I hit a new milestone today. This is about what I weighed 42 years ago when I got married. I hadn't planned to ever be under 200 lbs again...oh, who is kidding who? I just wanted to hit 250.
During Covid, my weight climbed to 333, my highest (and lowest) point of my life. Something had to be done and since I didn't want surgery, it was the once a week injections. I started with Ozempic. It had done amazing things for my sweetie.
Slowly, it began it's work on me. My weight slid to 270 and stayed there for a while. We upped my dose, tweaked a few other meds and I hit 250.
My sweetie and I were both trying very hard when the new year rolled around. We were hoping for great things in 2025.
It was the end of March and I had switched to Mounjaro. Things were finally rolling again and my weight crept steadily down. My sweetie bought me new clothes and life seemed pretty perfect.
Then he got sick.
I guess that helped me lose more weight, but by then I didn't care much. It's not like I was losing weight for him, but I guess I was a little. He had always told me I was beautiful, but I didn’t always believe him.
I was this big when I lost him 10 months ago.
This is me now.
In the Bingham shirt. My oldest sister is in the purple shirt. She has lost about 100 lbs as well. This isn't a commercial for taking injections, but they have worked for me. My body is more healthy and moves more quickly, but I am still tired and I feel every one of my 61 years. Being a widow will always make me feel old, I think, but I'm pretty sure my sweetie would be proud of me. If I listen really hard, I can still hear his beloved voice telling me I'm beautiful.
And it makes me smile.
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