Tag: low protein diet

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Life with Kidney Restrictions and Weight Challenges

Written June 13, 2025

Hello, Dear Readers,

Well, I survived another workout today—barely. And to add a plot twist, the scale tells me I’ve lost three pounds since yesterday. I didn’t misplace them on purpose, I swear.

Now before you start sending congratulatory fruit baskets (please don’t, I can’t eat most of them), let me explain. My kidneys have been staging a quiet rebellion for some time now, and part of their protest involves limiting my diet. Combine that with a surprisingly high level of activity, and voilà—I’m losing weight faster than a sock in a dryer.

Summertime brings its own delightful chaos. I have to become a hydration ninja, dodging lab abnormalities like I’m in some kind of medical obstacle course. One wrong move—too little water—and my lab results go haywire. Last year, my cholesterol levels pulled a disappearing act. I wasn’t even mad. Just impressed.

To keep some order in our culinary kingdom, my wife and I plan our weekly menu. Not because we’re gourmet masterminds, but because food waste makes us both twitchy. That, and we’ve basically built our diet around chicken breasts. Mostly chicken breasts unless we go for occasional salmon or plant-based protein. Why? Well, pork doesn’t agree with my wife—upsets her stomach. Same goes for shrimp and crab, so those little delicacies are benched.

Now me? I’m working with a whopping 36 grams of meat protein a day. Thirty-six. That’s like…a sad scoop of shredded chicken. On days with family dinners or special events, I may tiptoe over the limit, but I know my wife will quietly adjust the weekly menu like a stealthy nutritional accountant.

Grains? Limited. Protein? Monitored like a suspicious package. Bananas? Handle with caution. Basically, if it tastes good or feels indulgent, I probably have to negotiate with my kidneys first.

That’s why I bake mini pastry puffs every weekend—a humble little treat to keep my weight from disappearing entirely. I don’t devour them. I ration like I’m on a space station. Ice cream? That’s my red alert dessert. I only pull it out when I notice I’ve lost too much weight. Like today. (Silver linings, people.)

After my stroke, things shifted. But rewind to when I first moved to Nashville—oh, I was running not as much, but enough to build muscles in my calves. I built so much muscle that my mom was surprised. True story. 

Back then, my wife did everything—a full-time job and most of the house chores. It took me some time, but I eventually wrestled the outdoor responsibilities away from her. When you’re exercising and doing yard work in Tennessee heat, weight loss isn’t a question—it’s a guarantee. For me, the diet restrictions added another layer. It’s not that I’m sick and therefore underweight. It’s more like… I got strong, and my kidneys decided, “Cool, but no extra calories for you.”

Just yesterday, I finally hit my target weight again. And now? Boom—dropped below it. It’s irritating, sure, but not the end of the world. I’ve got my strategy: tiny pastries, sneaky scoops of ice cream, and a carefully curated menu. Let’s be honest—if the solution to a problem is “eat more dessert,” I’m not going to complain too loudly.

Until next time,
Stay hydrated, stay balanced, and treat your kidneys like the finicky coworkers they are.

—Yours in protein math and pastry puffs.

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How I Outsmarted Protein Restrictions and Found My Balance (Mostly)

Written May 13, 2025

Hello Dear Readers,

After mowing the lawn this morning—a chore I now count as both cardio and meditation—I had a small but glorious victory: the bathroom scale whispered the sweet news that I’ve almost reclaimed all my lost weight. Just one stubborn pound remains. One! At this rate, I may throw that pound a welcome-back party… with non-alcoholic, low-phosphorus sparkling water, of course.

For months, I’ve been running four times a week. It all began innocently enough: my wife, in her infinite wisdom (and persistence), suggested I start walking to help my brain recover post-stroke. One foot in front of the other eventually snowballed into full-blown 10K runs. I guess my brain took that as “heal or hustle.”

But here’s the kicker: the stroke didn’t just damage my brain—it also decided to throw my kidneys under the bus. That lovely discovery landed me on dialysis and slapped me with a grocery list of dietary restrictions that reads like a “no-fun” menu. Protein? Strictly rationed at 36 grams per day. That’s less than what your average housecat gets. Chicken breasts? Off the table. Protein shakes? Forbidden potions. Cheese, chocolate, bananas? Banned by the Potassium & Phosphorus Police.

And yet, summer rolls in, bringing not just sunshine but a to-do list longer than a CVS receipt. Yard work, outdoor chores, sweating like I’m trying to grow muscles through evaporation—it’s a full-body experience. But here’s the problem: I can’t refuel the usual way. No chomping down extra calories from your friendly neighborhood protein bar.

So I get creative. Snacks become strategic. I’ve mastered the fine art of the homemade jam pastry—yes, it’s as indulgent and carefully calculated as it sounds. Ice cream also makes an occasional cameo, carefully vetted like it’s applying for a visa to enter my digestive system.

Recently, I’ve had to scale back (pun intended) my other workouts due to a rebellious shoulder. Planking? Down to once a day. The result? Surprise! Less exercise = weight gain. Turns out, my body is a finicky machine that runs on paradoxes and spite.

The shoulder is still not back to full power, but it’s slowly on the mend. So, for now, I’m sticking with the gentle path—less exercise, more patience, fewer unreasonable expectations.

One issue at a time. No need to be greedy with progress. My body isn’t a vending machine—I don’t get to press A5 and receive instant healing. But if I treat it kindly, listen to its cues, and bribe it with jam, we might just keep moving forward.