Ring a ding ding

I am saying this very cautiously and quietly but I think I can see a difference.  Not exactly see one – I don’t look any different and my clothes aren’t fitting any differently but I’d been having real problems with my engagement ring.  I’d found it increasingly difficult to get it on or off – to the extent I’d caused sores and blisters on my finger from trying to force it on or yank it off.  My finger had got so bad that I decided just to leave my engagement ring on.  Well, on Monday I noticed it was flopping about a bit and very cautiously tried to wiggle it – and it came off!
 
I suspected this was a one-off so tried not to get too excited but it’s come off (and indeed back on) every day since – if not as smoothly as Monday.  I often wiggle it during the day, convinced that my finger will have swollen back up.  Of course, if I keep fiddling with it it will become a self-fulfilling prophesy!
 
It’s a teeny tiny thing but for me at least and at last it feels like some sort of progress.  Usually I’m either standing stock still (in terms of progress, keep with the analogy here) or being pulled backwards further into the land of chub.   

There’s no real difference in what I’m doing except that I have stopped having diet drinks – it can’t be that straightforward though I know.  I’ll know if I continue to make progress if I can actually wear all my lingerie again without physical pain after an hour and wheals in the side of my boobs that turn into bruises and leave permanent red-puple marks.  That would be a happy day indeed.