After all the imaging – several ultrasounds and an MRI, I know more about how well I am than I do with what is wrong with me. Specifically, I need to recognize and feel blessed that my bones and ligaments are in good shape, and now I know my veins are in great shape too.

My foot and leg specialist examined the MRI and told me that my bones were good; the diffused swelling was probably vascular. The vascular specialist did what most specialists do upon first meeting – they look at the problem area, and prescribe imaging. He said he felt he knew what it was. According to what he saw – reddish discoloration, swelling, etc, I had poor veins that were allowing too much blood to sit in my legs and this could be fixed with non-invasive procedures. I brought up my weight and that my primary doctor thought it could be the culprit and he told me that he could not conclude that my weight affected my leg and caused the issues. I was worried about what poor veins meant at the ripe age of 29.

Then, I got a call a week after imaging, and his answer was totally different. He said my detailed ultrasound showed that my veins were in great health. He assured me I got good genes and at the age of 29, I didn’t need to worry about my veins for a long time. Except, that meant I was ruling something else out and still had no answers. He then told me, go ahead and lose some weight because it could be the combination of a desk job and being obese.

I think those words were as detrimental as if he had told me it was a vein issue. While I am thankful that I have healthy veins, I know that if I needed a procedure done it would be quick and non-invasive. But what he told me? That is the scourge of my existence. The fact that I want to lose weight and haven’t lost much even with effort. It means that I’m finally fat to the point it’s causing extreme stress on my body and I have to do something ASAP. It means that on top of eating better, I need to be stricter and follow a fitness regimen. And I loathe the physical activity part more than watching what I eat.

You see, being fat, more specifically, morbidly obese, and being so most of your life, it’s not a 20 or even 50 pound goal. Every time I hit the gym, I’m working and stressing my body in a mass that is more than half what it ideally should weigh. I’m working on positivity, and on making this journey healthy because the other part of me just wants to use any means necessary. I can’t let that little voice overcome the big voice I’ve created that says I can positively change not desperately change.

I’d like to work out for 45 minutes to an hour at least three times a week, hopefully going up to four.

I’d like to pick 2 days of the week to work on meal planning and keeping on track food-wise. 

I’d like encouraging words, not threats, from people around me. Things like, “I believe in you, let me know how I can support you.” Not things like, “You know, if you don’t lose the weight you’re going to get worse” Or things like, “How come ______?”

Onward.