Another New Year’s Cliché

A new year is always an appropriate time to reflect on the year that has gone by and to think about our goals, wishes and hopes for the year to come. Last week, as my husband and I went on our last date night of 2015, we toasted to what a good year it had been.

After my diagnosis and surgery for uterine cancer in 2014, we were more than happy to drink to 2015—a year of relatively good health for us and our loved ones, of wonderful vacations both with family and with friends, and of great progress made by our children emotionally, socially and academically. As I joked, “We started the year together. We ended the year together. That’s a pretty good year.”

But, of course, nothing is ever perfect.

Making a resolution about wanting to get healthier—to eat better and exercise more—is so cliché. And I hate resolutions. But I need to face reality. And the reality is I do need to get healthier.

My clothes aren’t fitting as well. I can’t remember the last time my engagement ring fit me. Even my watch is tight.

More upsetting is that while I used to get out of breath climbing the stairs from the first floor kitchen to the third floor playroom, now I sometimes get short of breath going from the kitchen to my second floor bedroom.

And over vacation, as she shared that a friend who is a doctor told her that being overweight can lead to a recurrence of cancer, my mom started crying, “Alissa, I don’t want to lose you.”

I think that’s the one that put me over the edge and made me admit that losing weight is no longer an option, but a necessity.

I asked my cardiologist if my cancer surgery and the related health issues could have worsened my heart function. The good news is that he thinks not; he believes my weight gain could be responsible for the shortness of breath and endurance problems. The bad news is that means only I have the power (if not the willpower) to fix it.

So many factors may have led up to my current state. The health issues I had last year meant that I spent nearly five months pretty much sitting on a couch (and eating all those post-surgery goodies friends baked for me). The hysterectomy that cured my uterine cancer brought on medical menopause and the decreasing metabolism that comes with it. A side effect of the medicine I take to help with hot flashes is that it makes you feel really unmotivated. And those darn people at Hershey keep making Kit Kats, Kisses and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.

This is not a new issue for me. Looking back at my posts for ACHA, I have written about my desire or my effort to lose weight at least four times (such as here, here, here and here). I don’t know what will make this time different. I don’t know if it will be different. It’s a scary prospect. I know it will be work. Hard work. There will be ups and downs. Good days and bad ones. But when your cardiologist, your mom and your own inner voice tell you this is affecting your heart and your longevity, you know you have to listen.

So hello 2016. Let’s try this one more time . . .