Last weekend I went shopping (no easy feat with two small children) and spent a small fortune on some new clothes. It has been over 3.5 years since I have not been pregnant or carrying a bunch of baby fat around. A few months ago, I finally got down to my original pre-pregnancy weight (which I never achieved between my pregnancies) and I was going to wait for Christmas to go out shopping and buy a whole bunch of new “professional” clothes. In these past few months since reaching my goal, I’ve actually continued to lose weight. Initially, I was still “kind of” trying, but I let things slide here and there, and I wasn’t so strict about going to the gym. This was mostly because school was really starting to pick up and I was forced to choose between time with my kids, studying, and going to the gym. You can imagine which always came in last. Anyway, despite this drop in effort, I continued to lose weight… None of the clothes in my closet fit me… at all.
Usually, this wouldn’t be a huge deal and I could probably wait a few months for clothes (especially since shopping in my home town is MUCH more satisfying than shopping where I live). However, Since the last half of October, I have had clinical sessions pretty much everyday. For clinical, you have to look good. After all, you’re seeing patients and you’re evaluated for professionalism (read: looking professional). Yoga pants and that cheap pair of skinny jeans I treated myself to at goal weight, well they won’t cut it for daily clinical.
So, two weeks ago I bought new clothes. This morning I pulled out one of the new pairs of dress pants, tore the tags off and slipped them on (slipped… no effort). Then I looked in the mirror. To my horror, these brand new pants were just hanging off of me! I know, two weeks ago when I tried these on at the store, that they did not look like this: I definitely would not have spent $59 on them if they had! In the past two weeks, I’ve also lost 4 pounds. No counting points. No exercise. No scrutinizing everything I put in my mouth. What I have done lately, however: Daily Christmas Starbucks drinks. Yes, in my head that equation adds up to easy weight loss…?
I know I shouldn’t be complaining about such easy weight loss, especially while we’re in the midst of an obesity epidemic. However, I am a stress eater: You’re looking as Ms. Freshmen 50 herself. There is only one other time in my entire adult life (post Freshmen 50) that I’ve been at this low of a weight, and that was for my wedding… And even then, I purposely ordered my wedding dress two sizes too small so that I had no choice but to lose the weight! It worked, but I was working hard and doing everything they tell you not to do: starving myself, working out way too hard, weight myself every day (c/o Wii Fit)… you get the picture.
Over the weekend, DH pointed out that I haven’t been eating much lately. I can’t say that I’ve really noticed, but after he mentioned it, I payed more attention to what I was eating. It turns out that I’ve been eating like a bird and this is not like me at all. Yesterday, I barely ate anything at breakfast and studied right through lunch. When I realized it was past 1:30, I thought, “gee, I should eat something.” I bought a turkey bacon club but only managed to choke down half of it, despite it being rather delicious. I even bought myself a piece of puffed wheat cake but I didn’t want it after I was done forcing that offending sandwich down my throat. Blasphemous! Me, turn down puffed wheat cake??? Something’s up.
As I mentioned, I’m a stress eater. Therefore, being SO stressed that I have no appetite, well, it’s never happened to me before. I have to assume it’s stress that’s causing this, because if it’s not, then it’s gotta be cancer (I’m a med student, remember… everything boils down to something serious). Interestingly enough, I don’t even feel that stressed: Usually I’m freaking out about something, or on the verge of tears, or *stuffing my face with carbohydrate goodness,* but I’m not doing any of those things. Instead, I’m just slowly shrinking away from the inside out.
I know I’m stressed about my upcoming exams; it is only the most demanding exam period I will have in all of medical school (until the licensing exam, that is). A. has been sick in some way or another for at least the last 10 days. While I’ve been feeling bad for him that he’s sick, I’m also getting extremely tired of having a whiney, clingy, difficult two-year old on my hands, all. the. time. (His illness, as of late, has also exponentially contributed to the laundry problem in our house). E. is only 8 months old, so I haven’t actually had a full, uninterrupted night of sleep since he was born (and who am I kidding, probably for at least 2 months before that too). He is also sick. And teething. DH is in a post-graduate program that is quite demanding on his time, so he has about as much spare time as I do – I can’t rely on him too much to pick up my slack at home. And to top it all off, I made my life a little more complicated last week by *hand delivering* the letter that I wrote to my mentor. We had a nice chat (it turns out I was accurate in my assumptions), I asked her to not read the letter in front of me, and I also told her that she didn’t need to get back to me right away (upon giving her the letter, I made it sound worse than it was, so she wondered if it was something she needed to call me about right away…). While I felt good about the decision to give her the letter, and I was happy with our little chat, I was hoping to get some kind of reply from her when she had the time. Sadly, it’s been almost a week, and not a single peep. Not even a text. I would be lying if I said this wasn’t on my mind right now, as well.
I’m sure sitting here blogging instead of re-learning how to read an ECG is probably not the best way to work on reducing my stress. I did, however, make the initiative to go to my one class that I had today, in an effort to be a good med student. Unfortunately, I probably shouldn’t have gone because it only reminded me of all the stuff I don’t know and will need to know in a mere 2 weeks. The class did prove somewhat entertaining, though; it started with this “question:”
If you develop a genital ulcer, which organism would you prefer to have?
Herpes Simplex Virus, Trichomonas pallidum, Chlamydia trachomatis, Haemophilus ducreyi, or Klebsiella granulomatis
I say none. No genital ulcer for me. I don’t even care what the right answer is (and to be honest, I don’t even know what some of those organisms are…).