As always, I have made my neighbors wonder how I ever got out of the mental institute. At least this time, I didn't flash some poor, unexpecting man my boobs...though he really did seem to enjoy that. No, today I did that thing that we all do sometimes when we are working out. I forgot I was in public. Not only was I in public, it was 7am and there were TONS of people out walking (their dogs or themselves).
Before I went on my 2mile walk (yes, two miles...thank you...thank you...thank you...you can hold your applause now LOL) I decided to add some old CDs that I had found to my phone so that I would have something different to listen to as I walked. Great idea right? This would help motivate me, get me moving a little faster, and help keep me walking more than I have been. Well, that's all true. EXCEPT one thing....I forgot how much I enjoyed some of these tunes. So, not only was I singing along as I walked (I tried to stop when I saw someone coming), I was also doing that upper body dance thing with my arms....you know the one right? It's when you start moving your arms and bobbing up and down?! But, that wasn't the worst part, the worst was when I decided to get my legs involved. Apparently, I didn't think putting one foot in front of the other was good enough. Nope, I thought it would be neat to do a little side step ever once and a while....as well as some some back and forth foot work. This wouldn't have been too bad except I got caught BIG time. Not just by the person in front in me walking their dog, but also by the man driving behind me. I have no idea how long either one was there. The BEST part of the whole thing was watching the man walking directly toward me get the look on his face as to say, "what is wrong with her" and ever so slowly cross the road for no other reason to get away from me. And yes, I made sure to say, "Hello" as I passed. I thought about stopping and petting the dog, but I didn't want to be sprayed with mace. LOL
After being caught twice in a matter of seconds, I decided that I should stop my dancing and focus on walking. That was all well and good until "Brown Eyed Girl" came on. Something took over and I was unable to control myself. The words came pouring out of my mouth and my arms and shoulders started going. That is until I noticed an older woman walking her dog and another man attempting to control his dog. It was barking and attempting to break away in an attempt to get to me...and it didn't appear that he wanted to give me lovings. Apparently dogs are not very fond of my singing ability. Damn, and I was planing on auditioning for the Voice next year....LOL.
Now that I am home, safe and sound. I have decided that going for my walk in the morning is not the best idea. I think I will leave the walking to the afternoon or evening when there are less people out there to scare. I mean come on, I've got to maintain some type of normalcy....or at least pretend to. Now excuse me as I go turn up Price and dance around the house like the Dancing Queen I (think) am.
I started walking again today. It's funny how taking only a month off can totally change your ability. I went from feeling like a marathon runner (without the running part) to feeling like child learning how to walk for the first time. Why is my heart beating so fast and why am I sweating enough to quench the thirst of a small 3rd world country? I don't remember it being this bad when I first started after my surgery. That could be becasue I knew I couldn't do much then and now I feel like I should be able to do more than I was doing when I stopped walking. One cool thing that I noticed was that my shorts didn't do the "lets hide in the crotch" thing they do when you're overweight and walking. You know what I mean. It's when the front of your shorts ride up and bunch up near your crotch. Then you try to pull them down with out looking too obvious but deep down you know everyone can see you doing it. Then you start to walk again and BAM there they are right back up to your crotch. Yeah, that thing....well, it happened a little but not enough for me to have to stop and pull them down. 100lbs ago I would have had to pull them down every few steps...hence the reason I never worked out in shorts until now.
Needless to say, I got in 1.25 miles. Much less than I wanted but much more than my back was telling me I could do. My back is still bad, but I know if I keep it up my back will get used to it. It's just getting through what I call the "pain hump" That's the time during and after your workout (for about 2 weeks) where you feel like you're back is broken and you can't move an inch, let alone a mile. It's the time where mind over matter kicks in and sometimes matter wins. But, if you're lucky, you will fight through it and take charge. If you do, not only will you feel better physically, but also emotionally. This point was proven when I came home and started cleaning. I've been looking at the house for days thinking about how it needed to be cleaned but I always found something more important to do...like watch T.V. However, today I felt so good after my walk that I didn't want to just sit and do nothing....so, I cleaned. Now, not only do I feel good about myself, I feel good about my house too. LOL
The past month has been really bad for me. I've been in severe pain with my back and have not been able to walk or do any water workouts. Then, to make it even worse, I've been cheating. I have been eating candy...good, yummy, chocolatey candy. At first I blamed it on my period, but unless my PMS and period are a month long thing now, that can't be the reason. Then, I really started to think about why I would be eating so badly. Then it hit me. I eat out of boredom. To make it worse, I graze all day long and not on good things. I graze on chocolate and nuts.
Now, prior to surgery I was not a huge chocolate fan. I could live with out it, even during those monthly visits that we woman get. I was always a straight candy type of girl. I liked the surgery sticky candy the best. Mary Janes, Laffy Taffy....that was my weakness. Not any more. Now I'm a chocolate girl. Even though it makes my acid reflux horrible, I have been on a huge chocolate kick and it finally stopped TODAY.
I had to take a really good look at what was going on and why I was eating the way I was. After breaking it all down and analyzing the data, I can see that I eat or graze out of boredom. I also found that I am bored a lot. You have to understand, I am a worker. I love to work and I'm good at my chosen field. However, due to my back, I haven't been working for the past year and a half. The past month, my pain has been so bad that I can't even do things around my house. Because of that, I watch a lot of T.V. and pace a lot. Both are a set up for grazing. Now, becasue I can't fix my back, and I can't work, I have to figure out how not to allow boredom to take over and lead me to the kitchen. The first thing I figured out was that I have to use my Fitnesspal.com account. I have to write down everything I eat. If I don't, I underestimate what I've had. Seeing what I've eaten and having it right there is also a good way to keep me accountable. So, today, I started using my account again. And, so far, no grazing.
Now, I know it's not going to be easy. I am going to have to be very aware of when and why I am eating. But, at least I haven't gained any weight and I figured it out before I returned completely back to my old ways. It's funny, I was doing so well and I am so happy with how I feel and look but for some reason I still find comfort in food even when I don't want to. Having the surgery was the easy part....maintaining and changing who we are and how we eat is the hard part. Lucky for me, I have all you here to keep me honest with myself. I think having this blog and having people read it who understand what I'm going through will help me make it through this hurdle and continue moving towards that 150lob goal I have. I am only 70lbs away....if I've lost 100 in five months, I can lose the rest as long as I keep myself honest and do what I know I have to.
So, today is the day I continue on my journey. I have moved over the hurdle and I will continue to follow the plan. I won't allow food to overtake my life again. I was so unhappy before surgery, and I never want to feel like that again.
I am going to sound very self centered and almost narcissistic but I have to say this. I have BEAUTIFUL hair. My whole life, my hair has been my pride and joy. I was overweight, but at least my hair was beautiful. Now, with all that said, when I had this surgery, my BIGGEST fear (again, I am going to be very self centered here) was loosing my hair or having it become thin. That would just devastate me. So, I made sure I took all my vitamins, got all my protein in and followed the program. And, things were fine. I even had someone with by-pass surgery tell me, "You know, you're hair will change...or even fall out." I laughed. There is NO way MY hair was doing any of that..........
Fast forward five months. I notice more hair falling out than normal. In the shower, I am getting more hair when I ring the water out of it. I look down at the drainage in the shower daily and am disgusted at the amount of my hair that I have to throw away. NOOOOOOOOOOO this can NOT be happening. I can NOT be loosing the one thing that gave me confidence my who life. The again, that would be my luck. I am not the person that gets everything she wants or even everything she works REALLY hard for. I am the type of person who saves for a trip and one month before the trip, something happens and BAM there goes the money. It's just my luck...or lack of luck.
So, here's my question to you all. Have you lost your hair? If so, when and how much? Did it come back? Did it change in texture? Give me answers please!! I am so not looking forward to my hair being more attached to the drain than it is to me. I know I don't ask it much, but PLEASE HELP A GIRL OUT???!!!!! Thanks in advace!
I find it interesting how different my body is in only four months....almost to the day. Now, I know I've lost A LOT of weight. I am smart enough to know that with the amount of weight I have lost I will see changes in my body. However, there are times I look at myself in the mirror, shower, get dressed, or just touch my arm that I think, "Who is this person, and why am I touching her body?"
Let me explain. Last night I was showering. As I was washing my body, I swear it felt like a different person was in the shower and I was in her head. I didn't feel like "ME"...well the really fat 330lb me. I then tried on clothes I bought before surgery that were WAY to tight on me. Both things are now big on me. The shirt is less big, but I remember when I tried them on and laughed at the fact they didn't fit. The thought that they would ever fit seemed so far fetched to me. Again, I knew I would loss weight....I just wasn't ready for the psychological changes that would have to come with the weight loss.
I still wear clothes that are baggy. When I do wear clothes that fit properly, I am so self conscience at first and it takes me hearing from many people that I look fine before I can actually leave the house. I have actually begun to get a little perturbed that my new favorite lounge around shirts are getting way to big for me. I've only had them for a month and a half and I thought they would at least fit until October. To be honest, I would be happy to have them for years and years due to how comfy they are.
Now with that all said, I love seeing my body change and shape into the person I always felt like under all the extra weight. I never thought I was depressed but now that I've lost weight, I can say that I wasn't as happy as I could have been. I am so much happier now. I love seeing men take a double take or have them smile and flirt. That hasn't happened in years. Now before people start going off about how I'm married and I shouldn't look for that....relax. First, I love my husband with all my heart. Second, everyone flirts and everyone likes to be admired. If you say you don't...you're full of crap. And trust me, if you read my blog from a few days I go, you will know that being full of crap can be very painful!!!!
The good thing is that even though the scale is moving at a snails pace these past five weeks....my body is still surprising me. I can't wait to see what it looks like around Christmas time. To be honest, I am REALLY looking forward to the day I see my parents out and about and they don't recognize me. This happens to my sister ALL THE TIME. For those of you who don't know, my sister had by-pass surgery around three or four years ago. There are sometimes I go to her house and am still in shock that the little tiny person I am talking to is her...hopefully one day I will get the same response. But for now, I am going to keep being surprised in the shower....maybe I should have said in the mirror...the other one sounds really, really bad.
Growing up, I always knew I was intelligent. I never "got" high school and I never understood why some women are so obsessed with other women and their choices. I also never "got" the whole obsession with actors. I know I will never meet one and if I do, he is not going to sweep me off my feet and marry me. Come on, how many actors are married to regular people? And if there are some, how many found the average woman walking down the street? However, I always knew I'd marry someone just like me. Someone who loves to get out and do things. Someone who loves nature. Someone who loves New York City as much as he loves a log cabin in the middle of nowhere.
I was wrong. I married my best friend, and I have no regrets However, he's the type of man I never thought I would be with. The kind of guy I used to stand up for high school even though I never quite got their obsession with D&D and computers. I always did understand the feeling of not fitting in or thinking a little or lot outside of the box. I watched "Sliders" and "Quantum Leap" but "Dr. Who" and "Star Trek" were never interesting to me. When I met my husband, I used to laugh at him when he would put on these shows, or when he would sit in front of computer for hours on end killing imaginary creatures in imaginary worlds. But, lately, I've realized that my husband didn't change me, he allowed me to find and appreciate my inner geek. And to be honest, I kind of like her.
She's smart. She get's sarcasm (in case you haven't noticed from my blogs). She's direct. She's a leader. She's a pretty darn cool chick if you ask me. But, there are still things I don't like. Old "Dr. Who" is boring to me (please don't yell at me for that), "Star Trek" isn't as bad, but I can always find something else to watch, and I still don't understand the whole, sit in front of the computer, killing others thing. Why would I do that when I can sit on here reading status updates from people I haven't seen in twenty years and probably have nothing in common with or "PIN" things that I will never do? I mean come on, at least my stuff COULD happen...one day...maybe....ok, NEVER. LOL.
So, for now, I am allowing my inner dork to show her head sometimes. I think we all have a little bit of this person inside of us. The person we tried to hide from others (especially in H.S). The person who sings and dances in the kitchen for no reason and makes up songs while chopping veggies...(in the "here comes the bride tune) "Here comes the knife....all in my hand...he's going to get you and help send you to tummy land" Yes, I do all of those things. I am a DORK. I am a GEEK. I am NERD.....but, I'm also all those other things I've been my whole life....now, I'm just more complete.
NOTE: I read this to my husband and his response was, "You left out the SCA" Now, for those who doubt I married a geek, you can go check out www.sca.org. The website will explain it much better than I can. No it's not like the move, "Role Models" or a Renfair However, my husband does leave me for weeks at a time to roll play and 'kill" other people. I am not involved....this is just one thing I never could "get" but hey, let my husband enjoy his inner geek....his is much more out in the open than mine.
I haven't been feeling very well for about two weeks. The pain has been on my left side, under my rib cage, almost center. The pain was also in my back around my kidney area. The pain would come in waves and cause me to curl up wishing for it to be over. Now, for the record, I am not a wimp. I don't cry over pain. But last night, I cried like a big fat sissy. The pain got to the point that I ended up in the ER.
Now, I should have known this wasn't going to be a good night when EVERYONE at the hospital I told about my sleeve responded with the question "was the by-pass or the lap-band." Even the doctor had no idea what I was talking about. Then, to make matters worse, the doctor never once touched my stomach. He shot me up with pain meds...which I didn't mind at all considering how much pain I was in...and then sent me for a CT scan and an ultrasound.
Needless to say, in 30mins they tell me I'm constipated. WHAT? I just paid that amount of money to find out I'm full of crap? When i asked about the pain the doctor responded, "well, that's where the poop is." WHAT??? Are you kidding me?
Now, for the record, I drink all day long. Not the good, get you feeling all warm inside, make a fool out of yourself drinking...just normal crystal lite. How can I be backed up? Is fiber really THAT important? I will be honest, with the little I eat, I don't' know how I could ever get any fiber in me. My husband and I even thought about if I ate anything that would cause this. Actually, I ate really well. A lot of crab and shrimp, egg, and even a protein shakes. To be honest, I thought I was eating better than I have been in five months.
Needless to say, they discharge me with a bottle of fizzy stuff that is supposed to loosen it all up. WHAT PART OF I HAVE A SLEEVE DO YOU NOT GET???? (what I wanted to yell at the medically trained idiot. Instead, I put the bottle in my purse, came home, got my fiber mixture out and my stool softener and took them. So far, nothing exciting has happened. Hopefully by tomorrow it will all work it's way out. Then, if I am still in pain, I will know it's way more than crap. But for now, it's official...I'm truly full of sh#$!!!
I had my 20th reunion last week and like many people going back to see people from H.S., I was scared. I got my nails and eyebrows done. I bought a new outfit. I felt great about myself up to the point that I walked out the door. What is wrong with me? It's been 20 years. I've changed....they have changed...but still, the fear I felt back in H.S. all came flooding back. Why is it that no matter how intelligent you are, you can still allow your feeling to take over any common sense you may have? I went from being a strong, independent woman to being a self conscience, pimple faced, teen who didn't feel as though I fit in anywhere.
For the record, most would have said I was popular. I would have said I was liked by people from all cliques. I always felt older than my age. I never understood the caddy, bit#$yness that many teenagers displayed. I didn't care if so-and-so flirted with whats-her-name's crush even though so-and-so KNEW how much whats-her-name liked him. I was always under the impression that if you teat people with respect, they will do the same for you. Now, with that being said, I still felt really fat and uncomfortable in my own skin. Mostly becasue every other girl in my class was a size 0 or a size 4 at the most. Here I was fighting to be in a 9-10 and I was HUGE.
Before my surgery I was looking back at photos of myself and I thought, "Damn, I was hot!!!" Too bad I didn't know that then. LOL Which of course brings us back to the reunion. After putting on my smile and trying to hide my fear, I began getting the most amazing comments. "You look just like you did in school." "Oh my gosh, you look GREAT!!!".....and so on. I was honest. I told them it was easy to lose weight that quickly when they take more than 1/2 you tummy. LOL. Then I saw her. The girl who was never really nice to me. She wasn't straight out mean, but we just never clicked. Then I heard the best words I could out of the mouth of a dear friend, " Did that girl have the same surgery you did? She had to have because look at all that skin on her arms and upper back. It's just HANGING there." I looked and by golly my friend was right! The person who used to make fun of me for being fat all through middle school and high school ended up gaining a lot of weight and she had to go through WLS. Now, I wasn't happy that she gained weight and couldn't get it off. I know what a struggle that is. What i was happy about was that she finally understood how I and a few others felt about her attacks in H.S. Karma really does exist.
So, the reunion ended up being amazing and I had a great time catching up with everyone. Now, I don't have a photo of that night...except for some face shots. But I will put those in with some face shots before surgery...and also some before clothed shots and then some photos from last night. I still can't believe the photos are of me. I walk by the mirror and wonder "who is that person" and when I figure out it me, I get really happy. I know WLS isn't easy....but I promise you it was the best decision I've ever made (except marrying my husband....no weight loss with ever measure up to him.)
Day of Surgery Size 26/28 top 24-26 pants
Night of Reunion
Last Night.....Size 18...shirt and pants!!!
NOTE: As always, this is a funny look at the things that have happened/are happening as I continue on my weight loss journey. I in NO way plan to replace food with alcohol or need to be told how bad I am for drinking one night with a friend (mind you it's a friend I haven't seen in 15 years). Please don't feel the need to lecture me or get passive aggressive with your comments. As my regular readers know, I am just giving a comedic side to WLS. Also, remember that everyone's journey is different and just becasue I may or may not be doing it the same way you are, does not mean that I am better or worse than anyone else. Ok, I think I covered it all. As always, enjoy and I hope the story puts a smile on your face.
Sorry it's been so long since I've blogged but I've been one little busy beaver. I had my friend and her family in from Costa Rica, then my friend from Ireland came in for two weeks (she is still here), and while she was here, my brother-in-law and niece came for a two night visit. Needless to say, I've been the hostess with the mostest. I've really missed doing my blogs. They seem to keep me focused and help me put things in perspective. I've also not had time to do myfitnesspal.com. So, for about a week and a half, I haven't written any of my food intake down. That just makes me feel like I've been a bad, bad girl....and not in a kinky good way. (sorry, those hormones are still pouring out of the fat cells LOL)
Anyway, I have so many stories for you all. I wish I could just sit down and type them all for you but I can't so today I am going to let you know about my first drinking experience since the sleeve and the interesting things I've learned from that experience. I hope I can give you a good idea of how the night went as I am not sure if I remember it all....but more on that later.
First, you have to understand how I met my Irish friend Cat. 15 years ago, I worked and lived at the beach. Cat worked at the same place and even though she didn't live with me, I swear there were times I thought she did. We were 21/22 and we were having fun. We worked hard and played harder. We spent many nights at a bar across the street from my house and only a 1/2 block away from work. I somehow was able to keep up with all the Irish kids that were in town for the summer. I could go one for one with them with any drink (except Guinness. That stuff is REALLY thick). I was even told I had become an honorary Irish lassie ( I even learned most of the Irish pub songs that they sang). I tell you all this to explain that after 15 years, loosing more than 1/2 my stomach, and a lot of weight I for some reason thought I could still drink like a fish. Never mind the fact that I haven't drank in almost a year (except for an occasional glass of wine or a night cap).
So, we go into a local bar and order two drinks. I got a L.I.T (long island iced tea) as I have always enjoyed them when they are done well. As I drank my drink and did some catching up with my friend, I could feel the effects of the liquor seeping into my blood. I won't lie, I enjoyed it. Paying less to feel this way was great (before anyone freaks, I don't plan to go out drinking on a regular basis......BUT....it was nice to go out and spend less money and get tipsy). This is about the time I knew the night was getting ready to change. The bartender (a little bored) asked if we wanted shots. "Are you buying them for us?" I asked. Of course he wasn't but after talking it over with Cat, we decided, "Hey, why not"? Now as I explained already, I haven't seen Cat for a long time and we needed to go on "a tear". Patron it was. Lick. Slam. Suck. OHHHHH how smooth. Now, from that moment on, the night began to just blend together. I know I played pool...and lost. (wonder why!!!) The drinks went down easier than I ever remember them going down and I have to admit, I was enjoying myself. Through it all, I never felt “drunk”. I mostly felt tipsy and then I would feel mostly sober....then tipsy again...and so on and so forth. I never thought anything about it as I was having fun and enjoying being out and about...the alcohol was just an added positive.
Then, we decided to go to another bar only a block or two away. Now, you have to understand that drinking and feeling tipsy was a whole new experience to me. I would go from being (or should I say feeling) sober then in just a few moments, I would be “footloose and fancy free”. The back and forth wold happen so fast, it wouldn't make any sense but to be honest, I wasn’t trying to make sense out it as I really didn’t care.. So, when we left to go to the other bar, I REALLY thought I was sober...that is until the curb jumped up and tripped me. I know it grew at least a foot with out telling me. There is no way a sober gal, like myself, could have missed that curb. Then, as always, I did my thing. I fell. I fell hard...and I fell fast. My knee was the only thing between my face and the pavement and because of that it was all scrapped up. Even my hands had stones imbedded in them, and I am sure I messed up my back just a little more than it was. It was such a hard fall that even the person driving passed stopped to make sure I was alright. Poor Cat, was so concerned, and all I could say was, "Really, I had to fall TONIGHT?" LOL...then it happened. I felt DRUNK. I collected myself, raised myself up from the ground, dusted off my knees and hands and tried to focus on the person only a foot away from me. Needless to say, it took awhile to focus....mostly because my glasses went flying off my face were now in Cat’s hands. Not seeing well is only intensified when your half blind. LOL
Once I put on my glasses, Cat and I began the walk (she walked I stumbled) to the other bar. Then it hit me when we were almost there. I was sober. It was like I hadn’t had a drink at all. How was this even possible? So, I did what any sober person of sound mind and body would do....I ordered a drink. LOL As I was sipping on my drink, we decided to get something to eat. I also figured that maybe getting a little food in my tiny stomach may help....it didn’t. I still went back and forth from sober and drunk but now it was happening faster than I can even begin to describe.
After finishing up there, it was time to get home. Yes, we were safe about it and no, we didn't just wait for me to "feel sober".. I thought my husband would find my stories funny...and he did when I told them to him sober. But BAM, next thing you know I’m drunk again. This of course caused an argument. Now, I should be more honest. My lack of knowing when to just keep my mouth shut and go to bed is what caused the argument....nothing else. But for some reason I felt it would be a great idea to go for a walk. So I walked out the door and made it down three steps and then THUMP....yes, that’s right, I fell down the steps. I figured this would be a good time to go back inside with my head down and my tail between my legs. Once I did that and listened to my husband give me a very short lecture, I took my Tylenol and went to bed. When I awoke the next morning, I remembered why it was that I no longer drink like I am still in college and then I then looked at my knee. I should say I felt my knee...then I looked at it. Yep, it was bad. It was all scrapped up and swollen. It was so stiff that I was unable to walk down the steps of my condo to get to the pool. I felt like a total gimp having to take the elevator because I was sloppy drunk...or should I say a sloppy sober one minute, drunk the other person? Anyway, .I did get the to pool and worked it out. I had to as the day after my Irish drinking reunion, I had my 20th H.S. reunion (more on that tomorrow) and I figured I would have to be able to walk that night for it. It worked. I got my knee working (and ended up hurting my shin...not sure how), and I was ready to face all the people from H.S....or at least as ready as I'd ever be. Funny thing is, I was more upset to realize that I was no longer Irish!!! Apparently when they took my stomach, the doctors also took my Irish drinking crown as well. Needless to say, lesson learned. Funny thing is, I am sure it won’t be the first or the last lesson I learn after having this surgery....I mean it’s only been three months. But to be honest, this lesson was a fun one to learn...up to the point I fell down...no, that didn't damper the mood.....it was fun until I woke up the next day hung over. LOL
When I started my WLS journey, I never expected to be a blogger. If you would have told me three months ago that I would be typing out my weight loss funny moments....and some not so funny moments, I would have told you that I thought you had lost your mind. Well, I would have been wrong. The other day I checked to see how many visits I have had and I was shocked to see that in only three months, you all have read my blog 10,000 times. DANG.....that's a lot of reading. Thank you so much for the support, and I hope I can continue to make you laugh and smile throughout our journeys together. I finally understand why Sally Fields said, "You like me. You really like me." It wasn't ego....it was pure shock.
Ok, now that I got done with all the sappy stuff. Stay tuned as I plan to write about my exploits from the past few days. I will explain that getting drunk isn't anything like it used to be....and I still have the ability to fall for no reason. Can't wait to write about my 20th H.S. reunion and let you all know how great it felt to be around the same size I was in H.S. So many stories....so little time. Stay tuned.
After posting my blog about my toe, I decided that it would be a great idea to post a photo of my husband's handywork. This is why I like him taking care of my wounds. He seems to know how to make them look all pretty. Sorry you have to see my feet and my really small little toe nails. Also, sorry for the bad polish removal. Ok, I think I am done with my sorrys for the day.
Last night, I was making myself some dinner as well as making my husband a PB&J sandwich. So, I went to the fridge, pulled out the jelly (who am I kidding, it's "fruit spread"), and BAM it happened. The "jelly" flew out of my hand and went straight down. It was like a missile locked in on my big toe and once it left my hand, it found it's target. I did the whole, "OUCH" thing and cursed and jumped around on one foot for a few seconds but then I saw it. The blood. LOTS OF BLOOD. Where is THAT coming from I wondered. I decided it was now a good time to take a better look at the fruit spread's target. There it was. The top of the spread (the very hard plastic part) landed smack dab in the middle of my toe nail. This in turn caused my nail to break straight across and at the same time cause the broken nail to cut into my skin under the nail. Hence, the blood.
So, I did what any intelligent, independent, take charge woman would do. I picked up my cell phone and called my husband, who was driving home from work. Now, I know there was nothing he could do for me, and I knew I could take care of this by myself, but I didn't want to. I wanted to be weak and I wanted him to get home ASAP so he could fix it. Just my luck, he was forty minutes away. That means I have to be the independent woman I know I am and take charge and deal with it. So I did just that. I cleaned it up, and wrapped it up so that I could get the bleeding to stop. I knew I would have to wait for him to get home to make it look all nice and pretty so I took the time to finish making my dinner (not his). I wasn't going to give that missile another shot at my other foot.
So, my husband finally comes in. I'm sitting on the loveseat with my foot up (big bandage on it), a plate on my lap and just as happy as a lark. He took one look at me and said, "really, I rushed home for this?" Then he saw the toe. And like the wonderful husband he is, he babied me for about 5 mins. I enjoyed every second of it.
Now, I told you all that to tell you this. That cleaning I was supposed to get done today...let's just say it hasn't even started. I woke up at 9am like I planed. Then I laid on the couch to wake up while I watched T.V. Apparently, it took me until 3pm to wake up. I slept the WHOLE day away. How is that possible? Now I am trying to figure out what I HAVE to get done and what I can just leave the way it is.
I am going to blame the fruit spread for this one. IF it hadn't of jumped out of my hand (yes, it jumped) and landed on my toe, I wouldn't have had to recover from the trauma it inflicted on me and I wouldn't have slept until 3pm. Plus, it's easy to blame something with no feelings....but I'm still upset with that spread and if it's not careful, I may just squeeze it all out and throw it away. that will teach it a lesson. LOL
I have had a really busy summer. I had my friend and her daughter visit in May. Then in June, they returned with her husband. Now, I have a a friend coming over from Ireland for two weeks and while she's here, I have my brother in law and his daughter visiting for two nights as well. Now, please know that I love everyone that is visiting and I wouldn't have it any other way. The issue is that I put so much pressure on myself to make my home look clean and welcoming. 10 years ago, I could clean my house from top to bottom, scrub the floors, clean the bathrooms, do laundry, make the beds, do dishes, and finally finish it all with dusting and vacuuming. Well, 10 years ago, my back wasn't as bad and I could wake up and have the house all done by 4pm. I would end the day by taking a shower and then getting a beer or glass of wine and relaxing on the couch while I looked around and admired my work.
That's not even an option now. My back has made it so that I have to clean in spurts. Because I have procrastinated, tomorrow, I will have to suck up the pain and attack the dirt and clutter with no mercy. Now, I know my home isn't 'dirty", it's more cluttered than anything. I also have the issue that we have no storage area, so there are many things that I would throw out, but my husband SWEARS he needs that empty box in case one day it's worth money. Yes, that's all true. I have boxes of empty game boxes for him. I have found a place to store them, but if I had my way, they would all be out side in the trash.
You all know that becasue this is how I feel, what will happen is one day, he will sell a game with the box and we'll have $10,000. Then I'll have to hear, "I told you so" for the rest of my life. Oh, I can't wait. LOL
Ok, back to cleaning. Because I know what I have to do tomorrow, and becasue I am stressed with all I have to do before my Irish friend gets here Thursday night, I now am not able to fall asleep. So, tomorrow, I will be in pain, tired, and I will have to clean for a guest. This should be fun. The problem is I know what will happen. By the time my husband gets home from work, I will be so exhausted that I will either break down sobbing (and then have to worry about the sinus issues), or I will start a fight with him for no reason except I want to yell at someone. Gosh I hope I cry.
For now, I think I will go to bed now. I will wake up around 9 or 10. I will do the laundry, dishes, and kitchen floor. Then I will do the bathrooms (quickly), and then go to the pool. Once I am done at the pool, I can come back, dust, and vacuum. Then I will make the house "company ready". You know what I mean: towels folded perfect and the bed made perfect, books placed in the perfect spot as well as a candle. I hope I'm not the only one who attempts to make my home look like it's in Good Housekeeping becasue if I am, I need more help than I thought. LOL Then on Thursday, I will relax and wait for her arrival.
Yes, that sounds perfect. Problem is, I know tomorrow, I will totally mess this up and will still be running around like a chicken with his heard cut off right to the point she walks through the door. Then I will say the words we all say to company. "I'm so sorry the house is a mess, please just ignore it." Yes, that will have to do.
Today is almost my three month point. Also, I have my 20th high school reunion coming up so I figured it was a good time to go shopping. Now I have no idea what size I wear or where I should shop. So, I called my mother. I always like to have someone with me that will be completely honest and tell me I look like a teenage wannabe, or I'm trying to wear a size WAY to small or WAY to big. Mom will always be honest. Sometimes a little too honest. One time she told me not to buy something because my boobs looked to big. That's what I liked about the shirt. Needless to say, I bought it.
Anyway, today I started at Lane Bryant. You all know the Big Girl store. I found some things I liked and grabbed a couple different sizes. To my amazement, I fit into a 14/16 shirt, and a 16 or 18 pants (depending on the cut). I can't tell you the last time I wore anything that size. Especially for my shirts. At that moment, shopping began to be fun. I started to understand why people love shopping....I could totally get into this shopaholic thing.
Then I went to Old Navy. Now, understand that the only thing I used to be able to buy here was a men's XXXL sweatshirt. Well, today, I was able to fit into the woman's polo shirts (XXL), woman's jeans (size 18), and an XL woman's sweatshirt. Now, here's the funny thing. Being big for most of my life, I've always worn very baggy clothes. Because even though we all know baggy clothes don't hide anything, we feel more comfortable and let's be honest, we're hiding behind those extra baggy shirts and pants. So, when I came out to look in the mirror wearing these clothes that were the correct size and fit me the way they were supposed to, I felt so exposed. It took me awhile to get that this is what I am supposed to wear and how I am supposed to look. Trust me, it's crazy. I really had to look at the emotional issues that come with being fat. Then, I said "screw that" I'm losing weight and doing well. I have the body I would have died for when I was 25. I'm curvy, and yes I have more weight to lose, but I am going embrace my new body and not hide it being my XXXL sweatshirt.
Well, apparently embracing my body cost $300. I embraced it in new bras, underwear, jeans, pants, sweats, and shoes. I also made sure that none of those things were baggy or hiding anything. Everything I bought showed my body in a tasteful way. However, the only person who will see the panties and bras will be my husband....and he'll be happy to hear that my cup size is still a DD. He was so worried about that. LOL
So, now that I told you about my wonderful day, I have to tell you that I have been kind of down. My scale number has not really moved over the past month and a half. If goes up and down between five pounds. Now, I KNOW that I am working out more and gaining muscle and that my body is changing but I still want that number to go down. I want to be under 200 so badly, I can't even explain it. The last time I was under 200 I was in high school and I was working out all the time and barely eating. But, right now that's my goal and I am so upset that I'm not getting any closer to it. But, going today and seeing how my body is changing even if the scale isn't going down makes me feel REALLY GOOD. So, I decided to stop worrying about that number on the scale and enjoy my body and my new clothes. Now, I just have to figure out what I'm going to wear first.
For some reason (I am sure it's due to the ridiculous amounts of chlorine in the pool water) I have begun to have some sinus issues lately. I have been able to deal with them with out taking any type of medicine. The most I may do is put some hydrogen peroxide on a Q-Tip and clean my ears out with it so that an infection won't come on considering how much time I spend in the pool. This happened to me today. As soon as I went under, I could feel the chlorine water find it's way up my nose and in my sinus cavity. I swear, I know how to swim and usually, I don't get any water up my nose, but for some reason this pool is different. Then, to top it off, my husband and I had a very intense conversation. You know the kind. The kind with some yelling, and tears, and then kissing and making up. I always enjoy the making up part. The problem is, when I cry, I look like buffoon. I am not one of those cute, pretty, "oh, please let me just hold you" type of criers. Nope, I am the kind with the snot running down my nose with tears intermixed, eyes so swollen and red I can't see two feel in front of me, and a nose that from all the blowing now looks like I should be leading Santa's sleigh on a foggy night. I always wished I could be one of those cute criers. The ones who don't look any different except that they have some tears trickling down their cheeks. But nope, I couldn't be that lucky. Then, to top it off, I ALWAYS get a sinus infection the next day or two from it. Nothing beats having a bad night and crying only to wake up int he morning with a pounding headache and a man inside your sinus cavity with a sledge hammer attempting to get to your brain.
So, I have learned that when I am done crying, I have to take two Sudafed (sp?) and two Advil (now it's Tylenol). This has always worked for me with out much issue. That is until I've had the sleeve done. Since the sleeve, I've tried to take the medication twice. Both times I feel like there is something in my little tummy that is BEGGING to get out. It doesn't care if it takes the elevator up or down. I know this is due to the size of the stomach and the amount of yucky stuff that has drained from my sinus cavity and my nose to my stomach. However. I have no idea what else to do. I have tried to take only one pill but that hasn't helped me at all. So, it ends up that I find myself in the bathroom throwing up all that gross stuff in my tummy.
To make matters worse, I haven't been able to sleep tonight. So, I took my morning meds around 5am. That includes my per-natal vitamin. I figured I'd be alright since it had been so long since the crying and drainage. I figured the elevator would be headed down by down. Boy, I couldn't have been more wrong. Then it happened. Something I hate. That thing where you're kneeling in front of the porcelain god begging to feel better. Then I saw it. It was a red color in the bowl. Talk about fear ripping through me. I woke up my more husband (who wasn't able to sleep well tonight either) so he could come look at my throw up. He informed me it was fine. But, being a woman, I never take his word. I started thinking what IF ANYTHING I had that had a red tint to it. Then it hit me. My vitamin. I opened one up and there it was. The same stuff that ended up getting flushed down to the place with all the dead gold fish and a lot of other things I'd rather not think about. At that moment, I wanted to cry again. Only this time, it would be tears of happiness. So many things had gone through my mind. Did a stable pop? Do I have an ulcer? Was there bleeding due to lack of iron? I became my own doctor and the thoughts I was having were not fun. Funny things is, even with all that going through my head, all I could think was, "Damn, I really don't want to pay the E.R. 150 bucks." Funny how money can really change your perspective on things. LOL
Now, before everyone gets all freaked out, please know that I've only cried to the point of needing the Sudaed (sp) two times since surgery. This is not an everyday type of occurrence. It just shocks me how much snot crying can produce, and that no matter how much I blow my nose, there always seems to be TONS left that drains into my stomach. My stomach that can only hold 3-4ounces at a time....you do the math....it's not a pleasant thought now is it?
Well, anyway, I am much better now. I've learned my lesson. Don't take my vitamin when I don't have anything in my stomach except the Sudafed and some crystal lite (or and the other nasty stuff) as it WILL NOT END WELL.
Sorry for the disgusting post....but as always, I like to tell you the good, the bad, the ugly, and the nasty part of weight loss. Today you got the nasty...and not in a good way.
One thing you all don't know yet is that I fall all the time. I can be walking along just fine and then BAM, I hit the ground. I've done this my whole life so I've learned how to take a fall. I also run into things and bang my head on things all the time. Again, I'm used to this. Also, I had lots of extra padding to keep me safe. Well, last night I found out that some of that padding is gone....and trust me, it HURT me to learn this.
I had gone over to my parents to get a cooler for my friend and her husband to use at the beach today. I cleaned it out with bleach and water.....and ruined ANOTHER shirt. Bleach and I just don't get along. Anyway, back on track. So, last night I looked inside of it and noticed that there was still some water in it. Now, you have to understand the way my counter is. It comes out to the living room to allow for extra space and a place to eat. Ok, so I was bent down (under the counter) cleaning out the water and then I decided it would be a great idea to stand up without getting out from under the counter. Well, my head found a new friend. I slammed my head on the counter so hard that I gave myself two knots, a headache and a concussion. It was right then I knew that I lost some fat in my head. I say that becasue I have hit my head on so many things over the years with out issue. I am talking counters, the open freezer door, walls (walking into them), doors. I swear, I always have some type of bruise on me but I haven't had a concussion since I don't know when.
My husband rolled his eyes at me when I told him how badly I was hurt. He's used to seeing me doing things like this and I am never a baby about it but for some reason last night he thought I was making it worse than it was. That was until he felt my knots. Thank you knots for telling him I am not a wimp. Then it all changed. He became so concerned. He wouldn't let me sleep and if I did, he made me sleep out in the living room so he could wake me up when he wanted to make sure I was ok. That was great until I woke up on my own only to find his sleeping on the couch (I was on the love seat). What is it with men, a remote, and a couch. I think there is a sleep button that we women don't know anything about on the remote.
Anyway, i am fine. Knots are much smaller today and the headache is gone. I just have to be more careful now that I'm losing my padding. It's going to suck when I fall again....I better start wearing one of those dog training suits...that should keep me safe.
I love laying out. The sun energizes me, and I feel so much better after being outside all day. So, when the weather is like it has been, I lay out at the pool. I enjoy getting a nice tan and I spend a lot of time in the pool as well. In order for me not get strap marks on my arms, I pull them down and tuck them in the top part of my suit. I've done this for years with no problem, as my boobs filled out the suit and kept it up. Well, the past few days, I've noticed that I have to be a little more careful with my suit if I go under water or move around a lot. I have to make sure I hold the suit near my boobs so that no one gets a R rated show for free. This has worked for me...until yesterday.
Now, here is how it all went down. My friend (you remember, the one from Costa Rica) is back in town with her daughter and husband and we all went to the pool. I was playing with the little girl while keeping an eye (and hand) on my chest. Then, it happened. I had a moment of forgetfulness. I picked up the little girl...tossed her to the side and then POP...out came the boobs....nice and perky from the cold water and at attention for everyone to see. I quickly went under water while pulling up my suit. I thought I made it with out anyone seeing then BAM there he was. He was sitting out on a lounge chair with this great big grin on his face. I knew right then that my boobs had a new admirer and he didn't care that they were a little (or a lot) droopy and smaller than they have been in years. He got a free boob show and his grin showed me he approved with what he saw. Right then, I decided that I needed to wear the new bathing suit I bought.
So, today I wore the new suit only to find out that one of the straps is coming undone and needs to be sewn. So, tomorrow, I will have to wear the old one. The one that wont stay up with out some support. Support that my droopy boobs can't give. So, I will have to give in and wear the straps or just accept that I may give a few more guys a show.....humm....white straps on my arms or showing off my boobs for a few strangers????? What will I do. I hate to say it, but there may be some very happy men at the pool tomorrow and Monday. Now, I wonder how my husband will feel about this once I read this to him.....maybe he will want to see them now....I got it, I think I'll read it to him with my shirt off and boobs out...that way he won't be listening to me. Yes, that will work very well. So, here I go, Shirt off....lets hope he is more interested in the boobs than what I am saying....we've been together for 12 years so you never know how this will end...but I'll let you know.
Ok, did it....He held on to every word....but he did glance down once or twice...that's pretty good after 12 years.
Working out isn't easy when you have back issues. However, being in the water is a great way to get pain relief and to get some exercise in with out hurting myself even more. I live in a condo so the pool is shared by everyone in the neighborhood. Usually there aren't many people there which is great for me and my work outs but I still get some strange looks from the people who are there (including my husband).
Now, I can't just dive on in and swim. I mean I can, but I will pay for it the next day. I also can't do a lot of bending and flipping or a lot of ab work. So, what I do is walk. I walk back and forth in the shallow part of the pool. Now, this can get very boring. Also, there is only so much people watching someone can do. It get's a little strange when you are caught looking at the same person for the fifth time because you can't believe she's wearing THAT, or looking at someone's boyfriend for the sixth time becasue you are really looking at the clock over his head but she can't figure that out. Trust me honey, no one wants your man....he's not even half as attractive as you seem to think he is and by judging by what I see in his shorts, he's not that great in bed either.
Anyway.....maybe that was a little much....but I'm just telling it like it is. So, in order to keep my boredom down and to make sure I don't get myself in any trouble with the girl who shouldn't be wearing that bikini or have the guy's girlfriend jump in and drown me, I've begun walking back and forth while reading my book. Not only does it help me not look at the people around me, it allows me to walk back and forth and lose track of time. Yesterday I walked for an hour. AN HOUR of walking in the water!!! I was shocked. I didn't even notice I was getting my workout....and isn't that how it should be? Why can't every workout be this easy? I could have waked for another hour except I knew I would hate myself the next day. So, from now on, I plan to get my walk done in the pool, with my head down and my nose in a book. That way, I can still be alive after the workout and not have my neighbors hate me. I think it's a win win for everyone.
I try to stay away from full frontal naked mirror shots of myself. I think this is something we learn to do as we get bigger and bigger. I can't tell you the last time I stood buck A@@ naked in front a mirror on purpose......then again, why else would I stand in front of one? But today, I did.
Back story to how this finally came to be. I was laying out at the pool today and I looked down at my legs and I thought, "Hummmm, is that just weight loss or is it skin? is it a little of both." I then tried to ignore it, but ended up in the water doing leg lifts and any other leg work out I could do to help "tighten" the area. So, after a 1/2 hour of trying to work the area, I decided to just relax and enjoy the sun and fun.
Now, anyone who knows me knows that once I get something in my head, I can't let it go. I do obsess sometimes....ok, most of the time....my husband is laughing and saying, "you mean ALLLLLL the time.". ANYWAY......lol So, I decided to pack up and come home. As soon as I came in, I took off my bathing suit and went to stand in front of the only full length mirror in our home. Remember, fat people don't like full length mirrors...they are the enemy. I haven't had a full length mirror in my home for over 10 years. The only reason I have one now is that it's the door to one of the closets in the house. As you can imagine, I didn't pick that door out.
At first I couldn't look at my whole body. I stayed focused on my boobs and up. I am used to seeing this section of my body before or after a shower so I knew what to expect. My chin is a normal one chin, my face had thinned out, my collar bone is beginning to show itself and my boobs are hanging a little low. SIDE BAR: Every time I look at my boobs (even before surgery) I sing this tune, "Do my boobs hang low? Do they wobble to and fro? Can I tie them in a knot? Can I tie them a Bow? Can I throw them over my shoulder like a continental solder? Do my boobs hang low." So far I haven't been able to make a knot or throw them anywhere except in a bra to push them up. Now you all know that song is stuck in your head right now....don't lie. LOL
Ok, so they looked the same. The boobs were hanging a little more and my "wings" are a little more wing like. I take a deep breath. I slowly allow my eyes to move down my naked body. The tummy area is looking smaller. There is some possible loose skin but only time will tell for sure about that. My hour glass figure is starting to show itself again (my husband is in heaven about that) and for where I should be right now after surgery, everything looks like it should. Now, I don't plan to run out and buy a bikini to show off my six pack abs. I may go by a six pack of beer to show off since I can't really drink it. LOL
Finally, I look to my my legs. Now, before I explain what I saw, you have to understand that prior to my back issues, I was always active. I was never"thin" but I was toned and tight. My legs were very muscular and I always hated how bulky they were. Then today as I forced myself to look at the area I was scared to death to face thigh to eye (a little word play LOL) , I realized I was no longer 25. I still have muscle but much less. Then I saw it or should I say THEM. The jowls. Right between my thighs in the upper part of my legs under my special lady place. They just hung there, all wrinkled up and looking like they should begin slobbering soon I was expecting to find the rest of the bull dog but thankfully that didn't happen. I was shocked. When did this happen? Was it before surgery and is now worse due to the weight loss? Then I looked at my thighs to my knees? Yeap, there is all is. It all made perfect sense. I have lost so much weight so quickly that my legs already need a lift and I'm just half way done with my weight loss. By the time I am ready to have any reconstructive plastic surgery, I will be tying things in bows and throwing them over my shoulder.
Then It all really hit me. Once I am done losing the weight, I will be thin but I will have the body of a ninety year old. How can I feel sexy wearing all that skin? I can see it now, "Honey, just throw that left boob over my right shoulder and then you separate the jowls between my legs to look for the "area"." Yeah, that's a real turn on. Lucky for me, I have a great husband and someday soon I will have a great plastic surgeon. My new song after I get my jowls removed and my stomach tucked and my breasts filled and lifted will be, "They don't hang low, or wobble to and fro, the surgeon cut em off becasue they were hanging to floor.......I'll have to work more on the song but you get the idea.
I have always been very "normal" when it comes to going number 2. Ok, stop laughing. Yes, I am going to talk about bowel movements. I have always said I would be honest and open and this is something EVERYONE does. There is no need to be ashamed or shocked. If you feel uncomfortable reading about this, move on to another blog. I won't take it personal.
Ok, now that I've told everyone what's coming down the pipe (pun intended) we should all be ready for an open and frank discussion about poop. It's something that everyone does and after surgery, I have found that I do it much less than before. I used to go once or even twice a day. There were times where after a good poop (you know the kind I am talking about....the ones where when you're done you feel like you've lost five to ten pounds) I would feel lighter and have a little more energy. Now, I barely go. Then, to top it off, it's never easy. I can't just get the feeling and go sit on the toilet for five or ten minutes. Nope, I get the feeling and end up spending a half an hour in there listening to "plop, plop,plop." It's never a nice S shape poop that you hear Dr. Oz always talk about. It's more like there is a very large rabbit in my colon. And, I have the poop to prove it. Well, I don't have it sitting next to me in a bowl or anything. That would just be gross. I just mean that when I do poop it comes out in small little nuggets. I have tried everything. I have added fiber to my drinks, taken stool softeners, and even laxatives. The only change is that the little things come out a little easier.
Now, the reason I am writing about this is to see if anyone else is having this issue and if so how are you dealing with it. Also, is this normal and does it get better over time. I will be honest, I don't think I can live with a rabbit in my colon for the rest of my life....I don't care how thin I am. Wait, I take that back. I used to say I would do anything to be thin....I guess little nugget poop is my "anything".
I was in the process of writing this very depressing blog about my chronic back pain when I had to use the bathroom. I decided when I was done that I should weigh myself as I haven't done that in awhile. Now before I go on, you have to understand that the past month has been nothing but pain filled. My meds have not helped me and I have not been able to go for normal walks...who am I kidding, i haven't really walked at all. Walking from the bedroom to the living room can almost bring me to tears (and I don't cry from pain). Dealing with this pain can bring even the strongest person down. I know, I've been dealing with it for almost 18 years. Now, I don't tell you that to get your sympathy. I tell you to get you to understand that getting on the scale was the best thing I could have done for my emotional well being today.
Today, the scale said 240.2. That is fifty nine pounds down in nine weeks. I had to take a second look. I remember getting on the scale nine months ago and seeing it up to 330 (my heaviest). Seeing that scale today, and the amount I have lost, is exactly what I needed to make me feel a little better. I am not saying that the numbers took away my pain. Trust me, it did not. But it did help with my mood. I walked out of the bathroom, sat back down at the computer with the heating pad on full blast for my back and erased my depression felt blog post about my pain and not being able to work out. I have since written this. A much more up beat blog post about losing the weight I have struggled with for years and years. It's funny how seeing a few pounds leave can be so inspirational.
Now, I have no funny things to add. No real words of inspiration. To be honest, the pain is still making it difficult to sit here and type. What I will say is this. I am pretty sure my day will be much better now that I decided to get on the scale today (first time in over a week). I have no idea when I could have ever said those words and truly meant them. For years, the scale is what caused my days to be worse. Not anymore. Getting sleeved is the best decision I've ever made!
It's been two months and four days since I had my WLS and I have to admit, I didn't know how much I had changed physically until today. Don't get me wrong, I knew my clothes were bigger or didn't fit at all. I knew I felt better in a bathing suit than I have in years but I am at that point, that I don't see any major changes. Now, my husband keeps telling me that I am one the "rare" people who have lost my weight evenly throughout my body. I guess he's right, becasue it wasn't until we look my two month photos that I saw a huge difference. Since surgery I have lost fifty five pounds. I have lost eighty five from my highest weight (which I do not have a photo of)
WARNING: These are not pin up photos. They show FAT....lots of it. They show folds and stretch marks and all the things as overweight people we have tried to hidden most of or lives. They show parts of my body that no one besides my husband has ever seen this big. This is very hard fro me to do, but I figured that people need to see that changes do happen after surgery even when we don't feel like they are happening. Also, I always promised to keep my posts honest and real and I figured this is the most honest and real I could be.
Before Surgery First Month Second Month
Before Surgery First Month Second Month
I have never had really bad PMS. Don't get me wrong, there were times I snapped for no reason or I would make my husband feel as though he should just hide away for a week or so, but real PMS, the kind that causes women to scream so that your hair stands on end, or the kind that turns that sweet person you've known and love into the devil.....I wasn't that type of PMSer. Now, I did have my moments. I would snap, but most of the time I realized why I was acting a certain way, I would apologize, and things would get better.
Since surgery, that is not the case at all. With all the hormones swimming through my body, my little snaps have become full on attacks. I can put any actress from any t.v. show or movie, who have had to show PMS to shame. I am worse than any Miadol commercial and trust me, Miadol wouldn't be able to help me even if I took the whole box. My husband's voice can sound like finger nails on a blackboard sometimes. Whom am I kidding, any voice can sound like that to me....even my own. The doctor told me this would happen, but I didn't really think she meant THIS bad.
The worst thing is that I am soooooo hungry and have been for two days now. My stomach is a bottomless pit. I want to eat everything. I want candy bars, ice cream, potato chips and pretzels. I want anything to eat besides protein. Well, I know I can't have those things which makes me even more grumpy (not sure how that's possible, but it is). So, how do I deal with this? I eat almonds and my roasted chickpeas and then there is Nutella. Now, for the record, I've never been a huge chocolate fan. It I did have chocolate, it was only becasue there were nuts and caramel under it....and sometimes a nugut filling, if I was lucky. But, as we all know by now, our taste buds change. Mine have decided that Nutella is now my PMS candy. I usually get about 5-10 pretzel stixs and 1tbs of Nutella (usually I can't finish this, but I want to ). I know this isn't something I shouldn't be eating but right now I don't care. It makes me less of a Bi_h. My husband would give me an IV of it if he could.
The worst part of all this is that I don't want to fall into old habits. So far I haven't gone out and gotten ice cream, a candy bar (king size), and some chips to eat in one sitting. Hey, don't judge, PMS is no joke and PMS after surgery is a horror movie with everyone waiting for the blood bath so that things can go back to normal. Ok, back on topic. I am so scared that I will that person that is bigger in two years than I was when I started this process. It scared me more than I even want to admit at times. I know by keeping that fear close to me, It should help me not make horrible food choices. I am hoping that next month I can have an apple and peanut butter, or some other type of fruit to stop the craving but until then, I am saying that the PMS made me do it. I know it's all a lie and I'm in charge of what goes in my body, but since I'm not my normal self right now, it is so much easier for me to blame the PMS than to get upset with myself. Because, to be honest even I don't want to deal with me while I'm PMSing...... didn't I tell you how bi__hy that person is?
Also, just an FYI. Fitnesspal.com is really helpful during this time of the month (it's good all month) as if I am honest and I put in everything I've put in my mouth to eat, I can see how just those little nibbles add up and what is causing me not to lose the weight I went through so much to loose. I wasn't completely honest with it yesterday...I mean how do you put in picking at my husband's dinner? It was the fist time I ate soemthing I didn't weigh. But, now I see the error of my weighs (pun intended). If I can't be honest with myself about what goes in my body how can I even think about loosing this weight? So, today I have been honest about what I have eaten. One good thing is that even though I am still PMSing, I refuse to go over my daily allowance of calories, so I am more aware of what goes in my mouth.
Now, before I get tons of comments about how I am on a slippery slope and what I've done is SOOOOOOO bad for me (STOP YOURSELF FROM TYPING THOSE THOUGHTS), I do know that I made a mistake...PMS or not....and I am working on changing my PMSY ways. However, I do not believe in depriving your body and if once a month I want to eat nutella two days a week, then I will. Trust me, I can't eat more than 1tbs a sitting so I know I won't overdose on the stuff.
Now, it's time to get back at making my husband's life hell. Good thing he loves me, becasue I think I would have left me by now. I know how bad I am being but I just can't help myself.....I mean it, I really can't stop it from happening. I feel the anger build up and the therapist in me says, "Ok Trish, don't say anything. You're not your normal self. Just let it go." and then the PMS person says, "SCREW YOU, THOUGHTS". Then I proceed to be mean. I can't wait for my body to get used to these hormones. No one should have to deal with me like this, especially the man I love and who must really love me or else he would have been gone last month when it happened. Hopefully today is the last day of the horror movie aka "PMS IN THE SHOCKLEY HOUSE" It's really draining being this mean and unhappy for this long.
REMINDER: This is a comic view of weight loss. Everything in this post is true. If the bluntness of some parts bother you, then I'm sorry....but when we lose weight, things change. Some of those things don't seemed to be spoken about much....until now. Enjoy the open truthfulness of this blog and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.
I misplace something everyday. I am the queen of not knowing where I put something, or putting something in a "safe place" only to forget where that "safe place is". But, over time, I've always been able to stumble across the things I've lost. I've found keys in the freezer, my purse in the kitchen cabinet, a cereal box in the bathroom, and I've even found my underwear (clean) in the fridge. I am the master of having something in my hand and then getting sidetracked and I end up trying to do too many things at once, causing the items in my hands to end up in places they were never meant to be. If something can me misplaced or lost, I am the person to make sure that happens. I still can't find the money I hid in the house for emergencies...despite the many "emergencies" that we've had. Maybe one day I'll stumble across it when I really need it but I've looked everywhere I can think of and NOTHING!!! Apparently I am much better at hiding something than I thought.
The only thing that wasn't easy for me to lose was my weight. I would try everything I could think of. I've even offered to give it away for free to people who complained about not having enough boob or butt. However, that never seemed to work. Now, after the surgery, I am proud to say I've been loosing my weight faster than I can put my underwear in the fridge or my keys in the washing machine (been there and done that). The only problem is that with the weight loss, I've noticed that I'm losing something else as well.....my boobs.
Now, I was nine years old when I started wearing a bra. I remember thinking how excited that I was that I wouldn't be flat chested like my sister. I used to fill up balloons with water and put them in my shirt and dream of the day when my boobs would be that big. Apparently, someone listened and my boobs did grow...and grow, and I loved ever second of it. Funny thing is, I never realized just how big they were until college. My mother would make me wear baggy shirts and I had to "hide" them most of my adolescent life. But at the time, I didn't realize that's what I/she was doing. So, once I got to college and figured out I could flaunt them with out looking too trashy...I did. I love my boobs. They were a perky 38DD for most of my life. I am not sure how I got so lucky with them staying up the way they did, but I wasn't going to complain. Then, I hit my thirties and gravity started to rear it's ugly head. They started to droop a little but I was still very proud of them. Also, because I had gained over 100lbs since college, they were even bigger than before. All was well in my world when it came to boobs.
Then, two months ago I went through weight loss surgery. My husband told me I would lose them. I laughed. Even when I was thin (a size 9-10) I was still a DD. No matter how much I had lost in the past, I always kept my boobs. That is until now. In two months, I think most of my fat has come from my boobs. They have not only shrunk dramatically in size, I now have this excess skin that I can "fold over". I do this when I look in the mirror and imagine what they would look like if they were perky again. Even when I touch them and cup them in my hands they feel different. They used to overflow but now they almost fit in my hand. They have also decided that instead of pointing out, they like to look towards the floor. I never thought nipples could point that low but apparently mine can and they have decided they like what they see. I try to think that they are looking to see if they can seem my feet yet. They are getting closer, but not just yet.
It's funny, I never thought I would be sad to see fat go. But the fat in my boobs, well we have bonded over the years. We've become friends. We've gone through ups and downs together...mostly ups. They were still nice to me even when I would keep them locked in a small "room" all day that was too small it left marks on them. They took my abuse and still loved me. But now, they found their out. They seem to keep leaving a little bit at a time. Now, they have a room that is getting way to big for them. They never have any marks on them, and they can move around in the room as much as they want. But apparently that's not good enough for them. I even tried to put them in nicer more expensive rooms to no avail. They have just given up and left. The part that had stayed seems just as depressed as I am about the other part leaving. I mean why else would my nibbles point down the way they do?
Oh well, it looks like I am going to have to get used to it for now. I still have about 100lbs to lose so I am sure I will lose even more boob over that time. I have a feeling that when all is said and done, my boobs will turn into ski slopes and the nipples will be the launch area for the jump. But, what my boobs don't know is that one day they will find their way back up. They will look straight ahead and be proud of who they are once this is all done and the surgeon does a lift and fill on them. Then, they won't have any reason to look down but I will have all the reason in the world to look down and admire them again. Plus, my husband is looking forward to it when they look like they used to. He is not afraid to tell me how excited he will be when they get "pumped" back up. Sometimes I think he married my my boobs instead of me, but then he says things like this, "Honestly honey, I love you no matter what they look like. Your boobs don't listen to me or love me.....they just give me a place to lay my head at night." ummmm...thanks honey...they love you too. LOL
UPDATE: I wasn't able to post this blog after I wrote it due to the site being down. So, I decided to do other things around the house...one was to shower. I noticed something crazy...my boobs are bigger. I think they knew I missed them and asked the fat in my legs or stomach to ride up the internal elevator and join the party at club BOOBS.....but the sad thing is I know it's only because I am going to start. my period in a few days. Oh well, at least I can enjoy them until that's over....maybe my husband can enjoy them before it starts. He better be careful, I may attack him when he walks in the door this evening.....hummmm we'll see. Maybe I will let him attack me today....All I'll have to do is show him how much bigger they are today and that may do the trick. Hope so. LOL
