Gosh, man the lifeboats, iceberg right ahead!
Well, the iceberg is the lettuce that I'm currently chowing down on as part of my new diet to lose the half a stone that's making me feel vile; the very first diet of my life and it's bloomin horrid. I now know the true meaning of foulness; hell really is a diet!
The lifeboat is for my gigantic storm in a teacup which seems to have been the last few days. I e-mailed Tom my blog post and had a terrible day where I awaited his response and heard nothing - only to discover I'd typed his e-mail address incorrectly so some poor soul somewhere has got my entire heart poured out into their inbox.
Anyway, the upshot is that Tom was a complete rock about all of it. He was so upset that I'd been worried about everything and was utterly lovely about the whole thing. He's even booked me, my mum and my auntie into a posh local hotel for afternoon tea to cheer us up. (My auntie has had a rough week this week with her house sale falling through so needs some cheering up). I had no idea he'd done this until he announced last night that he'd booked and paid for it as he didn't want me to be on my own at the weekend - it's the first home game of the season for his football club so of course he'd have to go!!
He was in agreement that we really are stuck at the moment and can't really make any big decisions until we know one of two things - the first being the outcome of the operation on the 24th and the second being whether or not the IVF works.
He totally understood that I was in a quandry about my job but said that I should just stay where I am until we know one way or the other about my results from the hospital. In terms of where I should live, he said he'd love me to live with him but knows that the commute would just about finish me off at the moment. I currently work from 7am until 6pm with no breaks every day so adding another 2 hours onto an 11 hour day would mean a 65 hour working week which is certainly not relaxing! So, we agreed that we should stay exactly as we are at the moment but that I should help to do his house up with a view to moving in at some point in the future and not to get too hung up on the "when" of it all.
In terms of being worried about the IVF and the op itself, Tom said that he wasn't trying not to focus on it, he was just trying to make the run up to it lots of fun to take my mind off it and that's why we didn't speak much about it.
He was in London for most of this week and we spoke for ages on the phone which was fab as it meant that we really could speak about things without either of us getting het up if we got upset or getting distracted.
So, the upshot is that we've got a lovely few weeks in the run up to the 24th with a couple of festivals to go to and lots of nice family meals and nights out planned. If the IVF works then great, but if it doesn't then Tom said we should put our names down for adoption or fostering. He also said that if the IVF doesn't work then I should look for a new job closer to him and then have a complete clean slate with a new home and new job. He's always so bloomin right!
He was also gutted that I felt so bad about myself and him. He reassured me that children were definitely what he wanted but that he wanted me more so if we did have children then brilliant but that it was me and only me that he wanted to have children with so it didn't matter what happened, he wasn't going anywhere.
What a lovely lovely lovely lovely boy. He really is the best thing in the world that's ever happened to me.
So, Tom made my enormous uncrossable ocean of problems seem like a storm in a teacup.
He's also been very supportive about my new "diet". I've been going to the gym like it's going out of fashion and have been a slave to the treadmill! (Runningbird, if you're reading this, what sort of time is good to run 3Km in???)
I could also give Stephen Redgrave a run for his money as I feel as if I've rowed halfway around the globe. I have blisters on my hands from the machines and ask me how much weight I've lost.....
Bloomin nothing. Not a pound, not an ounce, not a gram!
I seem to be defying medical science by eating 1500 calories a day and doing an hour of cardio a day but staying the same flippin weight. How does that work? I think someone's attching weights to my knicker seams. It doesn't even seem to change when I do the "magic lean", which is where I shift my centre of gravity around a bit on the scales and manage to lose a pound or two. I am counting calories like a deranged person and have cleared the local tesco out of mullerlights, fruit and snack a jacks. I am the slim-a-soup queen but to no avail.
I have decided my body is rebelling against me and that fat is leaping up off pavements and wrapping itself around my hips when I'm not looking.
Tom insists he can't even tell I've put weight on but I think unless I ballooned to the size of an elephant, he wouldn't notice anyway.
He's been really good though and not bought any "crap" for the cupboards so we are officially a crisp, biscuit and chocolate free house. (God, I'm depressed just typing that. There's only so much fat free yoghurt a girl can get excited about)
He comes to the gym with me when he can and even trailed round Decathlon on Saturday as I kitted myself out with leggings and water bottles. I did lose him in the cycling section for a while and he got a bit mad when I managed to step on his toe that I'd managed to wedge under the door earlier in the day - in fact he thought I was trying to cripple him!
So, he's supporting me in my diet and until I'm back to 9 stone I'm not going to be a happy bunny. Looking at the official photos of my brother's wedding reminded me of a butcher's shop as my arm resembled a side of ham.
I've also had my hair rescued today. My friend and hairdresser was back from her holiday and her first words when she got to my house were, "What on earth have you done?" She found my "Pat Butcher's spare wig" style very amusing and has spent the last 3 hours rectifying the hairdressing horror. I now have a short ash blonde bob with some low lights in to calm the whole thing down a bit. I am no longer Tiny Tears' big sister or look like a large Eastender who runs a car lot. So, i'm not as blonde as I was but at least I don't resemble a human tub of "utterly butterly".
I'm off out with one of my mates tonight and it should be an interesting evening as she's the girlfriend of one of ST's mates so I'll no doubt hear the latest about his weird and not so wonderful antics. The last I heard he was living alone in a flat in a neighbouring village and was being a complete arse to all of his mates. No surprises there then!
Anyway, just wanted to say thank you to so many of you who e-mailed your advice. Lots of you decided that they were too long to post so e-mailed me them instead. I've read and digested all of them and you really are such a sensible bunch. It was your e-mails which got me to start talking to Tom properly again so thank you so much because you've been instrumental in helping me to sort things out. Thank you all so so so much.
Will update again soon, I have a date with a gardener later to discuss how best to trim my hedge as it's gone a bit wild to say the least. So, I'll be donning my wellies and venturing into the dense undergrowth that was once my garden. Why do I always book these things in when I've had my hair done??
Lots of love in the meantime and wish me luck with my diet - it really is the most bloomin frustrating thing ever. Am having a day off the gym today as I feel as if someone has set fire to my calves and I think I'm going deaf in one ear after I had a bit of an i-pod related accident on the stepper.
So, lots of love and thanks again