or not to eat – fat is the question

Yeah ok stupid title, sorry, sometimes a weak rhyme ‘fits’ even though it’s not going to make anyone think how smart I am to have thought of it (which is something us budding bloggers can and do agonise over … standing out because we’re oh so smart at all that sort of wordy stuff …) but rather than spend ages trying to come up with something super-clever, well, I have to admit that I’m not.  Super-clever that is. Somehow that sentence lost itself. Or maybe I Just couldn’t understand it myself. Oh dear.

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Hello 🙂 Now, back to the eating thing.  Which you’ve probably forgotten about by now, after all that.  Actually, how about we all think I meant to do that!  Distract you.  Now that would make me look clever.  Ok, no.

You’ve probably guessed what I’m about to confide anyway.

Yep.  That four letter word. Diet.

Something I thought I’d never, ever, have to do again. And I won’t carry on about the whole story that landed me back in ‘my clothes don’t fit me any more’ land.

Except to share with you the final piece of that long sad tale.  Goes like this …

I had HSCT (you know, the Hematopioetic Stem Cell Transplant thing, it’s a hot topic for a lot of MSers) … it involved chemotherapy, and a lot of infusions of various important liquidy stuff that in very simple terms kills off the immune system, while lots of other liquidy infusion stuff keeps all your organs safe.  So, you end up almost sure you can hear waves of water splashing around when you move, because you’re all bloated and hoping you’re going to make it to the bathroom for the umpteenth time before losing control, even though the kind nurses have provided you with supersize nappies they say can definitely handle a deluge.  Add steroids to that and voila! suddenly you’ve put on many many pounds.  Or kilos, choose which you prefer.

I gained over 6 kilos in one week.  While I was in hospital.

By the time I came back home I’d lost it all plus another 5 kilos. That’s 11 kilos. About 26 pounds or something, I haven’t done the conversion, that’s just my guess. But I lost all that, and came home lighter than when I left. I was looking good, a bit jaded and frazzled after high dose chemotherapy, but good.

And I even fit into those jeans I had tucked away in the bottom drawer, you might have the same pair, the ones you’ll get back into one day.

That was about six months ago.  And heaven help me I’m back where I started but somehow I’ve changed shape or something. I weigh what I used to weigh pre chemo, but I can’t fit into the pants I used to wear all the time.  So I’ve had to admit defeat, and I’ve bought myself a few pairs of stretchy pants, in a larger size.  I could cry just thinking about it.

AND we’re going on a cruise in a few months, to celebrate coming through chemotherapy and stuff.  Good grief, that’s gone all wrong now!  So I need to, well, definitely want to and probably need to for health reasons, lose some weight. I could just aim for that 5 kilos less than I was before chemo, but no not me, I’m shooting for the stars. 10 kilos. I will lose 10 kilos. That is my mission.

Now, I’m pretty hopeless these days, at self control stuff. Like, it was Easter and I could have said no to at least a few chocolates.  Could have but didn’t.  So I’m not trusting myself, I’ve ordered my meals from one of those diet delivery service things, 1200 calories a day. It’s not cheap, it’s not expensive either really so I will keep it up for as long as I can and as far as my pocket can handle it.

And I’ve convinced my sister-in-law that it’d be wonderful if we did this diet thing together.  Safety in numbers, sort of.

So, starting next Tuesday my diet begins.  Well Wednesday, it gets delivered the day before.  For now I’m just psyching myself up – but I’ll keep you all posted!

Wish me, and my sister-in-law, luck!

Catch you again soon – I’m actually excited tee hee! 🙂

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