The Lord detests dishonest scales, but accurate weights find favor with him.
This past week, I have a wellness check scheduled with my doctor via the Tele-Health system. What a relief it is to have that technology! Since I wasn't going to be physically present, I decide to take my blood pressure and temperature, then head downstairs to the scale.
I must tell you that, even though we have a scale, I'm not one to use it. I've held steady for years at what I consider an acceptable weight, so I in no way expect the unfamiliar numbers flashing at me.
What??? I've gained five pounds? Since January?
This truly comes as a shock. I mean, my pants still fit, so what's up with that? Hold on - am I not tightening the belt where I once did? I question the accuracy of the scale, but my husband, Danny, who weighs himself regularly, assures me that it is correct. He even admits to thinking that I might be getting a bit thicker in the waistline, "But I'd never have said anything, Martha, because you still look great to me!"
Anyway, when I tell my doctor about the weight gain, he doesn't seem alarmed in the least, chalking it up to Covid-19 inactivity (which I'm sure does count for some of it as we only got our treadmill and weights at the end of July), and suggests that I could be retaining water, too. It's a common side effect of the medicine he's prescribed for me. I'm skeptical about that; I'm more inclined to believe that I really need to make good and frequent use of our exercise equipment.
And the extra pounds I'm currently carrying? I'm not overly concerned. For years, I've thought I don't weigh enough for my height and age. So, if I can convert the extra bulge to muscle, and stay around the new weight, I'm fine with that.
I know the scale will keep me honest.