I had several questions for my primary care doc Wednesday besides the “What’s going on with my cycle?” one. My nails keep cracking, and the thumb nail on my right hand keeps splitting. (It’s been doing that for years, but it got real bad like it is now right before I discovered my hitchhiker.) But the biggie was: what’s up with my weight?

I weighed in at 187 in January 2008. That was it, my number that made me say, “Okay, I gotta do something.”

I started exercising more and cutting out the sweets. I dropped to 184. Then I had trouble budging the scale.

I’m not sure when I got down to 177. My mom got sick March 2008 and my life changed into a big, surrealistic, nightmarish blur. I sort of was aware I was eating less. (Because I have a bad tummy that tends to explode at the most inopportune times. I was running all over with my mom, who was so out of it I feared losing her because she’d decide to wander off while I was stuck in a restroom somewhere. Can you just see the headlines? I could. I don’t mind publicity but I don’t want that kind of notoriety!)

Anyway, by the time we took our Alaskan cruise in August of 2008 I was down to 170. And I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I loved it. (I remember a time I almost puked when I saw the scale had reached the 170 mark.)

Not as much as I liked dropping to 160, then 155 thanks to chemo though. BAD way to lose weight, but hey. I had to enjoy something from all that misery, didn’t I?

But once I was off chemo, I sprung right back up to 168. That’s where I was last year for our Cape San Blas 4th of July beach vacation.

The scale has only climbed since. I’m now back to 188.

Yet, I really haven’t changed my diet much. (Well, okay from barely eating during chemo and throwing up pretty much anything I did, yes, that’s changed. But before that, like when I had gotten down to 170, no. My eating is about the same.)

Of course, maybe the cancer was eating up my flub then. That is one of the symptoms. Weight loss. And losing has never been easy for me.

But I do exercise. I walk Murph every day, I play tennis 2-3 times a week, volleyball is about 2 times a week. And sometimes I even walk without Murph. The past week I’ve been sneaking in some swimming too. (With plans to do more.)

Anyway, the doctor said if I’m not getting results I could always try phentermine. Most people have great success with it and lose fast.

Sounds great, except I’m not one to do drugs. I’m not on the pill and never have been because I think it just messes with the body too much. I’m more of a natural kind of girl.

Still, the idea of losing 30 pounds in 3 months with the help of this pill was awfully tempting.

My new plan is to ramp up my exercise and eating healthier regimen. One thing I’ve always sort of wanted to try is a mini-triathlon. I want to see if focusing on something like that, and putting the time in training, will help me drop pounds.

I don’t want to be stick thin. My ideal weight would be 160. If I could get to 150 that would be awesome. For my height I’d still be overweight, but I don’t look it as much at that weight.

Also, my driver’s license is due for renewal this year. I don’t want to look like the happy hippo I’ve been in this other one. I want my 170 face back. (At least. The less of a double chin the better!)

At any rate, I guess it’s good to know about this phentermine stuff in case I get very desperate. But I think I’d rather try a not cheating way first.

So…mini-tri training here I come!

I’ve been having some “woman” issues lately. Like the past month or so. Actually, it’s been a bit longer than that, but things sort of took a nose dive in the last month in a more noticeable, “uh oh, guess I better go talk to the doc” kind of way.

No one was sure Aunt Flow would even come back after chemo (which threw me into a sort of menopause). But last August it did.

I’ve always had a pretty healthy cycle. It normally comes right on time. But when it came back it was a bit heavier than what it had been. And then around December/January my PMS started kicking in a bit more fiercely and earlier than normal.

Then the periods started coming more. Like every 3 1/2 to 4 weeks instead of 4 1/2 to 5. Then in May it was supposed to come on May 13. Or around there. Nothing.

I had some symptoms, fully expected it, but it never showed. A month passed and still nothing. But, again, I was starting to get symptoms, along with some wicked pains. I chalked that up to my period being late and making up for lost time.

We went to St. Louis to see friends 4th of July weekend and I thought I might die. The drive there wasn’t bad. I was doing so-so. But as the night wore on I felt the pain growing and growing until all I could think was, “This is it! It’s of course going to strike now, when we’re on vacation trying to have fun.”

But…nothing.

And that first night as we drove back to our hotel from our friend’s house I had to pull over and let Wayne drive. I was doubled over and was seriously considering a trip to the ER.

But a few Advil and sleep made things more bearable for the morning. I then popped more Advil because we were headed to Six Flags with our friends and their kids and no way was I going to rain on their parade.

I made it through okay, but I knew something was wrong. I was having too much pain, and a very weird smell (sorry, maybe that’s TMI but it’s part of my symptoms).

I took a pregnancy test because my 3 month oncologist checkup was this past Tuesday. They always have to x-ray me and I knew they’d need to know if there was a bun in my oven. The test was negative.

I mentioned my period problems to my onc nonetheless. They told me I better schedule with my primary.

I luckily got in the next day. They had me pee in a cup and confirmed, nope, not prego, but there was another cause for concern: there was some blood in my urine.

Say what? So what does that indicate?

It could be a cyst, a fibroid tumor, maybe even my kidneys. However, I should be in more pain if it was kidney related. Oh, yeah, and there’s always the possibility I could have another hitchhiker. They took some blood and scheduled a vaginal ultrasound for the next day. (Which was yesterday.)

Lovely.

Hearing the C word of course flipped me out. Especially since my aunt is dying of a female cancer. But Wayne surprised me and went to my ultrasound appointment with me. It really helped because otherwise I would’ve been freaking myself out in the waiting room. Instead, he was there distracting me with funny commentaries about stories on Today.

But here’s the part where “here we go again…” comes in:

Test was yesterday. The radiologist should have gotten them to my doctor by yesterday afternoon. But if they did they never called to tell me.

And of course my doctor’s office closes early on Fridays, so they never called this morning with results either. I tried them at 11:40 (thinking they closed at noon). Wrong. They close at 11:30. ARGH!

So now I have to wait all weekend.

Wonderful. That’s a lot like last time. Except I’m not in near as much pain and it’s not Christmastime.

Hopefully it’s something easier than another hitchhiker. But you better believe I am NOT ready to check out of this world yet. Bring it. I’ve got more fight left in me!

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I’ve been seriously writing (serious meaning not only writing but submitting my work for publication) since 1997. The first contest I ever entered was the Glendale Public Library’s Short Story Contest in Arizona. My story, “Grandma Jo’s Alligator Honeymoon,” placed 3rd.

I thought that was a pretty good showing for my first contest. Since then I’ve entered dozen more contests, and have racked up several Honorable Mentions, 3rd Places and even a couple 2nd Places, but a 1st Place has eluded me. (Well, I did sort of get one for an essay I wrote. And I think $5 or $10 for it too. But I also think it was split between other winners. It wasn’t a true 1st place.)

But today I received a surprise package in the mail from Writers’ Journal. I’d forgotten I’d entered their Fiction Contest back in January. I submitted “Night of the Villistas,” a historical romance. I thought maybe I’d gotten another H.M., or maybe it was a package trying to solicit a subscription.

Nope, it was a winner’s packet, complete with my complimentary copy with my story in it, a certificate, and $500! Hot damn!

I’ve always loved the story but could never seem to get it accepted anywhere. It always got great compliments but it just never seemed to be right for anybody.

Until this contest. I’m glad I didn’t give up hope and kept believing in it. It was the little short story that could!

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