Pete and I survived over the summer of 2008. I was planning the wedding on my own and doing everything. Pete was mourning his father and dealing with all the stuff that happens after a parent is gone.
In September Pete and I said our I Do's.
Look how happy we were! I remember going in for my last fitting and the seamstress telling me that I had lost weight because she had to take it in a bit again and I had to go back right before the wedding to pick it up. But in all honesty, I hadn't lost anything. Because I wasn't doing anything. Neither was Pete.
After the wedding stuff settled down I talked Pete into joining a different no frills gym. I figured that this was the way we started before so let's do it again. Only he did it because I asked him to, not because he wanted to. And I had no motivation or conviction to go either. I think we paid for about 6 months of late 2008 and early 2009 and went a total of 6 times.
I remember that I bought this beautiful flowy blue shirt to wear at Christmas 2009. I remember that I had to buy a larger size jean. I was back up to size 24 jeans and 2X shirts. But I felt more in fashion and better about myself. Christmas Eve came and I could hardly walk on my right knee. A slave to fashion I wore my high heeled boots and limped the entire day.
When it wasn't better after New Years I made an appointment with my doctor. She took an xray and found nothing. She suggested that I see an orthopaedic surgeon. I remember that they showed me to the exam room and gave me a pair of paper shorts to put on while he examined me. Only the shorts didn't fit. They were the largest size and they didn't fit. I was ashamed.
After the MRI I went back to see the surgeon, only this time I wore my own shorts. He told me that I had worn a divot out of my knee cap and had arthritis pretty badly in the knee. I wasn't a candidate for surgery yet, but he guessed that I'd have a knee replacement by the time I was 45-50. I was 39 at the time. 39.
I went to physical therapy and did the exercises and my knee improved. And by the end of January 2010 I joined the YMCA. I pulled Pete along with me, begrudgingly.
(Thank you for following my story!)