Yesterday I received a package in the mail. A sweater I’d ordered. In a flurry of excitement, I tried it on and a funny thing happened.
It was too big. I was swimming in it.
This is a brand I know and love. It should have fit. And then the thought hit me: I had to send it back and get the next size down. Because… weight.
I’ve lost 50 pounds since January. It’s official. The scale just done said so.
But I needed the scale and a way too big sweater to alert me to this milestone. I don’t see it in the mirror.
Just to be clear, I knew I was losing weight. A girl can tell when her pants and coats get baggy, even without her husband telling her she might take off like a kite with the next stiff breeze. I even hop on a scale here and there. My doctor actually danced a jig—I’m not kidding—when she saw my last weigh-in.
So please don’t be concerned for my health. I’m healthy. It’s just that I’ve completely changed what I eat since being diagnosed with diabetes. Apparently the stress of beating cancer, two surgeries, and my ridiculously complicated healing ordeal pushed my borderline blood sugars over the edge. I needed to get my metabolism back into line by changing my diet.
That’s why the weight is flying off. I take a low dose of a common diabetes medication that helps my liver get rid of excess blood sugar differently than it used to, meaning my body has far less sugar available to turn into fat. In addition, though, I’m really cutting back on carbs. No more cookies, cakes, chips, candy bars, or rice and potatoes. Lots of meat, dairy, and veggies.