I’ll be here ’til I’m not.

May 28, 2006 at 7:32 PM (cancer, On Being Fat) (Disability)

Every so often (more often than I like) I have to wrestle with people who mean well.

I was a person who ate too much of what is known as “junk food.” That was at least three years gone, and possibly further back than that. By 1998 I realized I was severely lactose intolerant and that caffeinated soda (yes, diet sodas too) made me almost as ill as milk did.

Now, I don’t have “junk food” in my house, because my roomate is a type II diabetic.

Also, due to a medical condition, the things I ought to eat are rather limited, cutting across what the rest of the world sees as “bad” (Limit servings of high sugar, high fat food because I get ill if I don’t. ), as well as quite a few foods that the world cannot believe aren’t “healthy,” for me, (only allowed to eat small servings at the end of the meal of: raw or cooked veggies, items high in whole grain, citric acid or tomato based sauces, or fruit) and rarely or *never* (foods high in insolulble fiber, nuts, seeds, or fruit with seeds in it like strawberries, popcorn, caffienated drinks, dairy without Lactaid, [milk, milk based sauces, milk in baked goods, cheeses,yogurt, ice cream. ] Provided I have Lactaid with me, a single slice of cheese on a sandwich or a small amount of milk used in cooking a sauce or baked good is fine, but I have to be paranoid about labels or recipes.

I’m still extremely overweight and likely to remain that way. But, my health is good, my blood pressure low.

To everyone who when seeing me, feels they *must* weigh in (shudder.)

I’m not stupid, and I know what my family history contains, in terms of health problems. Unlike some others I can look them in the face and admit to them in public.

I’ll be here till I’m not, and if I can figure out a way to schedule some exersize, (Work makes me tired, and I find it extremely hard to motivate myself to do more than that eight hour shift…) perhaps continue to come down more than the forty pounds I’ve already lost.

I can’t stress this enough.

I’ll be here ’til I’m not. That’s okay. Really.

I wasn’t expected to survive when I was born with bad vision and cerebral palsy. I did.

I was married to someone with a terminal illness I could have caught myself. I didn’t catch it because I can read labels on prophylactics and I was quite lucky.

I had cancer. I had to take medicine that made me gain 100 pounds to *survive* as part of my chemotherapy.I’ve survived more than fifteen years since my diagnosis, and more than 14 years since my last appointment with my hometown oncologist when he said I was in remission.

I’m still here, and I really wish family and friends would focus on the full part of the glass, rather than *their* expectations I have not met.

I’ll be here ’till I’m not, and if you’re not happy with how I’m handling now, that’s your problem.