1 Step Forward...

This Week's Loss: ???
Total Loss: ???

And unfortunately 2 steps back. I sit and write this post this morning instead of getting ready to go weigh in. I DESTROYED this week.

I was doing really well up until Tuesday evening. I didn't gorge at home services like usual and at like 5:30 still had 40 points. I went to the grocery store to buy the making for my soup for Wednesday night since it was my turn to host. I hadn't spoken with Patrick all day and while I was in the soup aisle trying to decipher which chicken bouillon powder I should buy (ummm...is there a difference?), Patrick call me and the only words that I hear before the call drops (thanks AT&T) are "We have a problem..." A problem?? What the hell does that mean?? Being the incredibly, calm rational person you all know and love me to be, I IMMEDIATELY jumped to the conclusion that Patrick was fired.

I abandon ship (or cart) in the soup aisle in front of the previously mentioned chicken bouillon (Ihad chosen Wyler's?) and ran outside to call him back. The problem turned out to be that the line from the sink into the dishwasher had frozen and popped the coupling, thereby flooding the kitchen. For several minutes I attempt to call my mother to borrow mops and buckets and on every attempt am greeted by a busy signal. For those of you unfamiliar with the words "busy signal", it means my parents are still not enough into 2011 to get call waiting. I try the funeral home phone number and my brother across the street answers. A start, but still not who I wanted. My mother finally gets of the phone with either her friend Pat or my sister-in-law (the only two people she really talks to during the week) and answers the phone. I swing by for a bucket and head home. My brother was already there saving the day with a shop vac. Patrick vacs up all the water, but that is only part of the mess. There's dust everywhere from the shop vac AND my two wonderful puppies had gotten into a trash bag. Everything that had been on the floor in the kitchen was on the counters and very wet. A package of toilet paper had landed in a cake. The trash barrel was in the sink. Ugh.

Sooooooo cooking was out for the night and out for Wednesday night, too. Dinner = cancelled. So the answer for Tuesday is takeout. Dominos? Not healthy, but I did go with the thin crust so it deducts a point per slice. Trying a bit right?

Wednesday during the day is fine. Then what could have turned out to be my personal nightmare began. I went to the doctor Wednesday afternoon because I haven't been feeling very top-notch lately. Neauseas, crampy, just gross. Not to mention, WICKED emotional. There legit had not been a day in the past week and a half that I had not burst out into tears at least once. MLK Day? I cried at seven TV shows. Seven. But I digress. So I had all that fun stuff done to me that a woman gets to have done at the doctor and 4 options came to light.

1- ectopic pregnancy, which would mean a D&C because an ectopic pregnancy can't be carried to term. In other words, not awesome.

2- ovarian cysts, which could be nothing but could also mean no babies. Ever. Depending on if it's a one time thing or a larger disease. Also, not awesome.

3- ovarian/uterine cancer, which would mean chemo, radiation and all those other fun treatments and again, maybe no babies. Getting even further away from awesome.

4- chlymidia/some other weird infection, which could mean thousands of different things and also might be indicitive of a larger problem. Awesome-totally gone out the window.

I left the doctor relatively composed until I called Patrick. I melted into an emotional puddle right around Ski Ward. Guess what- when awesome flew out the window so did my points. Dinner was a comfort food fest. My stomach paid the price for my soul to be soothed.

Thursday was a snow day. Sweet. All day to sit at home and dwell on the possible medical complications my body was currently undergoing. Lunch at Papa Ginos? Sounds good to me. Dinner at Longhorn? If my mind couldn't be calm, I was at least going to eat what I wanted and make my belly happy. At this point, my body didn't know which way was up. Was I sick because my uterus was revolting or was I sick because I was pounding back 3 weeks worth of junk food in a matter of 2 days or was I sick because of my body's tendency to react to stress and anxiety very somatically, usually with neausea. Hmmmm...I don't like to make anything easy on myself.

So I suffer through work Friday in intense pain and head to an appointment with an ob/gyn and got to had more fun lady things done and got the verdict: NOTHING. He thinks that I had a GI virus that was thrown into chaos by my "lady" cycle. Isn't being a girl wicked fun? So after I left that appointment not feeling doomed or failed, how do Patrick and I celebrate? Moe's of course. Dinner last night? The Boynton. When I fail, I fail completely.

So I made the decision to skip the weigh in this morning and save myself the stress. I know if I see that number on the scale, I will only get supremely down and punish myself. I need to regain my composure and move forward. I let my emotions get the better of me this week and let them make my food decisions. I have to let my head start doing the work for me again. Here goes nothing.