NutriSystem: Week One

I survived a week on NutriSystem without blowing it. It appears I've lost three pounds. Or maybe two. My scale tends to fluctuate. So let's call it 2.5. Not bad for a week of going to bed hungry, although I sure feel like I deserve more! But I won't make jokes about being hungry because it's a very real problem for a lot of people around the globe.

One thing that I've found about this diet is that I'm having the most bizarre dreams. One dream of a couple nights ago was so horrific (involving murder and dismemberment by hatchet), that I won't repeat the specific details here. Early this morning I went through an entire wedding day preparation that involved my ex-husband's little sister (whom I used to babysit back in the 1970's).

I know I could've lost more weight this week if it wasn't for my knee pain preventing me from walking my usual 10-15 miles. But the good news is that, as it turns out, the problem is not a torn meniscus (thank goodness) as previously diagnosed in a hurry by a local orthopaedic surgeon. Thanks to spending my entire $1,000 deductible on an MRI, it was revealed that this is a problem with the semitendinosus tendon—either it's irritated, or the pain stems from bursitis (fluid around the tendon). It sure helps having a sister-in-law who is the head of radiology at a Naval hospital.

At least I know I don't need surgery. I haven't decided whether to go back to the local doctor, who refuses to discuss possible treatment over the phone after all the money I've already shelled out for this. He obviously prefers that I fork over another $500 to sit in his waiting room for an hour and spend three very quick minutes with him before he rushes me out of his office to get to the next patient, only to find out he wants me to come back daily for expensive rehab that I could do myself at home. I just can't afford that right now.

Anyway, I can't believe I lasted a week on a diet. Yuk. I'm just no good at self-deprivation, except when it comes to the really bad addictions, like nicotine. Speaking of which, I just realized that it's been five years to the week since I quit smoking. Hence my chocolate addiction. . . . Oh, well. It could be worse.