Heading Logo


Been There, Done That

By Laura Nethken Published: July 16, 2017 4:00 AM

About a year ago, my doctor suggested I be tested to see if I was in menopause. Oh great, how do we do that? Stop my meds and see if I end up in the family way?

Thankfully, that's not how this works. I filled a ridiculous number of blood tubes and was told during my follow-up visit that my days of fertility were over. Happy Dance! No more birth control shots every three months.

I can live with a hot flash now and then. As a confirmed freeze-baby, they're generally welcomed. I can't even tell if it's me or if it's actually too hot. So I ask Dave. "I'm having a hot flash, are you having it with me?" If he says yes, then it's just hot, not a flash.

Then, I started losing weight. A pound here, a pound there, nothing drastic. Cool. That one pair of pants I didn't wear to work anymore because I couldn't do the button fit again. Awesome.

Especially since I put forth zero effort in this weight loss. I wasn't really exercising other than "walking like you mean it." You have to walk like you plan on getting there.

[Article continues below]

The building I work in is very big. I think it's the same distance from my desk to the ladies room as it used to be from my desk in the Ravenna office to Guido's. I have to walk like I mean it here or it'll take me a half hour to get to the lunch room and back.

And I kept on losing weight. The kids even noticed. I started freaking out that I was sick and didn't know it. The only thing in my life that's really changed is stopping those shots. So of course I self-diagnosed and Googled it.

I was shocked to discover that it is almost a given to lose weight when you stop the shots. Who knew? Evidently a lot of women. They expected it, they were counting on it. In one post I read, a woman said she had quit the shots the week before and wanted to know how soon the pounds would be dropping off.

Now I'm glad my doctor didn't say anything about it to me. This has been a pleasant surprise about a year in the making. Except for one thing -- clothes.

It had taken me a long time to get where I was with my wardrobe. "I've got clothes older than that" isn't just an empty expression at my house. We literally wear things out. There is certainly nothing worth donating. They don't even make good rags when we're done with them.

[Article continues below]

But I had replaced my worn-out stuff and finally was in a good place with enough things that fit me. Now, nothing fits. Everything hangs on me. I look like a Bohemian bag lady. I have to wear a belt with everything.

I even had to get a new belt. It was either that or put more holes in the one I had and thread it through the belt loops a second time. I dug out a pair of jeans I hadn't worn in a long time because I was too chubby for them. Ha! I'll have one pair that fits!

Not so much. Before I couldn't get them buttoned. Now, they fall on the floor -- buttoned.

I had to go shopping for clothes. I hate shopping for clothes. I don't like trying on clothes at the store. I never have the right clothes on to be able to get dressed and undressed quickly. If I have normal jeans on, then I'm probably wearing workboots and I'm not messing around lacing them all up again.

If I'm wearing my slip on and off easy "elf boots," then I'm most likely wearing pants with tight ankles and there is no easy or quick way of getting in and out of those. At home, Dave grabs the pants by the ankles and pulls them off me like a toddler so I can change into a more comfortable pair of "holey" jeans for my domestic duties of dishes and laundry.

I'm not thrilled with being in a state of undress in a store. Some of them have the dressing room all the way in the back. Nice. Others put you smack dab in the middle of the store and you can hear the conversations of everyone passing by while you sit there in your underwear trying on outfits.

I don't want to try clothes on at the store, but if I don't and I get home and they don't fit, then I have to go through the hassle of returning them for the right size, blah, blah, blah.

Worse yet, if I bought them at a second-hand store, then I'm stuck with them. They don't take them back just because you don't know what size you wear.

I think the thrift shops, where we get nearly all of our clothes anyway, should work on a trade system. I walk in with four pairs of jeans that don't fit and walk out with four pairs I think will. After trying them on in the privacy of my own home and discovering I still don't know what size I wear, I can exchange them for others.

It would work great for families, too. Kids outgrow clothes way before they wear them out. Take the old ones in and exchange them for bigger ones. It's a beautiful system that doesn't exist and probably never will.

I'm just glad I'm not looking for bigger clothes, although it would be nice to take credit for my weight loss. "I eat healthy stuff and exercise every day." Nah, I'm on the Snickers diet and sometimes "walk like I mean it."

° 2017 Laura Nethken


Rate this article

Do you want to leave a comment?   Please Log In or Register to comment.