Got a message from my doctor, apparently my ultrasound’s all clear.
But it doesn’t really ease my mind.
The reality is, I know something’s different. So if that’s not it, what? But I’ve changed so much in my life in the last 18 months, and so much has changed on me, that a starting point for what’s going wrong is not so easy to find, since change isn’t always easy to peg as “right” or “wrong”.
See, my problem is, I was a perenially sick kid. They didn’t know what was wrong with me, but serious shit was. Turns out I had a rare kidney disease (wound up documented in medical journals for it but it has long since gone into remission) that affected me until I was 13 or so. But they did test after test after test after test that never indicated anything “really” was wrong. Except for my nearly-dead left kidney, that is, and the fact that I kept missing school and winding up in Emergency.
So I don’t really trust tests. They’re misleading.
I’m not gonna sit around all paranoid and doomsdayish, either, but I’ll certainly be a little concerned, I’m sure. Why shouldn’t I be?
Fortunately, it’s only for about 3 or 4 days every second month that I have any issues, so I can put it out of my mind most of the time.
After all this, I’m motivated to really take a look at the diet and nutrition areas of my life these days. Moreso now out of fear of the future and a desire to change an outcome I may have predetermined with my three decades of horribly unfit living. It’s never too late, I’m told. And now’s a good time, right?
Not like I don’t have momentum. Or like I haven’t been doing the inside-the-box thinking along the lines of healthy eating and such. But now I’m thinking outside the box and willing to take bigger actions.*
Later this summer when, I hope, my finances should settle down a bit, I want to start sessions with a naturopath. That’s the next level, after dealing with the aesthetics of weight-loss, the actualizing of the health I’ve always longed for.
When it comes to health, I’ve got a laundry list of issues I’ve dealt with, lived with, or overcome in my life, and the road to where I’m going is still very much uphill.
I don’t have the resolve for healthy eating I really need, not yet. But I’m eating less crap all the time, and my choices keep improving, even if only in bits. Well, most of the time. I still have butter in the fridge, for instance.
Little scares like this, though…
They make you go, “Whoa. What am I doing to myself, really, over the longterm? More importantly, what am I doing FOR myself?”
And, sure, I’ve made FANTASTIC achievements in my health-realm. But I need more. That I need to accomplish more and have further to go doesn’t discount what I’ve done already, not by a long shot. It just reinforces how much is possible, given the magnitude of what has already been done.
I will get there.
I just hate reminders of how far from the peak of this I am. But I guess that’s life for us, we’re always never where we’re going; we’re always journeying. So it’s not really about where you need to get to or where you’ve been, it’s more about whether you’re standing still or keeping on keeping on.
And I suppose that’s some of what’s frustrating me — my injury, etc, I’ve been stagnating and standing still, but moreso because I’ve chosen to act differently. I’m drinking more is the one big change in my life — and now my weight is standing still again. All because I’ve fallen in love with wine again. At least I’m not gaining, but I’m not doing what I want. If I could exercise at the capacity I’d like, that wouldn’t be an issue. But I can’t, so it is, and whose fault is it? Precisely.
Ahh, well. Rome wasn’t built in a day. That’s what I wrote on the first page of the journal I began to commemorate my struggles. Not in a day, not in a year, not even in a lifetime, was Rome built.
This I know.
And now I know the answer to my ultrasound, too. Am I convinced? No. But I’m a little relieved, and that’s something.
I will get there.
*Something occurred to me last week, funny enough, after I saw something in passing in the media… perhaps I’ve got some lead in me. You know, heavy metals? I doubt I’d have much lead-poisoning, but it’s possible. See, I’ve been eating daily for the last 2-3 years off of the dishes my folks bought in Mexico in ’79, and Mexico and China are famous for using leaded glazes. So, I thought “Oh, I wonder what the symptoms are.” Peeked. And hey, I have most of those symptoms in any given week. Really mildly, right, but they’re there.
So this morning I take a look at all the dishes — the 30-year-old dishes — and all the glazing’s flaking off, everything’s got a crack in it. I *love* these dishes, but clearly they’re well beyond safe at this point. I’ve apparently been eating probably-lead-glaze for quite a while now. It’s apparently tasty.
They’re on the table, awaiting discarding now. I need to figure out what one should do with potentially lead-unsafe dishes. Still, it’s kind of funny. Fuck, I love those dishes! So does Gayboy, he’ll be disheartened. I’ll get a blood test and then be done with this theory too. :)