Letting myself go

I haven't felt quite right for the last year or so. I've been really tired, and feeling out of shape. It's frustrating, because a year ago I was jogging (fairly regularly) and could go up to 8kms at a time. Then, jogging became too hard and I stopped. Then I stopped working out almost entirely and I started to gain weight.

The more weight I gained, the harder being active seemed. The harder being active seemed, the more weight I gained.

I've been very frustrated with myself, and more than a little embarrassed at my fitness level.

I did go to a doctor when all of this started. He took a blood test and found nothing wrong. I can't say that I was overly fond of him, but I didn't doubt his knowledge as a Dr. Then, things seemed to get a lot worse this spring. My feet swelled so badly that I couldn't wear shoes. Walking up a flight of stairs will have me out of breath for at least a few minutes. Jogging or riding a bike? Not even a consideration, really.

So, back to the clinic I went. I saw a different Dr this time, but still didn't get the attention I thought I deserved. (I wrote about the first few visits HERE.) The Dr didn't seem to take me seriously, and I didn't feel as though he gave me his full attention. He did tell me that my iron and protein are a little low; but he didn't delve into the reason why. He just told me to eat more meat, and called it a day.

I vented about this Dr to my dad, and complained how hard it has been for me to find a Dr that I like. (Alberta has a shortage of family doctors, so most of the good ones are so busy that they don't accept new patients any more. As a result, most people - including me - end up going to walk-in clinics for assembly-line medicine.)

What I didn't expect is for my dad to be such a gossip. He's a retired Dr, and must have run off and repeated my story to a few of his cronies. The next thing I knew, I had an email from one of my dad's friends who had taken it upon himself to get me an appointment with a new family doctor (who otherwise isn't accepting new patients).

The appointment was early this week, and I really like the new doctor. He's the kind who shows you your test results, tells you what he's looking for and talks to you like you've got a half a brain. It turns out that the results from my tests show that my iron isn't "a little low". It's less than half the minimum recommended amount. So's my protein level.

No wonder I'm always feeling so tired!

Without getting too far into details, I'm going to need surgery to fix the source of the problem. I am to see a specialist on Monday to hammer out the details.

Until this week's appointment, I'd been ragging on myself for being out of shape, and trying to push myself to do more... and better. When I walk my dogs at night (taking an hour now, to go the distance that used to take a half hour) I've been feeling guilty that I'm only walking a short distance, instead of jogging. I was embarrassed that I dropped out of the boot camp fitness class, and really embarrassed about how out of breath I become when I take the stairs.

Now, I feel like I finally have permission to be less than 100%. Yesterday, for the first time that I can remember, I did absolutely nothing after I got home from work, other than watch tv and walk the dogs. I'm taking the elevator now, and feeling no shame about it. I've been going to bed by 9:30 at night because I'm tired... all the time. (Somehow, having permission to be tired makes me almost feel more tired than I even did before.)

Do I like being overweight and out of shape? No. Nor do I plan to let this be a long-term condition. Despite the two doctors that I was seeing earlier, I have faith in the health care system. I'm going to go for my surgery, get healthy, get my energy back and then get back into better shape. Until then, I feel like I've got permission to let myself go. And dammit; right now, that feels pretty good.