Well, I'm back.
I thought I was done with dieting, watching every label, counting calories. I was tired of all of it after probably 46 years of doing that all the time.
I'm 66, I thought. I don't need to do all of that anymore. Who cares, anyway. I'll just be me.
Yes, I gained back many of the pounds I had lost over those many years, but I was okay with that. It was so much easier to just eat what everyone else is eating. So much more fun.
Well, that didn't work out so well. Wednesday morning I ended up in the emergency room with blood pressure off the charts and unable to get a breath. I was hooked up to all the tubes and monitors, x-rayed and given a breathing treatment. I was so sure it was just pneumonia. Not to be taken lightly, mind you, but not terribly serious.
Think again!
The doctor came in and calmly stated that my tests indicated congestive heart failure and he was admitting me to the hospital immediately.
Surely he didn't mean me...he obviously had the wrong room.
I must have looked at him like an idiot. I couldn't even comprehend what he was saying, so it was a good thing my husband was in the room to hear it too.
By 4 a.m. I was transferred to the main hospital by ambulance and hooked up again. I was breathing better. I was pretty sure the main hospital heart specialist was going to say it's not what they thought. All a big mistake, I was sure.
Not so fast.
My heart stopped. THAT'S enough to get you serious about taking care of yourself. I have three grandchildren. I HAVE to be here to dance at their weddings. I have to watch them grow up, and be there for them when they need their Mimi. I have to make some changes.
So -- here I am. Ready and WILLING again to get serious about losing weight, eating better, and doing away with salt in my diet.
I have no choices -- I've backed myself into this corner and I have a way to get out. I'm on my way.
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