Trust Your Gut: Tish’s Story; Part 79 | Medical Study Progress Report

Trust Your Gut: Tish’s Story; Part 79 | Medical Study Progress Report

In Trust Your Gut: Tish’s Story; Part 79 | Medical Study Progress Report I am going to review how the first month of the medical study went. If you missed it, you can find it here. I did the testing for the study in January. The study started 4 weeks ago. I have had some things happen which I will write about, but please understand, I am also participating with the blessings of my doctor. It wasn’t required, but my doctor is aware of it, and yesterday, she told me how proud she was of me for taking this step. She also said that she wished more people would do more to be proactive in their own health care.

Yes, you read that correctly. I saw my doctor yesterday.

When you start any new physical activity, it is always the right thing to do. I saw her before I started, and I saw her again yesterday to discuss something that happened this past week. Before I get into this, I want to review my thoughts on the whole month. I will get back to the reason for the doctor’s appointment and the result of it in a bit.

I agree with her statements. It is a lot for me to just show up. Let’s explore this in more detail.

To understand how hard this is for me, you need to know that I weigh over 300 lbs. 318.9 as of this morning if you want to get specific. I have not seen a huge weight loss in one month of the study. This is not the most encouraging thing to think about at the moment, but I KNOW I NEED TO DO THIS. If I keep showing up, I might just save my own life.

There is no payment for this study.

It is completely voluntary. They are measuring the effects on people with type 2 diabetes and pre-diabetes (which if we are being honest, doesn’t exist) who exercise. They are checking my body muscle and fat density, taking oxygen measurements, and my blood sugars. The study will compare the H1AC (the 3-month average) blood sugar levels while it is happening. I signed up for 7 months. What was I thinking?

I know it will help me with my own health issues. However, if you have been reading these blogs all along, you know that I have issues with showing up for myself and have been wavering since I stopped going to Zumba class twice a week. It is a decision I made for my own reasons, and I love Zumba. I have tried it at home a bit this year, and I will continue whenever that mythical energy is here to stay. I have seen improvements in my energy levels, but they aren’t consistent, yet.

No, really, what was I thinking?

I was thinking that I need to move on purpose this year. I needed a reason to do something. Some days I feel strong, and others I can barely manage to keep the heart rate up to where they need it to be for the study.

They make us wear heart monitors every day. It can pinpoint if something happens, and most of the time they tell me I need to pick it up a bit. Which sucks. I did sign up for it, and I am doing my best to show up and do what they need me to do. It is not a leisurely stroll on the treadmill I am taking.

In the first week, I had to walk for 80 minutes.

We broke it down to 20 minutes a day for 4 days. I got to have Wednesday off, as a rest day. Did I ever need that rest day! I was so happy to be able to sleep in. Being unemployed for over a year has affected my sleeping habits, I had been in the pattern of staying up too late and sleeping in every morning. I am not excited about being on a treadmill at 8 am 4 or 5 days a week, but I am still showing up.

The schedule is flexible, so if I should happen to get a job, they will accommodate a different schedule if I need it. I picked 8 am so that I would be able to drive my husband to work, and then hit the treadmill, on weeks when he needs the car. He shares driving with a co-worker, so every 2 weeks he drives, and if I want the car, I have to be in the car to take it from his work and pick them up after work.

The one issue I had in the first week was sore calves. Did they ever express their unhappiness out loud to me in that first week. The first day was the worst for the calves. I wear compression stockings, and they help improve circulation in my calves. They did not like the change in my routine, at all. I kept going, and I got through the first week okay.

Setting My Own Goals

In week 2, I walked for 100 minutes, so the daily minutes increased to 25 minutes a day. I still had Wednesday off, and I started testing my body to see what worked to get my heart rate up. I also took the time to create a list on Spotify, called Treadmill Tunes. It is great on shuffle, and today I almost laughed out loud when this played in my ears…Mustard! There are 311 songs on that list… I have a hard time narrowing it down, okay? I haven’t heard all of the songs in a month. Variety helps me to stay motivated and change my pace to, “Bump it up!” as they keep telling me when my heart rate is too low for their study.

Sometimes I skip through a few songs to find the beat I need for that moment, but shuffle usually does a good job.

By the start of week 3, my calves weren’t the issue I had on my mind. My nerve pain in my right thigh sometimes kicks in. It is related to my hip flexors, and I have had this issue for years. All I can do is stretch it and work through the pain. I know it won’t last forever, and I have to push through it. By the end of week 2, I was using my Zumba stretches after walking on the treadmill, to make sure I didn’t get sore after going home.

My goals are to increase the intensity when I can, and keep the heart rate up high enough so I am not having to bump it up every day. I am working on this; I have good days and bad days.

There was a new concern in week 3.

I performed a very entertaining Bambi on Ice routine, where I slipped but managed to recover and stay on my feet. My hip flexor muscles on the left side were pulled as a result, and I was very concerned about how it would affect my time on the treadmill. I take painkillers when it is sore, and try to rest. It is worse after sitting in my computer chair for long amounts of time. It doesn’t hurt on the treadmill, which I was a relief.

Week 3 time increased to 120 minutes. I was walking for 30 minutes, four days a week. Dealing with the issues above, and starting to challenge myself with increasing the incline for longer times every day. I play with the speed, as I move with my whole body for some songs, and for parts of songs on a lower speed so I can get my groove on without face-planting.

It hasn’t happened yet but on a treadmill, the fear is real.

On Friday, last week, I noticed that my left knee was trying to bend the wrong way. I pay attention to my body because I need to know how to manage all the curveballs it throws at me. I checked with a friend who works in the fitness industry, and she advised me to take things easy on the weekend, which I was already planning to do; and to pay attention to what was happening. Later that day I felt like my hip was going to go out, and my knee did its funky thing shortly after this. I was cautious all weekend and rested as much as I could.

As the weekend progressed, week 4 was approaching.

I worried about week 4. This past week added 30 minutes to my walk time, which means I am now walking for 30 minutes, 5 days a week, for a total of 150 minutes a week. The good news is, there are no more time increases for me to worry about. The difficulty comes when I am needing to bump it up.

On Monday, I paid close attention to my knee, and my hip, both on the left side. The right side has eased off, and I don’t have the nerve pain every day, or for very long when it happens, now. I realized that my left knee is over-compensating for the hip muscles. This means I was able to correct it before things got worse, and I am feeling stronger by the end of week 4.

I started wearing my knee brace to walk, to support the knee, and it is helping. I only wear it on the treadmill, and I think just even knowing I have it on helps a lot. Monday and Tuesday were tough.

For me, it is all a head game.

I need to talk myself through it every day. Getting up, showing up, pushing through and relaxing when they tell me I can cool down. It’s my favourite part, actually, because I am done for the day. Whatever gets me through it.

I watch the timer. I watch the heart rate. It can be affected by the other people in the room, so I can’t trust the heart rate, but it gives me a general idea if I am working hard enough or not, most of the time. I tell myself, only so many more minutes to cool down, or I had the incline to 3.0 for a whole minute longer than I did yesterday. Woo-hoo! I have to be my own cheerleader, constantly.

On Wednesday, I fell apart.

I pushed real hard on Wednesday. Keeping the incline at 3.0 as long as I could and held it at 2.5 for another record-beating time. I was feeling like I was going to be able to keep pushing for week 4.

And then, it happened. My left hip made a twinge. This one little smidge of pain unravelled me.

I started to panic. I thought I would have to quit the study. My biggest fear is injuring myself and having to quit. If this happens, I would be letting myself down. I faltered and was told to bump it up.

When I bump it up, I can also bump it down when I arrive at the correct heart rate, as long as it doesn’t drop. I play with the speed and the incline while I am working out, as needed. I bumped it way down after I got to where I needed, and the panic running through my veins kept the heart rate high enough to not have to increase it any further at that moment.

Exercise-Induced Asthma is something I have been diagnosed with.

I have carried a Ventolin puffer around with me for years. I have wheezed when I push myself, and to allow me to complete the walks every day without needing to stop, I decided to take 2 puffs, preventatively before getting on the treadmill in the first week. It is helping me to breathe better while working out.

Wednesday was no different, I took 2 puffs before getting on the treadmill. Due to scheduling conflicts, it was a 4 pm walk that afternoon. I had coffee in my system when normally I just have water and my protein shake before the workout. My protein shake is made by mixing a scoop of chocolate protein powder into my unsweetened cashew with vanilla milk. I drink it before I leave the house if I am just driving myself, or in the car if Roy is driving himself to work.

The time of day was off, and my mental game was off. I had a complete panic attack by the time I stepped off the treadmill. What made it worse was I COULD NOT BREATHE! I went to the chair to rest, like I always do, and found my puffer.

Usually, I will sit after the walk and drink my water, do my stretches and head home.

On Wednesday, I had to get into my head and play hardball. It was very hard to talk myself down from the panic attack. It was so scary; I thought they would need to call 911 and rush me to the hospital. Not for the panic attack, but because I could not catch my breath.

When I took the puffer, it was just like you see others do with bad asthma. Inhaling the puff was loud, and it was hard to hold my breath while holding the medicine in my lungs. Breathe it in, count for 10, exhale. I had to do this twice, and all the while, I could not breathe.

Once I got the puffer into me, I worked on calming myself down. It took about 45 minutes before I felt good enough to go home. I did not stretch, and I forgot my hoodie. I was not feeling like myself at all, and when I change a routine, I am more likely to forget things.

Thursday morning, I talked about what happened with the students who are recording the data from the study. I was a little upset, still, and it helped to talk about it. I made an appointment to see my doctor as soon as I got home.

One good thing about a blizzard is that you can get a cancellation appointment easily.

The doctor’s office is not far from where I live, so I went to see her. She is sending me for tests on my lungs but agrees with me that the main issue was the panic attack. Fast forward to Friday.

I did it for a month, successfully! I am proud of myself. Today, I realized at about 8 minutes in that I forgot to take the puffer. It was okay, although it was a little harder for me to keep my heart rate up today. It does make a difference, and it does help, but I can do it without the puffer. I will have to skip it on the day of the appointment, and now I know what to expect.


Trust Your Gut: Tish’s Story; Part 13

Trust Your Gut: Tish’s Story; Part 13


Trust Your Gut is a series of stories about real people with weight issues, and complications arising from those issues.  It will explain what the person is facing, what their options are, what they have decided to do to take action, and why they chose the path they are on.  Each person’s story will be based on truth, so it won’t all be happy, but it will be real.  The goal of this series is to get people talking about options that are available for people who have weight issues, on either end of the scale.  If you would like to contribute to this series, there is a contact form linked on my Home page for this blog.  I know there are people out there that want to help people like them; as I do.


The names here may or may not reflect the person’s real name.  If someone wants to remain unknown, we will choose a different name for that person’s story.  The goal is to help people, and anonymity is a valid personal choice for contributors.  I will use a person’s name only if they give permission to do so.

This week I am pleased to share another of my own stories.

Here is  Trust Your Gut: Tish’s Story; Part 13

I am retaining water.  The scale is climbing.  I am still fighting a sinus infection and on antibiotics.  I am not scared to eat this week (I see the results of that on the scale) because my insulin and my body have started working together again.  That being said, I still do not feel well.  I am getting my sugars back under control, which is a good sign.  I am still experiencing sinus pain and pressure, my face is still puffy, and the headache is still bouncing around with an aura or two just to keep things interesting.

Where am I headed with my story this week?  Back to the doctor.  My sugars were slipping out of control for a while now, and I was avoiding a trip to the doctor because I thought I was doing something wrong.  I was not eating the healthiest choices and was blaming myself for the sugars being high.

People talk about that little voice in your head.  The negative one.  The one that whispers so quietly you aren’t even really sure if it is in there, but it is.  It’s the one that says my sugars are high because I am failing at my diet and the doctor isn’t going to want to help me anymore because I am not doing my part to take care of myself.  It is whispering that it is OK to try that ice cream because it is a new flavour and once you try it, you won’t wonder about it anymore.  Don’t get me wrong, treats are OK, but they aren’t meant to be an everyday thing in the life of a person with type 2 diabetes.  If I didn’t give in a little once in a while, I would give up and stop caring altogether, and that is not the path I want to walk on.

Another little voice is nagging in the back of my head, telling me that there might be something REALLY wrong.  Like when my knee was infected and my life had to go on pause in order to fight that infection and get better.  My knee still hurts, a little, from time to time.  It is not a muscle pain from any exercise related injury.  It still feels like jello sometimes.  You want to know the scariest part about that whole experience?  They still don’t know why or how it became infected in the first place.

I did what the doctors said.  I stayed as still as possible.  I got better.  I wore bandages for two months on my calves to reduce the fluid in them so I could be fitted for compression stockings.  They work really well because I force myself to exercise.  I have a job where I need to sit for most of my day.  I listen to music in my down time, and I dance in my chair.  I have a stool at my desk to elevate my feet to keep the fluids from pooling in my calves.  I put up my feet and bounce in my chair as much as I can.  Sitting still in a chair all day is not good for anyone.  So I move around to keep the blood pumping, and the music does keep me in a decent mood at work.

I have missed Zumba a lot the last few weeks.  With a migraine, I didn’t go.  With the sinus infection, I didn’t go.  I have decided that I need to revisit the doctor I saw last week.  I am on day 8 of the antibiotics.  Day 10 is on a Friday.  The doctor is only at the clinic Monday to Friday.  Saturday is not a day I want to spend waiting to see a doctor.      I am not getting better fast enough.  I need more help.

When you have issues with weight, it is easier to live in denial about the state of your health than to go to the doctor about it.  It is a vicious cycle.  Eat sleep avoid living and just exist.  If you are morbidly obese like I am (I am fighting for the day I can stop having to use that description for my weight) then it is just that.  It is so much easier to not care and eat whatever you want and be miserable on the inside, faking the happy person you appear to be on the outside.

Because it is all a huge cover up.  Acting.  Pretending everything is OK.  It’s not.  Anybody that has issues with their weight like I do is not happy.  Not truly.  And if you are listening to that little voice and believing it when it says that the junk food will make you happy, you are letting that little voice in your head lie to you.  And you are falling for it every time you listen.

If you are like me, there are discussions that happen with more than one voice in your head at the same time. (That will be a good thing when I am hearing the characters from my book  talk in my head when I write).  I spend more time talking myself out of things than I do talking myself into them.  Because it is easier to do the thing that is not the best choice most of the time.  Easier does not mean better.  If you want something, you have to work for it.  It is easy to be fat.  It is hard work to be healthy.

And then the littlest voice of all whispers that I will still need surgery when I lose the weight because I will have flaps of skin left hanging around.  It is a fight I have been having inside of my head for years.  That one little voice has been working against my wishes to be a healthier person.  It is so quiet, and then it sneaks in and gets a little pushier and louder and then I realize I went off plan again.  I tell myself that I won’t feel guilty about it, but I have layers and layers of guilt protecting my body from the healthier person that I could be.

I have also had a former doctor treat me like a hypochondriac.  I stopped wanting to go to the doctor because he wasn’t listening to me, or taking anything I was telling him seriously.  When he moved away I was lucky that my next doctor was one of the good ones.  He is an advocate for people that try to improve their health, and he was supporting me in my efforts to become a healthier person.

Last month a letter came in the mail.  My current doctor is moving away too.  I am afraid that the next doctor will be another bad one.  So scared that I have been avoiding making an appointment to go, and avoiding my regular blood work as I know the numbers are not going to be good.  Not at all.  I am secretly terrified of what is going to happen when I get another doctor.  That is not how I want to live my life.

So, I am going to the clinic in the morning before work tomorrow.  Not where my new doctor will be, but to the one in the mall where I work.  He diagnosed the sinus infection, and he saw me a little more than a week ago.  I need to feel like trying again.  So I am going to ask for more help.  Because what I am doing now isn’t working, and it is time to try something different.  I want to be better.  I want to get back to living my life, not just merely surviving it.  It is hard to go back to the doctor because I am scared that I will be told to give the antibiotics more time.  Or that he will prescribe the same ones for a longer time.  That is a part of the reason the other doctor thought I was a hypochondriac.  He thought everything that was wrong with me was because of my weight.  He made me doubt myself, and that is why I am having such a hard time with all of this.

My gut tells me that the antibiotics aren’t working.  Tomorrow I will let the doctor know what I think, and I hope that he will help me find another way to feel better.  I hope that a week from now I am back to prep cooking, and Zumba, and feeling like trying to be that healthier person I want to become, again.

Trust Your Gut.