Summer 2013 - Part 2 - You just need a big poo

After my last visit to the hospital I feel I'm nearing the finish line. Yes, I have a couple of pound hurdles to go but the target is realistic and I'm not a million miles away from it. I battle to get the last few pounds off before my next weight appointment.

I walk into the hospital so sure I have finally done it. With my husband at my side I am sure I have. My scales say I have. I must have. Bad news. I haven't. It's a different nurse to before. I have met her previously and I know this one isn't as friendly and doesn't look like she has seen a cream cake or bar of chocolate EVER! I had hoped it was the one from last time but sadly it's not. She works out my BMI and it is around 30.1. It has to be below 30 for NHS treatment. As she did last year, she points out that I do now meet the requirements for private treatment if I'm willing to pay! I am gutted and I'm sure my husband is too. He somehow remains upbeat and I make an appointment to return in a couple of weeks.

On a brighter note as the nurse looks over my file she notices my blood tests are on the boarderline of whether I need IUI or just medication to help my ovulation. The nurse goes on to explain that of all the many blood tests I have had to check my cycle, the one taken near ovulation is given a value or score. Anything below a certain number needs IUI or IVF, dependant on your circumstances and other fertility issues. Anything on the number or above will be given medication to help strengthen the ovulation.  My score is right on the line. She explains that my score could be better but the blood test has to be taken on the exact right day. If your as little as a day out your score is wrong. I am at the right point in my cycle to have another blood test before I go back to be weighed again, so the nurse fills out a test envelope and sends me on my way. Leaving we both have a mix of emotions and go to Ikea for breakfast. No, Katie, not the best idea at all!

I go and have the blood test soon after my appointment and return a couple of weeks later to be weighed again. I work my arse off to drop the last couple of pounds. For the two days before all I have to eat, well drink, is Slim Fast. It's not the best of ideas and is obviously not the best for me nutritionally but I am now so close I feel completely desperate. If I don't do this now I never will. I will spend years going round in circles.

My work colleagues are incredibly supportive and keep me on the straight and narrow whilst I am at work. They keep the biscuits away from me and give me lots of encouragement. They are adamant that if I am close to my goal at my next weigh in that I stand my ground, cry, get on the scales butt naked etc. I am incredible lucky to have these ladies in my life. Not just for the laughs but for their priceless advice and reassurance. My phone is full of texts from them, as well as friends and family wishing me luck on the morning of my next weigh in.

Unfortunately, all is not well on the day. I have started my period and am weighing the same as the day of my last weigh in. Gutted isn't even the word. According to my scales and the Wii I had lost more than enough. I throw a hissy fit and my husband does his best to reassure me. I go on the cross-trainer for as long as my body can handle it, which isn't long having not eaten properly for days. I refuse to drink any water and tip my wardrobe out looking for the lightest clothes I have.

When we arrive at the hospital it's the same nurse as before. I explain I am on my period and that I always weigh heavier and ask her to allow for this. She doesn't seem amused. I take off my shoes, cardigan and glasses and check myself over for anything else I can remove.

I get on the scales and immediately get into trouble for looking down. The nurse, in her nice but stern way tells me to stand up straight, head up and to stop moving around.

'Right' she says. 'Now for today's result'...........

Katie
xxxx