Summer 2013 - Part 3 - So close

So here I am. In the hospital standing on the scales of doom. The nurse tells me again to stand still and I try not to roll my eyes. She also looks at the height measure attached to the scales and I'm tempted to stand on my tiptoes but I'd probably wobble and fall over. If only I'd carried on with ballet! God, if I did it now I'd look like the hippo from Fantasia! I try my best to keep still and the nurse leaves me on the scales and wanders round to her desk and taps on her calculator whilst looking at BMI charts.

'Well, you're BMI is now around 30.05.'

It needs to be below 30. I won't lie but for some reason I wanted to punch her. It was perhaps my hormones but I felt, and do still feel a little, that she was slightly smug when she said it. I'm sure it was just me or that she had got sick of the sight of me. I perhaps deserved the look she gave me. I mean it's me that can't stop eating cake, not her. I don't think she's ever seen a cake!

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.

Summer 2013

So having been probed and flushed I really have to get my finger out of my backside and get down to my target weight! After my latest operation one of the nurses suggests I book in for regular weight checks so I keep on track and hopefully stop myself cheating too often. I do as I'm told and find myself going to be weighed every few weeks.

My husband, close friends and work colleagues are very supportive, as are some of my family. Unfortunately, I feel some people in my life aren't as supportive as they could or should be and the sly comments about me always dieting and falling off the wagon can be heard, loud and clear. I'm well aware of my dieting mistakes over the last few years and I'm the one that has to live with them. I'm the one that has it on my conscience that I have not lost the weight, not made myself a mother or made my husband a father. I battled on regardless ignoring them the best I can.