Tuesdays

I have to tell you I am not a big fan of the day Tuesday. Any Tuesday at any time. I am not really sure when my loathing for this particular day started but hate it I do. Imagine how unhappy I was this morning after I realized that I had an appointment for a double header doctor's visit. Yes, I said a double header or two parter. Just what every gal needs on a dreaded Tuesday; a mammogram and a pap smear.

And yet something cool happened. I had a great day. In part because the mammographer was very nice. It is difficult for both participants to make "nice" conversation especially if one is semi-nude. I am chatty by nature and tend to like most people I meet. I think I have a good read on most people. There is a saying that people come into your life for a reason. I did something that inspired and motivated someone I don't know.

I think I inspired the mammographer to go back to WW. As much as I like to pretend that WW is not an integral part of my life I prove to myself time and again that it is. Every time I walk away from program I soundly fall on my face, because well, nobody is watching including me. Some time ago I gave up on my journey. Not because I don't want to do it anymore, not because the program doesn't work but because I suck at handling stress. My life has been interrupted by an illness in my Dad.

I am doing about as well as I can in the arena of "I feel crippled and overwhelmed" in regards to my Dad's recent run of bad health. Shortly before Thanksgiving this year, two days before exactly, an aneurysm behind my father's left knee blew and a clot lodged in his foot. I rushed him to the hospital. After what seemed like an eternity, a brilliant yet evil surgeon performed a fem-pop bypass on my Dad's artery to try and save his leg and foot. My dad very nearly died. I have been trying to get back to me ever since.

It is difficult beyond measure to keep my head on straight, to manage two households, to try to stick to program and be happy. Some days are diamonds, some days are stone.