So, I've been trying to get to my goal weight for a loooooooooooooooooong time, with a few ups and downs as most of us have had.
Well, this year threw a massive spanner in the works in that regard. And no, I'm not talking about Covid. (Though this does relate to serious illness!) See, this year - in June, to be precise - I got sick. Really sick. Several days in the ICU kind of sick.
I first came down with a fever and severe fatigue in the last week of May, and when I felt too weak to feed myself or even scroll through my phone, I went to the emergency department of my local hospital. I was admitted and given lots of IV fluid for my dehydration, and more anti-fever medications. I was also given IV antibiotics, and of course, multiple Covid tests just in case. (All negative.)
And I kept getting sicker.
I quickly became "that" case. The mystery patient. I simply wasn't responding to anything they were giving me, and it became a process of eliminating all the culprits they could think of. Doctors would gather outside my room, students included, whispering with each other and turning back to look at me with unmistakeable looks of puzzlement on their faces.
I had a bone marrow biopsy, an MRI, a CT scan, a lumbar puncture, multiple echocardiograms, multiple x-rays, on top of daily blood tests, despite barely being able to give any blood due to swelling and a heart that was under a tonne of strain. I progressed to needing high flow oxygen over the course of several days, and every single day I was feverish, weak, and in pain. I was transferred from my local hospital to a hospital in the city, and I have few memories from my first several days there, due to being so ill.
I don't remember the first dose of the drug that saved my life, but I do remember waking up a day or so later feeling incredible - at least in comparison to how I had been! I was on high dose steroids, so I can say for sure that a certain American president must have been feeling pretty amazing recently if he was on anything like what I was. More importantly, however, I was also being given four shots a day of Anakinra.
See, Anakinra is a very expensive medication that's used to treat autoinflammatory disorders. Autoinflammatory disorders are a bit like autoimmune disorders, but where autoimmune disorders involve the adaptive immune system, autoinflammatory disorders involve the innate immune system - the system which regulates inflammation in the body. Turns out, I had Adult-Onset Still's Disease, which in my case had progressed, alarmingly, to Macrophage Activation Syndrome, or more specifically, secondary Hemophagocytic Lymphohistiocytosis. This complication is life-threatening, and at one point I was seriously being considered for intubation. If you've heard of Covid causing a 'cytokine storm,' this is essentially what happened to me, triggered by this underlying Still's Disease. Anakinra blocks the Cytokine IL-18 from working, preventing the snowball effect that leads to uncontrolled inflammation in the body.
While I was in the hospital, they weighed me at one point. With all the additional swelling going on, I'd gone from 72kg upon entering the hospital to 76kg in the middle of my stay. I was upset at the time, not realising the seriousness of my condition! All I could think about was how annoying it was to weigh so much when I'd been trying so hard to lose weight.
Well. Cut to a few weeks later, finally cleared to leave the hospital, feeling much better and ready to go home. I go to stay with my parents while I recover, and what do I find when I step on the scales?
I weighed 66kg.
In the space of a couple of weeks, including the swelling/water weight, I'd lost 10kg. That's 22lbs, for American readers.
I was as weak as a kitten. I looked like a shrunken old lady, and my metabolism was in shambles. Did you know that fevers burn an insane amount of calories? I found out the hard way! I ate probably 2,500+ calories every day for weeks as a 5 foot 4 person on bedrest, and I actually went DOWN a kilo in that time!
And the thing is, my metabolism has since settled down, I'm feeling much stronger and I've even gone back to exercising! But. I've gained back 4kg, and currently weigh 70kg.
I felt bad when I realised that.
But I got an email from my rheumatologist the other day. I'd mentioned gaining weight to her, despite my best efforts to control my diet and begin exercising regularly again. And you know what she said?
"That's great - shows that you're healing!"
And fuck, man. I am, aren't I?
I had a life threatening disease in June. I lost 10kg in two weeks and it left me weak, unable to hold up my own weight. Now, I'm nearly back to the weight I was before I got sick - which is still overweight!
And I'm glad!
I'm healing!
There'll be plenty of time for me to reach my goal weight in a healthy way as long as I heal from my illness first. I'm gaining weight right now, because that's what my body's gunna do when it's been sick. It wants nutrients. Plus, I'm still on steroids - it's okay for me to be a little hangry now and then!
I dunno guys, I just wanted to give a different perspective and write this out for myself as much as anyone else. Sometimes the weight gain isn't just a neutral thing, it's a good sign. Sometimes weight loss isn't healthy, even when you start out overweight. I'm here, I'm alive, and I'm 70kg, and those are all beautiful things.
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