Wednesday, 9 December 2009


74 is the number of kilograms I now weigh. This in many ways is a good thing; Strumpetville loves a thin gayer right enough. In fact, since I started this blog I have lost some 18 kilos; almost exactly 40lbs.

If that seems a lot, gentle reader, well – it is. Actually, the ideal weight I aimed for not long after Darren dumped me was 75kg and as such I can consider this yet another string to my big pink bow.

But. This is not a boast about my rippling gorgeousness, oh no. Because after creeping back up to the 80kg mark I became ill and whilst I may not be entirely sure from where the weight was lost, I do have an idea how!

Fear not! A disgustingly detailed discussion of my symptoms is not for here. For now! But my ongoing health issues are, well, ongoing and as such my efforts to resolve them are ongoing.

I saw a doctor recently who was a bit more interested than my previous sawbones so we got a bit further than the narrow range of tests I was given before. I also have medicine which is not only controlling my symptoms a bit better but also has made my appetite come back with a vengeance. I am having some blood tests done shortly,, and then after that off to the hospital for even more tests. And eventually a doctor will one day tell me exactly what is wrong. Crohn’s disease? MS? The leading contenders – but we shall see.

What does worry me a lot is Fella. His mother is chronically sick and it impacts our relationship because as his father travels for business he dutifully looks after her when she is on her own. It causes him some difficulty, and although he does this with all good humour he hardly needs me falling apart on him. It isn’t… fair on him. He’s ignored the issue when I’ve raised it – sensibly, really, as it was only a bout of self pity that made me do that. Yet I worry still.

Damn, damn, damn. I’m 32. The life expectancy of a 32 year old man in Strumetville is a staggering 91 years. How, or more importantly why, I cannot say... I was hoping for a little more mileage before I really began falling apart though. Good job I came out when I did. Still, the next 58 years might be a bit more fun if I could have a drink – it’s currently a major major trigger for biological unpleasantness, which is a bugger. Fortunately that isn’t a trigger at all so all is not lost.


Monty said...

Well, you're the same weight as me now! Hope your health holds up and it isn't anything too serious! Big hug!

Mike said...

Ah, the same weight as you... good to know; I know you;ve worked hard and have had a personal trainer etc. And that you have enjoyed, shall we say, the fruits of your labour :-)

Hell, it'll be what it'll be. And i've got long time for it to be in. Woo... hoo? LOL

Antony said...

Congratulations with achieving your ideal weight, allbeit partly through illness.

Your fella sounds like he's dealing with his mothers illness and your by simply soldiering as normal.

I wouldn't worry about him too much. He chooses to be with you. In fact recognise and thank his continued support. As there's a lot of fickle, uncaring people out there. At least you know you've bagged one of the caring ones.

And whatever illness you may or may not have, I have every confidence in your ability to manage it. To deal with it and let it have the least impact on your life possible. The key I think is in getting a diagnosis so you know how to look after yourself.

My love as always,

A x x