I just returned from having my nails manicured, I am typing this two fingered as they dry. As the title says I am almost 75% of myself, I am becoming more and more of myself each day. The headache, earache, toothache and neckache are totally gone, not sure if all of those are really one word answers, however at this moment I really don't care.
I did go and weigh in at WW, I really needed to know that after living through the dreaded "whatever this was" that I had to have gained something to my advantage. I knew the minute I walked in I should leave, the associate waiting to weigh me was a woman I had encountered only once before, and vowed then to never seek her support again (story is far to long to relay any details, but trust me "she is to be avoided at all cost"). I stepped on the scale and she giggled with glee, "oh my gosh you lost 9 lbs.", I knew that couldn't be correct, I had been ill but this ventured on the Twilight Zone realm. Between telling me this and returning to the screen she lost all the vital information and we had to begin again. Once again I stepped on the scale, "it's giving me different information", says she, "really?" says I. This time I had lost 2.8 lbs, more in the realm of reality I am thinking. She quickly printed out my sticker and even more rapidly adhered it to my booklet. I being ever curious asked if we could try the weigh in again on another scale, "oh no", says she, "we can't do that", "why?", I ask, "not allowed to", says she. I am 100% positive that I left with the "so called blank expression on my face", truly baffled and a little (as my mother would say) bamboozled. There you have it, at sometime between Monday and today, during my visits to the bathroom and my inbibing cups of tea I lost either 9 lbs or 2.8 lbs or some other lbs inbetween.
I will be on the plane this afternoon at 4:00 and heading out to Boulder, not exactly the fun filled weekend I had planned. I am fully intending on enjoying myself but on a kinder, gentler scale (light food and very limited alcohol).
To close this whole experience, this week has reminded me of a visit donkeys years ago of my paternal grandmother to our house in Scotland. My mother the ever adventerous cook (not in a good way - and I mean that in the loving sense of the words - my mother is fully aware of her limitations in the cooking department), made a raisin pie. My grandmother was, how do I say this, she was "as sick as a dog", so much so that forever after all we had to do was mention the words "raisin pie" to my grandmother and she would recoil in horror. I fully understand this week how my lovely gentle grandmother felt that weekend and the true meaning of the words "sick as a dog".
All going well, I will be home on Monday and on Tuesday will reconnect, sharing the joy of my weekend in Boulder.