Foreign Body

Two days ago Chris and I were roaming through a store when I came upon a clearance rack with a sweater I thought would fit. Finding clothes here that fit me and look alright is a rarity, and winter clothes even more so, and so I picked it up. They had 3 sizes near my size so I figured I should try on what I thought was the right size, just in case the cut was a bit narrow in the chest.

Once in the dressing room I took off my sweater and t-shirt and turned to take the sweater off the hanger, and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Now, our house only has 2 mirrors, a tiny one big enough to see your face in in the bathroom, and a full length one that is in the "stuff" room that isn't easily gotten to, so I rarely see my whole body in the mirror.

As my eye caught my reflection I gasped, looked away, then looked back in a double take. I couldn't believe what I was seeing, it took my breath away for a moment. It was like I didn't even recognise the body that my head was attached to. This was not the body that I came to New Zealand with at all. Since being here I went through a phase where I gained over 50 lbs in the course of about 4 months, thanks in part to a lovely issue known as PCOS. As if gaining the weight wasn't enough, it also prevents you from getting it back off, at least, until you find a doctor willing to meet you halfway. I do my part. I eat well, cut back on grains, have an elliptical machine that I get on as often as I can (except for when I'm banned from it by the doctor because my arthritis is being a bitch), but in the end I can only do so much and when I can't find a doctor who will read the latest studies and work with me to get this thing under control, well, I'm fucked.

So I'm left with this...foreign body. It is. It's foreign. This is not me. I don't recognise it. I work so hard to nourish and care for my body and this is what I get? Why?

After regaining my breath I tried to smile at myself in the mirror, say "I love you, it's okay, we'll find help soon.", and pull the sweater over my head. It was a bit too small. While I used to have to buy clothes to fit my bust because it was the biggest part of my upper body, now I buy to fit the massive tire situated around a "beer belly" situated around my waist. It's not fair to have a beer belly when I don't drink beer.

I got dressed quickly, grabbed the next size up, and got out of the store. Don't get me wrong, I love me, but I feel like I'm living inside a foreign country, and I'm not talking about New Zealand.

I ran away from home!

After reading my last post I realised I forgot the "life-wise" part! *snort*

Life is not bad. Busy, random, too slow and WAY too fast all at the same time. My life is good all things considered.

I did run away from home last week, which turned into one entertaining trip. Well, to be more specific Chris and I BOTH ran away from Auckland, in hopes of enjoying the sunshine that decided to grace us with it's presence after the 2 weeks of gray hell. I guess it had been on vacation too. *wink*

We left the computer/internet at home and went to Coromandel....and stayed in Coromandel Town. Now I really should have known from the name that it might be one of those "exists just for tourists" towns, but I read about the history of the town and so figured it wouldn't be too bad, right?

Wrong! Granted, we got a good deal at the place we stayed, but the town? Can I just say that $27 for a main dish at an average place anywhere in NZ outside of Auckland is absolutely ridiculous. Seriously, they should rethink their prices. How do "locals" afford to eat there? There were a few cafes with a bit better prices, but still pretty much Auckland prices... The grocery store was a little 4Square with prices higher than what I pay here, but I expected that as well. After having an interesting dinner at the fish and chips shop that charged a price I'd have never paid for a chicken burger had I any other food choice, we ended up picking up brown rice, broccoli, and a lentil dhal at the 4Square to cook in our room for dinner, kicked back on the bed, and enjoyed the movie channel. I think that was the first time we've watched TV in months.

When we set out for Coromandel Town we didn't know exactly what to expect having never been there, but we did know we wanted to make a day trip of Wednesday to see the other side of the peninsula. We arrived Tuesday night and came back to Auckland on Thursday, so that really only gave us the one day to explore, plus, rain was in the forecast for Thursday night and Friday, not the best driving/exploring conditions, so that helped to keep our trip really short. Unfortunately, when we wet out on Wednesday to follow the road through the mountains, we ran into a problem--a "Road Closed" sign to be exact! After a quick moment consulting the map we saw there was one more route to the other side, a bit longer than the first, but still not too bad. So we turned around and sought out the other road over the mountains. Just when we thought it would be smooth sailing we ran into a big construction crew that was stopping traffic because one side of the road was closed, so the other side (one lane mind you) had to be used for traffic in both directions (something I've noticed in NZ a lot). Seeing the long line of traffic waiting to be let through and not knowing how long the construction would last for, I looked at Chris and said "I think this is a sign we're meant to stay at the motel and chill for the day. There will be no going over the mountains!" And that's how we ended up in our room for the afternoon/evening.

In the end nothing went to plan, and I got annoyed, but then reminded myself that we were being spontaneous, plans often never go by the book, and that's okay, there's no one here to yell at me for it. Chris and I both help each other laugh it off. It's good. Living with Chris helps me feel less like I have to obsess and manage every little thing all the time. Old habits die hard, but they are dying, and I feel a little less weighed down by the day. I have to remember my "wabi-sabi" mantra!

But something tells me this is just a shadow of things to come if we plan a trip to the South Island. Not to mention Chris says the roads are even scarier down there, and I thought that driving on sea and mountain roads without a foot of road for a shoulder was scary enough!

I'm a bad, bad blogger...

Yes, I am. I'm neglectful of my blog. In my defense though, I think of things to post here all the time, I just never actually get it typed! Sad excuse, I know...

Really, this blog is me trying to keep track of all the odd things I get up to health-wise and life-wise. So, how about an update?

Health-wise: Doctors suck. Insurance companies suck more. After deliberating over the "pay out of pocket to play Russian Roulette with the Endocrinologists listed in the phone book" I've decided maybe my best bet is to save my money and go see the "Holy Grail" of doctors when I get back to the US. Granted, that'll be a while from now, but hey, if the medical community as a whole can ignore my problems and keep playing pass the buck, I suppose I can keep coping with it on my own for a little while longer and save myself the humiliation, frustration, and about $360 per doctor's visit! *big grin*

So, I've decided to monitor my blood sugars at home, especially post meal. I know my fasting glucose is never in the "bad" range, but the more reading I've done, the more I've learned that the current "medical guidelines" are missing tons of women with diabetes because while their fasting glucose is normal, their post meal glucose levels are too high, so damage is already being done to their body and they don't know it. We really have something wrong in our medical system when something like 50% of people diagnosed with diabetes will be diagnosed with a diabetic neuropathy at the same time they get the big "D" diagnosis. That means they've had it for years and it's been slowly destroying their body while their doctors have being saying all is well.

I refuse to be that woman. PCOS and it's lovely weight gain puts me at a high risk, family history at an even higher risk, and a previous Glucose Tolerance Test that had me sitting on the edge of "prediabetes" means that odds are with no treatment I'll be diabetic within the next 6-10 years. Except, we don't know how long I've been this way, and if I've had these things since I was 19-20 (which is what I'm quite sure of) at 26 I'm getting rather close to that 10 year mark. Too close for comfort. Now, the elliptical machine in my living room paired with my already healthy eating habits carb and portion wise are fighting back that risk, but with my hormonal profile the way it is nothing is going to help this as much as the medical treatment I need that everyone is too busy twiddling their thumbs to provide.

I should clarify that I'm not bitter, just tired, and frustrated. Both for myself, and others I know of who are getting shafted by the medical system. In the last month I've heard of a friend whose 2 yr old baby died due to gross medical negligence, and another friend whose uncle was diagnosed with terminal cancer, thanks to a doctor who didn't take anything seriously and let his illness to get much worse without proper treatment.

I'm not dead, or dying (at least not today, far as I know) so I think I have an obligation to throw a fit for those that can't anymore. Something has to change. I don't know how I'll change it, but I'll figure something out.