When I was 48, my Babygirl was 6, and I was 100 lbs overweight. Since my mom had her first stroke at 58, I suddenly awoke to the idea that I had only TEN years to make a lasting change.
I did not 'go on a diet.' I radically changed my lifestyle. I lost 60 lbs, and went from being winded going up 2 flights of stairs to being able to ski for 6 hours with Babygirl (not that we got to do that THIS year!). I walk a mile a day at least, and go to Curves three days a week. I eat five to seven servings of fruits and veggies each day.
Or I DID. Then came kidney failure. Stress. Mandatory sedentariness (okay, no such word, but you get the idea). We ate on the run a lot, and although I have figured out ways to minimize the caloric impact of fast food, it still adds up when it's a repetitive behavior. I had trouble fitting the walk and work-outs in around the dialysis machine hookup times, and by the time we got the transplant, I had largely stopped doing either.
And as I said, the food at Children's Hospital is really good. They had healthy options such as veggies and fruit readily available. But they had some pretty good Philly Cheese Steak subs, and decent pizza. I stayed clear of the pasta, burgers and big deli sandwiches. I ate fruit and salads, and had a spinach omelet for breakfast and NOT the chocolate chip pancakes. I took all my pills daily.
Starting two days after Babygirl's transplant, I began regularly climbing the stairs in the CHOP atrium. There are 48 steps to the third floor, and I did them three to five times daily.
But there was one other problem. I forgot to pack one of my medications. Since it's injectable, it lives in the fridge. And it's got one major side effect - it decreases my appetite. I found myself TWENTY pounds heavier by the middle of February than I was in mid-April, before Babygirl's diagnosis.
I knew before we left for CHOP that I was in trouble. My 'skinny' jeans hadn't fit for a while already, and some of my work pants were getting tight. By the time I came home I could barely button my 'comfy' jeans, and had only three pairs of pants that fit for work (thank goodness - my skirts are a bit more forgiving LOL).
For the first few weeks since the transplant we have been getting into the medication routine, since the meds HAVE to be taken every 12 hours without fail. And gradually, I have been getting back on track with the meds and healthy eating. I began walking daily again about ten days ago. The dog is looking slimmer, and I've lost ten pounds. My 'comfy' jeans are getting comfy again, and I'll see when I get home from this trip to Philly if any more of my work pants fit again.
Because the bottom line remains. I'm an OLD mom for Babygirl. Most women raising 12-year-olds are in their thirties, and I'll be 54 this month. She's chronically ill and is going to need support for a long time. And she's going to be dependent on ME for health insurance. If I work until she's 26 (beyond which time she won't be covered by my insurance), I'll be 68 when I can retire (holy CRAP that's only 14 years from now!!). Medicare will cover her for the next three years, since she had the transplant. If she goes on dialysis again, they'll cover her again, with a three month delay (more in another post on the ramifications of THAT).
Nothing I can do will guarantee longevity. Nothing I can do will guarantee that I will be able to work even if I'm alive. But I will say this, again: As much as it rests on me, I will do all I can to be here for Babygirl as long as I can. I'll get my mammograms, my colonoscopies, my cholesterol and blood sugar tests. I'll maintain the healthiest lifestyle I can without making myself and all those around me insane. I'll do what my doctor tells me to do (and on my last visit his command was, "I want to see that extra weight GONE by the time you come back in three months!").
It's easier for me to take care of myself now that Babygirl looks so well. I know I'm sleeping better without the dialysis machine alarms. She'll be returning to school, God willing, in a little more than a week. I need to take the time to breathe.
DeeDee
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