I went to my doctor for my annual physical last week. Except it wasn’t my regular doctor, who’s been on some kind of extended leave since last spring and won’t be back till mid-September. I actually had two people examining me: the nurse who used to just do the blood pressure check, and the substitute doctor. Strength in numbers, I suppose.
I’m not sure what exactly the nurse’s position is now. I asked her if she was a nurse-practitioner now, but all she said was that she was going to enter all my information into the computer, check my blood pressure, height and weight, and do the breast exam and the internal. Oh. Do we know each other well enough for that?
Anyway, it turns out that I have gained 3.5 kilos in the past year. Yes. That is almost 8 pounds. 10 pounds is a whole size. This would explain why my favourite shorts, my only pair of beige summer pants, my denim capris, my slinky electric blue dress no longer fit. I can’t even button up the damn dress any more!
Also, I am now shrinking. I always thought that I measured just over 5’4” (162 centimetres). I am now just over 5’3″ (160 centimetres). Has my bad posture finally caught up to me? Has gravity increased recently? Is this even supposed to happen?? I’m not a senior citizen yet, for heaven’s sake!
All depressed, I went home and immediately started back on Weight Watchers (the easy pinklea version: no meetings, just write down the points value of everything you eat, drink oceans of water, and pee pee pee constantly). I’m proud to say that in a week, I’ve lost 4 and a half pounds! I know at this point that it’s only water, but it’s a great start, and the rest of the weight should come off in another couple of weeks if I keep following the regime. And I will. I know how to lose weight (and gain it too, it seems).
But I have absolutely no idea what to do about my diminishing height.