Our basement flooded with the very heavy rains we had in July and we are still in the midst of cleaning it up. My partner and I were very fortunate as we lost very little compared to some folks. My partner grabbed the most valuable things from the basement before water got to them but we did lose some furniture. Everything else from the basement was relocated to the living room, there isn’t much space left to be comfortable.

We had to pull up the carpet ourselves as all the restoration companies had more calls than they could handle. We also had to cut the drywall out ourselves (bottom four inches) and now we are waiting to find out our next steps from the insurance company.

Having the house upside down like this is extremely triggering for me. My second ex-husband was mentally and emotionally abusive, and I was with him for fifteen long years. When we bought our house in New Brunswick we had plans for improvements but very few of them ever came to fruition. My house though, was torn apart little by little and by the time I left I didn’t even have a kitchen.

The ex also bought a small apartment building and I had to go help him with the renovations. We tore up carpet, laid new flooring, all kinds of things. The apartments were looking better than my house at the time. We fought and argued all the time, I resented that stupid building.

The disarray of my home now is bringing back some unwelcome memories and feelings. Feelings of anger, resentment, fear and uncertainty. I know my partner will get things done, it’s just a matter of having a little patience. The contractors I’ve spoken with are busy until mid-September so I have to wait until at least then to get anything done downstairs and reclaim my living room.

In the meantime, I escape my house a couple of nights a week with a friend. We usually go for a walk or a drive and coffee. If there is a nice day on the weekend she and I try to get out to the beach. I remind myself this is not the same situation as back then. My partner is not at all like my ex-husband. There’s no need to worry things won’t get done, or that I’ll live in a perpetual construction site, or that we’ll fight and argue over the details, or that I’ll get stuck doing the lion’s share of the work.

Fatphobia is described as anti-fat where there is an implicit or explicit bias of overweight individuals that is rooted in a sense of blame and presumed moral failing, as per the Boston Medical Center. I do see a problem with fatphobia in our culture. I was an anti-fat person myself, I automatically didn’t want to befriend a fat person, and I swore I would never let myself go like that. But now, I’ve discovered several reasons a person might gain weight out of the blue and I have much more empathy. I hope my empathy comes through as I discuss the difference between fatphobia and medical facts.

I’ve heard the following phrase over and over again, “my doctor told me to lose weight for (insert reason here). My doctor is fatphobic!” I don’t see it that way, the reality is that the doctor is prescribing the most effective, sustainable, long term treatment for (insert reason here). The treatment has the least amount of risk and the most benefit.

I’m actually overweight myself due to a number of medications I take, an addiction to sugary sweets, an under active thyroid, and lack of exercise, not to mention I quit smoking just eight months ago. My doctor recently told me that losing some weight will help with my incontinence. This is a medical fact, not a judgement.

A weight of over two hundred pounds on a five foot three inches frame puts extra strain on organs and joints, and can interfere with bladder control. Cold hard facts don’t care if I’m insulted or if my feelings are hurt, they simply exist. It’s undeniable that losing weight has health benefits like reduced risk of diabetes, heart disease, joint pain, sleep apnea, and gerd, just to name a few. No wonder my doctor suggested it.

My understanding of the term fatphobia is that it has more to do with excluding overweight people or discriminating against them based solely on their size and has nothing to do with genuinely being concerned for their wellbeing. It’s being judgemental of overweight people as if they are solely to blame, and should be shamed for overeating. Not at all the same as the doctor suggesting that my health will improve with weight loss.

I’m not saying that doctors aren’t fatphobic, some probably are, but not when weight loss is suggested for the right reasons, with the right attitude and a generous amount of empathy. I also want to recognize that being bigger does not automatically make a person unhealthy or out of shape.

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I went for my cystoscopy and managed to generate a deep enough cough that there was significant leakage. I also kept track of how many leaks per day I had and presented that to my urologist. She finally agreed to do the bladder sling over again. Phew!

Words can’t even describe the relief and anxiety I feel. I’m relieved to know that she is willing to redo the bladder sling surgery given that the first one moved and is ineffective, and there is still significant leakage.

I’m worried about getting another infection at the incision, and that the surgery may not work. Those two risks have me kind of nervous given my recent experience. I’m going to ask her to use stitches instead of staple to reduce the risk of infection. Would that even make a difference seeing as I have a belly that creates a crease where bacteria can form?

After surgery, I’m going to take it much easier than last time and for eight weeks instead of six. That’s right, no jiggy jiggy for eight long weeks, hun, sorry! This time I don’t want to take any chances on having the bladder sling move.

Between now and my surgery date my doctor wants me to use estrogen cream three days a week, do kegel exercises daily, and try to lose weight as it should all help with the incontinence.

On a side note, she told me that she sees women daily who have PTSD symptoms from having wet themselves when they were children. I’m not the only one who hears their mother’s voice with every accident. I was relieved to know that. It meant I wasn’t alone anymore.

Okay, so, it has been nearly seven months since I quit smoking….and I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting off urges and thoughts to smoke. It’s exhausting. The physical part of my stupid addiction is over. Nicotine has left the building….but the mental part, ooohhh, the mental part…

I think about smoking a lot, I wish I’d never started in the first place but I can’t change the past. I really do miss certain aspects of smoking like; the sense of relief and satisfaction that comes with the first drag; rewarding myself with a smoke after completing a task; having a smoke to calm my nerves; etc…

I ask myself daily, “how much longer can I keep this up? How much longer can I fight off my urges and desire for a cigarette?” Even as I’m writing this, I’m debating on grabbing a pack and putting an end to my suffering. The devil on one side whispering promises of relief, and the angel on the other side reminding me of the benefits of not smoking.

I was able to send gifts to my grandchildren for Christmas and birthdays, I was able to help my kids and a couple of friends a little bit financially. If I was still smoking, I wouldn’t have been able to do any of that. But boy, do I miss it.

I admit I have had a few cigarettes along the way and each time I think it kind of rekindled the romance. It’s like a catch twenty-two, my mental craving got so bad I caved in, which in turn, kind of reset my brain’s addiction

So, what’s a girl to do? Soldier on, I guess is the best way to put it. Becoming a smoker again would create way more problems than it would solve. It would cause problems with my partner, with my meagre income would mostly go towards cigarettes, my health would deteriorate faster than a non-smoker, etc… Time to repeat my mantra: nothing good comes from smoking.

The radio silence between my youngest daughter and me has broken. She has been reaching out to me from time to time. I’ve missed her very much and it is good to hear from her. I’ve been keeping my end of the conversation light and non-intrusive. I let her lead the conversation to wherever she needs it to go and we’ve had conversations lasting up to three hours.

I’m careful not to bring up painful things from the past and I focus on the present. I think for her part, she does the same. Revisiting our falling out a year and a half ago wouldn’t be helpful to anyone. We don’t walk on eggshells with each other though. I don’t hold her responsible for my triggers, I own those. If she says something triggering to me I let her know it’s not a topic I’m prepared to discuss at that time, and she does the same. Fortunately, this does not happen often, we’re both pretty much on the same page.

There is still a distance between us and I can’t stay with her when I visit. It will take time to close the distance but I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to stay with her again. We disagree on the Bible and God (she’s a believer and I am not), and she does not approve of my cannabis use. Since we both feel strongly about our positions on these two very fundamental subjects, it’s better I don’t stay with her. Having said that, she only requests that I don’t smoke any cannabis just before seeing her and my granddaughter, which I am fine with.

We don’t talk about the Bible or God. It’s very triggering for me for several reasons so she knows not to bring it up. I don’t bring up what nonsense it is or try to make her an atheist like me. It’s not my place to control her beliefs or what she thinks. We both know the topic is off limits and respect that. There are plenty of other things to talk about.

Well, I did hear back from my urologist’s office and before she will consider doing another bladder sling surgery I will have to undergo a urodynamics test and cystoscopy…again.

So I went in for the urodynamics test and part of the test gages how much I leak due to coughs and sneezes. The result was not what I expected, I didn’t leak when asked to cough even with a full bladder. I think the lack of leakage was due to a combination of having a catheter in my urethra and the position I was sitting in. Plus my mind could have played tricks on me and I thought my bladder was full when it wasn’t full enough to leak. My paranoia of having an accident in public may have gotten the better of me.

I didn’t see my urologist, it was a nurse who preformed the test but the cystoscopy will be done by the urologist in April. She’ll also fill my bladder and ask me to cough. Hopefully I will leak enough to warrant another bladder sling surgery.

I’m confident in saying that the bladder sling she put in failed because it shifted position. It doesn’t feel or sound like she agrees with me. I guess we’ll see if she will redo the surgery after the cystoscopy . I really hope so.