Welcome to February of 2022, everybody. I promise this won't be about Valentine's Day, though. I almost posted this on my Mental Health Blog, but I feel it's more of a physical issue than a psychological one.
I've had many signs that my already fragile health has been in decline since the pandemic started. I have not gone to see my doctor, however, due to the obvious risk of getting CoVid19 in route. As a pedestrian, I walk and take the bus everywhere I go. This usually doesn't bother me, but the more I tried to get things done this way during this issue, the more uncaring imbeciles I would encounter. Knowing how little our society cares about this very real problem is more than enough to have me embracing my inner hermit.
The worse I got, the more clear everything became. I read an article where a man having heart problems was denied from over 40 hospitals, eventually ending in his death, due to every hospital being filled with Covid19 patients. It doesn't surprise me that our local hospitals are having the same issue.
So it isn't really surprising that I went into denial every time my chest started hurting or I couldn't breathe. There are a number of people who'll read this and say, "Maybe it's a panic attack?!" I assure you, as I've had anxiety attacks from the age of 8 years old, I know the difference.
I take my medicine as prescribed, and my vitamins if things get too bad, but today a new revelation occurred. Now, I've been a bit overweight ever since puberty hit me when I was 10. I became obese somewhere in high school. I've been battling this weight issue for over 20 years. Nothing works because part of it was originally due to my mental health. However, these past few years have definitely made things worse.
On December 4th I discovered my weight is up to 332 pounds. This is the heaviest I have ever been, including my 2 pregnancies. Was I upset? Absolutely. I have no idea if I've lost or gained since then. I do know my clothes still fit, though...
This said, today was a new revelation. I knew I had gained a lot of weight, specifically in my torso, but I had no idea how bad it really was. I took one of my antacids, as I do when my heartburn and indigestion occurs, only to nearly choke on it. It lodged in my throat because I got distracted and tried to take it like I would my vitamins. My mother was kind enough to perform the Heimlich maneuver about 7 times before she gave up and handed me orange juice instead. I'm too big to properly Heimlich. This is a new low and a new nightmare bringing about a bunch of added anxieties I definitely don't need in my life.
I realize this isn't helpful in any way, but I have been trying to get back into shape. However, when you have 56DD breasts and asthma on top of being over 30 with all the pain and disfunction that number adds to an already messed up body - is it any wonder I'm having difficulty?
Lazy Girl workouts have been added to my daily life, but having a 5 year old jump on my spine does not encourage me to do much. I had a workout buddy before the pandemic, but this solitude has not been helpful in this tiny hotel room.
I'm leaving the comments open in the event of any helpful tips. Thank you and keep it clean. Also, don't try to sell me on any magical pills - that's bull and I pity the desperate folks who believe them. Thank you very much for listening to my rant and helping out in whatever way you can. Have a wonderful day!
