I am back, with my left leg encased in tight bandages from groin to foot and I am wearing a full length support stocking on top of that lot! I have had painful phlebitis in my leg and had a foam scleropathy op at the hospital yesterday.
Sigh. It's at times like this that I wish I didn't have big wobbly thighs. The bandage and stocking are digging in tightly and will do for the next fortnight, until they're removed. My leg hurts...and painkillers only serve to make me feel groggy. My grumpy blog name suits me right now.
I haven't much to blog about really other than my own lack of desire to do this thing - to lose weight. Oh the wish to be smaller remains, but the will to make it happen seems to have vanished in a haze of indulgent comfort eating. I find myself making my way to the far corner of the supermarket where the fresh cream cakes are stacked in the cool cabinets. I have done that three days in a row. I have bought a two-pack of cakes, taken them home and eaten both with a big mug of tea. I won't lie. I enjoyed them immensely. They've been wonderful.
Doctor's orders are that I have to walk daily after this operation, to get the circulation going I suppose, so that the blood by-passes the foam-blocked, useless veins, and my other veins, compensating for their loss continue to 'pump' efficiently..or whatever the medical term is for the valve actions we have which are responsible for good blood flow.
Hah. My two daily walks have taken me to the supermarket where I have stocked up on crap-but-good-tasting-food. Foods full of fat and sugar. How stupid am I????
It's like I have an urge to eat the crap - in an "I just don't care" kind of way. I may not have been losing weight at a fast rate, but I wasn't gaining because for the most part I had gone without indulgences. I'd been eating sensibly....lazing about too much, but eating nutritious foods mainly and in reasonable quantities.
Why do we do this? Why do we sabotage ourselves in a sort of "I don't care how fat I am!"mindless way?
Do you have episodes like this? My cakes are my indulgences, my comforts, my treats. I 'deserve' them I tell myself even though they'll add to my weight and rekindle my desires for sugary foods. Why don't I buy myself a book or a new lipstick? Why did I, like a woman possessed make a bee-line for the cake shelves?? Why?
I don't understand it. A moment on the lips...a lifetime on the hips...because yes, that gungy, gooey, wonderful, soft, creamy cakiness is only in my mouth for a short while. Afterwards I feel part guilt at succumbing, part arrogant defiance at whatever it is in me that tries to control these urges. I can't blame my hormones. Most of those vanished with the onset of the menopause when I was 42!
I hope this madness won't last. When I eat cakes regularly it's like all my good food intentions fly out of the window too. You know the thought processes. "Oh well. I have had cakes, I have derailed, I might as well enjoy it for a bit longer. What's in the fridge?"
Anyway, one good thing is, I have to walk daily and on several occasions if possible, so I'll be a fit fat woman. I have planned a pre-dinner walk in the countryside with my man tomorrow. Doctors orders. 'You must walk.' Thankfully I am not defying that instruction.
I just hope I can find the urge to get back on track. I feel I don't want to, that I am OK with giving up on myself. Right now if I had the chance to drown in a bath full of cream cakes I'd jump in :(