My extremely sterotypical mad prof has prescribed me a diabetic drug which should/could help me lose weight. The fact that I AM diabetic is incidental as they think I'm too thin to fit the criteria for it on the NHS. I bet I'm not actually...... Yep, totally not too thin. Anyway, I have to pay for it privately - the idea is to try it for a few months and then if it makes a difference, use that as ammunition with my GP. Not sure it will work since this is the practice that wouldn't give me antibiotics after I'd had sinusitis for 2 months and was weeping with the pain. They seem to get off on saying 'no'. But there's no point in worrying about that until I find out if it works.
One immediate flaw with this is that I have to, gulp, inject. Into my stomach (or thighs). I don't think they've come up with a needle long enough to penetrate the flab but I had my lesson today (no actual stomach was bared) and I start after a long weekend the weekend after next. On the basis that it can make you feel sick initially and I don't want to waste that time feeling sick.
And of course, my body's stubborn refusal to drop any weight.
Actually I have just gone to weigh myself for the first time in - oh, some time. I saw what she wrote in kilos on my form and in trying to work out my BMI (this is the criteria), I thought I must have seen it wrongly. Or worked it out wrongly. Or something where it was wrong. But it's not. Admittedly this is at the end of the day but I am a stone over my heaviest pre Lighter Life weight. I can't quite believe it. That's almost 5 stone heavier than my lightest weight, 2-3 stone heavier then when I got married and heavier than I've ever been. I'm so shocked and upset I'm actually shaking. If I'd eaten junk for the last year - and lots of it - I'd understand it. I haven't. My usual daily diet is yoghurt and fruit with 2tsp of nuts for breakfast, a salad for lunch, and soup or fish and veg for dinner. Fruit for snacking and a coffee a day. Where am I going wrong?
No wonder I can't climb stairs any more without gasping for breath. I guess the self-loathing will help me to jab the needle in.
The teeny-tiny silver lining is that she thought my BMI wasn't high enough: "I can see from looking at you". It's way, way high enough.