Hey, friends. It's been pretty much a week of fail here eating/exercise wise - though I did march Mom out for a 25-minute power walk Monday night along our country roads. Tracked my food Monday through Wednesday, and I worshipped at the altar of Mistress Jillian on Tuesday (once I could walk up the stairs again, thanks to her squats) but then Wednesday just blew me all over the place. I've been dealing with some girly problems (which I won't detail here, to spare whatever male readers I may have!) since last winter, and they flared up big and bad Wednesday night and sent me to the ER Wednesday at 11 p.m. These are the nights I am glad I don't live alone, and have a parent nearby to fire up the SUV and drive me downtown. I was home from work recovering yesterday, and am pretty much back on track today (if you don't count the Whopper Junior and Swedish Fish on my desk right now. Swedish Fish - I KNOW. Why can't I quit you, little red bits of gummy goodness?!?).
I have to wait for the consulting physician to get back in town Monday, and then talk with her about scheduling exploratory surgery to determine the cause of said girly problems. Please know that this problem is NOT serious or life-threatening, but it is compromising my quality of life (see 11 p.m. ER trip above) so my doctors and I think it's time to dig deeper to see what's happening. Even if that digging requires a laproscope actually digging in ME. Eeek. As long as I can still bang out sit-ups when we're done, it's all good.
Back to Mistress Jillian this weekend! Bring it!
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