Weight: 185 lbs (I can't explain it, but I weighed myself about 37 times to be sure...)Size:
Blood Pressure: 135/86
Feeling:
Pre-Cryo: Okay
Post-Cryo: Better! (Really)
Okay, so I didn't die. And things still hurt a little, but they're not quite as dire.
I'd like to say that a good night's sleep put me right, but that would be a lie. I lay in bed for hours, tossing and turning before I finally fell asleep. There were a few tears, much thinking and finally a restless sleep.
So. Much. Drama.
I suppose the point is, we all have stress, right? We all go through hard times, we all have our moments of getting beat up by the world around us and this was one of mine. They don't happen often, and it was just dumb luck that mine came during this experiment...or maybe it was a good thing?
People talk about cryotherapy being so good for anxiety, depression, and emotional balance (among other things) - and what better way to put it to a real test than to have me go through some (pardon my french) shit while experimenting, right? We'll just go ahead and call that a silver lining. You're welcome. Anything for the cause...(sigh)
My turmoil is real. I'd very much rather not be going through the drama, but it is what it is. Like most humans, it's been bubbling around me for some time and it just so happened to come to a head now. No one has a smooth and perfect road 24/7. So, why not see how cryotherapy gets me through?
So, here's how it went...
Pre-Cryo:
I woke up tired and still feeling rotten. If I could have hidden in my bed all day, I would have, but I'm told that grown women aren't allowed to do that anymore. Also, my husband had college students taking down our hurricane shutters - which meant that even as I lay there, the banging, and intrusion of sunlight was happening. I got up, made a half-hearted attempt to look human and actually tried the frozen spoon under the eyes trick to de-puff my swollen eyes (total crap, by the way).
My small consolation prize from the universe was the mysterious disappearance of my hurricane-junk-food weight - I actually lost another pound. I ate better yesterday - healthier. I even made a point to eat dinner rather than skip the meal. I had a bit of a wardrobe crisis when I noticed that nothing looked right. I wasn't being picky, things just weren't fitting right. I literally threw away three pairs of pants that were so awful looking on that I couldn't bear the idea of mistakenly putting them on ever again (and they weren't even good enough to donate). Had I actually lost enough weight to buy new pants? According to my scale, I am down 9 pounds since the beginning of this experiment (17 days). That is without any exercise or diet attempts. My only lifestyle changes are cryotherapy and drinking more water. I freely admit to occasional sweet tea/soda binges and junk food days. So imagine if I had done this and dieted? Or even exercised? Geeez!
I headed off to my chiropractor appointment, where I was actually grateful that they were too busy to pay much attention to me for a change, because I pretty much was still struggling a bit. I did get an awesome compliment that I looked like I'd lost weight, so I liked that. I've tried to lose weight (by the sheer power of wishing coupled with half-hearted attempts...) for decades without budging the scale more than 5 lbs...so, I've made real progress.
By the time I got to cryotherapy, I was feeling a bit stronger and decided I was going to just move forward with not feeling lousy. Everything still ached, inside and out. Probably more inside.
Post-Cryo:
I did feel better. I had some energy, not a ton, but enough. I felt a bit more upbeat - not like a ray of sunshine and not like singing a happy song, but I wasn't wiping away secret tears anymore either.
I left cryotherapy and decided to add one more bit of therapy to my day: retail therapy. I bought some new jeans and some pretty scented candles.
The Gods were smiling upon me. The jeans were two sizes smaller.
Okay, okay - first, let me say that I am fairly positive that these jeans run a bit big and they have a tiny bit of stretch to them. But at the very least, I have definitely dropped one size, which explains my wardrobe fuss this morning. When you find jeans that fit well and are two sizes smaller than you have worn in many, many, many years, you do the logical thing and buy three pairs in three different colors. Which I did. I also bought three shirts (also a full size smaller).
Retail therapy works, y'all. Because I most definitely was starting to smile now.
I ran a few more errands and headed home.
I'm not cured. Things aren't fixed, but they aren't really broken either. It's just a hard patch that has to be walked to get to the next level. I know that. I know everything is going to turn out good. Probably great. I know I have to put in some work, shed a few more tears and get through the hard stuff and I know it's worth it. It's life. Cryotherapy won't make it go away, but it did ease some of the burden.
I could have felt much, much, much worse. I've been through hard times before, like we all have, and my coping skills aren't superhuman, to say the least. They actually kinda suck. In the past, I probably would have hidden in bed for a bit. I wouldn't be so optimistic or feel so resolved. I might not love the process, but I know I feel stronger and I think cryotherapy has a part in that for me.
Sure, it can't be proven - but it's my experience. You also can't prove the 9 lbs I lost was due to cryotherapy, but I know perfectly well that my scale wasn't budging for the past few months...
By the way, if you find those 9 lbs that I lost - you can keep 'em. I'm not returning these jeans.
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