Dear Dr. Landers,

Well, it's been ten days. Ten days since I came into your office, stood on that Dr. Who-like scale (with its handlebars and blinky lights) and discovered exactly what my BMI was, along with other fabulous numbers including my PBF (percentage of body fat). I also learned that my right arm is 7.89 pounds overweight. My left arm is 7.94 pounds overweight.

I'm not sure how that's helpful information, but okay.

Also, I'd like to know how one arm got fatter than the other. But I digress.

After I was weighed and measured, I took the class on what to eat and what not to eat, led by the wonderful doctor who was so enthusiastic she made me believe that I could *do* this.

And then I went home and was on my own.

I've been sticking to the rules. I have been chanting, "If it's white, it's not right!" whenever anyone dares to eat a piece of bread or potato in my vicinity. I have been eyeing my palm every time I eat meat to make sure I've got the right amount of ounces.

I'm drinking more water. I'm walking more. And I'm feeling... dare I say it?... perky.

So, after being pretty darn faithful to the program, I stepped on the scale today, just to see if I'd made any progress.

According to my ordinary bathroom scale, I've lost exactly a half of a pound. In ten days.
At this rate, I'll be at my 97-pound goal weight right around the time my daughters put me in a nursing home.

This isn't fair. I want to run to the Dr. Who scale just to confirm. But then I'd probably discover I've lost that half of a pound from my wrists, or my left ear, or some other place that didn't really need to lose that much weight. This might discourage me.

But I refuse to be discouraged. It's all about the journey, isn't it? I'll just keep telling myself that.

And since it's always good to bring a buddy when you go on a journey, I've started this blog.
Maybe it'll inspire someone else. Maybe it'll inspire me. Either way is a win-win.
So... onward with the journey.

- your patient,
Heather