The weight loss started after my diagnosis in March, but not intentionally. At first, it was just pure and utter anxiety — what was going to happen, what was the treatment, who were the doctors, when was everything happening, and who would I be when it was all over?
So every time a friend mentioned how good I looked or how much weight I’d lost, it was… complicated. One side of my brain was like 💅🏻. But the rest of my head was just screaming, “You’re losing weight because you’re completely and utterly overwhelmed!… FROM CANCER!”
The real turning point came in June when I met with my surgeon. Before leaving the room, he glanced at my belly and said, “You may want to lose some weight if you can.” For whatever reason, that was all the fuel I needed to turn this around.
Now, I’m down over 62 lbs since the beginning of the year. I’ve basically become a gym rat, hitting the elliptical 6 or 7 days a week and working on strength with a trainer. My blood pressure is good, my cholesterol is good, and my mood is good. It’s almost like all that advice about being healthy actually works. Crazy.
The other day, someone asked me what brand of Ozempic I’m on. I won’t lie, that felt amazing (despite them being a shady bitch for asking).
Let’s be clear: I’m not dying. But if you’re a redneck like me, you can’t help but have Tim McGraw’s “Live Like You Were Dying” stuck in your head on repeat. So, I went skyyyyyyy diving. I’m probably not going to make it to the Rocky Mountains or ride a bull, but I am making the most of the time I have before surgery.
I can’t wait to keep living like I was dying long after I recover.
The journey continues,
-rp