I have a “heavier thing” weighing on my mind to get to today.
But, first, let’s talk about yesterday and today in Paleo/RA for a minute. I say both days because I actually started this post last night and wrote a large part of it before closing my eyes to rest at about 4 AM – and lapsing into my chemo coma until 4:45 PM today. Yup.
The timing of the chemo coma is highly unpredictable with the injections – because the rate of absorption is variable depending on the site – but it always hits eventually.
So, first, Wednesday night was Methotrexate shot night – and it’s always a crapshoot as to how that will hit me – but this time it hit me HARD. As in, worse than ever, HARD.
I literally woke up vomiting Thursday morning. I’m sorry to be so graphic but this is RA reality.
As that has never happened before, I started trying to figure out what was different and realized that the Methotrexate I used had a preservative in it – where my normal one doesn’t. Needless to say, that is now counted among my allergies.
After that, I got up and got going. The day after my injection is always “Methotrexate Hangover Day” but I am used to carrying on. If I didn’t, I would lose a day every week (Funnily I had already written this before I fell out – “At some point, there will likely be a ‘chemo coma’ where I sleep for 12 or so hours – but that hits sporadically a day or so after my shot.”).
I worked at home throughout the day and then Sara and I ran a few errands during the afternoon.
On a funny note, I mentioned in an earlier post that it is Homecoming Week in our town, so all of the local shops are decorated. Our high school team is the Golden Gophers and one shop we stopped at seemed to have tried to turn a Christmas reindeer into a gopher for the week:
When we got back home, I made a simple dinner of marinated chicken breasts and green beans with sesame seeds:
I also cooked my spaghetti squash for an upcoming new meal that I am super excited about trying:
In addition to cooking, I also finally planted my cherry tomato seeds from the cute little indoor kit I found on clearance at TJ Maxx several weeks ago:
I love plants. 🙂
And I am LOVING my giant kombucha. I plan to head back to Publix for a couple more of them before the sale ends:
One thing that did come in from my internist appointment was my lipid profile. As I expected with my prednisone weight gain and diabetes diagnosis, it wasn’t great:
Now that I have a baseline, I expect to see a significant improvement at my recheck in three months.
That was all Thursday.
As for today, post chemo coma, I woke up in severe pain, as all of my meds were overdue, and have been taking it easy all evening. My wonderful better half made us dinner and I have been enjoying lots of kombucha and fizzy water and trying to get my body back to some semblance of order.
Now for the heavier thing.
First, a confession: When Sara and I went to see my Rheumatologist last week, we walked past the Bariatric Surgery Center and I found myself kicking around the idea in my head. Please know that I took no action steps towards this. I only mean that I did briefly consider the “what if’s” of it.
However, I actually knew the first patient to pass away from surgical complications from bariatric surgery in a local hospital very well – though that has been many years ago – and I also know that I am a terrible surgical candidate so it was only a passing thought.
Still, the thought was there.
So, tonight, I happened to see on Instagram that Roxane Gay, one of the leading “body positivity” feminists actually had bariatric surgery back in January and then wrote about it earlier this year – and somehow I just missed the news until today.
I’ve read a great deal of Roxane’s writing. She is a gifted author and professor and has written in painful, heartrending detail about her experiences that lead to her overeating – a horrific sexual assault at age 12 – and the terrible treatment she has received as a “super morbidly obese” woman (the medical term for a person with a body mass index greater than 50).
This piece explains a great deal of it:
Still, I was surprised to hear she had the surgery.
But I thought, “Maybe she will be happier. Maybe it will be what is best for her.”
Then I read her essay about it – and it just broke me.
Here it is. Please take a few minutes:
And I was overwhelmed with gratitude for having been all over my kitchen yesterday, in my apron, a happy little foodie, cooking – and enjoying – food.
Even dealing with weight issues now – and they are profoundly bothersome at times – because of my choosing to return to school to study nutrition, I am passionate about healthy food and I see a table overflowing with beautiful whole foods – especially if I’ve been able to prepare them myself – as an incredibly positive thing.
Interestingly too, though, when it is “treat night,” like when I’m out to dinner with my bestie or adventuring with my daughter or my husband and I have date night, I have no qualms about enjoying everything about the meal, from appetizers to dessert, where I would have had trouble enjoying it in the past. Food is a beautiful, fun part of life to me now.
And reading someone so ripped apart, both by the experience of eating and of not being able to eat, just breaks my heart. And this is an amazingly gifted, brilliant woman, who is truly capable of doing anything. And she is suffering so terribly at the hands of her plate.
Don’t misunderstand me – this isn’t an opinion piece on weight loss surgery. There is a place for it and the decision as to whether it is right for each person is so personal. This is about helping people heal their relationship with food and their bodies, helping them to see food as an inherently positive thing – not the enemy.
I am still working on weight loss and still have struggle days but I am so grateful to not live in that place anymore and I hopeful to be able to eventually work with others who are suffering, to help them get free.
Be well, everybody. Happy Weekend!
Grace and Blessings.
writer. holistic nutritionist. disabled nurse. wife. kid & fur mom. Follower of Jesus. Spirit Junkie.