Day Two

December 2nd, 2017

It’s late, really late.

Today has been an extremely busy day. Three parades, Santa Claus, adorable children, a fall, driving two-plus hours, now bed.

Seriously, that was my whole day.

I’m tired. I’m sore. I’m ready for the comfort of my pillows.

However, I refuse to give up on day two this year. I’ve promised myself a beautiful lipstick if I write 20 out of 31 days. I really want that lipstick.

So, the fall. It seems that I will never be graceful. As I was crutching from my scooter to our stairs (gimp scooter, no ramp, you do the math) I fell.


I landed in an odd position with my head pointed down the hill that is our front yard. I slowly checked all my bones, my arm, my hip. There seemed to be no breaks.

I slowly gathered all my crap. Two cameras, a recorder, my basket full of various items that flew everywhere and set it all to the side. Then contemplation over how I was actually going to get off the ground.

You see being gimpy with lymphedema and fat and having muscle issues with my legs makes getting up from a fall difficult. I moved the gimp scooter, or scooter of whee if you are from my KoL friends, beside me, spun around, and got up.

Hmm, not easy, my right leg still doesn’t bend all the way, probably never will again. But, it was easier than when I fell in my laundry room 75 pounds ago.

So while I can barely see it on my face, can feel it a bit in my clothes, I can feel it a lot when I’m trying to get off the ground. Hell yeah.

This isn’t without some shame and feeling like I’m giving up on fat acceptance and that community. I worry that I am doing harm by doing this.

I have been a strong supporter of fat acceptance. Not necessarily health at every/any size as I believe in science and fat does have health effects for many us.

When I am counting calories and working my ass off exercising I feel guilt. Then, I think about how hard it is on my muscles that are screwed up, how hard it is on my lymphedema to have all the extra weight, how much I just want to feel better and it’s worth it.

I’ll never be skinny. It’s not going to happen. I have lipedema which causes fat gain, mainly in the lower body, and is pretty much impossible to get rid of, so there will always be that.

I want to keep working on this though. I want to be healthier. I want to be stronger. I want to feel better.

I’m 42 years old. It is well past time to take care of myself. We talk about self-care a lot in the circles I run in, yet so often I don’t take care of myself first. Everyone else comes before me.

That doesn’t work any longer. I have to come first.

It’s time.


Day One 2017 Holidailies

December 1st, 2017

Here it is late in the evening of day one of 2017 Holidailies and I almost missed it.

Day one. Sigh.

Okay, I have good reasons for it this year. I’ve been busy today.

Today, December First, 2017, is the ninth anniversary of my nephrectomy. The surgery that took my right kidney, and the big ass tumor it held, out of me and saved my life.

Nine years. Wow. That is pretty much beyond belief. When I was first diagnosed in September of 2008 I was sure that I wouldn’t live a year.

Here we sit at nine years and getting better. I went to two doctors today. My PCP  for my every four months check up.

Diabetic, so I have to go in that often. Today, I got great news at her office.

First, my A1C is trending down finally. I had a time of it this year with it being such a rough year. We lost my Father-in-Law in April and that has affected every single thing the rest of the year.

I’m not going to dwell on that today. I’ll write about him soon.

Second good news today. I have lost 75 pounds. I have finally gotten serious about my health and I am eating properly. Veggies, fruits, and lean protein. Salads with salsa as dressing.

I’m enjoying this way of eating, too. It’s odd. I have a cheat day every couple of weeks and the most recent one? Well, the bad food tasted bad.

I don’t know what to think about that. Am I changing my taste buds enough that  I won’t want any of that stuff?

This is new territory for me. Normally when I lose any weight I start to panic and end up eating it back on. Not this time. Mentally I am ready to lose it.

Really? This is me? When I last headed down this path I couldn’t handle it. I’m ready for this change. I’m ready to feel better.

This isn’t about how I look. I really just want to feel better.

I mean, I’ll never be skinny. I have lipedema which causes fat to collect and grow from my waist down. It’ll be a fight to get any of it off, but I’m damn sure going to try.

Welcome to day one. I’m glad you’re here.




November 17th, 2017

I just posted this to Facebook, ”

I’m working on myself, mentally, physically, personally.

A large part of this is just hard work and it sucks. I’m doubting myself in ways I never have before.

However, I will come through all of this self-reflection a better person. Or if not better, the person I should be.”

I mean this. Physically I am working on eating better, working out again (yes, even from a chair, I used to exercise a lot,) and losing weight. My eventual goal there is weight loss surgery to get to a smaller plus size. When I tried this a few years ago I was not ready mentally to move forward with the surgery.

I feel like I am finally there. My eating has been good, I’ve been exercising, taking my medications, etc. Even as mentally I was falling apart, physically I have been trying.

Over the weekend, as I was in Ohio with my nerd family, I ate and drank with abandon, but I’m back on track now. Tracking, eating in my calorie counts and moving back toward my goals. I’m down about 45 pounds since the start of this journey. I have several pairs of pants that have already been moved to the nope pile.

Mainly because they fall down when I’m moving. I use crutches when I’m walking, I can not hold up my pants and walk.

Mentally, well, it has been a hard year. We lost my father-in-law in April to lung cancer, even prior to his death I was heading down a bad spiral.

I have suffered from depression my entire adult life. There are times when it goes into remission and I get on with life. Other times I depend on medication. The last time medication passed my lips for it was a couple years ago.

While I know it is there if I need it, medication destroys my ability to write.

That’s a problem as that is half of what I do for a living.

I have been doing all sorts of mental exercises, physical exercises, writing exercises to work on myself.

Recently, I was on a precipice of bad. My emotions were all over the place, the blackness was taking back over, it was not good.

Today, I am better. Today, I am good.

Last weekend helped. I got to spend a weekend away from my stressors, my job, my family, his family, just life here. I got to forget a lot and drink and hang out and just be my nerdy weird self.

All of this in an environment where I am accepted for who I am, enfolded in nerdy love, and just happy.

(This is all thanks to a dear friend of mine, R, who gave me the money to go to Ohio. We had canceled our plans, he saw I was drowning, he came to the rescue. Thank you, my dear sweet friend.)

Multiple days of just being Suzy. Not reporter, not Mrs. Smith, not Ruthi’s daughter, or Jean’s daughter-in-law, not his one’s aunt, or that ones, aunt.

I was just myself.

It was glorious.

I came back and I’ve been working harder on myself, mentally. Working the steps of getting my emotions and mind back to where I want them to be.

There is no getting around doing this, there is no way to do this halfway.

It sucks. It is hard. It has made me cry, but it will bring me out the other side the person I want to be. Or more accurately, the person I am, that I do not allow let myself be.

It’s going to be a bumpy ride. You might want to put your table up and buckle your seatbelts.


Scenes from the Colonial Beach Municipal Pier

October 16th, 2017


Colonial Beach BikeFest (part four)

October 15th, 2017
An older white man in a straw cowboy hat, sitting in a wheelchair, waves.

A vet cheers on the Artimus Pyle Band

a white woman with hair in a large wild bun sings into a microphone while playing guitar.

Hannah Wicklund and the Steppin’ Stones rocked the Sunday afternoon stage

Colonial Beach BikeFest is a four day event around Columbus Day weekend.


3 whire man stand on stage.

From left to right, Bryan Coffman, Steve “Smurf” Keene and Jay Haiden on stage at the Fourth Annual Colonial Beach BikeFest



a white man with hair flying in the wind plays guitar.

Pat Travers plays on the Sunday Colonial Beach BikeFest stage