It has taken a couple of years, but I finally got rid of the
baby fat. Most of it, anyway. And, OK, it has really taken a couple of decades.
All it took was some dire warnings from my doctor, diet, exercise and a non-functioning
thyroid. The thyroid has been non-functioning for a long time and I have
dutifully been taking my thyroid hormone pills for years. What happened this
year was the combination of losing weight and not eating within 3 hours of
bedtime sent my thyroid hormone levels into the “overmedicated zone.” Now, with
my body functions set on high speed, my blood pressure went up, I was beset
with anxiety, and weight began to melt off me. This went on for 6 months as the
doctor and I tried to reduce my dose of medication enough to match my weight
loss and return my body to a “normal” state. The result was a total loss of
between 30 and 35 pounds; which included a lot of my hair falling out, a lovely
side effect of thyroid issues that I have experienced several times over the
Thankfully, things seemed to have balanced out, I am at a
steady weight for a couple of months now, and my hair is slowly coming back. My
blood pressure is great, no more meds for that. Still dealing with anxiety
issues, but hopefully, that will fade away also.
So, finally, I can deal with the actual “fun” stuff
associated with weight loss. Every week I have been looking at another drawer
or armful of clothes, selling some of the few higher end things, and donating
lots of stuff to Goodwill. Now that the cooler weather is here, I am still
surprised when I pull a blazer or pair of pants out of the closet and realize
they are huge on me. It has been hard to part with some of my favorites.
Emptying out the undies drawer was an adventure. Let’s just say, for most of my
adult life my bras have occupied a lot of real estate in the dresser. Their cup
sizes represented letters not usually mentioned when one thinks of bra sizes.
The straps of these bras were as thick and sturdy as some women’s belts, and
many of them contained areas of gel padding and extra rows of hooks. Out they went. Don’t misunderstand, their
replacements still come from the “full figure” category, but no longer from the
“available only online” area. Even my leggings, once stretched within
millimeters of decency, now resemble skinny pants, and some can no longer be
worn. All this is to be expected when
one goes down 2-4 sizes in clothes.
However, something strange is going on with my footwear.
Several pairs of shoes are now flopping around on my feet. My actual shoe size
hasn’t changed, so did my extra weight just stretch these shoes out somehow? I
never noticed my feet actually being swollen or anything. And seriously, these
are my FAVORITE shoes, and you just don’t get rid of favorite shoes. I’ve begun
investing in heel pads and other such shoe accessories to try and keep them on
It is possible that the shoe problem is related somehow to
what I have now recognized as my magic socks.
I work in an office; so having around 6 or 7 identical pairs of black
trouser socks is a requirement. When they start wearing out around the toes I
just replace them with another couple of pairs of the same socks. Recently,
these socks have been performing tricks on me. As I am walking around the
office, these socks start to move around. I can feel them sliding down my
ankles into my shoes where they start to bunch up at the arch of my foot. When
I look down at my feet, it looks like I am trying to smuggle tiny shar-peis in
my shoes. If I don’t stop to pull them back up, my heels are soon bare and
cold. Maybe you think I have stretched out these socks with my previously huge
feet. However, that is not the case. They still have their shape and
elasticity. If I didn’t have my shoes on
I think they would just keep sliding down until they fell off my feet
The only logical conclusion is that after sticking with me
through the past months of doctor visits, medication adjustments, test after
test and sleepless nights, my socks have taken it upon themselves to give me
some humor therapy. They must think this sliding off my feet bit is hilarious; the footwear equivalent of a whoopee cushion. Who knows what other items of
clothing might join in on this? Already I have a couple of pairs of pants that keep
trying to fall down if I don’t remember to belt them, and some shirts and
dresses whose necklines keep trying to plunge to belly button level.
Ho Ho, Ha Ha, wardrobe, you got me! Now stop clowning