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Senior Member
Thread Starter
Join Date: Jul 2012
Location: Gainesville, GA
Posts: 1,118
S/C/G: 293/ticker/170
Height: 5'6"
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Reintroducing Myself
I went MIA for a while. But, I think I am back. First, little background about me.
For those of you who don't know me, I'm lucky to be alive. You se, on July 17, 2012 I made a decision to lose weight. Of course, my decision wasn’t set in stone at the time. I still ate candy, still ate chips, still gorged on foods I had no business eating, and hadn’t lost a single pound. I don’t know why I remember that date. But I do remember what cemented my decision less than a month later. On August 13, my three year old daughter found me almost dead.
My husband and I always car pool to work. That day, I woke up at 3:30 in the morning not feeling quite right. I took a shower, thinking it would help. By 4, I called into work letting them know I would be late and told my husband to go on in without me, that I would drive in separately. I also told him to leave our daughter with me and I would take her to daycare late. He almost took her anyways since she had woken up and was all over the place as any hyper active three year old would normally be. The decision to leave her behind is what saved me, because as soon as he left around 5, I had already gone back to sleep.
When I next woke, I woke up half way on the floor. It was almost 8 and my child wag tugging me out of the bed, beating on me, screaming, crying, and begging me to wake up. If she hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have woken. Everything was a blur, I couldn’t concentrate, I couldn’t breathe, but I had an overwhelming primal urge that I HAD to wake up. I just KNEW if I went back to sleep, I would never wake up again. I wasn’t thinking when I urged her down the stairs and into the car. I don’t remember the drive. I remember walking into the doctor’s office and the receptionist jumping up, knocking her chair over, and screaming she needed someone up front immediately. I remember them dragging my daughter away from me. I remember the multiple steroid shots they gave me and the oxygen they hooked me up to. I heard them ask me for a contact name and number and then the ambulance driver was asking for the year, my name, my age, and all of that. I didn’t know why he was there or where he had come from. Then I realized I had a needle in my arm, I don’t know where that came from. But I remember the next thing that was said. My blood oxygen saturation level was at 42 percent. After that, I don’t remember then next three days as I was laid up in ICU.
I stayed in the hospital for nearly two weeks and was on an oxygen tank after that for nearly two months. I was an asthmatic who had developed streptococcus pneumonia. I had blockages in my lungs that was causing me to poison myself with carbon dioxide. I ended up with a viral infection on top of that, and a fungal infection. I was diagnosed with ARDS (my pulmonologist plans to give me a more permanent diagnosis come this October.) I later found out that the morgue has corpses delivered that have higher O2 saturations than I did.
In laymen’s terms, I should have been in a coma or flat lining.
I started slow. I had no choice but to start slow, I passed out moving from my bed to the couch. But I started. At 293 pounds. My doctors advised me to file disability. I refused. Instead, I ate low calories, low fat, low carbs. I ate a lot of protein shakes. I measured my foods. I researched like crazy on how to do it and do it right. By the start of 2013, I weight 266.6. By February 2013, I took up running. Well, more like an attempt at running. I couldn’t make it 1000 feet without nearly passing out. But I started. And come September, I was running, no longer attempting, but actually running 5 very hilly miles. I took up weight lifting. I got all the way down to 216 in November.
Then life hit me again. HARD. In a check up with my lung doc, he noticed a murmur. Nothing serious, probably innocent, but best to be sure. Several tests later, I was diagnosed with HOCM on top of all my lung issues and put on mandated "no exercise" until they determinied my LVO gradient. Being me, I demanded a second opinion. And got an even WORSE diagnosis. Go figure. March 2014 I was diagnosed with discrete subaortal stenosis with a 50% LVO gradient. By this point, I was somewhere around 235.
What does THAT mean? It means I am now 31 and being told I am looking at open heart surgery in the near future. How near, we don't know yet. I'm on serious medications now (as if I wasn't already) and find that they hinder my weight loss. That, and the stress of buying a new house, fear of the unknown, the fear of my daughter finding me passed out again from either a bum heart or bum lungs, I got all the way up to 259.
I'm back in control though. I am 245.2 as of this morning. I'm scared out of my mind. I had this. I was rocking this. I was a top "loser". Then life threw a damn curve ball. I'm on exercise restriction. No running. No heavy lifting. Why? When I exercise, my heart rate goes up, causing my subaortal memebrane to close up my LV, which makes my BP drop dangerously low, makes me dizzy, makes me pass out. Good news is, it wasn't my lungs making me do that. Bad news is, it means I'm kinda stuck in very low activities.
In any case, I'm back. I have a long road to travel. It has a lot of hills and a lot of turns. I have binged and gained, only to go back on plan and lose it again. I have ups, I have downs, and I have plateaus. My health is still a constant battle. I continuously have flare ups. I am continuously back and forth to the doctor. I continuously have tests and find more things to be concerned about in regards to my health. But I am trending down overall. I am not giving up. My goal isn’t to be a cookie cutter weight or size. It is to be healthy.
In retrospect, being at a healthier weight would not change my health, my heart and lungs are all genetics. But I feel better smaller. And THAT is what counts. And because of that, it is my driving force on why I can not fail at weight loss. I can not have my daughter find me like that day in 2012. I just can not. And if that is what keeps me going, then so be it.
And if I can do it, if I can keep at it, I know you can too.
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hi faded! I dropped off the radar when the doctor threw my newest curveball at me. Fear mixed with anxiety mixed with a pity party mixed with the stress of buying a new house (OMG it is BEAUTIFUL!) and I just...lost it. All those weird flare ups we thought were my lungs and associated with the ARDS ended up being related to a genetic heart disorder that went undiagnosed my entire life...something that is usually discovered in infancy and has a 100% rate of open heart surgery. It kinda freaks me out that I am looking at open heart and I am not even in my middle ages yet, but I'm starting to come around. I mean, at least I know about it. So now, I know an inhaler isn't the answer and I know I can't push myself. I used to think the dizzy spells and pass out spells were a sign that I needed to back off for just a few minutes. Now I know that I really shouldn't be doing this stuff. It is disheartening to know that I will never truly be healthy. But at least I can combat it to remain here a little longer.
