156-Pound Weight loss, and so much more!

1919 days ago, in January 2017, after a girl’s night out when none of the other ladies wanted to sit beside me in the movie theater, I came here to MFP frustrated and angry with myself. I weight 312 pounds, could hardly walk, and the slightest physical movement left me huffing and puffing and gasping for air. I have two autoimmune disorders, for which I took steroids and heavy medications back then.

Three years later, in October 2019, I had lost 145 pounds and was only 10 pounds away from my goal weight -which I reached in December 2019. One morning, the scale showed 156 pounds, and with a 156-pound weight loss; I had lost half of my weight.

From January 2017 to December 2019, I learned to walk again. First beside a golf cart, so I could sit down and take a break when I needed one. Later on, I started hiking with Nordic trekking poles and even hiked with others, always with a fold-up chair strapped to my backpack in case I needed it.

I learned to fence, played tennis, and tried to play squash. I enjoyed our belly dancing class and started kickboxing. It was so simple. I learned to trust my instinct. Now I can talk about my feelings, my wishes, and my dreams. I have no more need to eat my emotions. I reward myself differently. Food became fuel, fuel turned into energy.

For health reasons I went dairy and gluten-free, gave up sugar (most of the time), and could stop all my medications. My autoimmune disorders were in remission. Life was good! I had achieved what I wanted.

Now looking back, I can see that the weight loss was just the beginning of a journey. Right about the time when I celebrated my weight loss success, my husband had unexpectedly quadruple bypass surgery. From one day to the next, I became his caretaker, which frightened me a lot at first.

The physical strengths it takes to take care of an adult should not ever be underestimated, yet I could fulfill all my new duties with ease. I went up and down the stairs fifty times a day, a task that would have seemed almost impossible when I carried so much extra weight with me.

A few months later, my husband needed another surgery. This time the recovery would take over eight months. Cutting his food, serving him, making sure he was comfortable in his recliner. Walking with him in the park, he on a walker, me beside him, watching out for him, making sure he was safe.

Then the pandemic started, we all were on lockdown, which we managed nicely. My husband’s cardio diet was so similar to the way we ate already, not many changes were made.

We were so careful, still, we both got COVID 2020 in November, four weeks before my husband’s last surgery -a smaller procedure. The virus knocked us off our feet and stole my taste and smell, but even though we were both considered ‘risk patients’, we only got a mild form. Two months later, we were back to normal, life went on.

His last surgery left us very optimistic. The word “benign” works like a magic pill! We were upbeat, life was good for ten months, then COVID got us for the second time, but again, it wasn’t too bad. By then we were both vaccinated and booster-ed up.

My husband was over it in a week. I suffered longer, which happens if your immune system is out of whack. Four months later, by the end of March, I felt sicker and sicker. I heard the words LONG THERM COVID and COVID AFTERMATH - and didn’t like either.

I was in constant pain and my autoimmune disorder was no longer in remission. My blood work nutrition-wise perfect, showed high inflammations markers, the ones I thought I would never see again.

Why am writing this novel?

Last week at my doctor’s appointment, when they took a gallon of my blood and run all tests that were needed, they send me all over the place. Even though it was in one building, I was sent to different floors and wings, all with endless hallways. I noticed that 80% of people with autoimmune disorders are overweight or morbidly obese. I am not! Many were transported in wheelchairs, they didn’t even offer me one. I walked all day long from one place to the next. I felt pride!

I carried paperwork with me and I couldn’t help but had to take a peek. What I read, I will never forget!

White female, middle age, slim, very fit for her age.

I smiled, tears ran down my cheek. I would have never thought to read this about me, it surprised me. Losing weight and staying at a healthy weight is not ‘just’ for the looks, being healthy and slim means so much more.

I know that even as a ‘Fat Lady’ I would have turned into superwoman -as all women do- and would have found a way to take care of my husband, but I can only imagine how much harder it would have been. So much happened in five years!

I took a low-dose chemotherapy drug for the first time last week and will continue to do so until my autoimmune disorder is back in remission. I am the ideal candidate, me, the former fat lady.

Go, lose it all, but don’t lose yourself! Learn and adjust and fly high, and fulfill your dreams.

Food is not love! You can't eat love!

(Sorry this was a long share but one I needed to write)