PCOS sucks. Eating healthy sucks. Resisting temptation sucks.
Let me tell you about the absolutely best, most amazing sandwich ever in the world...and how I resisted the temptation to eat it, all because of PCOS. I went to dinner the other night with a friend from church, and we decided to go to this cute restaurant that serves sandwiches, salads, soups, and pastries. They have a daily special--and Thursday's sandwich happens to be tomato, basil, and mozzarella on fresh-baked focaccia bread, with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar. It's messy and oily and absolutely delicious. And it fills my head with all sorts of conflicting messages: It's filled with vegetables, right? So it should be good for me, right? My doctor did tell me to up the vegetable intake, right? Well, yes...but that inch-and-a-half slab of focaccia bread (on both the top and bottom of the sandwich) is packed full of starches, right? And starches are essentially sugars, right? And sugars effect my insulin levels, which in turn effect my hormone levels, right? And unhappy hormone levels just mess everything up.
I said "no" to the sandwich. I got tomato soup instead...and asked them to hold the side of fresh baked bread.
I'm also saying "no" to the bag of Halloween candy sitting on my counter, waiting to be handed out to the neighborhood kids. I just hope that we have a lot of trick-or-treaters so that I can give out the whole bag and not be further tempted by it's chocolaty goodness.
Yeah...PCOS pretty much sucks. Although, I admit, the thought has crossed my mind to eat like crap this month so as to try to delay my ovulation until my husband returns. But I'm resisting that temptation too. Besides, it will be nice for him to come home to a better body than the one he left five weeks prior.
Speaking of which, he's my blessing. I got to talk to him again yesterday (two times in a week--I could get used to this!), and we've passed the half-way point. I just can't tell if it's all downhill from him, and the missing him will only get easier; or if I'll start to miss him more and more, the longer I go without seeing, touching, and being with him. Whichever way, it's a blessing to know that he will be home soon.