Doctor, It Hurts When I Do This

I'm not exactly looking forward to weigh-in tomorrow, and in fact I've been sitting here making excuses not to go. I'm not entirely well. I'm in a fair amount of pain. It's election day. And I'm sure I could come up with a couple more if I tried harder. But really I don't want to go because I haven't been eating very well this week. I haven't recorded anything in two days. And because I'm not feeling well, I've mainly been doing two things--laying around feeling half-miserable, and raiding the fridge and the pantry looking for food to make me feel better.

That doesn't mean I've eaten a whole pizza or a bucket of fried chicken or anything like that, but I've been doing a lot of snacking, plus we ended up eating MickeyD's for dinner tonight. Not really the thing you want to do before stepping on the scales at 8 o'clock the next morning.

On a positive note, when I went to the doctor on Thursday, he had his nurse take my blood pressure, pulse, height and weight. My blood pressure was slightly above normal (130 over 80), but not enough to be classified as hypertensive. As usual, that got a bit of a surprised reaction, because everybody assumes that because I'm fat, I'm going to have high blood pressure. But I don't. My resting pulse rate was 58, which is slightly below normal, which also surprised the nurse a little bit. My weight, according to their scales, was 154 or something. I didn't really pay much attention because I was just so happy that I could stand on their scales and get a reading without maxing the thing out.

I don't think I'll ever forget the first time, several years ago, that I got on the doctor's scales and discovered that I was too heavy to get a reading. The thing is, at the time I was around 160 (although I had absolutely no idea). That shock and humiliation would motivate me to lose over 30 kg, and yet within a few years, I'd put it all back on, plus more, top out at over 195kg, and join Weight Watchers because it was the cheapest way to get access to a set of scales that could weigh me.

Oh well. Skipping my meeting tomorrow won't change my weight, and it won't change the fact that I haven't eaten very well this week. All it'll do is mean I go another week without knowing my number. And it'll put an end to my 4-week attendance streak. And I still won't feel well, and my neck will still hurt, and I'll still have to get dressed, go out in that cold-ass weather and vote.