Ya'll, it's a great day to be alive! Today was awesome, the birds were tweeting, the sun was shining and a gentle breeze ruffled the trees. I kicked some serious butt at work and am ready to go into a hectic weekend! I'm really glad that it's going to be such a crazy next few days, as that means that they will skip on by and then....IT'S SURGERY DAY!
We had some bigwigs coming through the store today, and they said that they LOVED our cake case! Rock on us decorators! Another reason today rocked was sparked by an absentminded comment I made to the payroll officer at work. She saw me filling out the PTO (paid time off) request form and asked me if I was going to be doing anything fun. I said that I was going to be out on leave for 2 weeks for surgery. Her reply was to ask me if I had short-term medical disability insurance and if so, why I wasn't using it for the 2nd week. Seriously, how did I not think about that? I have a ton of PTO hours saved up, but it'll save me 24 hours of PTO. Which rocks! It required a bit of paperwork, but I've gotten it all taken care of. Another cool thing was that I went to Michael's Art Supplies store for some new sketching pencils (I had scored a 40% off coupon) and then found out that sketch pads were 50% off! My current sketch pad sucks as it was super cheap, but my new one is really nice.
Overall a great day and I'm so excited about having surgery on Wednesday. I feel very calm and I know that this is the right decision. Life is good, and it's only going to get better!
The first days of the liquid diet suuuuucks. Running around the store, making cakes, and working next to a hot oven on liquids only is horrible. Seriously, cannibalism is looking good. Or I'm imagining that my cat would taste good with sweet and sour sauce (joke). *laughs* I was so hungry today that I definitely had a decorating theme going on! I did cupcakes with pigs, chickens, and some very cute and quizzical looking sheep today! They were super cute but everyone was making fun of me for having food on the brain. I hear that by day 3 things get better. I hope so as I feel light-headed and very Ms. Grumpy-pants. I think it would have been okay if the ice cream truck hadn't parked outside my apartment complex with its dastardly song for 20 minutes. I swear the ice cream truck song ignites a rather Pavlovian response in humans of any age! Somehow I don't think that peanut butter milkshakes are on the 'approved liquid list'. Oh well, only 5 more days to go!
The other day was my final pre-op nutrition class, along with my final pre-op doctor's class. The nutrition class was interesting if very, very long. One of the guys in the class pretty much told the nutritionist that he would eat whatever he wanted to, thank you very much. That kinda boggles the mind as it seems like you're setting yourself up for a rather expensive failure. Thank goodness I don't have that mindset.
I have a crazily busy week coming up. Hopefully the days will fly by quickly. Luckily I have plenty of B-rated horror movies to watch on my lovely day off today! Woot woot!
Did anybody get the number of the semi that just ran me over? My feet look like sausages that are about to bust out of their stuffing....they also kinda look like that time I thought I would be able to fit into this dress that I wore in college and ended up getting kinda stuck and having to do some advanced yoga moves (of which I don't know), and practically roll around in Crisco (just kidding...or am I? *waggles eyebrows*) to get myself out of it.
The alarm rang yesterday morning and up I popped with a whistle and a bounce in my step. We were ahead of orders at work and today was going to be a great day! Granted, I kind of had a budget-making panic attack the night before, but my mom talked me off the metaphorical ledge. Anyway, off I go to work and I'm there for a couple of hours when my boss runs up to me and asks me if I'm willing to go to another store 1.5 hours away because they need a cake decorator. The store had just opened and their cake decorator had an accident (not job related) so they were going through grand opening with nothing. Needless to say I wasn't exactly jumping at as I had PLANS for that evening (nefarious, minion-assassin-garden-gnome-needing plans for world domination!) and didn't want to drive 3 hours round trip. So then she sweetened the pot and said that our store manager would have me get paid time-and-a-half. Which is nice, but still not enough. Then she said they would also give me a non-taxed bonus. *grin*. Yeah, so I can be bought for that, plus paying my traveling expenses! I race to the other store and proceed to work a 13 hour day. Sheesh, my feet are STILL killing me!
Tomorrow I work and then drive to VA to spend the night as my last class and pre-op doctor's appointment starts at 7am on Tuesday. It's hard to believe that my surgery is week after next! WOOT WOOT!
Ladies and gentlemen, I would continue but I'm about to fall over I'm so sleepy. May you all have a fantastic Monday full of fun, adventure, and dragon hunting!
I consider myself an intelligent woman, but sometimes I really wonder where my marbles are! So I decided that I was going to be 'Proactive Girl' and start weaning myself off of solid food now instead of going cold turkey on Tuesday. Of course, I was more of the philosophy of "I got this" and jumped in with both feet. That scream you heard yesterday at about 3pm? That was my metaphorical chicken broth parachute getting a hole in it and metaphorically dropping me on my a$$.
So yesterday starts and I'm feeling all virtuous that I replaced both breakfast and lunch with one of my approved food groups. I can have things like broth, carnation instant breakfast, sugar/fat free pudding, under 5g sugar/fat free yogurt, cream of whatever soups etc. I just can't go over 20g of protein so that my liver shrinks away to nada. Of course I had run out of time the day before to get anything from the above list, which would make you think that I would just put it off for a day. Me, do something like that? Surely you jest! Luckily I had chicken broth that I had doctored with some cream of whatever and strained. So I had that for breakfast and lunch. Now I work in a busy store where I'm on my feet all day, work next to a hot convection oven which turns 'The Batcave' into 'The Alcove Of Despair From Over 100 Degree Temp', constantly moving, carrying 50 lb bags of whatnot and I've pedometered myself at walking about 3.5 miles at work in the course of an easy day. Can anybody guess what happened? Yep, all of a sudden the world got nice and bright and kinda floaty. No, I didn't faint or have the vapors (southern women don't faint, we engage in mortal combat with the floor) but I did get so birdbrained that when I got done putting gas in my car I forgot to put the lid and hatch back on the gas tank. Or I would forget what I was going to the back of the store for. So after talking to my dad, who had this surgery 2 months ago he kinda clued me that it was not one of my better ideas. Also, more water is needed when your body doesn't have enough fuel.
So today starts Day 2 of Easing Into The Liquid Diet. I went to the grocery store yesterday and got provisions so that I don't do my best Gone With The Wind impression at work. It's my long shift today so here's to hoping!
I hope everybody is having a phenomenal day and that your weekend is bright and shiny!
Today was a fantastic day off and I got a bunch done. While my liquid diet officially starts on the 18th I've decided to start meal replacing now so that my the 18th I will only have to stop eating 1 meal instead of 3. I made some chicken broth today (it's pretty good) and cleaned my house. For some reason I feel this nesting instinct and have been cleaning like a mad woman. My apartment does look great though....
I was talking to a fellow surgery sisters and asked if she ever walked around looking at different bodies and wished she could take a butt from that lady, the legs from another, the stomach of a third and build the body she would have after surgery. Frankly, I've been playing Mrs. Potato Head, or Dr Frankenstein, like crazy lately. There was a lightening storm last week and I kept looking around waiting for Igor to show up! While part of me wishes the next two weeks could fly by, another part of me is actually enjoying the entire process and wanting to 'live in the moment'.
So here's a question: The USA has a very high obesity rate, but has anybody ever noticed that the 'normal' size clothes take up 2/3 of the space while the plus size gets shoved into a dark, dank corner? I want to shop in the normal section and not feel like I should be saying "Oh, I'm looking for somebody else, not for me *cue uncomfortable laugh*." Not only that, but I can't WAIT to be able to easily find clothes that are not button down, breast pocketed, striped shirts. Or frumpy. Or only in dark colors. Or with crazy grandma's floral print curtains pattern. I want to wear bright colors, with shirts that may be *gasp!* made of a thin silky material that clings to my body and doesn't show a muffin top. I want some knee high boots and some skinny jeans. I want to wear sundresses and tank tops without my arms looking bad. And dear god I want a pair of leather pants to go clubbing in! I miss dancing at clubs...
One thing I wonder is if losing weight will make me look older. Now, don't get me wrong, I fully appreciate not looking my age. Not only does my mom's family always tend to age well, but with my round and chubby face I get told I look like I could be in college. I turn 30 in six months. Has anybody else run into this where they either looked younger or looked older after the surgery? While I don't want to suddenly look older than my years, it might be nice to not get carded going into rated R movies. Or have bartenders look at my license like it's a fake. On the flip side I rake it in at the county fairs where they guess your age, especially if I don't wear makeup and put my hair in a ponytail. *amused*
Okay, babbling over and now it's off to finish laundry. I keep wishing that I will wake up someday and have had a brownie (the mythological creature who did housework and other chores in exchange for milk and bread) move in and start doing the chores for me! Dishes and laundry are such a pain.
Toodles, and I hope everybody has a great weekend!
-Lyra
Once again I was battling the Evil Denizens Of Cake and kicking some fabulous creativity butt when one of my coworkers come into The Batcave (a very, very small windowless room that the baking and decorating magic happens in. While the Receiving team may say that THEY have The Batcave and we're The Fortress of Solitude, they're wrong. So ha!) So there I was in The Batcave when a coworker of mine decides to chill out and talk to me. I love to talk and so normally I'm up for a good conversation except this guy is so socially inept and awkward that all the girls in the department cringe. Because he and I are the only people in the department currently not married or dating I think he thinks we have this 'bond of whatever' between us. Kinda like the two amigos against the big, bad world in our search for love and marriage. Except...no. While I would like to be in a relationship, right now I'm crazy busy and I also don't hang my self-worth on whether or not I have a man. Plus, he's really, really socially inept. Anyway, he starts drilling me on why I'm going to be out of work for 2 weeks, that he heard I was having surgery and what was it, etc. Since I have to work with him, and am more of a "Rudeness As A Last Defense" sort of girl, I tried to politely change the subject. Nope, the guy was like a friggin' blood hound. By this time a couple other coworkers had come back to The Batcave and were listening in. Which irritated me to no end. Hello, rude much?!
Well, the week before I had perfected my reply to people like him and so decided to see if it would work a second time. What I ended up doing was first I said that I was getting wings so I could flit around bringing cake to everyone. Instead of taking it as "Def-Con 1 Mind Your Own Bloody Business Or There Will Be Consequences" he asked me again. So what I did was lean forward and say, "It's actually really upsetting ((dramatic pause)). You see I woke up the other night with this spider-alien thing stuck to my face with a tube down my throat ((fake voice tremble)). They have to do surgery in order to rip out the alien love spore before I do my best Sigourney Weaver impersonation from Aliens 3." Yep, it worked again! When in doubt pull out amazing silliness and people tend to edge away from you and leave you alone. Or laugh. Either way they go away and stop asking intrusive questions. Niiiiiice!
Only 14 more days until surgery! Man, I've got so much to do until then! I have to bake a huuuuge vegan wedding cake (pain in the butt), go to my last class/doctor's appointment, start my liquid diet, save the world, clean my house, save the world, work through a weekend as the only decorator (scary!), catch the cat, and then drive 3.5 hours to my parent's house and then 1.5 hours to the hospital that I'm having surgery at. Shew! I'd be tired if I wasn't dancing about in excitement! I feel like I should be singing and dancing to some bangin' music! If my life had a theme song right now, it would be "Can't Touch This" by Hammer. Oh yeah, and bustin' out some bad 80's moves! *giggles*
I've been slowly switching over to liquid diet stuff so that my body wont flip out on the 18th (the start of the official diet). At least I gave up my espresso shots awhile ago. My coworkers told me that I'm not allowed to have espresso, as I'm hyper and too happy even when I'm NOT on it! Spoil sports.... *pout*
Over the last week or so I've immersed myself into TedTalks, a yearly convention that is the brain and spirit trust that shows both the absolute best and worst of humanity. It combines science, art, music, humor, and every other aspect that makes us human. It's been inspiring on so many levels, and it has also caused me to really think.
One of the talks was on shame and vulnerability, why we feel them, and how those feelings (and how we deal with them) are important to our lives. I know that for myself I dealt with those emotions by reaching for the cookie box or eating way too much food. I think a lot of people who know me think that I'm an open person because I like to laugh and joke around. Yet I definitely have some very tall, very large boundaries as I am, at heart, a rather private person. This journey has really been a struggle for me because it makes me uncomfortable to be vulnerable in front of others. To go to the doctor and say, "I need this surgery. That I cannot lose weight on my own and will only continue to gain." To go to my best friends with confidence (all the while feeling shame) and tell them that I am getting this surgery. To realize that shame was illogical, but to feel it anyway. Two of my closest friends sat down with me to talk about why I decided to do this. I could see that my normal flippant responses wouldn't work, and that they were important enough to me to try and be as open as possible. God, it was hard, though. So very, very hard. I think I would rather run through the streets naked rather than open up emotionally like that. The results, though, were that they understood and now are really supportive.
My surgery of April 25th is quickly approaching, and I realize how much I really want things to change. I want to stand at my 30th birthday in November and look back and realize that not only am I healthier and have started a more active life...but I also want to be a more emotionally open person. Kinder, more compassionate, and more honest with myself and others. I'm not really sure how to do that but I guess that's part of the journey.
Either way, it's gonna be a hell of a ride.
Wow. So much has happened in the last few days. I got my surgery date finalized, apparently it was only a projected date that had to be approved by the OR. Thank god I didn't know that or I would have fretted endlessly about it! I also got my final pre-op blood work done although apparently one of the tests they needed to do was a pregnancy test. Well, the doc didn't code WHICH pregnancy test as apparently there is one that says if you're pregnant, and the other tells them how far along you are. So the conversation went something like this:
Labcorp Tech (LT): So do you know what pregnancy test they want?
Me: Huh?
LT: explains the two tests. Your doctor didn't specify.
Me: Well, it's for pre-op so they just want to see if I'm pregnant or not. I'm not, by the way.
LT: We need to double check. He might want the other one.
Me: Um...okay. Except the reason he wrote down for me to get these tests was because it's pre-op. If I'm pregnant (and I'm not) then no surgery. Thus meaning that the other test doesn't matter.
LT: I'm going to call the doctor and verify. It may be awhile as it's after 5pm.
Me: bangs head on wall.
Eh, she was just doing her job, but sheesh. Luckily Dr W called back quickly and I was in and out and thus made it to sushi on time.
I feel kinda odd right now, but not in a bad way. I feel like I'm very internally focused. It's strange because I've been so excited these last few months and now that the approval is in and all I have left is my last class/pre-op doctor's check on the 17th I feel very 'me' focused right now. My friends keep wanting to talk about it and how excited I must feel, and I am really excited, but I don't really want to talk about it. Perhaps it's nerves. I've been finding that while I'm emotionally fine, my brain is buzzing along like crazy. My friends have always teased me that I have the attention span of a magpie (I see something pretty or interesting and I'm off in another direction). I'm not flighty (heh, no pun intended) but I do enjoy learning lots of different subjects and tend to dabble in a lot of unconnected, random bouts of learning. It's kinda why I'm a National Geographic geek.
Speaking of NatGeo geeks, I've recently discovered TedTalks. For those of you who don't know they are a series of conferences that are held each year on a vast number of topics. Anything from the sciences, to art, history, etc but each presentation can only be a very strict 18 minutes. Well, except for Jane Goodall's presentation, but she's Jane Goodall, nobody is gonna boot her from the stage. The top voted person of the talks gets money to put towards their research or their dream that is going to change the world. Cool, huh? How did I not know about this? It's perfect for someone like me who loves hearing condensed talks about a myriad number of subjects. Thank you Netflix for adding a zillion of them to your instant play. My brain is thanking you! I've already watched about 30 of them. Very frosty, very neat!
April is such a crazy month for me. My job as a decorator gets hectic at Easter, then I have to get around to finishing my taxes, get to my class on the 17th, start liquid diet on the 18th, then work a crazy schedule until the 24th before I get my 2 weeks off for surgery.
Somebody at work asked me what my surgery was. I decided to have some fun, so I told him I was getting my own pair of sparkly butterfly wings. I said that because the room we work in is so small we were looking at lofting work stations to fit more decorators and we decided it would be best if I could hover and decorate on the lofted station. Then I told him that I had a traumatic experience where I woke up to this alien thing on my face and down my throat and that I had been implanted with an alien love spore and they had to get it out of me before I did my best Sigourney Weaver impersonation from Aliens 3. That got a lot of laughs and a "Lyra, you're nuts!" from people. While I don't have a problem telling people what I'm having done I was running a little experiment on how people would react if I answered that question with a ridiculous answer. Basically they were amused and dropped the subject. They probably think I have some horrible female related problem or something. It might be a good tactic to use on people who are being really pushy about the surgery. You just have to out ridiculous somebody until they walk away! Or edge away and call the looney tunes brigade....
Wow, I've had a doozie of a week, ya'll! So, granted the 'stranger' was my boss, but I'm never taking juice unless there is an ingredient label with it.
Picture this: The plucky (and devastatingly beautiful) protagonist Lyra goes in to work to do battle against the Hoard Of Rampaging Customers Needing Cake Right. This. Minute when her boss offers her some pineapple juice. Plucky and Sassy Lyra loves pineapple juice so drinks a good 8 oz of it. Everything seems to be going well until her stomach starts cramping up and hives start breaking out in her mouth and on her skin. (Okay, enough of the third person). I went to find the juice container and discovered that there was apple juice listed as an ingredient. Did I mention that I'm highly allergic to apples? Luckily I always carry emergency allergy meds with me but it still about kicked my tail!
The moral of the story: Never take juice from strangers. Or people you know. Although I did joke with my boss that if she was trying to kill me so she could hire a younger, prettier cake decorator that I was on to her and that it wasn't going to work!
Maybe I should hire some hot, European bodyguards while at work...I could declare it as a business expense on my taxes....*wicked smile*
I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man.
~Zhuangzi
I've always had crazy dreams full of intricate plot, color, surround sound, and sci-fi material but last night was a doozie. Let me explain, I almost always know when I'm dreaming. You see, when I was a little kid I had really, really, really intense dreams (I still do but as an adult they don't bother me) and one day I decided that I was a 'big girl' and didn't need to cry for my mom or dad. So after I would wake up from such techno-color dreams I would mentally envision myself on a white horse (yeah, I was horse crazy) galloping through a meadow with kitties and puppies and whatnot (so trite!). I would slow my breathing and forcibly calm myself down (breathing helps everything, I swear!). I only learned as an adult when I was being taught meditation that I had been doing a version of that all those years. Kinda neat, huh? Anyway, I remember my dreams almost daily so it became an automatic defense until one day I was in the dream and realized that I was dreaming and was able to calm myself down while still asleep. That means that even 'scary' dreams are pretty hilarious when you know that they're not true. Typically I only have the traditional 'nightmares' when I'm either stressed or sick as I think it sort of short-circuits my ability to influence that aspect of my mind.
So last night I'm minding my own business all snuggled into my comfy bed and I kept waking up in a full on clammy sweat. It was like I had just run a full marathon at Olympic breaking speeds. Yuck! I don't really remember what I was dreaming (which is odd for me) but I remember a feeling of being confined and powerless. There may also have been a panda bear. (Yeah, it doesn't take a degree to understand that first part!). I think being powerless is my greatest fear so it's not surprising that it would cause my sleeping brain to freak out like that.
Dearest sub-brain, I realize that you're obviously nervous about my upcoming future but it'll be okay. Seriously. So, take a chill pill, relax, and let the poor human have some nice, uninterrupted sleep tonight! Otherwise I might go batsh@$t crazy at work and start throwing cakes at customers like I was a monkey at the zoo.
Well, except they don't throw cake.
Things I plan to do after surgery:
1) Jet skiing in an actual bathing suit
2) Go to an amusement park and not fear being too fat for the rides
3) SHOPPING
4) Buy knee high boots (the ones without the 'expansion panel')
5) Restart taking martial arts and ballroom dancing. I miss them!
6) Get the tattoo I've been wanting for my 30th birthday- but have it also mean victory over being fat
7) White Water rafting and ziplining
8) Go on dates, Meet men. Have a real relationship. Have Sex. All. Night. Long.
9) Not be scared to flirt with someone because 'how could they be interested in someone like me'
10) Take a glass blowing class. Standing next to the furnace sucks when you come equipped with your own plushy, non-removable insulation!
11)...well, 11 is the hardest one. I've realized while going through this process some uncomfortable home truths about myself. That my attitude has kept me from really connecting with people who haven't known me for years. It was hard telling my friends why I wanted to do this. To open myself up to them in that way. It made me realize that I've used humor to keep my distance from people. To distract them from my weight and my insecurities. Don't get me wrong, I love making people laugh. I like the fact that I can make someone smile and perhaps brighten their day. I've been called quirky, funny, witty, and individual. I'm the one making the crazy puns, singing even though my voice is horrible, dancing just because I can and laughing at the world around me. I adore life and all its myriad craziness. I love causing people to rise above the humdrum of everyday life and to smile when I ask, "Have they done their five minutes of cardiovascular swashbuckling today?" or "What is their philosophical standpoint on foam in their latte?" Why be sad when you can smile? Except somehow the philosophy changed and morphed into something less wholesome. It became my defense and barrier because who looks deeper into someone who is laughing and smiling? Who notices the fat when someone is funny? One of my oldest friends put it best when he said, "You've always laughed, smiled, and dared the world...but there was always this undercurrent of sadness that you rarely let anybody touch."
There was this feeling of sadness that I buried so deep inside of myself that I rarely acknowledged it. I wasn't (and am not) depressed or miserable, but sometimes I would feel wistful. Is this how my life would be, slowly slipping by? I had friends, but many of the things I wanted to do were denied to me. Where was the life of love, family, and adventure that I felt sure would be mine when I was in high school or even college? Would I have to let pieces of myself die as I slowly became resigned that this is all there was? Would I let my fear of failure rule over my entire life? One of my biggest fears was always that I would become one of those people whose spark has been beaten down by life. I do not want to become one of the faceless ones who have given up all hope. Life is so beautiful, and I dreaded becoming bitter because I felt trapped.
Yet it is hard to open yourself up to the world. Even with our friends, because they have the power to hurt us the most. Our culture eats the weak and it is rare when personal pain is able to touch the hearts of others and bring help instead of humiliation; Understanding and hope, instead of sneering and cruelty. Even with my closest friends sometimes it's easier to make a quip instead of talking about emotions. I also think I learned early that if society would not value me for my looks (and would often be actively cruel about them) then I would be valued for my personality and my mind. That I would not be ignored as insignificant and shoved into a corner. That my brain was not somehow worthless because my body was not a size 6. I would not be ignored! And I'm not. I would not change my quirkiness, but I would like to be someone who can be more open to other people. I would like to know the woman who can be both funny and thoughtful. I would like to know what it feels like to not feel confined by a prison made of flesh. To not feel like I have to smile, smile smile. To actually believe, to the very depths of myself, that I am beautiful and worthy of a life of love and adventure. To be physically able to live that life. To actually know that life is not over, that it's just begun, and that there is an entire world waiting for me.
The hope for a better future is a powerful thing. It's gonna be hard, but that's okay. I have a lot of work to do on the inside as well. I am thankful ever day that I heard of this surgery, that I qualify, and that I'm schedule to have it April 25.
~Lyra
ps- Dear Site Designers: Once again I had to rewrite my entire post (I am seriously pissed at myself about that) because I clicked Add Entry (I tend to write the title of the post last and the button is right there) and my entire post was deleted. Hitting backpage did nada to retrieve my entry and I think my scream hit the stratosphere. Is there any way that ya'll can add in a line of code that allows you to retrieve your unpublished post (instead of just deleting it) if Add Entry is accidentally hit?
Thanks!
HA! I have vanquished my evil foe, Ye Olde Insurance Company and it quivers under the might of my Sword of Righteousness! We have parleyed and it has given over approval for my surgery! Huzzah, I tell you! Huzzah and Woot!
That's right, boys and girls, Lyra is going under the knife on April 25! Ladies and Gents, there will be a new Sheriff in town! My stomach, who will soon be called "The Sheriff" is gonna be a spur-and-chaps wearin', six shooter tottin', topped with a ten-gallon cowboy hat fighter of fat! Together we shall eradicate my engorged lipid cells to the far reaches of the planet, never to be seen or heard from again!
And now, I am off to watch some Monty Python: The Search for the Holy Grail! Or perhaps a giant, mutant alligator going crazy and attacking townspeople movie!
Thank you to all and to all a kick-ass night!
I don't know why I'm freaking out right now. Maybe because it feels that for the past two months I've been living and breathing VSG surgery and right now I'm in the Insurance Limbo From Hell. Until I hear back from them there is nothing I can do. I really do not like not being in control of my fate. The longer the limbo stretches the crazier the ideas are that pop into my head. On top of work shenanigans (we're super busy) and relationship stress my mind is blowing everything out of proportion. I know that this is what's happening, but still. I've been so busy lately that I feel like I haven't had any time for a healthy outlet that's not work, VSG related, or sleeping! Obviously I have enough problems without having my imagination working overtime!
Tonight I was talking to my mom and she said that my dad (who had VSG about 1.5 months ago) is now a terrible cook. He was cooking her dinner but she asked him to stop because it was (in some cases) inedible. Cooking has always been a big part of my family (and obviously a big part of the problem!) and my dad and I LOVE to cook. I adore combining different flavors and just feeding people. I get great enjoyment out of it. This is why I went to culinary school. I have a career based on my ability to bake! So now I'm freaking out that somehow after surgery I will lose my ability to cook/bake. That not only will a huge chunk of my stomach be cut out, but also my culinary ability. I mean, what happens if instead I gain the ability to make anything explode? Next thing you know I'm in the CIA and working in some cesspit and using vanilla extract to blow stuff up only to later be snuffed because I know too much. Okay, so that probably wont happen, but you get the point! It's so stupid to be so worked up over this and to invite trouble before I even have surgery!!
Today at work somebody told me that "I'm the spoon that stirs the pot" and that work is so much more interesting and fun when I'm there and that I put other people in a good mood. It made me feel warm and fuzzy...but sad, too. At my last job people were thoughtless and backstabbing and didn't really like me so it really surprises me when people tell me how glad they are that I work with them. I think the correct word is 'baffled'. I worked in that toxic job for so long that I think I started to subconsciously believe that I wasn't a good person. I was stressed all the time and hated life. I've been so happy at my new job but I'm thinking that I need to do something soon to stretch my wings. Teaching would do that but dang, that's a scary thought! Intriguing, but scary!
I think right now my emotions are going in every which way and I'm trying really hard for them not to impact upon my relationships. I just want this done and over so I can move on. I LIKE being cheerful and fun. I want to go rock climbing so badly I can taste it! I don't like feeling so discombobulated and out of sorts!!
Sheesh, I thought my emotions would be on a roller coaster AFTER the surgery, not before!!
I haven't written in a few days because I've been fighting off The Zombie Death Plague. Okay, I should probably back up and start from the beginning. Ten years ago I was bitten by a brown recluse spider and then got MRSA on top of that (it was a fun year) and about three years ago I started getting MRSA flare ups a few times a year. Cue horror movie music and once again I'm fighting off MRSA. Which, while problematic, can be taken care of with typical prescription drugs except that I'm allergic to eleven different drugs. Doctors always get this 'deer in headlights' look about them when they need to prescribe for me as it's somewhat of a crap-shoot if I'm going to get sick (or shuffle off my mortal coil) from a new drug. Or an old drug that my body can't really tolerate anymore. Nice, right?
So I've given this some thought and I think MRSA is a government conspiracy (not really) that is really either an Alien Love Spore Infection (aka 'Body Snatchers') or The Zombie Death Plague (aka 'Resident Evil') that is trying to take over our world. Who knows, maybe tomorrow I'll wake up with an insatiable need for Braaaiiiiiins, the desire to moan piteously, and a serious case of personal decomposition. Well, right now I'm up early and forcing myself to eat a large breakfast because you can't take one of the only anti-MRSA (Zombie Death Plague) drugs on a lonely bagel or banana filled stomach. It's the equivalent of a nuclear bomb going off in your body and all sort of bacteria and whatnot die. Even the 'good' bacteria. Needless to say the next few days will be fun.
Obviously it's been a busy few days and the entire thing started off after bug bites I got from hiking and picnicking became infected. I'm taking this as proof that trees are evil, and mother nature is out to get me. From now on the only wilderness I want to be experiencing is the shopping mall on a Saturday during a 50% off sale! So other than that debacle I've been dealing with insurance stuff. See, my insurance approval is waiting on my PCP to send proof that I've been heavy for the last few years. I've been waiting for two weeks. So basically I called up my PCP last night and we chatted and I said that I have a somewhat narrow window of opportunity in April to get this surgery and I need this paperwork now. He pinkie promised to get it done and sent in today or tomorrow, thank goodness. If he doesn't...well...my friends and family know that I have a....creative...sense of humor :ph34r: . And my PCP has known me for a long, long time. *wicked smile*
So fighting off Zombieism, battling insurance companies, and decorating cakes. And who said that life was boring?
PS- Seriously, if I hit the "Add Entry" button (which should read "If You Hit This Button All Your Work Will Be Erased You Need To Hit Publish Now You Idiot" ONE MORE TIME I might throw a tantrum worthy of a 'Toddlers and Tiaras' contestant!
I am Batman. Or rather, Batwoman. No, seriously, apparently I am some lady's hero today who called work all in a tizzy because her pie dough turned out wonky. Forgetting the salt does that. Perhaps one day I'll even look good in spandex and a cape.
Besides my future as a caped crusader I like to think I'm a rather self-aware lady, and I mean self aware beyond the existential belief of both my physical and mental existence upon this plane of reality. Yeah, it's a work in progress but I've given a lot of time (oh, say about five minutes) to understanding my brain and why it prefers to think in shades of purple and glitter (there may also be polka dots) rather than in a more logical and linear manner. Well, I think we can toss "Lyra's Self Awareness Merit Badge" into the trash can. I swear, where does my brain get some of it's thoughts from? Obviously I didn't train it up right and it needs a choke collar and some correctional training. So, here's the sitch...
I was at work today doing my very best to help raise the sugar level in America (I'm a cake decorator, or as I like to say, 'Cake Diva') when one of my coworkers who is a teacher on the side said that she recommended me to teach a class next semester. Now this is good in several ways the first being that teaching one class will help me figure out if this is what I would like to do full time, and the second being that I would make a lot more money teaching than what I'm currently doing. Also, I'm bored and feel the need to stretch my gossamer (and delicately ephemeral) wings in order to expand my repertoire within my profession. So, this is good and I'm confident enough that I think I would be good at the job. However, the first thing that popped into my head was, "Well, if I get the job and as it doesn't start until August, then I probably wont be fat then and so will kick butt." *Beats brain with a rubber duck* What the hell?! Since when is my brain trying to play for the rival team in putting me down? Mutiny! You would think that since my brain is trapped in it's current flesh-mobile that it would be a little bit more respectful of my..er...rubenesque physique. Also, my butt stomping boots work no matter what size I am. It just kinda made me sad that I had this automatic thought about my innate ability vs my size. We get enough of that from the public without having to put up with that inside my own head! Bad brain! No cookies for you!
Okay, one other thing. Why do people, when they see someone like me eating a salad, ask "So, are you trying to lose weight?" I don't go over to skinny people who are eating burgers and say, "So, I see that you're working on that ol' beer gut. Good job!". Today I was eating my lunch (salad) and one of my coworkers asked me what dressing I was using. When I replied "olive oil and lemon juice" he commented that it is great for the middle of the body. *stink eye* Seriously? My middle is not up for public debate. In fact, my middle is under the Witness Protection Program and it's name has been changed so feel free to pretend that it doesn't exist. My reply to him was that, "I don't know what you mean" with my best Clint Eastwood stare. Cue uncomfortable silence and then his quick shuffle towards the door. Yeah, that's right, feel embarrassment and social discomfort brought about by your own clumsy inability to talk about the weather. *rolls eyes*
Tomorrow we're going to the zoo and I'm all aflutter! I do enjoy seeing the penguins and it sounds like a blast!
Yesterday was a day that would have made a SAINT fall to the Dark Side and become an evil Sith Lord. He and Darth Vader would have been bffs, I'm sure. Work was hectic in that everybody needed their hands held and a customer argued over a shade of pink I used on their cakes. But, honestly, I kinda expect that at work so it doesn't really bother me anymore. No, what made the day 'of the suck' was when I reached into my pocket to pull out Wallie (named after Wall-E), my Pantech Pursuit side-open qwerty keyboard phone and his touchscreen wasn't working! Wallie was probably my favorite phone EVER but the only thing he could still do was allow me to type a number on the keyboard to call out. Which was heroic of him, but who knows anybody's number anymore? Seriously, when I call someone it goes like this, "Wallie, call (fill in the blank with a name)" and Wallie calls. I can't deal with not having a phone. Seriously. Also, texting is a fact of life. So instead of going home to change from my work clothes before going to get my hair done I tried (and failed) to find a AT&T store. *sigh*
So off I go to my amazing salon where everybody always looks cute and hip. I already feel like a slob because I'm Lady Plumptious in the Land Of Skinny Cute Clothed People but wearing my work clothes (ucky T-shirt and jeans) I felt even worse. Luckily I had a pair of cute retro-shoes in my car and so was able to take off my just adorable (sarcasm) non-slip shoes. Yet even shoes do not make up for a sad, sad outfit. So, what does a Cool Chick like myself do, you ask? Well like any, er, 'big boned' lady I decided to fake it. Yep, I walked in all swagger and sass and thought to myself "Self, you are wearing awesome shoes. More awesome than THEIR shoes. See my delectable shoe-ware and know envy". Petty, yes, and I really do believe that people are more than their clothes and I really am a self-confident Goddess of Womanhood....but. Yeah, but. I kinda wanted to pretend to be a jedi and say "You see not my horrible work clothes, you see not my horrible work clothes. Oh, and you will give me a free mini highlight....". Ahh, to only have superpowers.
Anyway, the haircut is super hot and off I toddle to find my nearest AT&T store only to find out that my 'insurance' plan that I pay for can't give me a Wallie 2. That they don't even MAKE his type of phone anymore (poor Wallie, and he wasn't even 2 years old yet!) and they say that they'll give me 'X' instead. Well, 'X' is a POS and I'm not paying $50 for it. So low and behold I find myself a lovely iPhone 3 and now have Fyfer (from Fifer of "Watership Down") who rocks hardcore! I have joined the Legion Of Those Who Own Smart Phones And In Particular iPhones". So when do I get my t-shirt and secret decoder ring? They did give me poor Wallie's body in a box so I'm debating on burying him outside under a beautiful, pollen spludging Dogwood Tree. Poor Wallie.
Luckily my bffs called me to go out to eat that night (still in my ucky work clothes but NOW sporting professionally styled hair to go with my cute retro shoes) and we had chicken wings. Well, during the course of dinner I mentioned how I was watching a Dinosaur Documentary and that it said birds were the decedents of dinosaurs. So if that is true, and a chicken is a bird, does that mean that a T-Rex tastes like chicken? And that theoretically I just ate a T-Rex? Mmmm, T-Rex chicken is GOOD! So if you are what you eat, and I just ate a T-Rex does that mean I'm a meat-hungry Queen of Humanity? I mean, T-Rex was considered the king of dinosaurs....*grin*
Although I think my nobility should at least demand several hot cabana boys waiving pond fronds and rubbing my poor, tired feet. You see, cool retro shoes look great but walking for hours in them hurts!
Ah, what a day!
Ahhh, exercise! Those wacky movements that cause our muscles to ache and for a voice deep down to scream "Take that!" to the world at large who says that big people are just lazy. So I work in what is (not) affectionately known as "The Batcave" or "The Fortress of Solitude". Basically it's a very, very small windowless room next to a giant convection oven that is sweltering even in the depths of winter. So while I am far, far away from being nature girl (I hate bugs, being dirty, trees, and those bushes that always cling to your legs and are currently spludging pollen like it's an Olympic sport) a friend and I decided to picnic and hike at Umstead State Park. So off we hike (amble) on a nice 2 mile trail. Yet a good gossip later we found ourselves having taken a switchback and somehow jumped trails to the 7 MILE LONG ONE! Now this Plumptious Lady is good for about 3-4 mile up and down trail hiking but not for any more than that! So we continued walking and stumbled across this dude jogging. We asked him but he had no clue how to help us, which was okay because he was shirtless and hot and I enjoyed the eye candy. We then wandered across this couple who were dressed as "serious hikers" and while she tried to help us he was a total jerk and kept on walking. Also, I would like to take this time for an aside comment, "Hey, fella, karma's a b**ch and I hope you enjoyed your hike while knowing that two bodacious babes were more lost than Hansel and Gretel. May a good Samaritan be scarce when you need one".
All we wanted to know was where an intersecting trail was to take us the fastest route back to the cars so my friend could get to work on time. So, basically when I decided that it was going to have to be cannibalism and my friend would have to take one for the team we found a superhero dressed in black workout spandex! (She also goes by 'Carmen' in her day-to-day life) This wonderful lady walked us to her car and gave us a lift back to our cars. Thanks, Superhero Carmen! My friend will never know how close she came to being lunch meat...
Well, now I'm back home with my legs wrapped and elevated (stupid surgery scars) and my feet singin' the blues. Yet deep, deep inside is this skinny person standing on top of a rock (like in that credit card commercial) with her hands up Richard Nixon-style screaming, "Ha! I did it, I kicked hiking left butt cheek! Mwahaha! The world is my oyster and all I need is a lemon slice!" I couldn't have done this multi-mile hike a few months ago and it's nice to see that the jogging and weight lifting has paid off even pre-surgery!
I think, however, that next time I want to experience some of the 'great outdoors' I'll just go walk around one of those open air malls. They have restaurants as I really don't think that my friends would taste good without either tabasco or A1. And who carries condiments on a day-hike....? *grin*
(I had to re-type this from memory. Apparently the "Add Entry" button doesn't add the entry to your blog, but deletes what you have written and opens a new blank entry page. Awesome. Not.)
So I had a thought today about WLS when I was at work. I realized that while I am excited about new clothes, better health, and a more active life there is one thing that would be almost (TMI) orgasmically good. It would be fantastic to come home from work and NOT have my feet, ankles, knees and legs positively ache and swell up. I work on my feet for 8 hours every day as a cake decorator. Sometimes after sitting and then getting back up my feet are so swollen they look like little Italian sausages (the Hot and Spicy kind, of course!) and I hobble around like a 100 year old woman! I actually daydreamed today (while cloud watching! I saw a crab, and Spiro the dragon!) about how having 120 less pounds bearing down on my poor footsies will feel! How maybe my hips and shoulders wont hurt. About how I will be able to enjoy my body, rather than be exhausted by it.
Still no word about the insurance, but I've got a ton of extracurricular activity for the next five days to help take my mind off of everything.
When I went to my last pre-insurance-approval class (is- Support group) I was told to wait until Tuesday and then call to see if the doctors had all gotten my paperwork to Dr. W. So, dutifully I call and was told that everything was kosher and that it had gone to the insurance lady, Mary, last Friday. So...sitting here, cruising the 'web, eating some pasta, watching about dinosaurs and just chilling. NOT. Okay, so the first few things were true, but I am not calm and collected! I'm about to have absolutely NO nails left. I am, in fact, biting my nails so badly that it looks like I have a nervous tick and the nice men in the white jackets are gonna take me to a padded room. Also, as a side note, I was totally expecting something different from the Support group. I had this weird image that we would all be sitting in a circle on rainbow poofy chairs talking about our feelings, our emotional eating problems, and our mothers. Something very touchy-feely. Not that there is anything wrong with touchy-feelyness, per say, but I would rather remove my own stomach with a dull, plastic spork then talk about such things in front of strangers. Well the rainbow poofy chairs were long tables, metal folding chairs, and a whiteboard. And the only touchy feeling talk going on was about vitamins, minerals and how best not to starve ourselves of vital nutrients.
So, I have all these questions whirling through my head. What if the insurance blip I had to take care of a few weeks ago didn't go all the way through the bureaucratic nine levels of hell to be attached to my file? What if the doctor's office didn't properly file my new insurance information in my folder? What if BCBS's computers suddenly become sentient and we all start living some variation of "The Terminator"? Somehow I don't think Dr W would do surgery in some broken down building while hoping to escape from a rabid AI. Okay, so maybe that last one is a touch out there...
I know that after the surgery I will be getting rid of clothes like crazy. I thought I was ready to get rid of my favorite shirt that I have had for years. I had even made plans to get said shirt in smaller incarnations. Whenever I wore this shirt I got sooo many compliments and it was the supreme of cool. Yet my Led Zepplin shirt was taken from me before it's time. Not because I have lost so much weight that it was now a tent and merrily off I went to buy another. No. It was insidiously taken from me by my dryer. I pulled it out and somehow small holes had ripped through the shirt. It had gone straight from "I can wear this out in public" through "I can wear this to the gym" to "only in my house. Alone. With the blinds closed." *sigh* Poor Led Zepplin shirt.
Last year my mom and I went on this amazing vacation that had to do with her work. It was fantastic and we've been planning on doing it again next year (it's only held every other year). We were talking about it tonight and how exciting it's going to be. I love hanging out with my mom! One of the things I'm really excited about is how much thinner I'll be because of the surgery. It'll definitely make riding on a plane easier! I am just about the maximum size a person can be and still fit in the waaaay too narrow seat. Yet I do fit with a little room to spare so it made me feel bad when I got on one of my connecting flights and the guy sitting next to me had the "oh hell no that fat chick isn't going to sit next to me" look on his face. He didn't even have the courtesy to at least pretend not to be looking around for another seat. In fact he about bowled me over in his hurry to get away from me. Bastard. Sometimes I wonder how people can be so insensitive. I'm no saint, but I genuinely do not want to hurt people's feelings. It makes me wonder if people who have no care for others were raised in a barn by a flock of feral chickens.
Anyway, that is neither here nor there. So my mom and I were talking about this fab vacation we're planning and I can't wait to shop for clothes! Granted, it's 10 months and 3 weeks away (but whose counting?) but I'm daydreaming about wearing a sexy little dress that clings in all the right places. Of a classy little evening bag whose strap stays on my shoulder and some knockout heels that scream "diva on the prowl!".
I've already changed so much in the last year. Internally changed, I mean. In fact, last summer was the first summer in almost 10 years that I wore shorts. Crazy, right? Yet I've always been so self-conscious. Not because I'm...er...plumptious, but because I have a lot of scarring on my legs from a run in with a brown recluse spider plus mrsa and two surgeries. I finally decided that my scars show that I still have legs thank god and that I've led an interesting life so screw the stares from people. To my surprise I found that most people just don't care or don't pay attention. It was a huge confidence builder and for those who were rude enough to point my scars out I came up with some real humdinger responses. My favorites included being attacked by rabid fire ants, alien abduction, surgery to make me taller, and a horrific circus accident involving a clown, tiger, and a wheelbarrow. *smirk*.
Man, I can't wait to go shopping for fashionable clothing!
Yesterday was my support group class...the last class before it goes to insurance for approval. It was interesting and overwhelming and scary. There are so many vitamins and minerals and nutrients you have to remember to take, and I think I'm going to try and get some free samples of protein drinks. Has anybody tried the 'Nectar' brand before? They're running a special right now on samples. It really just hit me that the journey to surgery is almost over. I need to sit down and write down what I need to take everyday so that I can wrap my mind around it.
Yesterday was a hard day because I got up at 4am and was at work until 1pm. Then I drove the 3 hours to my meeting, had dinner with my absolutely WONDERFUL mother, went to the meeting, and then I drove 3 hours BACK home. By the time I got home at midnight I was actually shaking in my seat and couldn't walk straight because I was so exhausted. I can't take the energy drinks because I had a little espresso addiction and it about killed my stomach. Today has been hard...but only two more days of work until a day off! Yah!
My mother is absolutely wonderful. She has been with me every step of the way and it has been awesome. I never think of my mom as getting old, half the time I forget that I'm about to turn 30 this year. Yet at dinner last night I saw my mom's beautiful hands and how rheumatoid arthritis is causing them to bend and warp. It makes me so sad and I wish I could spend more time with her. Luckily I'm recuperating at my parent's house so that's 2 weeks of togetherness. I'm sure by the end of it both of us will be glad for some separation!
So...yeah, overwhelmed. I feel like I have this big ball of emotion that sits behind my breastbone. It wasn't there a couple of weeks ago, but as I get closer and closer to game time, it gets bigger. I'm not thinking about backing out, nor am I unhappy. I think it's this weird conglomeration of nerves, fear, excitement, worry, happiness, with a big dose of "dear god!". Mountain meet molehill. *rolls eyes*.
Everything will be fine but the waiting is driving me nuts!
Holy batcrap, Batman! Last night I went to this awards dinner for a friend and the food and wine kept coming...and coming...and coming... I admit it, I ate the hell out of that food. If the food was an enemy army, I not only defeated it, but laughed in the face of it's useless whimpers for mercy. It was amazingly delicious, but at the end of it I was...unimpressed? That's not quite the word that I'm thinking of, but by the end of the meal I got hit with a wave of "this is so not worth it". I'll admit...ever since I've decided to do this surgery I've kinda had an "enjoy it now, within reason, Mr Stomach (I have no idea why my stomach is a dude, since I'm a woman, but eh) 'cause you are gonna be a trim, slim, mushy eating machine soon." Of course, this doesn't give me carte blanche to gorge myself into insensibility...but I did find myself pleased that I'm starting to separate food and emotions. Yeah, it was good (read: scrumptious) but on the scale of "Delcious food vs Lyra's Awesome Life Waiting To Happen" it falls short. Very short. It also isn't as emotionally fulfilling as it used to be. Perhaps it's because I'm taking this step forward to change my life that I've started feeling this way. I still enjoy great food (see pig-like actions above) but it's now more about the taste than "I feel so sad/depressed/angry/bored lets eat a cheeto" that I was (not) rocking before.
So, porky pig-like actions are a thumbs down, but who would have thought an awards banquet would bring about some self-realization? Now I need to go walk a couple of miles and do some (a lot of) "I was a bad, bad Lyra" pilates.
*sigh*. My last class before getting my surgical date is next week and I was hoping to have the surgery at the end of March. That way I could have the two weeks off and go back to work for Easter weekend (I'm a cake decorator). I just found out that the first week of April is blacked out for time off. Which means that unless my surgery is 4/9 I wont be able to take 2 weeks off until May because it would interfere with the other decorator's vacation. Damn it. February has flown by and I know March will too....but I'm just so bummed. I just want to have the surgery and get this done. I know that in a few months everything will have worked out...but right now I'm just a little sad. It doesn't help that I've been working crazy long hours dealing with some real wackos lately and am very hormonal right now. Why do people feel the need to treat customer service like crap? I get treated like I'm an idiot when I have as much, if not more, education than many of my customers do. What is wrong with people?
So I recently switched insurance companies to one that will approve my surgery...as long as I have a paper proving that I had another insurance UP TO the day that my new insurance starts. Basically that little sheet of paper means that there is no pre-existing clause to my new insurance and PRESTO approval for the VSG. I've had the insurance guys swear on all they hold dear that this is so. No problem, right? WRONG. My 'old' insurance is about to feel what my boot up it's derriere feels like. I cancelled my old insurance and dated it the day before my new insurance picked up. Well, three weeks later their system FINALLY updated and they said they would send me my Proof Of Insurance paper....dated at the end of this month. I don't need the cancellation to be at at the end of this month, I need it to say at the end of LAST month because I've gone to doctors this month and said that my insurance was Insurance B. If I had 2 insurance coverages for the last month that means I have to go back to all these doctors and submit paperwork showing that I had primary AND secondary insurance for them to bill. So sayeth the law. Now, I'm tickled all shades of pink that I finally have this magical document, but I am less than thrilled that I will have to traipse across the city to different doctors to submit another insurance for them to bill that I dont even have anymore. Especially as my 'old' insurance was crap and basically laughed in the face of medical claims and would just punt the claims to my new insurance.
Seriously, WHY can't we go back to the way that it used to be and just pay the doctors in chickens? How about a goat? I'm a cake decorator and I'll trade wedding, holiday, anniverary, birthday, and divorce cakes for surgery! Pretty please?
