There is no shame in my game. I finally jumped on the injectable weight loss medicine train. Well, not so much as jumped but was heavily suggested to me by my cardiologist. There was the option to do it without meds, but after trying that over and over with my weight going all over the place, I decided to take the leap. Plus, doctors apparently don’t prescribe legal speed for weight loss anymore so what do I have to lose?
A full blown wellness plan with a monthly check in/weigh in. A weekly shot. Tracking all of my physical activity. Tracking every calorie that enters my body. Tracking my water intake. A moderation diet. You know, doing all of the things I should have been doing before having a doctor put me on this plan.
When I tell people my weight they either: A. can’t wrap their head around it or B: blame it on my boobs. I’ve been tricking everyone all along with palazzo pants, flowing tops, and trapeze dresses that show off my chicken legs to give the illusion that the rest of me is just as long, thin, and toned.
I’ve been walking almost every morning at the crack of dawn since May. I’ve been trying to watch my portions and/or cook healthy meals. But maaan, sometimes when I’m stressed I have a date with a large order of Arby’s curly fries. (Yes, it’s me that is keeping them in business.)
So, here I am. Waiting for the side effects to hit but I suppose I’ll take some constipation over even more heart issues.
PS. In true Cassie form, I gave my body the proper send off: Taco Bell and red wine.
PPS. *adds laxatives and stool softener to cart*
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