I've been a bad, bad blogger. I've been neglecting this site with dedication.
I saw the doctor for my routine lady visit this week. It's funny how I feel like I see doctors all the blessed time, yet I was a YEAR late on this one. Looks like the chronic stuff just takes over and I forget to take care of myself in a reasonable manner.
I weighed in, and found I had lost almost 2 pounds since my visit with Dr. Rheumy in May. Which should have been great news. Ta da. But I was grumbly and sad because I have been so careful with my diet and I joined a gym a month ago. There has been sweating and lifting weights. Yoga. Lots of water.
The reward felt puny.
I know the steroids don't help in this arena. And I am absolutely sure that being overweight is not the worse thing in the world. (I had an after-school special eating disorder in high school. It was the 80s. Everyone was doing it. It didn't solve anything.) My world would not be brighter and better if the scale reflected a smaller number to me - I would just have more clothes to wear.
It's the effort that hurts. It's because I've been trying.
Oh well. It only proves that I am kicking Sjogren's butt with the meds now that I can whimper about weight gain. In March, being chubby was the least of my worries. I was consumed with pain management. I got what I wanted. I feel better.
So I will still keep working out; I will eat healthy foods. I need to.
And I will enjoy this sunny day, big butt or not.
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