W321

As for things I’ve done – I could go out on a limb and say I’ve done a lot of the crazy things out there. I know one inevitable truth. Fatness will kill me if I don’t make a change.

This weekend sucked ass. Like royally.

If you’ve been following this blog… and idk why you would have unless you’re a russian spambot or russian twitter troll but let’s say a real person has been reading this blog then you know about the ups and downs of my weight – that’s the whole purpose of the blog.

Three weeks ago, I started having some fluid build up in my feet and ankles. I wasn’t worried, just elevated them… but no change. Went on vacation and no change despite walking. Came back, no change. Then last Thursday a cough. Friday cough worsened and when I laid down fluid. I figured with the phlegm and productive cough probably a URI with excessive fluid buildup… no bigs. I went to urgent care saturday because friday night i was awake all night coughing. Urgent Care… well, I waited forever for them to say “go to the ER we think you have CHF” I don’t have CHF. in march I was cleared of CHF. I have excessive fluid, my heart is fine. “go to the ER we’ll call them”

I go to the ER… they didn’t care that someone called. I waited with everyone else. I wasn’t a fucking rush, I could’ve waited at my doctor’s office or a goddamned taco bell. take a number, we’ll page a table vibrator thing when we’re ready for you.  So, I wanted some help for a URI to quit fucking coughing, and I was in the ER because some fucknut wouldn’t listen and thought my heart was dying even though I fucking knew better. 9:30am to 4:30pm – the doctor said the same fucking thing I did. he prescribed Lasix for the water then sent me on my way (after the blood work, an xray, and exam of course).

At this time… I’m tired of being fat… again. More than normal. I’ve been fat for a while. I was done at 270, but apparently not done enough. Getting out of the hospital in april 2017 wasn’t done enough. I gained 50 pounds in a few weeks and my diet was fucking perfect. I don’t know how that fucking happens but fuckoff world. Eat right, workout right, gain 50 fucking pounds… fuck you. Eat like shit, don’t workout, and don’t gain weight… that’s how the year since has been.

But I’m tired of being 331 pounds. I get winded walking up stairs. I get winded changing my underwear. On vacation I walked 5 miles a day. I liked it. I had to stop every 1/4 mile or less because my lower back hurt or my feet or legs hurt. I’m too heavy to be walking. I’m too heavy to be sitting – my legs are filling with fluid because I sit all day. I’m just too heavy. I can’t ride my motorcycle for too long because it compresses my lower spine causing the most painful experience when I stand up and then rides after that are the worst. So last week after we got home I decided I was going to lose weight.

At the ER I’d been reading Presto! if potatoes worked for Penn then why not… Fat is going to kill me one day – I might as well get rid of the last 15 years and do it now. I’m going to die by fat or I’m going to die some other way. I’d rather die trying than not wake up. And right now my heart appears to be healthy enough to try something so … fuck it I’m a CroNut.

Just potatoes, and water for 14 days

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