Overweight and Out of Shape

Overweight and out of shape.  Those are words that could possibly have been used to describe me literally my entire life.  And maybe they even were...I was the largest of my mom's 3 babies.  I was a chubby child.  I always hated that day in the fall and then again in the spring during those elementary school years when the school nurse showed up, lined us up in the hall, and weighed and measured us.  Right...in front of...the entire class.  

Then there was junior high and those dreaded showers.  Oh my gosh, how I worried the summer before 7th grade, imagining those locker room showers and being judged by everyone.  But, it ended up not being so bad. Our PE teacher only made us shower once each quarter to give us our "shower grade".  And even then, everyone else was just as mortified about them as I was, so we all changed with our backs to each other, and we were FAST, everyone equally distraught about the whole ordeal.  

In high school, all was good.  I had friends.  I had boyfriends.  I had a part-time job, a car, and just did all the things high school kids do in small-town mid-America.  I certainly didn't put much thought into my weight.  I had been a size 18 from "school-clothes shopping" the summer before 6th grade all the way to my high school graduation, except for a very brief period of time at the start of my junior year.  That was after my first really big heartbreak occurred, and I could wear a size 14 for about a month.  But, I quickly grew out of them again as I moved on to bigger and better things and my appetite returned at the same pace that my heart healed.  

Weight was always just something in the back of my mind, but not something I stressed about too much as an adult.  It didn't stop me from doing the things I wanted to do.  It didn't stop me from going places, from buying clothes, from being active, from dating, hanging out with friends, or any of the things a young adult does during those first years out of school.  

It wasn't until after a couple of kids and 15 years down the road, when I was a size 24/26, that I really actively pursued serious weight-loss and the whole "diet and exercise thing" that I saw other people doing so diligently.  My motivation was a wedding I was going to be in, and a bridesmaid's dress I had to wear.  I was in my mid-30's, weighed about 100 pounds more than I'd weighed in my mid-twenties, gaining about 10 pounds a year each of the previous 10 years, so it hadn't even been a big deal to me as it was happening.  After all, that had been less than a pound a month, so it had just gradually crept up on me.  I was teaching middle school, absolutely loved my job, had great kids, a great husband, great friends, and life really was just "GREAT" during that period of time.  I began logging my calories, borrowed a friend's elliptical, and in 10 months, just in time for the wedding, I'd lost 50 pounds.  It was such a change in my body that I had to have my dress taken in several inches just days before the wedding when I tried it on!  However, over that next year, life just went on as a busy, working mom and wife, I stopped being so strict with my calorie counting, my friend needed her elliptical back, and I'd gained those lost 50 pounds by the end of the following year.  

I bounced around within the same 20 pound range over the next 10 years, sometimes up 10, sometimes down 10, but always within that same 20 pound range of the weight I'd been before my 50 pound "wedding weight loss" had happened.  It wasn't enough to cause my clothing size to change or for there to be any big changes in my appearance, my fitness level, my annual bloodwork at the doctor's office, or my life.  In late 2020/early 2021 I tried a prescription appetite suppressant.  It worked.  I lost about 30 pounds in 3-4 months, which was the limit to how many months my doctor would prescribe it at a time.  But the weight came right back on as soon as I stopped taking it.  I wasn't too concerned though.  I had been following the same "healthy habits" for the last 10 years. I tried to eat well Monday-Friday, splurged on the weekends if there was something I was craving or if there was something really ooey-gooey and decadent I wanted to cook or bake.  That was the life balance that worked for me.  And it did work. My doctor had even told me I was "the poster child" for not being able to tell someone's health by their outward appearance because all my labs were always great; my good cholesterol was high, my bad cholesterol was low, and my blood sugar and blood pressure were both good.

I was confident in saying 2021 was going to be a good year.  We had made it through our first full school year after being closed due to the pandemic.  I was teaching my "dream job" position, and loving every minute of it.  Summer break was one of the best I'd had in years.  I was just focusing on eating well, being active, reading, keeping my house clean and organized, playing frisbee every day with my dog while getting lots of natural vitamin D, cooking healthy meals when my husband came home from work, and enjoying every day.  We went to the zoo, went swimming, and even drove to Missouri to watch the Chiefs at Training Camp.  I was excited for the upcoming school year, and just really loving life.  

School started for the 2021-22 school year, and it was as great as I'd hoped.  I loved my 100+ new 6th graders, I was so excited for everything I had planned for the year, and I threw so much energy and enthusiasm into planning my lessons.  I dressed up for EVERY SINGLE DAY of Homecoming Spirit Week for the first time in the 22 years I'd worked there.  I was completely and totally in the groove and "living the dream" I'd always wanted.  Then, 8 weeks into that glorious, magical school year, I tested positive for Covid.  

I quarantined for my 14 days, as was the protocol at that time.  I was still very winded, weak, exhausted, and still had this mysterious swelling at the end of the 2 weeks, so took a third week off to continue recovering, and then returned.  By the end of that first week back, I was so worn down, I couldn't quite make it to the end of the day on Friday and left early.  I was completely defeated, in pain, exhausted, and the edema was worse and worse with each passing day.  My principal was so kind, so concerned.  He completely supported me trying to only work half-days that next week. But it soon became apparent that something wasn't right.  I started each Monday thinking, "OK, this is the week I am back in the swing of things."  But it wasn't mind over matter.  Not even close.  The more I pushed myself the more exhausted I was, the more pain, the more fluid built up, the more headaches, the more brain fog, confusion.  My shortness of breath began to get worse and worse, my heart was racing all the time, and the edema in my lower extremities was horrible.  Then more and more cognitive issues began to develop.  The more I tried to do, the worse I felt, the more I pushed myself, the more I felt like I was getting pushed back.  But by what, I didn't know...And then, it finally all added up.  I had Post-Covid Syndrome, now more commonly known as Long Covid.  

It's been 18 months now, since that first week I tried to return to work.  It's been 18 months of nerve, joint, and muscle pain, headaches, dizziness, severe edema, and debilitating exhaustion.  It's been 18 months of dealing with cognitive deficits, loss of mobility and balance, loss of some dexterity and fine motor skills.  It's been 18 months of gaining 40 pounds of fluid, losing it with diuretics, filling right back up with 40 pounds of fluid when the meds stop, and repeating this cycle.  Now it's to the point that even the diuretics aren't working.  The fluid doesn't leave, just shifts up and down my legs, into my abdomen, up into my arms, back down into my legs. My shortness of breath has gotten worse and worse, my racing heart sometimes feels like it's going to pound right out of my chest, and even the smallest of tasks is absolutely exhausting.  It's gotten to the point where it's difficult to even leave the house more often than not, and is rarely worth the amount of time and energy it takes for me to do so.  Just forcing myself to still get up to an alarm each day, to get out of bed, to get fully dressed, comb my hair, throw it up in a bun, and make it down the hall to the couch is a feat in itself.  

Some of the doctors I've seen and been treated by have been amazing.  They have shown kindness, compassion, and patience with me as I've explained my symptoms.  They've included me in decisions, listened to my concerns, and even to my ideas. They've gone above and beyond to help me navigate a disease they are still only just now learning about themselves. Others have looked at me and seen an overweight and out of shape woman in her late 40's, and they can see nothing else.  No matter what I tell them or what they see in my chart, they see overweight and out of shape, and look no further.  I must just be deconditioned from those 3 weeks I was off with Covid. (Oh, you mean those 3 weeks I was off 18 months ago?)  

I can't deny being overweight.  I have not been considered in the "average weight" range since I was about 5 years old.  I've even received such backhanded compliments as, "It's a good thing you're overweight  because if you were pretty AND thin, you probably wouldn't be as nice of a person."  Ummm...thanks...?  And I'm sure as heck not an athlete.  I was once asked to sub on a "just for fun" women's volleyball team, and literally told them they would be at less of an advantage being a player short than having me play on their team.  But you know what else?  I was overweight and out of shape the summer of 2021 when I was living my best life.  I was overweight and out of shape when I tested positive for Covid in October of 2021, and I was still overweight and out of shape when I was still feeling ill in November and again in December, and still in February 2022 when I was officially diagnosed with Long Covid.  But, is that what's "wrong" with me?  No.  Is this overweight and out of shape identity something I've only taken on since being home with Covid for those 3 weeks over 18 months ago?  Nope, not accurate either.  Should ALL  doctors (and other medical personnel), and strangers, and even colleagues, and heck, even friends and family, always remember that there is a lot more to someone than just their physical appearance?  Absolutely.  Because, last I checked, just being overweight and out of shape has never stopped me from living my best life.