Last week, I talked about not accepting no as an answer, and with the help of friends, found even more ways to fight for yes. Thanks to those of you who encouraged me; I have since rescheduled my follow-up appointment, which was initially just a weight check, to be specifically with the surgeon who will replace my knee. A bonus: it’s also a week later, so that gives me more time.

I am still dedicated to losing as much weight as possible between now and then. It’s given me the drive and focus I’ve needed to get my head firmly back in place. I’ve even noticed a shift in my thought processes over the past week, and I’m grateful for that. I’ve also dropped more than half of the weight the physician’s assistant requested — something I suspect he didn’t think I was capable of doing. I knew I was carrying water weight and said so; he simply didn’t look past the easily available stats in front of him.

Gotta play those cards!

I hit a low weight in May, and since then, I’ve let circumstances become an excuse for weight creep. My mind has been slowly changing and losing that drive I had months ago, thinking I must accept where I’m at. I don’t have to accept that at all, and if nothing else, I needed this wakeup call.

Now, I’m not far above my low, again, and I’ve been thinking of where I’ll be later this fall — and what I’ll be able to accomplish after knee surgery. I’ve been working toward meeting all of my fitness goals each day, despite needing to care for my husband after his second knee replacement surgery. (As you can see, I’m pretty familiar with this entire process — which is one of the reasons I was thrown for such a loop when the PA threw a wrench in the works.) I let his first surgery in July throw me out of my regimen; I allowed myself no such excuses this time.

Life’s not fair — I’ve been dealt a number of physical complications that make weight loss quite difficult — but I can either whine about it or do something about it. Lamenting my issues instead of dealing with them not only got me up to at least 371 pounds (that’s the number on the scale when I finally looked; not necessarily my highest weight, just the one I know about!), but it destroyed both of my knees from carrying the weight of my body, robbed me of years when I could have been living a better life, destroyed my skin (need extra skin? Give me a call!), worsened any health issues I had, including depression — the list is a long one.

Playing the cards I’ve been dealt instead of just accepting them has changed much of my life. It’s my responsibility to research, change, adjust when necessary, and keep moving forward. I spent too many years creating my own limitations; my life, these days, must be about tearing them down, wherever and whenever possible, and doing the unexpected.

“Every hand’s a winner, every hand’s a loser”. When that PA glanced over my numbers and spoke to me, he didn’t see me. He saw stats and he judged. I am still a large woman. I’m sure there are a legion of women my size that are doing absolutely nothing to improve their health; that adhere to a regimen, that walk daily, that put in the effort. That isn’t readily visible on a medical chart or just by looking at me.

Conversely, there are plenty of people in this world that look entirely fit but ate Cheetos for breakfast, if they ate breakfast, and lead sedimentary lives. The truth is we don’t know the full picture of anyone until we dig deeper. My goal is to make sure my physician knows the whole person, rather than the stats. Then, we’ll be partners in my surgery and recovery. Whatever I do in the meantime to improve my health is a bonus.

Thanks for being there for me. Had I not taken the step of being publicly accountable in my weight loss journey, these current hurdles may have created enough of a limitation that I might have started to turn back instead of moving forward. That support means the world to me.