Oh, HELL No!

First of all, thank you for your well wishes for my MIL. The ER doc confirmed that it was indeed sciatica. He wrote her a couple of scripts and sent her home. She is doing much better tonight. The swelling is way down and she has a lot less pain.

Okay, so last night, Husband went to the store to pick up a few things and one of the things he bought was a package of cookies. I saw that package of cookies and flipped my lid. Seriously. Why, you ask?

Well, take a look:

They look like regular little old chocolate/caramel chunk cookies, right?

Uh...

No.

They are huge chocolate/caramel chunk cookies. Huge, heavy cookies.

Look at the size of that thing. 0.0

Yes, that is a busted nail... *sigh* I killed it on plastic tumblers, of all things. Now I have to let it grow out and reshape it.

Anyhoodle, check out the nutrition facts. This is for one cookie!

You can click to enlarge, if you need to. :D

503 calories and 25.9 grams of fat with 8.1 grams of saturated fat.

For one cookie.

Do we, as a race of beings need these huge ass calorie bombs? I really don't think so. And I have asked Husband not to bring those into this house, again.

For the record, I did not eat that cookie. Funny thing? I wasn't even tempted. Seriously. Now, anyone who knows me well knows that I can't leave caramel alone. Or should I say I couldn't leave caramel alone. Seems I can, now.

I can remember a day, not too long ago when I would have piled two or three of those monsters on a salad plate, grabbed a big mug of sweetened, heavily creamed coffee and sat down to have a little before breakfast appetizer. Buzzing on the sugar high and feeling fine, indeed, I would have decided that I needed to cut the sweetness and got to cooking. Three eggs, lots and lots of freshly grated Cheddar, at least a half cup of grated cheese. With any breakfast type meat I might have on hand and mushrooms and onions. All cooked in way too much butter. Or drippings, if I did bacon or sausage. I would have put that monster on my plate and arranged around it four slices of toast, all soaked in and dripping melted butter. And another big cup of sweetened, heavily creamed coffee. And that would have killed the too sweet feeling in my mouth.

Then it would be time for something sweet, again. To cut the fat and the salt. Enter Pepsi and another cookie or two.

And so it would go...

To be at or just tipping past 400 pounds, I would have had to be ingesting a good 4000 calories+ a day. No wonder I was so sick all day, every day, had heartburn, couldn't sleep well and felt as if I could hardly function. I was killing myself with food. Slowly, steadily killing myself. I can see it so clearly, now. Why couldn't I, then?

I think it is because I was, like so many, so deep in disordered thinking that I couldn't see past the fog of the food high. I was so dependent on the drug that food had become that I couldn't see, couldn't feel just how sick I really was. I see it, now. And I am happy to have my feet on the road to recovery.

I won't lie... Things are a bit stressful around here, right now. And I am feeling that old, insane urge to make it go away. To make myself numb so that I don't have to feel. To deal. To be present. But the urge isn't too strong. And I have it well in hand. I am still not tempted by the cookies. To be honest, just the thought of ingesting one makes me sick. May it continue to do so. :D

Please don't hate me... I kinda hate myself for this, but I didn't walk, tonight. I couldn't. My hip is bugging me pretty bad. Not quite as bad as yesterday but I decided to give myself a day to rest it. And my stupid knee, too. I feel guilty. Especially after all of my big mouth action about how walking is mandatory and I will do it six days a week and yadda, yadda, yadda. Yeah, big talker. That's me. Hopefully a day of rest will do me and I can get out there, tomorrow. I really missed it, tonight.

Son goes back to work tomorrow after three days off. Thank heaven! Having him underfoot for three days was the outside of enough! He spends his time in his own area of the house and doing his own thing but still... He was off and around. Gah! I love him and am happy to have him living with us but he needs to be at work. lol

Husband is on vacation, next week. Somebody shoot me now.

Please?

Seriously.

I'll pay you.

In huge, calorie bomb cookies.

Or...

I'll do your nails.

Or...

I'll grill you a turkey burger or some chicken...

If you will just come put me out of my misery. lol

By the end of the week, I will be like this:

lol

And to close, here is a pic of my own kitteh. Marley. Is he not fabulous?