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Back to me

Back to you? I wasn’t aware you ever left the subject?

There are people in my life, people I love dearly, who’ve been dealing with issues that don’t revolve around me, and it felt wrong to hold the usual self-hate-fest during their time of loss and sorrow.

So I’ve been holding out on the rest of you.

I’ve been tinkering with a post on depression – what it ultimately means to me – but I’m not happy with it yet. I’ll share it with you soon.

In the mean time I thought I’d give you a little status update.

Single father week ends today. Cheryl and Beth are flying back in from New Hampshire this evening, and I can’t wait to see them. Although they’ve been gone, and a piece of my heart went with them, this last week has been kind of special. This week I got to focus my attention on Adam, and all things considered, we’ve had a great week.

We haven’t done anything special. I didn’t try to buy his affection with regular trips to McDonald’s. We just hung out. When it was time to do chores, he jumped in without asking wanting to help. When spare moments appeared we took advantage with spontaneous acts of fun. Slipper toss was an unexpected blast.

My goal in life is to be this kind of father all the time – to be the kind of father who finds love and joy in the little moments of life. Depression knocks me off the rails at times, but I think this week came at just the right time. I didn’t have to divide my time. Adam got a full dose of his crazy daddy and we were both better for it.

Another piece of encouraging news: my weight seems to have leveled off the last few weeks. For the first time since October my weight plot looks like a flat line rather than a winter olympics event. Wether it’s been the medication, circumstances, or working hard to focus on the important things in my life, my appetite has slowly returned. The unintended weight loss is holding at 50 pounds. Although I wasn’t trying, it’ll probably be good for me in the long run… if I don’t put it right back on.

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Is it getting lighter in here?

There’s a chance you won’t like me a few sentences from now.

I’ve lost almost 40 pounds this year, but I haven’t been trying.

Some of you know I have regular blood tests – and not because you’re my doctor. One day I may regret speaking so openly about myself. So much for my dream of one day being named ambassdor to Iceland. Although they’ve always given me a clean bill on the cancer front, they’re setting off klaxons on the metabolism front. Alright, it’s really not that bad, but I like the word klaxon.

Red meats are off the menu, as are many sugars and starches. I carefully track the foods I eat on a dandy little app on my phone. That’s how I know. Eight pm rolls around and I’m often WAY under my recommended calorie intake for the day. Many nights I’m breaking out the snacks just to get within a couple hundred calories of where I should be. And I’m not hungry.

I’m not starving myself. I eat little (healthy) snacks throughout the day. My doctor was surprised by my weight loss, but not alarmed, so maybe I shouldn’t worry. But 40 pounds? My weight got a little out of control after I got out of the hospital two years ago, but I wasn’t close to obese. Now twenty percent of my body is gone. What if there was something in that fifth I liked?

I’m going to need more reassurance from my doctor the next time I see her. Don’t get me started with the insurance problems I’m having with my oncologist. I’ve cancelled my last two appointments waiting for the contract to be finalized between my insurance company and his new practice. Cheryl’s gonna have a nervous breakdown and order me to pay the damn bill as a self-pay patient.

Oops! I guess I got started.

People who know my history come up to me with concern in their eyes. “Are you ok? You look like you’ve lost a lot of weight.” I’m not sure how to answer. Do I tell them the truth? “I think I’m ok, and I appretiate the concern and all, but you’re freaking me out a little.”