Health | BulgingButtons

Well hello treadmill, how have you been? I know it’s been a while since I’ve stopped by, but here I am, so let’s dispense with the pleasantries and get on with it. Since I’ve last seen you I’ve had some rather uncomfortable surgery. I’ve been recovering for a while, and I’m ready to do a little exercise now, but don’t expect too much of me. Still, I feel better than I have, and I’m tired of wearing the same few things that aren’t excruciatingly tight on me, so it’s time we got reacquainted.

Funny thing is, when I had the surgery I kind of expected that my body would change, but not in the way that it has. It seems that all of the bulk has shifted down and now it’s impossible for me to wear most of my pants. Ugh. And my shirts aren’t nearly long enough to hide the hideousness underneath. It’s exasperating, so it’s time to get off my considerable butt and start doing something about it. I hate hauling all this weight around. It’s uncomfortable, unattractive, and generally a nuisance. The health issues are a factor too, of course, but nobody wants to hear all of that medical mumbo jumbo, least of all me.

Alright, so now I’m here, hair in a ponytail, t-shirt and shorts donned, neon green socks tucked into running shoes. The tiny room is way too hot to be comfortable, but I can’t move you, so I have to make the best of it. The ceiling fan is circling, a water bottle is propped up on you sweating like mad, and my newly downloaded training ap is ready to coach me. My son is in the room too, playing video games on a heat generating tv, and creating his own heat too.

Deep breath, and here we go. Start with a five minute warm up, says the ap. Ok, I’m walking, I’m walking. Do I really want to do this? Yes, I suppose I do. Oh no, now the ap says jog. I crank you up a few notches and make my feet move faster. When was the last time I jogged? I have no idea. Phew, now back to walk. This pattern continues for a while. Water bottle number one is drained and son has replaced it. At my panted request, a second fan has been maneuvered into place and pressed into service. Still I carry on. You keep me going, faster, slower, faster, slower. At last, my little digital trainer tells me that it’s time to cool down. I push your buttons and you happily comply, easing me into a slower pace. But cool I am not. I am quite warm so I drink from my second water bottle and enjoy the breeze directed at my backside.

I thought it would be miserable. I thought I would hate it. It wasn’t, and I didn’t. It felt satisfying and productive. I know it was only the first one, the first little workout with my new training ap, but I’m hopeful that there will be many more. You will be seeing a lot more of me, treadmill. We both deserve it.

*This piece was written several weeks and visits to the treadmill ago. FYI, that ap still kicks my butt but the treadmill and I are becoming friendlier to one another.

Yesterday was an “interesting” day for me on the medical frontier. Two things happened that made me really think about this whole health and wellness idea. As in, “I’m really glad I’m taking this health and wellness thing seriously.” The first thing that happened was I had a date with liquid nitrogen. If you’ve never experienced it, I can assure you that you’re not missing out on too much fun. Liquid nitrogen is used by physicians to freeze and subsequently cause nasty little skin growths to fall off. It hurts. Depending on the area treated, it can hurt quite a bit. Of course, that’s just me talking. Someone else might say it’s mildly annoying or something like that, but to me, it’s pretty uncomfortable.

Here’s how it went down. First, I was ushered into the “surgery” room about five minutes after my appointment time. Pretty darn good, I’d say. Then I chatted with the nurse about all the fun things that were to be removed. The thing is, most of the little nasties are skin tags, and they tend to form in areas that rub, as in the nooks and crannies that a fat woman like me has in various and sundry places around her body. This, of course, requires the doctor have access to all these areas, so I was offered a paper drape and left alone. Big deep breath in, shorts off, and I get myself situated and wait. And wait. And wait. I know they’re busy and I know that the later in the day it gets the more likely they are to be backed up. I totally get that, but tell it to my fear and anxiety response that was steadily climbing. By the time the doctor, nurse, and medical student arrived for the party, I was good and stuck to the paper covering on the exam table, due to my stress sweat. Weird, since the air conditioning was so cold that I was beginning to get frostbite in my toes. Anyway, that’s how the doctor found me, crunched up paper on my lap, soggy paper under my bottom, and me with jitters and very little dignity left in the middle. Great.

Lucky for me, he’s a pretty awesome guy, so I managed to carry on while he got on with the festivities. Ow. Ouch. Oh. Eighteen triple zaps of the freeze ray later, he was done. He helped me sit up and my head spun. I’m such a big baby, I know.

But, wait, if you were paying attention you know that my medical adventures weren’t quite over yet. That’s right, there’s a part two to this post!

So, in conjunction with the aforementioned skin appointment, I also had an appointment to pick up equipment for an at-home sleep study. I felt very official walking out of the building with my little black plastic equipment case (similar to the one pictured above, but black). Inside it held the contraption that would tell my doctor about my sleep, and if I had any issues that he might be able to help me with. Now, let’s be clear on this, I do not want a C-PAP machine. I have no desire to be hooked up like a fighter pilot as I drift off into dream land. The doctor tells me that there are other, less obvious things that might be appropriate, but first we must do the sleep study.

I was relieved that it was at home, because the images I’ve seen on tv of people doing sleep studies are ridiculous. Of course those people can’t sleep! They’re all hooked up and in a strange bed with people staring at them. I couldn’t sleep like that either. My equipment was much smaller. It most resembled the headgear worn by the nerds in Sixteen Candles. After a slightly inauspicious start (it told me there was a fatal error and started beeping, this was slightly stressful, but I worked through it and got it recalibrated) I actually was able to sleep with it just fine. I dropped it off this morning (before 10 or I had to pay a $75 fine, gulp) so now I wait to hear what the doctor thinks. Maybe a mouthguard? I’ll keep you posted.

All this medical nonsense got me thinking about how much my body would appreciate me giving it a break. I really do make it work hard, even just to do simple things like tie my shoes and sleep. Still, it isn’t giving up on me. Yesterday I took a brisk 30 minute walk on the treadmill followed by a 15 minute swim/water jog. It really felt good, so I have hope. The mirror isn’t encouraging me at all yet, but I have to give myself a break. I deserve it.