Posted in Exercise, Life Happens, My Journey

It takes a lot to take me down

Over the last few months, I have been frustrated with my body. I have been frustrated with myself for putting myself in this situation. I have been battling demons. Demons that tell me to give up. Demons that tell me that I am not supposed to be fighting this journey.

In January, I was walking down a flight of stairs after making a food delivery. As I walked down the stairs, I missed a few steps. When my foot went down to the ground, my knee buckled and I fell. In that one instance, I broke my tibia plateau on my right knee. I was devasted because I had to be in bed with a brace from my right buttocks to my ankle. I could not sit in a chair. I could not maneuver around my small one bedroom apartment.

That break hindered me from starting my journey when I wanted to at the beginning of the year. That break actually led to me gaining an additional 21 pounds. I ate my emotions. I ate comfort food. I ate food that was convenient because I needed it by my bedside. That break devastated me.

Photo taken from: https://healthblog.uofmhealth.org/health-management/knees-hurt-options-for-cartilage-related-knee-pain

The week before I came off crutches, I rejoined WW. I did because I knew if I did not take action right then and there, I never would. I would be trapped not only in my own body, but trapped in my life that was leading to one place — a coffin. My weight had gotten so out of hand that if I did not take action my husband could have been a widower by now.

After coming off the crutches and as I was recovering, I knew something else was wrong with my leg. I was having pain in my knee. Pain in my feet that was so unbearable that I would often find myself looking for help for balance. I went back to the doctor. After a very expensive MRI, it was discovered I had a serious tear on my medial meniscus cartilege.

My knee suffered so bad and it had been so long, I had no way out to repair it but through the operating room. I cried and agonized over this decision. After five surgeries in two years, the last place I ever wanted to go back to was the operating room. It has been five days since my surgery. I am healing. I am mending. But, the emotional toll of the surgery may take awhile.

I am patiently waiting for my follow up on Monday. Waiting for him to give me the, “everything looks great.” Until then, I sit. I wait. I worry.

I tell you all of this because it is becoming more and more important to listen to my body. To listen to what my body is telling me. If I don’t, I am going to injure myself even more. I need my legs. I need my ability to work out. I need my freedom. I need to be able to be who I was when I lost all my weight before.

This is not about weight loss. It is about my independence from this body that has trapped me for the last time. It is about my ability to walk into any store and be confident I can buy clothing. It is about the ability to walk down the street and not feel like I am being stared at. It is my independence on the line. And only I am going to make sure that I succeed.

On a side note, I lost two pounds this week! Instead of gaining! Even on crutches!

Author:

I'm just me. Doing life, struggling to succeed. I make no notions of being something other than who I am.

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