I have no qualms with sharing my story.
I have severe asthma and about a year ago, my child had Strep B. she was so kind as to share it with me. I later found out that Strep B in adults quickly turns into streptococcus pneumoniae. I ended up with a cocktail of issues such as carbon dioxide poisoning due to blockages in my lungs, a viral infection, and later, a fungal infection while in the hospital. I had an O2 saturation of 42, which I later learned should have killed me. In fact, the morgue often times sees corpses come in with higher O2 sats. I have since been diagnosed with ARDS. I was one of the lucky ones, the death rate is fairly high. While the diagnosis is "short term" the healing process can take upwards of 5 years. If by that time I have not reached full recovery, they will likely diagnose me with something else, since ARDS is an acute condition only.
That is why I still need the O2 tank. I am still in the recovery phase. I go weeks and weeks where I am fine, but then I have weeks like the beginning of July, where the humidity was too high. I went into an asthma attack and has "castings" get stuck in my bronchial tubes, which cause my O2 saturation to drop. When ever it drops to below 90, I have to take predisone, who knows how much abuterol, and stay hooked up to the O2 until my oxygen reaches at least 95.
I don't fault my doctors for wanting me to file disability. When I was released from the hospital last, I could not walk five feet without passing out. The majority of people who survive ARDS end up with permanent mental or physical damage. A prime example is my lungs, primarily my left lung. The entire upper lobe is none functioning. In their experience, people who have such a significant illness usually have no choice but to file disability. I refused. I was only 29. I was NOT going to spend the rest of my life on an O2 tank nor was I going to risk having my 3 year old find me on the floor again nearly dead. The child still has nightmares about me going to sleep.
I changed everything about the way I was. My child and husband where forced to change with me. I removed all junk out of my house and made my husband aware that I needed his help and this was the best help he could provide for me. If him or the girl craved junk, if they could kindly go out and get it but not bring it home...and not invite me along. So far, it has worked. I also removed all sugary items from my house, cereals were replaced with high fiber and high protein types, such as Kashi or Special K. All frozen dinners removed and replaced with bags upon bags of veggies. I learned something, I CAN like veggies...even zucchini. In fact, I LOVE zucchini...makes a WONDERFUL "spiced apple" and is my new guilty pleasure when I am craving junk. All breads became whole wheat and high fiber. All meats became lean and 90% chicken, turkey, or pork. I started off slow...the same meals EVERY DAY because I couldn't figure out how to make a variety that was healthy. Now, I can make so many meals, it isn't even funny. And every last one of them can be eaten by the family, and usually, they can't tell they are healthy meals.
I weigh and measure everything, keeping my BMR 1000 below maintenance levels. I find it surprising that I often times and finding myself not eating enough calories. I used to think I was eating healthy...then I found out what a portion size was. I was over eating, and making myself miserable without realizing it. Once I stopped doing that, my gut felt better and surprisingly, I was never really hungry.
Next came the exercise. I could not even walk down my stairs, much less up them. I couldn't get to my car. I couldn't even make it from my bed to the couch. I want to point out that I came home towards the end of August. It was February before I could walk 100 feet without passing out. I would add a little bit more each day. When I started running the beginning of this summer, I never thought I would be able to do it. Maybe that is why I love it...because I can do it. I dunno. I thought I was going to die that first time. And I only ran 5 minutes. For 1 minute at a time. And I didn't even make 1/2 a mile. It was slow and it was painful. Today, I average 4-5 mph. Still slow, but not any where near as slow as it once was.
I gladly tell my husband my weight now...but when I started, no way in **** would I post it where he could easily see it. In fact, even though I tell him, I don't want him to see it.
I found tools like Start Your Diet and My Fitness Pal to be really helpful in keeping me on track. I also have found this forum among many others to help keep me accountable. I join challenges, often. I might not win, but it is nice seeing where I compare to others, and where my issues lie. I force myself to log in daily, even if I don't post, so I can see how everyone is doing and let them know how I am doing. I am 100% accountable. I have to be. Because no one else will do it for me. I am ashamed when I gain....which is often given the fact I take predisone a lot. But I see those losses. And I refuse to let my gains be the end result.
I KNOW you can do it. You just have to believe in yourself first
You need to tell your hubby that despite his good intentions, he's not your dad and he needs to not act like your dad. I'd rebel too if I "had" to post my weight for my hubby. You need to lose weight for you and you alone, and if posting your weight is something you want to do, then join a challenge in "Chicks Up for Challenge" here (under Support Groups) and we'll help keep you accountable while at the same time you can help us stay accountable. There's no pressure that way. We just support each other here. You are not a fat***, so please go easy on yourself emotionally. Many of us don't like to measure foods. Many of us don't like to sweat and/or exercise. But all of us like to weigh less so we do what we have to do. You are not alone here, we know how it feels, so please browse around, learn all you can, and join in the threads! Good luck!
