With pleasure comes pain. The bacon butties and biscuits I have happily munched on since working for the builder have wreaked havoc on my figure, my muffin top morphing from a skinny raspberry into a full-blown, full-fat double chocolate chip with whipped cream on the side.
I had to face the awful reality that it was time for one of the most humiliating and sad events in any woman’s life.
Nope, I wasn’t going to join a slimming club, I was going jeans shopping. Guaranteed to strike fear into the heart, I was going to be very brave and thank my lucky stars that communal changing-rooms had been outlawed in the 1990’s, along with shoulder pads, dodgy perms and ra-ra skirts.
And so I found myself wandering around shops where the sales assistants were young, hip and terrifyingly thin, showcasing the latest hot-off-the press fashion looks. I furtively flicked through the rails, depressingly starting at the back where the larger sizes huddled in shame. A quick glance round and I shoved a couple of pairs over my arm, cleverly tucking the size labels inwards.
Off to the changing room where a tiny sylph-like creature smirked as she slowly counted my items, handed me a plastic disc and waved me off to a cubicle towards the back. Half an hour later, I was red-faced, exhausted and depressed. Whoever said skinny jeans suit everyone clearly lied.
My MS balance (or lack of it) turned trying on five pairs of jeans into a farce. One leg in and I was pinballing off the sides of the cubicle. Two legs in and I was jumping around like a demented person on a pogo-stick.
When I could finally stand still, I was lucky enough to see my sorry figure from numerous angles, many of which I had never seen before, thanks to the eight different mirrors. I really do need to pick up that kettlebell for longer than three minutes at a time.
I found a pair I could live with, handed it over at the cash desk, not fooling the girl at all when I announced, ‘Oh, I’m sure my friend will love these!’ I left the store, turned a sharp right and headed for sanctuary. A coffee shop, where I ordered a large latte with an extra shot and the biggest muffin I could find…
Ditto! I keep saying to myself that my growing waist line is my recent steroid treatment but hey I’ve had them before and I’ve never gained a muffin waist so who am I kidding! At least you have worked for yours. Up a roof in wind and rain to me deserves a muffin, latte and a large glass of wine later. It’s a long time since I’ve been in a changing room but I do remember those mirrors and the shock of seeing my body in eh 4d ! Whoever thought of those shouldn’t be employed by the retail industry they made me flee and without the clothes I was going to buy. They should have the ones that make you look better. Really these do exist. I was with my sister in Spain once and looking in the mirror I thought we’ll girl your starting to look like your old self again(after a prolonged stint of steroids) on arriving home and looking in the mirror the next day I exclaimed to my daughter “that’s not how I looked in Spain” facing me was those lovely laughter lines,tired eyes and a not so young looking face. Who was I kidding lol!! But I do wish I could get a hold of those Spanish mirrors…
Hi Anita!
Oh, I do think the steroids play a part – my weight rocketed after a couple of rounds of them and I never lost it. Also, the pregabalin makes you hungrier!
Am all finished working on the roof – half day, yay! Can’t wait to kick back with a couple of glasses of white later. Am off on study week all next week, so am sure all my lovely exercise will be wasted, so perhaps I need to pick up that darned kettlebell again. Sigh.
WHY don’t we have those Spanish mirrors here? I would love one for my house. Could convince myself I am suave and svelte even when I’m not, lol.
X
Hello,
Just returned from an MS course – really depressed cos dietician said that biscuits and dairy milk chocolate are really bad news for MS sufferers as is caffeine if you have a dicky bladder – I could eat them both for England and I crave for coffee. Told to eat boring things like nuts, porridge oats, and drink prune juice.
Oh well, suppose I could just ignore what I was told.
Patrick
Hey Patrick,
That’s terrible news – I couldn’t live without chocolate and biccies. Isn’t life with MS hard enough?? I reckon they should be mandatory. And the last time I drank prune juice, well, let’s just say it wasn’t pleasant.
X
Hello ,
Sorry I haven’t commented on anything lately , I just got home from the hospital again , was there for 7 days this time . But as usual great blog ,it put a big smile on my face , and I needed it . Now that’s not to say that I’m smiling at your weight gain , just the wonderful way you have at writing about the things that are on your mind !!! I guess being a guy , I just don’t let it get to me to badly, though it’s a bridge that I have crossed a few times myself . Just one BIG QUESTION ??? What the hec is a ” kettlebell” ??? (LOL)
And I also just wanted to say to Patrick , I’m sorry you were told those things at your appt , I remember the day I was told those things and I swear I wanted cry when I was told no more coffee !!! 🙁 as if we don’t already have to give up enough . But I have to admit that , though I did try , I just have never been able to give up my coffee !!! And that’s not to say that I think I’m right by not giving it up , it’s just were I decided to draw the proverbial line so to speak …. Well that’s all for now I guess , be good everyone , and it really is nice to be able to be here again and read everyone’s comments ,maybe it sounds a bit crazy but I really did miss everyone ! 🙂 <3
Hello Stranger!
Was wondering how you were?? Hope your hospital visit went ok and you feel better?
Thank you for your lovely comment. Right. A kettlebell is an instrument of torture. It looks cute and round, with a lovely handle on top. It’s a round weight basically, and you swing it madly, doing different exercises with it. Which is great in theory, but if you have nerve pain in your arms, it is barbaric. Evil. We are having a standoff at the moment. It’s right by my desk and I know I should use it, but hey. Life’s too short!
Will possibly go walking/stumbling more. See what happens, but have to lose that extra weight otherwise when I go for my second treatment in July, they’ll need a reinforced bed for me and that would not be cool…
X
You are too funny, SIF! I LOL’ed (L’edOL?) several times and even made my husband read the part about bacon butties, since he’s a fan of this delicacy ever since watching “Keeping Up Appearances.”
I can TOTALLY relate to hopping around while trying on clothes. Meh. The absolute worst, most humiliating thing to try on, though, is a bathing suit. Honestly. They should make those dressing rooms dim have one faraway mirror only. Front view. Lighting should be from sconces. Faraway sconces. Instead, these dressing rooms invariably have harsh, super-bright, from-above lights that cast hideous shadows and accentuate every ripple. Oh, yeah, and forget that one-mirror (front view) thing. Uh uh. Never happens. I’m shuddering just thinking about it.
Hiya!
You must really come to the UK on your next holiday (vacation) and I will treat you guys to the best bacon buttie in town. And also buy you a big bag of Maltesers, lol.
Luckily for me, it’s been years and years since I tried on a bathing suit. I just couldn’t put myself through the trauma. The therapy afterwards would last for years. Imagine seeing yourself in a bathing suit from eight different angles???
X
I just threw up, reading “imagine seeing yourself in a bathing suit from eight different angles.”
Is it possible to get a bacon buttie that is Swank friendly? (Fake bacon, no butter…in other words, nothing actually resembling a bacon buttie, I’m sure!) Regardless, we will plan our next European holiday to include the UK and take you up on your offer. Don’t think I’ll forget, either, missy!
p.s. I noticed my glaring and hideous error above (dressing rooms dim). I hope you were able to read through it. My sincere apologies…
When you go on vacation, throw the Swank diet to the wind!! It would be just fab for the UK to welcome Ms CrankyPants – I will telegraph the Queen to announce your arrival.
The Teenager has been pestering me to contact you to ask you to send him a whole box of American goodies, including Twinkies and five different flavours of Skittles – apparently you guys don’t just have one standard bag like we do. He has said he will pay you by PayPal or dollars, whichever you accept! Bless him. He is in awe. ‘You know an AMERICAN?????’
Anyway, I have the bacon on to fry, the roll is ready, and I’m off for a buttie. Day off work!
X
p.s. I was, ahem, being very polite about your glaring, and frankly sad error….