A Distant Memory?

I think I've told you that Richard and I have been on diets.  I've lost fifteen pounds.  Another ten to go and those will be the hardest.  Actually about seven of those pounds fell off quite rapidly when I stopped drinking.  Those were the easiest.

Monday I had a regular appointment at the primary doctor.

"Pay close attention to that number," I said to the nurse as I stepped on the scale.
"Wow.  That's a good number," she replied.

The doctor came into the exam room and we chatted.
"Take a look at my weight,"  I told her.
"Wow.  How'd you do that?  So many women have trouble losing weight.  I always like to know."
"I eat alot more salads and I stopped buying chips and pretzels." I told her. "Plus I'm walking three to four miles every day."
"Keep it up.  You're doing great," the doctor told me.

I went on my merry way feeling healthy.  Tuesday I went to see the endocrinologist.  She was also impressed by my weight loss and asked the same question.  I gave the same answer.

When I recounted these conversations to Richard later, it was then and only then that it dawned on me.  I hadn't told either doctor that I'd stopped drinking.  I'm sure I never told then that I drank in the first place.  I'm a very private person.  I'm sure I never told anyone that I thought I had a drinking problem.

I thought for awhile.  Did it not enter my mind because subconsciously I wanted to hide it?  Or has the need for alcohol left me once and for all?  Believe me there are days I'd love to sit down and relax with a big glass of wine.  In three months has wine become a distant memory?  Probably not.  But I'm working on it.  And that's a good thing.