I was unsure of whether I would be able to walk again, let alone feed, bathe, or clothe myself. That’s right, I recently had a sore, swollen knee. Spare me your pity, but monetary contributions are always welcome. It was only through sheer will, grit, determination, and my wife’s nagging that I found I could walk again, if you can call what I do walking. And it was my dog, yes, my dog, that got me to use my treadmill again.
It’s a great treadmill that was sitting idle while I writhed in pain as I ate ice cream and my family urged me to “get off my fat ass and do something for God’s sake” or some encouraging words to that effect. Even the treadmill taunted me regarding my potentially burgeoning weight without activity.
But it wasn’t my family’s “encouragement” that got me to use the treadmill again. It was my faithful dog and her chunky vomit that got me to use the treadmill again. I’ll explain.
A few posts back, I mentioned that I needed to make a decision between walking with a cane and training for a 5K race. I decided on the 5K race. I soon came to regret that decision this past Saturday.
I injured my right knee while walking the dog on Saturday. Then I further injured it while walking through the store to purchase a knee brace. Why would I need a knee brace? So I could go on a planned run Saturday afternoon which went well with minimal pain. The brace worked! And then my knee inflated like Trump’s ego at one of his rallies.
This is not my knee, but this pic is highly representative of what mine looked like.
The kneecap is under there somewhere. So, I rested and iced and expected it to get better quickly. Nope. There was no way I could exercise and do my deep knee bends.
So I bit the bullet and went to see an orthopedist specializing in sports injuries which is a stretch. That’s like Trump going to see a psychiatrist specializing in geniuses.
We jointly decided on a treatment protocol and this is what she pulled from my knee.
I was at an industry trade show yesterday and got in well more than the recommended 10,000 steps in one day.
In addition, I really didn’t eat much yesterday. I was busy. And yet, when I stepped on the scale this morning, I had gained weight. I’m not sure I want to live in a world where I gain weight after walking over 5 miles. I want to live in a world where I can eat a spaghetti sundae after walking 5 miles and lose weight.
Almost forgot, with chocolate syrup on top.
I have been stuck at my normal winter weight now for weeks since losing my 5 lbs of excess winter weight. I still want to drop an additional 5 lbs of normal winter weight to get down to the weight where I would feel I am 10 lbs overweight which is 10 lbs over what I feel would be a good weight for me, although still a bit heavy. Make sense? If it does, read on, take your meds, and consult a mental health professional.
I recently stumbled on what may be the key to more weight loss.
I was really moving in a positive direction with losing my excess winter weight. Now I could focus on losing my normal winter weight. That is, until my wife declared that she was ordering this …
Except, she wasn’t just ordering 3 deep dish slices of deliciosity. She ordered a full deep dish pie and also ordered a thin crust. Oh, and a huge salad. We do have a large family. All that food was problem enough for my dieting, but there was a larger problem. No, not my waistline. That was a low blow of you to think that. The problem was …
When I got the news that the spot on my leg was cancerous, I was given a choice: more surgery or burning the cancer away with a cream. Since I was familiar with burning parts off my body, I chose the cream. That proved to be an uncomfortable decision.
I went to the pharmacy to get the cream. My cream was ready. I was ready. But the law states that the pharmacist must speak to anyone with a new prescription. The pharmacist wasn’t ready. I could have walked away from the counter and shopped in the store. I’m glad I didn’t. I peeked at the paperwork with the cream. I couldn’t believe when I read this …
I’m burning off other parts of my body, too. And again, nobody cares. In fact, I just saw my dermatologist for my six month check-up, and when I told her about burning off my head and body bits, she gave me this …
I see her every six months for my cancer screening after she found and removed melanoma (skin cancer) from my back. At this point, I want to make it clear that this cancer survivor heartily welcomes, encourages, and appreciates your pity “Likes.” Go ahead, better click “Like” now before I die.
I have been cancer-free for almost five years now, and I do have a wicked-cool scar on my back. Although my family encourages me to NEVER remove my shirt, I do as often as possible to show-off the scar. My story for strangers sometimes strays from the truth of being a cancer survivor to being a kidney donor. I like to mix it up.
I was anxious to see my dermatologist since I was concerned about a few new spots on my back. I wanted to know if they were cancerous, or just seborrheic keratoses. That’s right, I also suffer from Seborrheic Keratosis. Sigh! Here’s a look …
That’s not so bad, right? Take a closer look … if you dare.