Dreaming

I dreamed someone else was puking. Then I woke up and pulled a Linda Blair. I guess the dream was trying to gently break the news. 

Liver super pissed. Puking, puking, puking. Then I started peeing blood. 

But while they see the blood, my body is refusing to reveal anything else so... They sent out for a culture in case it's a UTI, but didn't give me any antibiotics. I went home and found some old antibiotics from a previous thing that got switched to another antibiotic, and started those so now it doesn't hurt when I pee and I don't have to pee every two minutes anymore. I'm still queasy, liver feels hard, and I'm really really dragging, but I'll take it. Partial improvement is better than nothing.

Anyway, so that's how modern medicine works when you're not an easy diagnosis. Also no one had any curiosity about the liver acting up. I'm a little hmmm that two disparate things decided to pull a Thelma and Louise, but oh well. It'll either get better or I'll end up in the ER explaining why I'm taking expired antibiotics and no one will know what to do with me there either.

And then I had a nutritionist appointment which was very 'you need carbs' and 'don't drink soda all day' with a side of 'you don't lose weight because you're not eating but also you need a calorie deficit to lose weight.'

This kind of all different directions at once and assumptions I'm making basic mistakes is a classic sign I'm outpacing their models and that it's going to suck to be me while working with them. 

(And to be fair to the nutritionist, they were pleasant enough. They weren't horrible, but they weren't helpful either.)

So let's talk about eating. I have basically eaten nothing the last several days. I've barely stayed hydrated. I'm at a serious calorie deficit assuming we believe calories in calories out actually functions in my body, which I have my doubts and some evidence it probably doesn't. Between that and the queasiness, I'm only eating exactly what I want to eat and what I'm pretty sure won't hurt me and I'm damn grateful to be able to eat anything at all. 

I'm so hungry, I'm pushing the envelope hard today. Toast with butter and jam. Ten tortilla chips and this glorious locally made cheese which is probably why I'm feeling a bit urp right now--that was risky. Blueberries. And for dinner, ice cream because I'm not willing to risk a real meal.

I have zero fucks right now about nutrition. Calories I'm pretty sure I won't puke up or that my liver won't flip out over are the priority. I'm in survival mode. My system still has very clear preferences and limits. Ice cream yes. Protein no. Cheese...we'll decide after the fact and probably not in your favor. The nausea is not playing.

Actually, I may still puke, but I'm so hungry right now, I don't care.

I'll go back to my nutritionist disapproved low carb habits once I'm feeling less hurly. 

That said, I eat pretty much perfectly outside of my current situation. The liver tumors won't let me overeat. I'm very controlled and disciplined. I have never eaten so little for so long in my life...I can't emphasize enough how much the tumors make all the rules. I care about nutrition. I grow my own damn asparagus and am in the process of growing my own green beans (I cut back on what I planted due to having covid all of May so it's not super varied) and will have my first harvest of different berries shortly. 

In fact, it got to the point where I'd starved for so long and didn't even drop a size, that I tried Ozempic to see if that would help with my weight since starvation by tumor wasn't really doing anything. 

Yes, my system is violating all laws of thermodynamics. For real. I should be hella skinny by now, but my physiology didn't read the textbooks so...

I lost a little bit with Ozempic and have been stalled for the last 8 months--hence the nutritionist because what if I'm accidentally guzzling coke by the gallon and don't know that's bad? (Y'all...I might be dumb about food.) Part of the problem is everyone is terrified to increase the dose because of the tumors--but of course a nutritionist will fix that, right? 

Honestly, I don't care what the tumors do. Grow a pair. Let 'er rip. I'm not trying to be pretty, I'm too old for that. Weight loss largely (ha!) doesn't change anything in my health. I am simply trying to make sure I get better care by losing weight.

I spent literal decades with these tumors festering being told my gross anatomy was abnormal but also you're just just fat. The fat bias needs to go and I can only (maybe) control myself (except the weight doesn't want to goooo).

God forbid I be too fat for a transplant if I should need one.

Okay, that's a complicated statement because I remain undecided about a transplant (if it ever comes up, which it may not but I'm a planner so I think ahead). That's just even more doctors and even more medications and even more infection fuckery. That is a hard sell, guys. 

But I at least want the option to decide for myself. I don't want the decision made for me as in my experience, I'm the only one who seems to care and synthesize the context of my individual situation with any degree of insight. 

And I figure I owe it to my kid to get them to adulthood without the trauma of me dying. Once they are launched, I am not so sure I'm going to care anymore. 

Sad, unfortunate, but true.