My weight went way up this last fall, and my clothes don't fit. So, I am counting calories yet again. The reward has been constant soreness at the waistline.
This is not a non-sequitur. Let's muddy the waters even further.
For my 50th birthday, a few years ago, I was gifted with the first pot-belly, beer-gut, tummy or what ever you want to call it, in my life. The flip side of that development was a loss of fat below the navel. Yeah, whatever.
After the diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis, my neuro talked me into BetaSeron. It worked, but soon I was covered with little bruises on my arms, legs, bottom and lower tummy. In the summer, I learned to shoot only on the lower belly, and stocked up on tank suits, gave up on shortie shirts, hip hugger jeans, the like. But, hey, the darned stuff put me into remission. And between the navel and groin there was plenty of soft, female fat to go around. Think Venus de Milo.
Unfortunately, BetaSeron zeroed out those important little numbers that indicate how well my immune system was protecting me. Neuro wanted me to go on Copaxone, but I resisted. After a while I lost so much ground that I relented.
Now I have little swollen spots all over my belly, and down into my groin. Frankly, I refuse to inject anywhere else. Flat out refuse.
So here's the thing. This time around, now that I am menopausal (God, that sounds gross...), I seem to only be keeping fat at the waist (in a strange raised circle around the navel), upper arms (kimono sleeves), and butt (a signature of the Paquette side of the family tree). I am losing the fat in my groin. Not "nicely thin," but skin sort of hanging from the area. Pooch, anyone?
The swollen spots really hurt, and they last, hurting all the while, for about a week. I can't shoot the upper arms, because off all the nerve damage, years before the diagnosis, done by shots to cure all my allergies. Those shots most decidedly did not work, were also very painful and lasted weeks and weeks, leaving me with underarms that tingle constantly.
And how the heck would I shoot the fat under my arm, anyway? I will not involve my husband, because I couldn't stand the sight of him during those upper arm shots, some 20 years ago. Not his fault, poor guy...
All right, all you successful, experienced shooters out there! Some help?
Angry Planet: the second honeymoon continues.