Here I go again, whinging about my weight. Over the past few weeks, I contracted pneumonia and had to be hospitalized for 5 days. The worst 5 days of my life. Suffice to say, it was an experience that I wouldn’t want to repeat. Having said that, the one thing I was grateful for was that in those 5 days, I had lost 2 kgs because I was so terribly ill.
I paid for it, though, once I was discharged from the hospital and went back to stay at my parents’ house for a few days. My mum stuffed me with food to make up for all the nutrients I had lost, and before long, I was back to my original weight. On top of that, I started putting on weight because I had stopped taking my hormone medication (through laziness and forgetfulness), so in the past 2 weeks, I’ve added on a doleful 2 kgs to my frame. Sob sob. Isn’t there some diet pill that works out there?! I want some!
I have a personal weight management coach, by the way, and I relayed to her the sad news that I had put on weight. Sweet girl that she was, she goaded me on with such enthusiasm and optimism, telling me, it’s ok, this is only a minor setback, you just need to work harder. Leaving me with instructions to drink lots of water, and to get some fresh air if I could spare the time, she promised to come by to my office to see me on Thursday, just to catch up on things.
Sigh. The things that we do in the quest to look beautiful.