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A blog by wendytip

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Wooooooo-hooooooo onederland!

AT LAST! I weighed in last week at a much anticipated 198! That puts me at a loss of 73 and a half pounds gone! It seems like only yesterday that I was reading other peoples' posts about getting to Onederland, and longing for the day! I can't tell you how great this is! For all you you bandsters that aren't there yet, hang it there; you'll be there before you know it! P.S I you wanna, you can check out my video blogs on youtube; That Crazy Fat Chick.

July 29, 2009

12

And all of a sudden EVERYONE is a freakin? expert on how to loose weight.

I never knew how many people are experts on how to loose weight and keep it off until I got banded. Now, they are coming out of the woodwork. I’m quiet. I’m calm. I don’t say anything, as they go on and on and ON! I decided early on to be open about being “banded.” Hell, I don’t care what people say or think, and if I can motivate just one person to do whatever works for them to lose the weight, then it’s worth it to me. However, when people find out that I’m banded; that’s when it alllll starts. “The best way to loose weight and keep it off is by eating 6 small meals a day.” “I just cut out all the sodas and that’s how I lost 30lbs.” “Yes, but if you don’t work out 5 times a week for at least 45 minutes, at your target heart range, you won’t keep the weight off.” “I don’t eat anything past 7:00 in the evening.” “I drink only the strained juice from boiled cabbage, and eat only egg white omelets.” “The best way to loose weight and keep it off is by eating 6 small meals a day.” “I do the Atkins diet. I know it’s not healthy, but that’s the best way to loose weight.” “You better be working out at least 3 days a week for 2 hours in the pool, with weights attached to your arms, legs and neck, or you won’t keep the weight off.” “The best way to loose weight is by “praying” it off, and if you pray the weight off you don’t have to exercise because God doesn’t like it when we sweat” “You have to work out EVERY SINGLE day, except Sunday, if you want to keep the weight off…and I think that’s in the Bible somewhere.” “I do the all carb diet.” “I lost 50lbs through hypnosis.” “If you don’t eat breakfast your metabolism stagnates and you’ll actually GAIN weight.” “You better be working out.” “The band causes your body to go into starvation mode and you actually GAIN weight…you need to have that taken out.” “If you don’t exercise, then your body starts burning muscle and you might loose weight, but you won’t keep it off…plus your body will look all gross.” But I don’t say anything. I just smile and think “idiots.” But, what I “want” to say…what I want to say is, “Well, I tell you what; none of this is your business. You obviously don’t have a clue as to what you’re talking about, so you can take your choice: you can either kiss my fat a** now, or you can wait, and kiss my skinny a** in a few months!

January 16, 2009

11

Warning: Rant alert! Read at your own risk!

This is my story. I’ll try to keep it as short and to the point as I can, and I’m not going to tiptoe around this. I was banded December 22, 2009. That was the day I was reborn, and my life changed in ways I never dreamed possible. I believe that for many of us; the ones with “true” addictions, it takes “rolling around in the gutter” before we can begin to rise up. My darkest days were when I was in the throes of my eating disorder. I can honestly tell you that if it weren’t for my children I think I would have killed myself. I used find comfort in imagining how I would “do it.” I was just so tired. Everyday was the same as the last. I would wake up and know that I was going to lose that battle with food, yet again. Some days I’d lose it before breakfast. Some days it might take me a few weeks before I finally lost control. Once, I made it over a year and lost 71 pounds…only to gain every ounce, and then some back again. So, I just wanted it to end. I just wanted peace. And don’t get me wrong; I refer to my eating disorder in the past tense, but it’s not a “past tense” thing at all. I consider myself to be a “recovering addict.” An alcoholic doesn’t get to say, “I used to be an alcoholic,” and I don’t get to say, “I used to have an eating disorder.” I DO have an eating disorder. I have to remember that or it will sneak up on me again and kick my ass. So, I say all that to really say this; people have to come into their own truth in their own time, and sadly, some never come into their truth at all. If you would have told me that one day I would have to be careful and remember to eat, I would have told you that you were crazy. If you would have told me that someday I would no longer be obsessed by food, I would have never believed a word of it. If you would have told me that one day I would give up sugar, I would have told you that you had the wrong girl. If you would have told me that I would no logger be plagued by, “when, where, what and how much do I get to eat, I would have told you, “Not in this lifetime.” But all of those things, and so much more has happed. My life is so great that I can’t believe it’s mine. Food is simply not that big of a deal to me any more, and I am so blessed to have this wonderful “tool” to help me succeed I’m free! I’m happy and really; the weight loss, those 60 pounds; that is “secondary.” YES; secondary; the peace of mind; that’s the PRIMARY benefit. Dropping 60 pounds in 5 months; that is simply an added bonus. I’m free! I’m happy and I am so BLESSED! So, all of you people who whine about liquid diets, or not getting to eat a bunch of junk or having to work out, or gaining weight, or the pain and discomfort of eating too fast or not chewing enough, or stretch marks, or not being able to pig out like you used to on holidays or special occasions…ENOUGH ALREADY! SHUT UP! I GET SO SICK OF THE UNGRATEFUL ATTITUDES! IF the bad is not working for you, it’s probably for one or two of the following reasons: You need a fill. You’re drinking with meals. You’re not working out. You’re not eating “protein” first, or taking in enough protein.. You’re “grazing” or eating a bunch of height/empty caloric foods You’re not “listening to your body,” when it tells you that you’ve had enough to eat. You’re not using the band as a “tool;” You’re expecting the band to do everything for you. Being banded is not a lifestyle change; it’s a lifestyle OVERHAUL. So, in life; if you're not getting the results you want, either change what you're doing or live with.

June 1, 2009

8

The Band isn't working?

Okay...so, I wasn’t trying to judge or come across as harsh in my previous blog, and for MONTHS I’ve read so MUCH B.S…and I didn’t blog anything “negative,” because I didn’t want to be negative, or hurt anyone's feelings. But for the love of Kirstie Ally, people; let’s all just ‘fess up and be honest! For those who have legitimate problems with their band...for those who have worked and struggled, and continue to work and struggle (and, yes, it will continue to be a struggle, and NO Virginia, there is no magic-cure-all-procedure…you stand a better chance of there actually being a Santa Claus.) For everyone who needs to hear some encouraging words every once in a while, or for people who have simple questions or suggestions; for the pre-ops and post-ops (can you hear the national anthem playing in the background?...) this site is a great place. HOWEVER… for the people (and you know who you are,) who whine and cry and bitch and moan because they: · Can't seem to stop drinking sodas, and then proclaim that: the band isn’t working. · It's day 3 post op, and even though they’ve managed to puree lasagna and a Bundt cake and drink it through a straw, they CAN'T understand why: the band isn’t working. · Their friends and family aren't supportive and they don't understand. They continue to insist upon having fried chicken and mashed potatoes, sweet corn casserole, yeast rolls and fried okra every Friday night, and they simply can’t tell them “no.” I mean never mind the fact that they sabotage the Bandsters efforts and don’t need to be eating that unhealthy crap…they fix the food anyway, eat the food, and then complain that the band isn’t working. · Instead of eating protein first, they eat a big plate of loaded up nachos because the extra cheese and meat and melted cheese, and cheese IS protein, and then; SURPRISE, they don’t lose any weight and of course; the band isn’t working. · Just can’t seem to get into working out in any way shape or form, and so, it must be that: the band isn’t working. News Flash: most Bandsters; we don’t get “into” working out either, but we do it; not because it’s fun or makes us feel alive or at peace with the world, but because we know we have to. · Kind of, sort of went a little crazy celebrating Vernal Equinox day, their niece’s graduation, their best friends, sister’s son’s Bris, or that most recent holiday and grazed 24/7 on crap that they KNOW they shouldn’t’ t have been eating, and now: the band isn’t working. · They count alcohol as part of their water intake…Eight, 8 ounce glasses of Peach Stoli and tonic a day!...but: the band isn’t working. · They figure that since they’ve had the band, and even though it’s been stressed that it is just a tool and, that they have to eat three small meals a day...of lean, healthy foods, and become physically active, that they can continue to do things way they’ve always done it, somehow get completely different results, because hey, when they tell everyone how the band works and what to do, they weren’t really talking to them…just everybody else, and by the way; the band isn’t working. So, yeah…there it is. For all you pre-ops who may be reading this, take heart; the BAND DOES WORK...as a wonderful, life changing tool. You do your part and it will work. For all of you post-ops and Bandsters; the BAND DOES WORK…as a wonderful, life changing tool...You do your part…really do your part and it will work.

June 1, 2009

8

Sing this loud and proud. I hope it makes you smile.

Lap Band Survival (Sung to the tune of "I Will Survive") At first I was afraid. I was petrified. But then I got so sick and tired of my fat butt and thighs. And I spent oh so many nights with dreams of skinny size 9 jeans, and I decided to do something really special just for me. And so I’m banded. I’m on week one. I live on chicken broth and jello, but I know this can be done. I’m gonna tuck in all my shirts. I’m gonna buy myself a thong. thought my bikini days were over, but I’m thinking I was wrong! And now I’ll go, to walk a mile or two. I might even break into a run, ‘cause there’s nothing I can’t do. I’ll have no more bread or pop, but I’ll have all those sales to shop, and I’ll survive. I will survive. Hey. Hey

December 27, 2008

8

I may be fat, but I'm not stupid...well, not THAT stupid.

So…today…I can hardly wait to get to my doctor’s office. I want to see how much I’ve lost almost as much almost as much as I want that first fill. But, alas, I have the WRONG DAY. AGGGGGH! I can’t believe it! Lack of food is affecting my brain; either that or I’m just not that smart. And, they wouldn’t even let me WEIGH. I though I was gonna’ rush those scales. I’m still a big girl; what could they have done? Then…I go to the “Y” to work out, and I’m busting out 2.2 miles on the treadmill. I hot and sweaty and athletic and stinky and feeling great. I go to the shower and clean up. I reach for my clothes, but alas, I forgot my JEANS! AGGGGGHHHH! Now, I KNOW I cannot be that stupid, but I guess I am. So…I re-put on my gross, disgusting sweat pants and go right next door to buy a pair of jeans. I head straight to the “Fat Girl” section. I flip through the jeans. I look for my size, and guess what? You will not believe this; there on the little tag which should read 18, 20, 22, 24 is a “2”. What the HELL? I pick up the jeans. Clearly, they are “Fat Girl” jeans. I put them back and pick up another pair, just as large…maybe larger. The tag reads a “2!” Another pair of jeans and the tag reads a “4”. This is CRAZY. I rummaging through the jeans like a mad woman. Hangers are flying, but it’s all the same. Fat Girl jeans and none of the tags read higher than a 6! Well I may be fat, but I’m not stupid…at least not that stupid. I see what we’re doing, and it is so unbelievably ridiculous. I mean, really? REALLY? If a big pair of jeans has a size 2 tag, are we really supposed to believe as we stare at the backside of these trousers, which are by the way, at least 3 feet wide, that they are a SIZE 2? Are we supposed to feel better? If that’s the case then why bother to diet and exercise or have the lap band at all? Why not just change the tags out in the back of our clothes? It reminds me of going into a Lane Bryant store…which I don’t do anymore, for this very reason. All of the mannequins that are dressed in the Fat Girl clothes have the clothes pinned up in the back. It’s like they’re saying, “Look, loooooook…buy these size 20’s and this is what you’ll look like in them.” Yeah…right? So, let me get this straight, Lane Bryant; I’m good enough that you’ll take my money, but you don’t want my “true” body type portrayed. Anyway; I feel much better now. Nothing like a good “rant” to cleanse the soul.

January 19, 2009

7

WOOOOOO-HOOOOOO! My first fill and 16 pounds gone!

I went for my first fill today, and bounded onto the scales. I was ready! I took my shoes off and Tiffany (my favorite nurse, EVER,) said, "Socks too." I was like, "Honey, if I could get by with it, I'd be on the scales, BUCK NAKED! So, I was hoping for a 15 pound loss, but got 16! Elation! Bliss! Joy! I go in for my first fill and made the grave mistake of looking where my Dr. stuck the needle in. It didn't hurt, but I have a serious aversion to "looking" at needles or blood. So, I look away; quickly, and just when I think I won't puke and/or pass out, my Dr. says, "I need you to sit up and come over here to the x-ray machine. OMG, I can kind of see the needle poking out of my port. I look away; quickly...but not quickly enough. I'm standing there drinking that stuff, and just when I'm hoping that I won't puke and/or pass out, there's the needle, on the x-ray screen! I'm hanging in there, and looking at the ceiling, and finally I say, "Is it okay if I sit down?" My Doctor tells me that I can sit because we're through, and just when I think that maybe I won't puke and/or pass out, he comes over and just pops that needle out! Jeez! But, after some apple juice I was good to go. Nothing could get me down after that; not even learning that I have to be on liquids until tomorrow and I don't get to have any spaghetti tonight. Oh well, no worries. I'm just glad to be on this journey!

January 21, 2009

7

Leaving the doctor's office and crying.

Today is 4 months to the day since I was banded, and the day that I went for my four month weigh in. And here's something strange; recently, I've been having these feelings of "sadness" every month. I couldn't figure out what was going on' everything would be going great, and then "wham;" a dark cloud. Finally, I figured it out, and here's how the madness would begin. I only weigh once a month... (I HIGHLY recommend it, btw.) Anyway, when it would get down to a couple of days before my "weigh day" the sadness would start, and this never happened until I they found my "sweet spot." So, here's the deal; when I walk around and feel "full," I automatically think that I've been binging. Then I think about how I've gone back to my old ways, and I can't believe I did that, and God only knows how much weight I'll gain when I go to the doctor's office. See, I'm not used to feeling full without overeating, and that's what was bringing me down. I've had to keep a food journal, so that I can look back and prove to myself that I haven't overeaten. Then, when I think, "Crap! I've messed this up," I can look back and go, "Oh, okay; I've only eat 1200 calories a day, so I'm good." Fast forward to today, and even though I know better, I have been stressing like crazy about weighing. I get on the scale, and of course I know what I need to weigh. I shoot for 2 lbs a week, so I know I need to weigh 225. The readout on the scale was 223! And I think, "How can that be? How can that possibly be? I'm not starving. I'm not constantly obsessing about food. I'm not angry or cranky, so how can it be that I've lost 48 pounds? So, I hop off the scale, grab the nurse and give her a big hug, then head out the door. As I get to my car I start to cry. I just can't believe how great my life is and how much everything has changed.

April 23, 2009

7

Life lessons learned.

No I ain't had nothing to drink I knew that’s probably what you'd think If I dropped by this time of night Remember way back when I promised you I'd drop in At one of those meetings down at the Y Well, they started talkin bout steps you take Mistakes you make The hearts you break And the price you pay I almost walked away You could hear a pin drop When this old man Stood up and said I'm gonna' say it again Like I do every week For those who don't know me (Chorus) It's the simple things in life Like the kids at home and a loving wife That you miss the most, when you lose control And everything you love starts to disappear The devil takes your hand and says no fear Have another shot, just one more beer Yah, I've been there, that's why I'm here This ole boy stood up in the aisle Said he'd been living a life of denial And he cried as he talked about wasted years I couldn't believe what I heard It was my life word for word And all of the sudden it was clear (Repeat Chorus) That’s one of my favorite songs. It’s written and performed by Kenny Chesney, and for a long time I couldn’t hear it without crying; sometimes, I still can’t. I know it’s about alcoholism, but it’s also about me and my eating disorder. So many times, I thought, “I got this. I’m in control. I’m NOT an addict. I’m not ill.” Then there was the time when I lost 71 lbs. on Weight Watchers, and I was convinced that I was “fixed.” I was cured. I wasn’t “that” person anymore, and I was never going back; ever…but, I did. The devil definitely took my hand and I thought, “Just this once.” “Just this once” led to a downhill slide and a massive weight gain. I spent years beating myself up over that. I could not believe that after all that hard work that I blew it, like that. And then, my darkest days began. I felt as though my eating was so much bigger than me. It was something separate from me, that I couldn’t control. I hated life. Every day was a struggle of when do I eat/how much do I get to eat/when will I get to eat again/ what is there to eat? Worst of all, I knew that if I ever did get it together, that it wouldn’t stay together. And I hated everyone; but no one as much as myself...I really hated me. I think that everyone has to have their “moment of truth.” Mine came for me at 3:00 in the morning, watching a show on WLS. I remember thinking, “Life doesn’t have to be this hard.” I pretty much decided right then, that I was going to do this thing. You know, I would have NEVER thought that anything positive could have came from that 71 lb. weight gain, but I was wrong; several positive life lessons came from that. I learned that just when you think you’ve got your demon under control, and you get so high and mighty and complacent that it will rear its ugly head and kick your ass. I learned what to look out for, and what foods that I can’t handle; foods that are “triggers” for overeating. I learned that I am WAY stronger than I ever imagined. Lastly, I learned that the weight loss is secondary for me. The main thing is that I’m free. I’m free from the prison known as my eating disorder. And life is good. Life is very good.

April 8, 2009

7

Sorry, but I have to say this...

I hate to be negative, I really do, but I HAVE to say this: I cannot understand WHY people want to post pictures of thier incisions. They all basically look alike...4 or 5 little holes and an incision about 3-4 inches long. It's not like anyone on the forum sees those pix and goes, "Wow, look at that! I've never seen anything like it! It's so interesting, so intriguing, so amazing!" A fat tummy, a few little puncture holes and a little gash. If I want to see that then I can pull up my own shirt and look. Now, if the incisions were all grouped together and formed an outline of Jesus or something, then that might be different...even the Virgin Mary. Or, if you could gaze into the incisions and fortell the future, or make out the winning lotto numbers, or connect with loved ones that have passed; that would be good...but otherwise; I just don't get it.

March 3, 2009

7

Hello all!

Finally! I'm back online. So sorry, it's been so long, but my life has been CRAZY lately! However, through it all, I just keep thinking how much better everything is! Honestly, and maybe it's because I'm a recovering addict (YES, I said it! I am an addict...a recovering addict...a food addict, and yep, food addiction can ruin your life as easily as any other addiction can!) that I am just so damn grateful for every single day of "sobriety." And let me tell you, I don't think anyone is as grateful for sobriety as an addict that's relapsed, gotten back up, and reclaimed their lives. I am a firm believer that out of every horrible situation, something beautiful is born, and the beauty of topping out at 271lbs is finding your own truth and standing back up one more time. Yes, I am unemployed, denied my unemployment benefits, preparing for a wrongful termination lawsuit, had a flat tire yesterday, getting ready to perform my annual fundraiser for AIDS awareness, I have to do my own roots, the puppy isn't housebroken, I don't get to go to the George Strait concert...all of this WITHOUT SUGAR, but by GOD, I'm not FAT ANYMORE! My life is so good, I can't belive it's mine! My surgeon hadn't seen me since I was three months out, and when I went in for a fill he went on and on about how proud he is. And, get this; he wants me to speak to groups getting ready to be banded!'' So hang in there, brothers and sisters. Life is beautiful and you can do this! P.S If you wanna', I have some WLS vids on youtube; That Crazy Fat Chick. But, be warned; I don't play. I tell it like it is. Kisses! Celebrate every lost ounce!

February 6, 2010

6

I wear a size 18!

I wear a size 18! At last! Finally! I can fit into, without laying down on the bed to get the zipper up, or having to suck in to an unnatural degree... A SIZE 18! Happy days are here right damn now because I no longer wear anthing in the 20's. Oh yes, I may still shop in the fat girl section, but not for very much longer, because I wear a size 18! I think I will go and tell a total stranger on the street tomorrow that I wear a size 18. I don't even care if they look at me like I've lost my mind...I'm sort of used to that anyway. I don't care if they look at me like, "A size 18? Why, that's a fat size." I don't care because it's not a fat size to me. To me, it's a wonderful, beautiful, delightfully slenderishly, too hot to be believed size. All hail the size 18 GODDESS THAT I AM!

February 2, 2009

6

Alert the media!

At LAST...I CAN SEE MY TOES! I can see my toes. I can see my toes. I...can...see...my...TOOOOOOHHHHHHHHZZZZZ! I remember when I started this journey, I stand in my bathroom, butt assed nekkid (that's Southern for naked,) and I'd but my toes on a line of tile. Then I'd straighten up and look down. Nothing. I'd suck in...HARD, and look down. Nothing. Month after month I'd line my toes up and look down. Still nothing...damnit! And yesterday. I lined my piggies up. I looked down, expecting...nothing. And BAM! There they were! My toes! I counted all ten of them. And then today, I went to class at the University. I have to take these summer classes for my licensure. I remembered so many years ago, when I'd squeeze into those damn, tiny assed desks! God, I hated that! I felt so freakin' HUGE! "Stuffed" into a desk. I'd look around and it seemed no one else was having that problem with the desk...just me. I'd think, "You're so lucky and you don't even know it; to NOT have to wrestle with these desks." So, today, I trot my size 14 ass in that class...and I sat down in that desk. NOTHING, and I mean NOTHING touched me, or squooshed me, or squeezed me! I slid in. Do you hear me? I slid in? And then I got back up and sat down in the desk a few more time, just because I COULD! I think a few of the other students may have thought I was a bit mental, but I don't care. And, as if it couldn't get any better...yesterday I was in my favorite thrift store and when I said hello to a friend of mine, she said, "I saw your van out there, but I didn't see you, because I didn't recognize you. You've lost so much weight!" I wanted to scream, " I know, right! It's it awesome?" Instead, I just said thanks. Oh, life is SO GOOD. Next stop; ONEDERLAND! BTW, If you wanna, check out my video blogs on youtube; That crazy fat chick.

July 11, 2009

6

The hardest thing about being banded

The hardest thing for me to deal with after being banded is that I’ve had to learn how to live my life without “using” food. Not that I’m trying to be dramatic, but I consider myself to be a recovering addict, and that’s pretty much something that no one goes over with you in pre-op orientation. For the longest time, I couldn’t figure out why I would have periods ranging from slight sadness to extreme anger, and it would happen all of a sudden. Then, the other day, after an explosive confrontation with someone, it came to me so clearly: I’m having to deal with, cope with life without my “crutch.” It’s like being an alcoholic or a recovering drug addict. I mean, I could make any situation so much better for the time it took to wallow in some food. Bad day, argument with my husband, coworkers driving me crazy, overdrawn bank account…whatever…no worries…give me a cheeseburger from the Sonic, a large order of onion rings, a route 44 Slushy and a bag of Hershey’s kisses with almonds and my world could come crashing down around me, and I’d die smiling; but no more. Now, I have to deal with things…REALLY deal with them. I see things clearly…too clearly at times. But hey, I’ll gladly learn how to live this way, and I mean “gladly”; gratefully, happily and gladly.

April 16, 2009

6

Sweeter words were never spoken.

A few weeks ago, my I was shopping around some funky, little shops with my daugther. I was ready to leave so, I called her and started out the door. She catches up to me on the sidewalk and say, "I couldn't find you. You've lost so much weight that I didn't recognize you from the back!" I gave a delirious shriek and did a little happy dance, right there in downtown Chatt. This morning, I'm getting ready to go to work and I have on this cute little bolero type jacket. When I bought this little number, about 3 weeks ago, it was snug, but it worked; this morning I had to MOVE THE BUTTONS, to make it TIGHTER! That's right! You heard me! So my totally hot husband says, "I've been able to tell that you're getting thinner when I put my arms around you, but since I see you every day, it's harder for me to tell just by looking at you...until this morning! I could really tell, just by looking at you this morning!" I was so ecstatic at hearing this, that had I not already been dressed and ready for work, I would have given him a little "something-something" right then and there! As I'm leaving work this afternoon, a co-worker walks up to me and tell me how good I'm looking. Then she says, "Last week, when you were on duty, I didn't know who you were. I looked down the hall, and thought, who is that?" I gave her the little happy dance too! Life is good, SO GOOD! Life is GOOD!

March 12, 2009

5

My Red High Heels!

TODAY…is the day that I wore high heels to school. Oh, but not just any high heels…oh no, these were…are you ready for this: red, glittered, sandal, stilettos! The heels on these bad girls must be at least 4-5 inches. I get up, get dressed in this really cute black and white, polka dotted sundress; with red piping…very retro 1950’s looking. I bought it at spring of this year and it was tight…now it fits fine. I had to wear a little black shrug so that I’d be in dress code…I’m a teacher…can’t be showing too much skin around Middle School boys with raging hormones! So, I was just about to go for my “cute”, medium heeled black shoes when I saw those red glittery ones. Now, I do not have to tell you how unbearably painful wearing high heels can be when you’re fat. I mean, the only reason I had these shoes was for a show I perform and the second I hit the wings of the stage I’d kick those shoes off. God! The Agony! But, no more! One of my teacher friends was like, “Your feet are going to be killing you today.” To which I replied, “I’ve waited a long damn time to be able to wear heels again and I might just wear these bitches everywhere I go…to work, to check the mail, to take out the trash, to the pool, to church, to water the garden, grocery shopping…hell, I might sleep in them. I may never take them off…EVER! So today, whenever anyone said, “You look beautiful,” I simply smiled happily and said, “Thank You.” Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!

August 21, 2009

5

Help!

The other day my husband tried to kill me. To his credit, he was very clever in his attempt. He hatched his evil plan innocently enough by encouraging me to work out with him at a “spin class.” He approached me earlier in the week and asked me if I would like to go to spin class with him. I expressed my concerns. “I’m afraid I’m not in shape for this.” “What if I become so exhausted that I fall off the bike and humiliate myself?” “I don’t look good in bike shorts.” “The only biking I’ve ever done is when my car has been in the shop and it’s imperative that I get to my destination…my destination being Dairy Queen, or someplace like that.” “You know I hate sweating…in particular the dreaded thigh sweating that will inevitably occur during this class.” None of these excuses worked…and besides, my husband is super HOT, so he was able to convince me to give it a try. Oh, you should have seen him making sure that I was ready for class; getting me a towel, adjusting my bike seat, making sure that my bike’s handle bars were placed just so, checking the resistance on the bike. Little did I know that he was he was getting me ready, alright…getting me ready to DIE! The music started. The too- peppy- for- her own good- impossibly well conditioned- instructor arrived, and we got on our bikes. I was great…for about 30 seconds; then it hit me. My undoing wasn’t to be any of my aforementioned concerns, no, my undoing was going to be the tiny, yet rock hard bike seat that was cutting into my ass. I looked at my husband. He smiled at me sweetly. I chose to ignore the searing pain in my butt. Alas, the more we peddled, the happier everyone looked and the more intense the pain became. I looked around. No one else seemed to be having the same problem as myself. Looking across the room, I spied a women whose ass was almost ass big as mine. She sort of reminded me of me, but with one major exception; she was peddling happily. I wondered: was she faking it? Did she have an “I love exercise” Mission Impossible mask on? You know, the ones that look just like your actual face, but they’re really only a ruse, meant to fool people? What I really wanted to know was how all of these people could NOT be in the same pain as me. What really boggled my brain was how all of the skinny people could not be in pain. I mean, let’s face it; if you’ve got a big, well padded behind that should work to your advantage, but I was dying, and how all those riders with NO padding could take it, was beyond me. I turned to my husband and said, “I can’t take this. My ass is killing me. My husband then told me something that I can only assume was meant to relieve me. “Well, you won’t be sitting the whole time.” And friends, even though I hated life at that very moment, don’t think that I didn’t find the hysterical absurdity in his statement. I began to laugh wildly. After I finally caught my breath, I said, “You don’t really think I’m going to be able to actually stand up on this bike and peddle do you?” However, as my ass began to go numb I decided to try and stand and peddle in order to alleviate the pain. It was sort of like trying to hoist a 200 pound bag of wet sand. I sat back down and peddled some more. Surely I could make it through this. After 5 more excruciating minutes I turned back to my husband, who was now looking not as much hot as diabolical.” I can’t do this.” I said again. “Is your resistance all the way down he asked?” “It’s not my resistance,” I all but screamed, “It’s my ass! My ass is numb! Numb! Do you hear me?” He looked at me calmly, “Hang in there. You’ll get used to it.” I would’ve stopped peddling the bike right then and gotten of f, but at that point the entire lower half of my body had lost feeling. I mentally willed my legs to stop turning the peddles. As I hobbled off the bike, and staggered out of the room I turned to my killer/husband. “Oh, I’ll never get used to it…NEVER.”

February 16, 2009

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The ugly truth of the matter...

Okay, so here is the ugly truth that I’ve been trying not to blog about. Yes, I am down 64 pounds, since being banded December 22, 2008… (I’m thinking about changing my birthday to that day, by the way…except then, I’d be one of those poor unfortunate souls who have their B.Ds close to Christmas…and that would suck) Anyway, I go into my doctor’s office for my 6 month weight in, and do keep in mind that I can almost pinpoint exactly how much I’m going to lose. So, I’m putting my weight loss at about 12 lbs. I get on the scales and I’m down from 213 to 207. “What the HELL?” I wanted to scream. Ohhhhh, I was pissed/upset. I thought about DEMANDING that the nurse weight me again because there had to be something wrong with those scales…all of a sudden. Of course, I didn’t think there was anything wrong with those same scales when I was losing more weight…hmmmm… Then I thought that I could strip out of my clothes real quick, and jump back on the scales for one more try. You know, like best 2 out of 3 or something. I mean, there had to be something wrong! Maybe that nurse forgot to “clear” the last person’s weight out…like a calculator. Or maybe…just maybe…I had not lost as much as I wanted because I had slacked off…No. That couldn’t be it; I so desperately wanted to believe. But deep down in my gut…which was not near as big as it was 6 months ago, I knew the truth, and here it is: Once an addict; always an addict. Sorry, but it’s true. And I know that Tiffany (My girl that does my “how’s it going with your band?” talk) thought I was being a greedy selfish pig…which I was. When I told her why I was upset, she told me how proud she was of me. Tiff: You’ve lost 64 pounds! That’s so awesome. Me: (pouting) I know, but I wanted to lose more. Tiff: No. You don’t need to lose anymore. You don’t need to lose it too fast. Me: I wanted to lose more. Tiff: But, you’re doing so great. The 6 month average is 50 pounds. You’re on the high end of that. Me: I wanted to lose more. Tiff: But, your fat percentage is down. Maybe your body is just trying to take a break. Me: I wanted to lose more…I wanted to lose MORE…I WANTED TO LOSE MORE!!! I didn’t go quite like that, but pretty close. The thing that bugged me was this: I gave up sugar when I got banded, but Good Humor makes these wonderful little sugar free ice cream pops, and well, you know me…a big ole’ food addict, that of course kidded myself into thinking that I could handle it. So, for the past month my breakfast consists of at least two of those pops. Yeah….there’s twelve pops in a box and I can go through that in about 2 days. And here’s the really messed up part: I count my calories. I don’t eat over 1200 a day, but that sort of defeats the purpose when I’m scarfing 600 of those daily calories in SUGAR FREE ICE CREAM POPS. And…it’s not like I’m not 47 YEARS OLD AND KNOW BETTER THAN THIS! And that, my dears, is the REAL reason that my weight loss wasn’t as good as it should have been was because of me…me, me, me! So yeah, Once an addict; always an addict. But let me tell you something, I didn’t get my fat ass kicked the last time when I lost all that weight and gained it back for nothing. I know when the game is up, and the game was definitely up! I went home and flushed the rest of the heroin down the toilet…Oh, did I just refer to those empty caloried ice cream pops as “heroin?” Yeah, there’s a reason for that…I got rid of all the “stuff,” and knew it was over. Yeah, I still wanted to cry when I threw it out. It was like getting rid of the vestiges of love affair gone bad. I wanted to cry after that ice cream, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s not you. It’s me. I love you. I love you. I LOVE YOU…WAHHHHHHHH. Don’t leave me! It’s gone, and it’s gone forever. Sometimes I wish I could be “normal,” but I’ll settle for happy. I’m okay though. Damn, I miss that ice cream.

June 28, 2009

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A short farewell to my beloved sugar free ice cream.

To the tune of Let's just kiss and say goodbye. I had to throw you in the trash, Or I would have eaten you in a flash. This hurts me more than you could know, But this is it! You’ve got to go! You’re my heart, yes, you’re my soul, But I have no self control. As much as I want you in my life, Let’s just kiss and say good-bye.

June 28, 2009

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A yummy summer beverage recipe!

Oh, I almost forget. Here’s a recipe for a refreshing summer smoothie that I enjoy frequently…especially since giving up my beloved sugar free ice cream bars. Fill your blender about ½ to capacity with fresh seedless watermelon. Add ½ can of unsweetened pineapple. Add ½ packet of any sugar free, fruit punch drink mix. Make sure it’s the 2 quart sized packet, and not those singles for bottled water. Add two or three packets of artificial sweetner. Fill blender the rest of the way with water and ice. Give it whir and enjoy. Besides, it’s the only way you can eat watermelon and pineapple now that you’re banded! Cheers!

June 28, 2009

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No more shopping in the "fat girl" section!

I go for my 5 month weigh in this Friday, and I can't wait! The decision to be "banded" was the best decision I've ever made! At my last weigh in, almost a month ago, I hit my 4 month Bandiversary, and was down 48 pounds! I started out at 271 and had lost down to 223. I'm pretty good at knowing about how much I'm going to lose every month...yep, I only weigh ONCE a month. For me, I know I'm doing everything I'm supposed to be doing, so I don't see the point in weighing anymore than that. So, I'm thinking I'll probably lose about 10lbs and that will put me at almost 60 down! I've always said that the weight loss is "secondary" for me; it's the sanity and the peace of mind that's the real payoff in my life...however, I will say this: I, Wendy Tippens, who hasn't ventured out of the "plus size" section for at least 4 years, now gets to shop in the MISSES section. I also get to "tuck in." My clothes do not have elastic anymore, but ZIPPERS! Do you hear me? ZIPPERS! Can I see my toes yet? NO! Do I care? HELL, NO! I'll get there, but what's the rush? For right now, let me revel in the beauty of actually getting to "shop!" I don't mean choosing between what looks like a shower curtain made into a dress, or a caftan like my memaw used to wear; No! I get to shop. I get to stand at a rack of clothing between the sizes of 14-16 (sometimes even a 12!) and happily flip those hangers for hours if I want. And I might do just that. I might just take a day off and look at garment after garment after garment. I think I'll try each and every one of them on. Do I have any intention of buying? Nope! I just want to spend the day in the "normal" section and try on every single damn article of clothing I can find. Why?...BECAUSE I CAN...because...I...can.

May 19, 2009

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Oh, what a difference a year makes!

I’m in New Orleans; in the French Quarter…now…right now! I am typing this blog from my hotel room as you read. Nyal’leens is a very cool place…not as great-awesome-I-must-have-died-and-gone-to-heaven-fantastic as NYC, but very nice all the same. Of course, maybe I’m not being fair. Maybe I can’t really give Nyal-leens it’s due, because I’m experiencing so many amazing “firsts.” This is the first time that I’ve ever gone on vacation and been totally bummed because I forgot my running shoes. This is the first time that I’ve gone on vacation, and although, I do still have “hammy” arms, I’m not worried about it, AND hell yes, I go sleeveless. But most importantly…and this is HUGE; this is the first time that I’ve gone on vacation and been off sugar AND not completely obsessed over food for the right reasons. I’ll explain. In the past I’ve gone on vacation and not obsessed over food. Yes; that is true. But I didn’t obsess because I was eating…everything. So, there was nothing to obsess over. I was all out, no holds barred, eating. The times that I went on vacation and obsessed about food was when I had either just came off of a diet, or I was on a diet, but had taken “vacation week” off from dieting and/or eating right. You know how that goes. “I’m going on vacation and it will just be too hard to be on a diet. “I’m not going to go on vacation and NOT eating. That’s crazy. I only go on vacation once a year.” “God, I’ve worked so hard on this diet so that I can fit into this ridiculously tiny bikini to impress a bunch of people that I don’t know and will never see again, and now that I made my goal I can eat!...of course I’ll only eat while I’m on this vacation, and the minute I get back home I’ll cut out all the junk…but that means when I actually pull into my driveway; not on the way home, but when I GET home…unless of course, we get home on a Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday or Sunday because I can’t cut all the vacation eating halfway through the week…I’ll just wait until Monday. Everyone knows that Monday is the official “I’m back on my diet and/or eating healthy” day. Now, in the past, when I had employed any of these excuses/strategies I would get CRAZY. I’d be obsessing about food because I had deprived myself for soooo long and food was the ultimate reward, so I’d obsess over what kind of off limits goodies I was going to eat. Also, I’d know that I only had vacation to eat this way, so I’d gorge myself…because I’d have to go on a diet/start eating right when I got back home, and even if I didn’t want the food I’d know that I’d be kicking myself come Monday. I knew I’d be thinking, “Damn, I KNEW should’ve eating that huge dessert that I didn’t have room for when I had the chance! Yes, it would have made me sick, but who cares? Now it’s MONDAY and I can’t HAVE IT! *One time, I was on a family vacation in Daytona Beach, and I had just come off of this horrible starvation diet (I was 23, 5’7 and weighed 114) I know, crazy, right? So, we were at this restaurant; Captain Cody’s, and I had already eaten a full mean, and I was stuffed…but I wanted dessert, so I ordered it. I want you to know, that I was so stuffed and miserable that I could not stay awake at the table! I put my head down and nodded off. Yes! I was Thanksgiving Day full, and when they brought my dessert I roused myself awake and ate it! But this year…for the first time in my 47 year old life I went on vacation and food was not a big deal. Let me just say that again because it just feels so damn good; I went on vacation (and was off sugar,) and FOOD WAS NO BIG DEAL! I’m a lucky girl!

June 30, 2009

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A day worth working and waiting for.

Today was one of the best days of my life! I’ve waited so long for this day; a day I though would never come. My, my hubby and my daughter went to Jack’s Falls (I posted some pix in photo section, if you wanna take a look.) We hiked 3 miles in, swam and played at the Falls and then hiked 3 miles out. Was it ungodly hot? Yes. Did I sweat out every ounce of liquid in me? Oh yeah. Am I bruised and exhausted? More than you could possibly imagine. Was it everything I dreamed it would be? Oh, yes! You know, I still have over 50 lbs. to lose and I was by far the oldest woman and fattest woman up there, but I felt like a supermodel! I was rockin’ that size 12, red, Jantzen one piece. I had no problem hoisting my curves up those rocks and climbing to the top of the falls. I stood on the huge rock, felt the moss beneath my toes, the rush of the water against my legs, readied myself to jump and I thought, “It really is amazing how much your life can change in a year.”

August 10, 2009

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My Party

Someday...soon, when I don't have to shop in the "fat girls" section, I will throw a big party. The invites will read, "Your invited to my I don't have to shop in the fat girls' section anymore." Guests don't have to bring a gift, but they do have to "gush" about how much weight I've lost, before I'll let them in. At the party I will wear my clothing inside out and backwards, so that everyone can easily see that I'm not a 1,2 or 3x anymore. Then we will all gather round' and my guests will sing, "For she's not shopping in the fat girls' section. For she's not shopping in the fat girls' section. For she's not shopping in the fat girls' section; this nobody can deny." Hell, I may even make them sing that a few times; who knows?

January 4, 2009

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10 more lbs. gone forever, for a grand total off?38lbs!

I went to today for my 3rd weigh in/fill and was down another 10 pounds! Wooooo-hooooo! Every time I zip up a size 18, I still can’t believe it! It’s strange that I can pretty much predict down to the pound how much I’m going to loose every month…and yes, I only weight once a month. My mom asked me if I’d lost as much as I was hoping for, and I told her, “yes,” because even though I was hoping to loose 12-15 lbs, I knew that was unrealistic, and I knew going in that I was going to be down about 10 lbs. And really, when you think about it, what difference is two more pounds going to make? It’s not. It’s not like people won’t notice that you’ve lost 38 pounds, but they WILL notice 40? A steady loss of 2 lbs. a week is fine with me, hell, it’s more than fine; it’s GREAT! So, here’s what’s weird…and this is sooooo difficult to explain to people who haven’t been banded. At my last fill, I actually felt real restriction, so for the first time in my life, I don’t obsess over food. I don’t binge. I don’t eat and eat and eat and then eat some more. Food has become a non-issue. When anyone asks where I want to eat, I tell them I don’t care; because I really don’t. It’s just not a big deal. So, what’s the problem? Here’s the problem: For almost my entire life I’ve been an addict. My eating disorder had as much of a hold on me as heroin would have on a junkie, or booze would have on an alcoholic. Now, when I’m not hungry, or I’m satisfied…when I’m not “using” food, I associate that feeling with “binging”. Does that make sense? It’s just that it’s been that way for SO long, that my mind has trouble accepting that I’m satisfied and not hungry, and it’s NOT because I’ve eaten everything in sight…it’s because I’m banded. So, I’ve walked around these past 5 weeks thinking, “Shit! I can’t believe I did that! How could I have eaten all that food? How could I go back to “using?” Then, I have to actively remind myself that I haven’t gone back to my old ways; I haven’t binged. It’s just strange…a good strange, but very unsettling all the same. And, get this; I go in and tell my nurse that I don’t think I need a fill, but I’m not sure. She hooks me up and has me drink the “stuff,” and she says, “Oh yeah, you need a fill.” I ask her how she can tell, and she says that she can tell by how easily the liquid is going down. So, as I’m getting ready to leave, she reminds me that I won’t be back for three months, but if I need a fill I need to let them know. My thing is this; I won’t know if I need a fill. I didn’t know this time! I tell her this and she says, “Well if you find yourself getting hungry, then you know you need a fill.” O.K…I didn’t get hungry this time. And I won’t get hungry next time. I guess what I do, is just push it out of my head and ignore it. I joke around that I’m really good at being hungry, but I guess, it’s not a joke. It’s kind of pathetic in a way; I’m so used to being hungry that it’s normal now. Ah well, I guess that’s a concept only a former fat kid can grasp. At any rate, I will close saying this: My life is so GREAT that I can’t believe it’s MINE!

March 26, 2009

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