In January 2014 I started a new job (in addition to the job I was already working) and loved it. I was working 60-70 hour work weeks and getting paid for education to specialize in the emergency room. And I was damn good at my job if I do say so myself. I also was going to school and taking a cardiac dysrhythmia and management course (which I ended up with an overall grade of an A). Needless to say I was pretty busy. 2014 basically consisted of work work work and more work. But I was happy. I'd go to Zumba on occasion and was constantly here there and everywhere. I was never home and I was always busy. On days off, we would go on day trips, go away for the weekend or just engage in activities in our area. 2014 was a lot of fun for me. We were even planning on a tropical vacation to take place over Easter 2015 and we were trying to have a baby...and that's when I began getting serious about weight loss again and I got back down to about 295lbs. Christmas was amazing and we had a lot of fun with friends and family.
Then came January 2015...specifically January 6th. The 6th is a day that will be forever engrained in my brain. I had an accident. A bad accident. I dislocated my knee and tore the main artery in my right leg. I was rushed to the hospital where it was quickly apparent I needed a higher level of care. I was transferred to a bigger hospital and underwent a total of 9.5 hours of surgery (there were a total of 2 surgeries beginning in the very early morning of the 7th). During that time that I was in surgery, the doctors were unsure if they were going to be able to save my leg and/or my life. I had never been faced with my own mortality like that before. The fantastic surgeons (shout out Dr. L and Dr. H!!), were able to save my leg, but I did sustain severe vascular injuries which still plague me to this day. I spent the next 27 days on bed rest. That was complete and absolute torture. I was 5 hours away from home but my fantastic hubby was at my side almost every single day.
After the 27 days I was finally allowed to get out of bed and start physiotherapy (and shower!!!!!!!) but I would still spend a total of 8 weeks and 6 days in hospital and undergo 2 more surgeries before I was released an able to come home. Even after coming home I spent the majority of my day in bed because my leg was so sore and swollen. I was still unable to fully weight bear and required a walker and a wheelchair to get around my home. Slowly but surely I was able to put more and more weight on my leg and was eventually able to ditch all ambulatory aides. I'm now going to physio on a regular basis and doing all my exercises at home 2-3 times per day, but I'm still not as active as I once was. I do a lot of sitting (my leg and foot swell if I'm on it too much). It's not surprising that when the physiotherapist tested my muscle strength she found me to be incredibly weak. I've lost a lot of muscle which, frankly, was preferable to the alternative. Also, after eating hospital food for nearly 9 weeks...it's no surprise that I indulged a little...ok, ok a lot...when I got home. So there I was, fairly inactive and sedentary and eating far too much of foods I shouldn't have. It's really quite amazing that I didn't gain more weight back. And here I am...having gained back nearly every single pound I'd lost, with severe effects of my injury still present, mentally and emotionally beaten, fat and unhappy.
I've been cleared to get into the gym now though. And I plan to. Seeing as how I'm unable to work, I think that I need to use this time to work on myself. With my leg as fucked up as it is...the less weight that's on it, the better. So here we go again...the beginning of this portion of my journey.
My first official weigh in will be tomorrow and weekly after that. As for my diet, today was the first day I've cut carbs out of my diet (bread, pasta, rice, potatoes, grains, corn, etc).
Join me on my journey to not only lose weight, but to get back to the person I lost on January 6th, to be happy again. It's gonna be a wild ride.