My hopes are not always realized,
but I always hope.
but I always hope.
Without hope, we'd never have elected Barack Obama as our President. I have to say though, right now I'm a little nervous about my hope for health insurance reform.
I guess if the public option doesn't make it to a final bill, I'll just move to scary old Great Britain, or evil old France, or – horrors! – Taiwan, fercryinoutloud, all of whom have excellent universal health coverage, as long as you're not listening to Faux News. (Next time you meet a Canadian, Brit, Aussie, Finn, Swede – you get my drift – ask them if they'd trade their health plan for what we have here in the U.S.)
But enough of that. I try to keep my political rants away from my blog. That's what Facebook is for! Heh. (Wanna friend me? djmcneer AT citynet DOT net)
Those of us working to improve our health, and particularly those of us who are doing so by trying to lose weight, have lots of hope. For a while. We're doing the right thing, following the plan, sweating to the oldies, running, walking, lifting – we're gittin' 'er done.
Except some of us aren't.
As I trudged up the first hill of my route yesterday, I happened upon a guy sitting on a bench in his front yard. We usually wave and say hi when we meet, but rarely have a conversation. I was astonished when he asked me, "Are you losing any weight?"
Of course I answered, "No," because I'm an honest kind of person. And then I said, "Maybe I'm not supposed to."
I think of my friend Nancy, who died last year at Christmastime. She and I "met" on an e-mail list for those following an Atkins diet plan. During all the years of our friendship, weight loss (and knitting) glued us together. When she got sick she lost massive amounts of weight. She looked elegant and serene and lovely. But she was ill and couldn't eat more than a bite or two of real food at a sitting. Her food had to be ground in a blender. She was nourished by a feeding tube the majority of the time, and only when she had a real hankering for the taste of something would she ask for coffee ice cream, or Jell-O, or ground-up chicken fried rice.
I keep telling myself that I used to be thin and I can get there again. Hope springs eternal, I guess. But I surely hope I don't lose weight like Nancy eventually did.
My former husband also lost massive amounts of weight during his illness, although he never really needed to do so. I'm sure you've heard the expression that the cure is worse than the disease. That, unfortunately, was his experience. (Thank you all for your kind thoughts while I was gone, by the way. I appreciate all of you so very much.)
Maybe my extra pounds are keeping me healthy. (Wouldn't that be ironic, considering that my health insurance premium is higher because I'm overweight?) Maybe I'm supposed to learn acceptance, or patience, or tolerance of my own too-large body from this challenging journey of daily exercise and healthful meals. Maybe I'm stubborn. Maybe I'm an optimist.
Maybe I'll just keep on keepin' on, and see what happens. There's that old hope thing. Again.
P.S. To contact your Senator and urge him or her to fight for the public option, go here. The drop-down menu to find your state is in the upper right-hand corner of the page. To find your Representative, go here. The contact information is in the upper left-hand corner of the page. Do it today. We can't wait any longer.