Missing Links

I saw the dietician yesterday. Usual Tuesday routine. It was my third week on 1,200 calories, and the scales showed a loss. Nothing drastic, but a loss nonetheless. Is my metabolism kicking in? The extra energy burn from being on crutches all week? Either way, I'll take it. 

I was actually 100% prepared for the potential of a temporary gain this week, as my tummy hasn't felt quite right. Tuesday through Thursday, I was having awful cramps, to the point where I could barely move. I only had one (*ahem*) 'movement' all week since, which is highly unusual for me. So, in any light, the loss was an unexpected bonus.

Again, my intake was between 1,140-1,180 calories each day; 600-900 of those being food, the rest Ensure. 

"No 1,200? What happened to 1,200?"

I shrug "I just see it as being close enough."

"It is... but it'd be great if we could try to get to 1,240, 1,260, that sort of range. It's just as close."

I still have the mentality that a calorie goal is to be strictly stayed under. It's a maximum, not a minimum. So, this week I'll be aiming for 1,200-1,250, which just means a little extra powder in my Ensure, so I should be able to manage. 

I've been completely useless and unproductive all week, unable to do much without assistance. Mum's been helping out in the kitchen. I accepted I couldn't do it all on crutches. I still have to weigh everything myself, but I've started asking mum if she can get things out for me or watch what's cooking, while I sit at the bench. I've only had soup for dinner twice this past week; I'm cooking and eating family dinners unless mum's already planned something I flat-out won't or can't eat, so that's something.

The crutches have knocked every ounce of strength out of me. It wasn't this difficult last time. My body aches from head to toe, and I dread having to move. I'm completely exhausted in every way. 

Yesterday, I tried doing short stints without the crutches. Just around the kitchen, rejoicing in being able to carry things. I still can't wiggle my toes and the arch still touches the ground, but I enjoyed having some form of independence back. I could actually make a coffee and carry it outside, opposed to just tucking cans of Coke Zero in my pockets. It's the little things.

Today, I'm back on them. By last night it felt like my foot was going to completely give out again, and it's aching like mad this morning. I think I actually made the swelling worse. Maybe I pushed it a little too hard. I'm off the anti-inflammatories, and had to stop taking the stronger painkillers a couple of days ago, which sucks, but I'll deal.

Mood-wise, nothing's changed. I still feel like I'm trapped in a fog. Being immobile certainly isn't helping. I know I should be sewing, I know I have things to do in the kitchen, I know I have a to-do list as long as my arm. I just can't do it, even when I'm physically able. I can't get from A to B. It's like there's some missing link. Mum says that's a part of depression. I just sit, blank, still as a statue, feeling utterly lost. 

And wow, it's October already?! That's come around quickly. Time just goes by quicker and quicker. 

xxBella