Now, for the record, I am not by any means thin...YET. However, I have to admit that today at the pool, I felt really good about myself. From my highest weight, I have lost close to eighty five pounds. Since my surgery, seven weeks ago, I have lost a total of fifty five pounds. It amazes me how losing that weight has affected me.
Last year I would go to the pool and try to get a chair as far away from people as possible. I would also make sure the chair was in close proximity to the steps of the pool so that I could just dart in without having too many people see me. I know people don't like to look at overweight people so I didn't want to cause their eyes to have to hurt any more than they would have to. I figured that the faster I got in, the faster I could "hide" in the water. I would have never EVER thought about sitting on the edge of the pool and chatting with a friend or walking to the far steps to get in becasue someone was hanging out at the ones near my chair. I would have waited until the people moved and then darted in to the pool. I broke all my rules today.
First, I proudly strutted my stuff down the length of the pool to go in the steps that were not being occupied. Then, I sat on the edge of the pool, legs in, and didn't once think about how fat I looked and how I shouldn't be sitting there. I also didn't dart in, and attempt to hide in the water. I took my time getting in the chilly water and enjoyed myself. When I was done, I again proudly strutted my stuff back to my chair, laid down and soaked up the sun. At one point I even looked at my ever shrinking legs and thought, "Damn girl, looking good!"
I have to admit, I like this new feeling. I can't remember ever feeling this good about myself. Even when I was a size 10 I was self conscience. I am sure the more I lose, the more my body image will change for the better. and I can't wait for that to happen, but for now, I am going to enjoy my time this summer at the pool or beach and continue to strut my stuff every chance I get and I hope you all do the same. Strut that stuff and be proud...sleeve or no sleeve, we are all beautiful!!!
As always, this is a comic view of my weight loss.....though the story is true, it has been changes a little in order to find the comical side of things. Enjoy!!!!
My scale can not decide what number it wants to show me. It goes down, then back up, then down again. It is worse than any yo-yo I've ever owned. At least with the yo-yo, at some point it stays down because I don't know what I'm doing when it comes to using one. I can't seem to figure out why my weight won't make up its mind. Nothing has changed in my eating habits but for some reason my weight loss has decided to take a vacation and it didn't tell me where it was going. I am not sure why why it decided to leave now, we were getting along so well. I would tell the scale and weight loss how happy I was to see them, and they would keep going down. Positive reinforcement seemed to work. Now, the numbers go up and then down but never back to where it's last lowest number was. I have continued to tell the scale and the numbers that it's alright, I understand, and that when they are ready they will begin to fall again. However, that's not helping.
So now I am thinking that negative reinforcement may help. Problem is, the only thing I can think of would be handing my scale back over to my husband and the only person that feels the affect of that is me. And, as you know I've worked really hard to get my scale privileges back. I've been very good not obsessing and/or weighing myself daily. I weigh myself every other day or every three days. That seemed to work...until now. I was getting good results and was a happy camper as I watched the numbers go down...down...down. That's not the case now. This camper is so not happy.
The numbers have jumped up and down with in a ten pound radius. I can't make any sense of it. I thought about the fact that I'm gaining muscle, but that's been the case since the beginning. I've thought about it being that time of the month, or that I'm constipated, but that offers little encouragement. So, now I am starting to think that maybe my body knew how happy I was becoming with it and wasn't used to all the positive thoughts so it decided to protest. Kind of like a teenager that begins getting bad grades after people tell him/her how smart he/she is. Kind of like self sabotage. But, I'm not sabotaging anything. I eat around 800-1000 calories a day. I get my protein in and I've begun working on getting my fruits and veggies in as well. So, I have decided my scale is wrong. It has to be. There is no other reason for it to be the way it is. If it wasn't wrong, it wouldn't keep giving me all these different numbers. I've been nice to it. I've told it how happy I am to have it in my life. Then BAM, it goes and does this to me. So, I've decided I'm going to ignore it. I'm not going to spend anytime with it for the next few weeks. That way, it can see how lonely life can be with out me. It also gives it time to think about the emotional damage it's caused me and then maybe (just maybe) it will decide to act right and show the correct (LOWER) numbers. Yes, as of right now, I've decided that the scale and I are on a break (like Rachel and Ross). But, if it decides to go find comfort elsewhere (with my husband), I will NOT take it back. Just because we are on a break doesn't mean it has the right to go give it's numbers to anyone else who shows it some attention.
The neatest thing has happened in the past week. I am seeing and feeling bones I haven't seen or felt in over twenty years. Talk about neat. Oh, and talk about painful...
When I watch t.v. or look at magazines, I always wished I had two things. The little hole between the legs and the butt....you know the one, really skinny girls have it. Girls with no butt and no hips or thighs. The second was the collar bone and the little indent at the bottom of your throat. Now, since I've gotten older, I no longer want to be so skinny that I have no shape. I like my ass. I like my hips. I really like my curves and I plan on keeping them. I know my boobs have left but hey, I can always pay to have them pumped back up...and lifted. Trust me, they need to be put at attention. They have been looking down at my feet all the time since I've lost surgery. They need to be able to look men in the eye when men are looking at them instead of my eyes. LOL They haven't been perky since high school.....maybe they are sick of looking at men staring at them for all those years. LOL
So, here is what I've noticed. I have ribs. Not only in the front but also in the back. My husband finds this the most interesting thing. He likes to keep poking at them despite the fact that I've explained to him that it's not very comfy for me. Who knew bones could hurt so much?!!!! As we lay in bed and he wraps his arm around me. Side note: I've been with him for ten years. In ten years, I had always been uncomfortable with him spooning me. I always felt that the fact he couldn't really wrap his arm around me had to be turn off. He didn't think so, but I was so uncomfortable. Now, his had not only wraps around me, it can tuck under me!!! Ok, back to the ribs. when he hugs me or spoons me, I always feel him feeling them. He looks so bewildered. He's been honest and tells me that he feels like he's hugging another person. He then backs it up but saying despite that, he is so happy it's me he's holding on to. Gosh I love that man. Needless to say, ribs hurt when they get poked or rubbed on. I am sure I will get used to it and it won't hurt anymore, but for now, I try to keep his fingers from poking my ribs. LOL
I've also noticed that I have a collar bone. AND, I have the little indent at the end of my throat. Now, it's not very prominent but if I stand a certain way or laugh, it can be seen with no issue and I'll take that!!! I don't recall ever seeing my collar bone or that little indent. It's the neatest things ever. I have even found myself moving my shoulders a certain way so that other people can see them. Part of me feels that if others can see them, then they can see I'm not fat. I know that's crazy to think, but no matter what I see, I am still that fat girl that is always self conscience and thinks people still look at me like THAT girl...the one that's WAY to over weight. The one that would be beautiful if ONLY she could lose some weight. Another side note: I HATE THAT COMMENT. I am beautiful no matter what my size. Why do I have to lose weight for you or others to find me attractive? Do the people who say this think it's a complement? It's REALLY not. It's actually one of the rudest comments I've ever heard. It's that put down right to your face. The one that sounds nice but if only they knew what you were hearing and feeling...then, maybe, just maybe they wouldn't say it again..EVER. Ok, I am now stepping down from the soap box I got up on. LOL
Ok, now that I've poured my heart out and gotten up and then down from my soap box...I am sharing some photos. One is from the day of surgery. The rest were taken this evening. Sorry for the no makeup, half asleep, P.J wearing look I have going on. I just hope you can see the bones I'm talking about....maybe it's all in my mind, but that's fine with me as it makes me feel really good. and who wouldn't want to to feel good? Hope you get the idea of the bones...LOL
This weekend was a big one for me. My husband and I went to Oktoberfest at the local church. It wasn't as fun as I expected but it was interesting to see a priest walking around with a chicken hat on...I am not making this up!!! To top it off, he was playing the accordion. Those priest really know how to have a fun time. LOL The next night, I went to my sister's annual bonfire. For those of you who don't know, my sister is three years out and 125lbs down after having bypass. So, even though the sleeve is different, I do use her for support and inspiration. Plus, she's one of the few people I can straight out ask if she sees a difference. LOL
Now, as well all know, stalls happen. They suck, but they happen. I stalled for a month and a half and was so upset that I thought maybe this was the weight my body was supposed to be. I know it sounds crazy, but after watching the scale go up and down between five pounds for that long, you do get a little crazy. My husband should be happy that I didn't have a complete nervous breakdown. Well, my stall broke. I lost 10lbs and it's stayed off. Knowing this, I got prepared to go out. I don't have any winter or fall clothes that really fit. I actually tried on some things that just hung on me....something that has NEVER happened to me. My favorite sweatshirt engulfs me but, the thing is so warm and so comfy that I just don't care. Ok, sorry for the side bar. So, I ended up in a pair of jeans (a size too big) and a sweater (2 sizes too big). Even with the semi baggy clothes, I felt good about myself. I was ready to face the world...or at least the local drunks at Oktoberfest. We went. We looked around,. We left. It just wasn't what we expected. So, we ended up going out to dinner at a local diner. Once inside, I saw some people I have known for awhile who haven't seen me in months or years. It was so wonderful to hear the complements about how I was looking. I think it's exactly what I needed. I have been feeling so low about my weight loss for so long, that having people REALLY see it, made me feel almost famous. Well, maybe not famous, but at least noticed. LOL
I came home after the bonfire the next day and was looking at photos. The full length photo makes me look pregs (I'm not) so I'm not sharing that one. However, I have a photo of my face that shocked me. Mind you, the one photo of my sister and I doesn't make my face look this small, but hey, I'll take what I can get. It also doesn't help that my sis is almost 100lbs smaller than I am right now. (Side note: she was never as big as I was so I have to lose much more weight to be her size) Sometimes you just need to see yourself in a new way. I need to see myself as a woman a 100lbs+ smaller than I was less than six months ago. So, I am posting the photo of my face right before surgery and the photo from the fire. Just to help me see the changes and to help others see that going through all this is SOOOOOOOOOOOO worth it (even when it doesn't seem like it) . I just can't wait to see myself in another six months. Maybe one day, my sister and I will be only 10-20lbs different (I have a much bigger build than she does so I don't think my body is made to be 120lbs no matter what any chart says!) So, enjoy the photos. Keep your heads up. But most importantly, know that no matter how long your stall is, if you keep doing what your supposed to, you will get out of the stall.
Well, it's the end of another year and to be honest, I still have to remind myself to write 2012 on my checks (when I actually have to use one). Therefore, writing 2013 is going to be a huge pain in the rear for me. Now, I am not one to make resolutions. To be honest, i don't think I've ever kept one I've made so I finally realized that there was no reason to make any. If someone wants to change, they will...it won't just magically happen becasue it's January 1st. Trust me, I wish that was a case. If it was, we wouldn't all be constantly working to get/remain healthy and thin. Also, there would be a lot of surgeons out there who wouldn't be as wealthy as they are right now...thanks to us. You are welcome surgeons...from all of us. Sorry, i digress. Now, I thought I wold take the time to look back on my year and share my wisdom with you all....or at least what I think is wisdom. It could be a big ole pile of steaming crap, but I'm going to share it anyway. Lucky for you all, if it is crap, you don't have to smell it since you're reading it. So, here is what I've learned...or at least began to learn in 2012.
1. It's true, you do feel much better when you stop smoking. But, it's also true that even after a year, there are times you still want one....even if it's only for a second or two
2. Weight loss surgery is NOT an easy fix. It's hard work and I battle every day with changing my negative food thoughts and behaviors. But, it does get easier.
3. Getting frustrated becasue you can't eat what others are having is normal. Crying and yelling at your husband for eating pizza in front of you is PMS.
4. Fiber is CRITICAL after WLS
5. Stalls are normal...even if they last for a while
6. Getting down for being in a stall is just as normal....but remember number 5!
7. My weight loss is not like anyone else's. There are people who have lost more or not as much in the same amount of time.
8. Going from a tight size 26-28 to a good fitting 16 feels better than any food can taste
9. Taste buds change....which can be good and bad.
10. Pulling out my clothes from the dryer and having to double check to make sure they are mine due to how small they look is the coolest thing about doing laundry
11. Sex is better....and it was really good before hand
12. Raging hormones can make you a b***h to live with so make sure you live with someone who truly loves you.....I'm lucky because I would have divorced me if I were my husband
13. Make up sex while having raging hormones is even better than better
14. My boobs hang low....(cue my "hang low song"....for all those who have read my prior blogs)
15. I miss my boobs...and my butt.
16. Surgery can give me my boobs back and I'll still be thin....sounds better than having perky, big boobs right now.
17. Onions don't sit well with me anymore
18. I fart....a lot since surgery.
19. I really hope that stops soon....but not as much as my husband does
20. I have a rabbit living in my colon....and we've learned to live together
21. Pain after surgery isn't as bad as I thought it would be...and they didn't give me the right meds to deal with the pain
22. Walking is the best thing to do to get gas out
23. I am not perfect and sometimes I eat things that I shouldn't...but I don't eat much
24. Alcohol has a WHOLE different affect on me now.....that can be good or bad...good for me, bad for hubby who doesn't like me tipsy. LOL
and last but not least
25. Laughing through all the ups and downs is the only thing that can keep you sane
So, with all these little tid bits learned, I plan to go into the new year with an open mind and a willingness to continue to make positive changes, the knowledge to know I'm not perfect, and strength to say no to the bad food (most of the time). I hope you all are able to do the same.
Happy New Year everyone.....here's to a safe, happy, and healthy year ahead.
Now for some funny stuff.....LOL
Have to remember to eat so that I don't look like this in the New Year!!!
Have to remember not to eat too much so this doesn't happen....again....LOL
Most importantly, I have to remember to be happy with who I am...on the inside and out.
So many things change when we lose weight. Things we don't even realize until it's been going on awhile. For example, the way I sleep next to my husband. I no longer take up the majority of the bed. I can lay with my head on his shoulder and my leg wrapped around him without worrying that I am going to kill him with my weight. Or how about hugs. My husband's arms wrap so far around me, I feel like he's holding a different girl than he used to. There is also the shower and being able to reach areas I couldn't get to before. And let's not forget underwear...yes, underwear. Befoe surgery, my uderwear was too small for me. I mean it fit, but it didn't fit correctly. I just refused to go up in size. Now, it all hangs on me. There is nothing like putting on a thong and having the crotch flap around becasue they are just that big on you but, the big one for me is laundry. Yes, laundry. I know it sounds strange, but hear me out...or at least read me out.
Now being fat, we learn little tricks to help us feel a little better about ourselves. We learn that wearing black and other solid earth tone colors helps us feel better about ourselves and can take off a few pounds. We learn what styles work with our bodies and how not to wear a light color up top as it makes us look bigger all around. There are so many little tricks that we learn from magazines and friends and to be honest, i am not sure if any of them work that well. Another HUGE one is to lay on the bed to get the hanger to hook into the zipper of the jeans to pull them up and button them. The key was if you were able to sit up after you did this. Sometimes i couldn't even bend at the waist and would have to roll off the bed and get help to stand up. I'm still not sure how I thought I looked good in pants that tight and painful but at least the number on them said size 10, 12, 14....or where ever I was at the time. Sure they may have been a size or two too small, but i didn't care. Funny thing is, that once you wedge yourself in pants like that, you end up with a huge fat roll in your mid section. This can not be hidden so you must wear a very baggy shirt and hope no one tries to hug me or that I don't get caught in a big wind where it forces my shirt back and my roll to be seen by all.
Oh the fun times of being over weight and aiming to look thin. But the biggest most used trick in the book comes during the cleaning phase. As we all know, bigger people don't dry clothes on the dryer. Or at least we don't dry most clothes in the dryer. I can't recall the last time before my surgery that i dried my shirts in the dryer. We all know shirts shrink in the dryer!!! So, why would I put them in there when i could hang them up on a hanger and allow them to air dry....but only after I have stretched out them out with my hands. That way, when i put them on, i can feel as though they are getting to big for me for me even though I KNOW that's not true.
So, imagine my surprise after surgery when I started noticing that the clothes i was hanging up were getting too big for me! So, I decided to take the plunge. I decided to dry the shirts and sweatshirts that have NEVER seen the inside of a a dryer. I figured that of they didn't fit when they came out, I could always re-wash them and stretch them back out again as they dried on a hanger. So, I took the step from the washer machine to the dryer and placed my wet shirts in there. After what seemed liked forever, I pulled them out to inspect the damage. To my shock and awe, there was none. Not only did they still fit, they were still to big for me. Another crazy thing I noticed was that even my new jeans weren't tight after they were washed and dried. That has never happened to me!!! They fit me just like they did when I bought them. So, is this what it's like to wear the correct size for you? How crazy is that? I never knew this is how the other side lived. LOL
To be completely honest, there are a couple of things I can't bring myself to dry. They are new sweatshirts. I don't know if it's just habit or if it's becasue I like the way they fit and I don't want them to shrink. I do know that I don't stretch them out at all when I hang them up and I've even thrown them in the dryer for a few mins to warm them up prior to wearing them with out any issues. But I still can't make that step from the washer to the dryer with those things. Maybe once I lose a few more pounds and they get a little bigger, i will be able to do it but for now, i am happy with the progress I've made. I am also happy with the lack of sore, red marks around my stomach from squeezing into those jeans i was talking about earlier. That is one thing I will never miss!!!
So, what major changes have you noticed that have surprised you? I would love to hear about them. Come on people, comment and let me know you're actually reading these things I'm writing....also, let me know I'm not the only one going through these crazy changes and you can relate. I need to know I'm not alone here.
Six months ago today at this time I was laying in my hospital bed in so much pain I didn't know if I should cry or attempt to rip out my own stomach (or what was left of it). It look my husband going mad to get the doctor to understand that the meds they had me on were nothing when you take in consideration my nomal daily pain meds. Once he changed my meds I was much better. I remember wanting to sleep but being woken up every hour by the nurses. NOT FUN. I also remember wondering if this was all worth it. Well, I am getting ready to give you some photos so that you can see that YES, it is worth is. Mind you, I have more to go but as of today I am 110lbs down from my highest and around 85lbs down from surgery day. I think that's pretty cool. The only thing that bothers me is the extra skin on my tummy. I seem to look so much better with clothes on....but I think most women feel that way most of the time. LOL
So, enjoy the photos. Hope they help you remember that all this is worth it. Even if we're not where we want to be right now, we have all done something and all those somethings add up to big things. I just can't wait to post another photo blog in six more months and see how much more I have lost. However, even if I'm only 20lbs smaller I'll still be happy. Why? becasue any loss is good.
Note: White Shirt photos were from six months ago. Blue Shirt photos with hair up were four months ago. Blue Shirt, hair down from today! Oh, red shirt and glasses was day of surgery...only one of those though. Enjoy the photos and let me know what you think.
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.
I don't know why I did it, maybe it was the pretty blue color that was calling my name. Maybe it was the infomercials showing all these woman with great arms. Maybe it was just to try one out and see if it works. Much to my husband's amusement, I did it, I bought a shake weight. My husband found this his opportunity to quote South Park and laugh at my purchase. I have to admit, the Shake Weight episode of South Park is one of the funniest ones I've ever seen. if you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it. With all that being said, I can now say I am proud owner of a light blue shake weight and despite what the infomercials say, it's not as easy as it looks.
First, it comes with a warning. I am not sure what the warning said as I ripped it off and threw it aside as I digressed into a five year old at Christmas and tore the box apart in an attempt to get to my new toy. Once I had it out, I began to shake. I followed the photos that were included in the box and I noticed a few things. First, if my Wii controller comes with a warning and a string to wear around wrist, then you would think and three pound bar that you shake while aiming at your face would come with some safety precautions as well. But it doesn't. Instead, it comes with mirrors on each end so you can see yourself as the bar flies up and hits you square in the mouth, breaking your front teeth, and causing your lip to swell up to double it size. I mean why else would they have the shinny mirrors on the ends?
Second, there is NO WAY you can do this exercise with out it looking sexual. I tried. The whole concept is some strange joke on all women. I think it's a ploy for us to be better at using our hands for "massages". If you ask any man, they will tell you woman can't massage that well...even though they tell us how good it feels. I think this exercise bar was invented so that men didn't have to sit (or lay) through a bad massage ever again. Now, think about this. Think about the positions the Shake Weight wants you to do. Each hand, two hands in front of your chest, off to the side and towards your face, and behind the head. Ok, I can't figure out this position, except that it gives men a great view of our chest as it bounces up and down as we are busy trying not to slam the Shake Weight into your head.
So, with all this knowledge, I still shake away. I am hoping my arms will become these beautiful cut arms that are only possible with Photoshop. I know it will take a lot of shaking and possibly a lot of bangs to the head and face, but I'm going to get my 15 bucks out of this thing. Then again, it could just be my concussion talking.
NOTE: Before I start this blog, there are a couple of things you should know. The first, the photo is NOT of me. It is a random curvy attractive woman on the web. I was going to put a photo of myself on here from tonight, but my husband thought it was a tad too reveling...So, I colored out my breasts and posted one at the end of the blog. LOL..... Second, in an attempt to take a photo of my sexy self, my husband almost ended up in the ER last night....more on that later.... LOL Lastly, every time I attempt to surprise my husband in a sexy way, SOMETHING goes wrong, Tonight was no different.
A LITTLE BACK STORY........
Saturday night I was headed out with the girls. I borrowed a pair of jeans from my niece (size 16, which I haven't been in since I was in H.S.), I borrowed a pair of shoes from my sister (my only shoes I own are the kind people wear on comfy days....translation, heals and bad backs don't go together) and I bought a new shirt that when I tried on and looked at myself, I have to admit took me awhile to accept that the person staring back at me in the mirror when I tried it on was really ME. But since I had been made fun of the weekend prior for wearing clothes that were WAY too big for me, I figured it was time I took the plunge. And according to the neck line on the my new shirt, i did just that!
So, once I got my friends overwhelming approval, we headed out. My husband was already out with some of his friends and said he would stop by the bar before he headed home for the night. I knew he would like what I had on, and I couldn't wait to show off to him. Sure enough, as soon as we got there, he pulled in the parking lot. As I walked up him, he took one look at me and turned and walked the other way. HOLD ON A MINUTE!!!! WHAT IS GOING ON HERE???!!! I thought for sure he would LOVE my outfit. It hit my curves in all the right ways, showed off the three things he likes most on me....my boobs (that's two) and my butt (number three).
Now, my husband is a very shy. He's a geek, nerd, dork (whatever word you feel more comfortable using here) and since I know him as well as I do, I knew exactly what happened. He took one look at me, thought I looked amazing, didn't know how to respond so he tried to act like nothing was different. Even when I asked him his thoughts, all I got was a, "You look nice." AGGGGHHHHHH, really? Nice? That's all you have for me? Good thing I love you and I know you love me!. But still, that doesn't take away a girl's need to see "that look in his eyes" and that "little smile" that comes out when a man l;ooks at you and thins you're the "cat's meow". Not sure where the meow thing came from...not soemthing I say EVER!!!
Well, the place was too crowded for him and he decided to continue home. I got many approving looks from men of all ages and shapes and sizes. To be honest, I even got some approving glances from females as well. Nice to know both sexes found me attractive. The bathroom was where I received the overwhelming approval of my female sisters. I was told I looked hot with out looking slutty.....(every girl's goal when she goes out...unless she's a street walker) That means i somehow managed to have the approval of everyone that night....except it seemed my husband.
So, when I came home feeling all frisky (and a little tipsy) , I was a shocked to find Scott asleep on the sofa. Once he woke up, I made him very aware of how his lack of interest in me made me feel. I also let him know that the only person i was out to impress was him and he seemed to be the least impressed of anyone who looked me up and down. Men I tell you. Because I was tipsy and hurt, I didn't really give him time to respond, i just laid it all out and then went and changed my clothes for bed. By the time i was done, he was in bed snoring again.
So, the next night, I decided to surprise him. I dressed up in a very sexy outfit for his eyes only. I had on fish nets, a garter, a black lace bra, a black mini skirt, the shirt I bought from the night before. and then topped off with a nice pair of heals with a thicker heal So, I kind of looked like a high end street walker....or a wife trying to spice things up. Even Scott seemed impressed with what I pulled together. Now, due to Scott and my back being bad yesterday, i didn't expect anything to happen....ok, maybe I was thinking something MIGHT happen.....I was just trying to get the response from him that i didn't get the night before. And trust me, I got it!! I even got some jumping up and down and screaming as well.
I have to say, that for the first time in years not only did I look and feel sexy, I looked and felt thin. To capture this moment, I asked that he take a couple of photos of me in my new sexy/slutty outfit. I was completely covered and planned to stay that way for every photo. Now, for the record, I wasn't planning on posting them on Facebook or anything....it was more just just him and I.. Then it happened. That moment I KNEW to expect. Everything was going well so there was no reason for me to think anything could ruin it On the contrary, I should have thought, "What is going to go wrong since things had been so well?" Yes, becasue if I had thought like that, the next thing that happened would haven't come as such a shock to me.
As my husband was doing something (I honestly don't remember why he was even near me) somehow, he last two toes found their way under the heal of my shoe (remember they are a thicker heals) just as I put all my weight down on that foot. The screech I heard coming from him was that of a small animal getting hurt by a human. As he jumped out of the bedroom to the living room on his one good foot, curse words escaping his mouth at every jump, I could tell he was in horrible pain. The more I looked at the swollen, bruised toe on his foot, the more obvious it became to me that I was not made to be sexy. i was not made to be accident free. I was definitely made not to seduce.
So, my sexy evening did end up with us both of us in bed alright...just not the way i planned. He was laying there with his leg elevated and with ice on it as I (now im sweatpants and a tee) lied next to him saying how sorry I was for breaking his toes . But at least we are now laughing at the craziness of the evening. You see, my husband and I always seem to hurt one another whenever we are trying to do soemthing fun and exciting. I have dislocated his shoulder numerous times while we played wrestled, I have broken nails playing around, and even once gave myself a concussion while attempting to be sexy for him. So, funny sexy mess ups are normal for us. Apparently we can't have seduction in our lives without having a little pain...or at least an attempt of the seduction. I am not surprised one of us hasn't ended up in the hospital yet (Ive come close....the time of the concussion) . I think the only reason is that we don't want to explain the ER doc that the reason we're there is because I'm a accident waiting to happen and when you throw trying to be sexy in the mix,,,,,it's a lethal combination. LOL
So, with all that.....are we the only couple that attempts to kill each other as we try to get frisky or do you have the same issues? I would love to hear your funny, painful stories...if you can remember them after the bang to the head!!! Sp [;ease comment and let me know Scott and and I are not alone!!!!!
NOTE ABOUT PHOTOS.....I AM SO SORRY ABOUT HOW DIRTY THE MIRROR IS. IT'S THE FIRST THING TO BE CLEANED WHEN I"M DONE HERE!!!!!!!!!
The Red Out (translation boobs covered shot of me)
Just my face without three chins!!'
The Killer Shoes
Today's post isn't about weight loss. It's about me and my husband learning to adjust to living with cats. First, you have to understand that neither he nor I are cat people. Please, let me explain. In 1997. after graduating from college, I got a dog. Bear (I didn't name him), was black lab, boarder collie mix. He was full of life and the most loving animal I have ever known. I found Bear in a local paper and when I left to go look at him, my mother's last words to me were, "DO NOT bring him home if he's nothing but a ball of energy!". So, I set off to take a look at this dog that I more than likely wouldn't bring home. All I knew was he was between three and four years old and he was a black lab mix.
Once I got to the home, this big bouncing ball of fur pounced out the door and on to me. All he wanted was to to be played with and loved on. There was something about him that told me I couldn't leave him there. So, after assuring the owner he was in good hands and giving my vet. references, I said the magic words, " Wanna go bye-bye?" That was it. He took off towards my car in a full stride. By the time I caught I up to him, I could see him sitting by the car door, tail wagging, and what to me looked like a smile on his face. To be honest, I felt really bad for the owner, who was in tears. I could tell she loved this dog. The only other thing I knew was that she was going through a tough divorce and that she could not have Bear in her new place. So, with another jump, he was in my back seat and we were off to my house.
Once home, many things became obvious. The first was that he had not come from a loving and caring home. I believe the woman did love and try to care for him, but he was scared to death of men. My father would try to play with him and he would whimper and hide. The same thing would happen if my father or anyone would try to throw food to him. Other than these signs, he was a loving, caring, empathetic creature who seemed to be very happy to be in his new home.
Over the years, Bear and I moved on. He watched me go on many dates and never seemed to give any of the men the time of day. If I would have a date over, Bear would stay near me, but he would never engage anyone. That is until my husband. On our first date, we ended back at my place to play Trivia Pursuit. I later found this was a test of my intelligence....thank goodness I passed. It was when Scott sat down that the strangest thing happened. Bear, jumped up on the couch and placed his head in Scott's lap. It was as thought Bear was trying to tell me to give this one a chance. To be honest, I am not sure if it wasn't for Bear if I would have even thought about going out with him again. I guess there are just somethings dogs know that we don't.
That brings me to 10 years later. Scott and I are living together and I am an hour away visiting my parents when I receive a text message. It's a photo of Scott holding this tiny orange kitten. Now, i wasn't too shocked as even though we are no cat people, we are humane. This kitten had been outside in the cold for awhile. We had been feeding it and even gave it a safe, warm place to sleep. Apparently, that wasn't good enough. While my husband was getting firewood, this kitten decided to walk right inside, past the dog, and jump up on the couch and take a nap. Despite my attempts to find a home for him, he seemed to nudge his way in our lives and hearts. It took a little longer for Bear to be as open with him but once they learned to live together, things were fine.
Then, a year later, my husband and I are watching T.V. when we hear what sounds like a baby screaming. Because at the time, we lived in a not so nice place, we allowed the sound to go on for a few minutes. When we knew it wasn't going to stop, it dawned on us that it wasn't a child but a kitten making this heart wrenching noise. Sure enough, when we opened out front door, we found a kitten, around four to five weeks old. It had been thrown down the steps to our door. In the process, it had broken it's leg, busted three teeth, and peed itself. Needless to say, we couldn't allow it to suffer. So, as i went to get food for the little thing, my husband (a trained EMT), reset the kitten's leg and wrapped it. Bear became very protective of Bandit (the new cat) from the moment she came in our house. I think he knew she was abused and he remembered what that was like. Bear refused to leave her side and though he was too old to jump up on the bed to lay next to her, he did stand guard next to the bed. Every time she would jump down to use the bathroom or explore, Bear was right there to watch out for her.
Then a year later, when Bear was 19 1/2, yes you read that right, he passed away from a brain tumor. When we brought home his ashes, Bandit curled up next to him and refused to leave his side. She became his protector and it was obvious she missed him. This was the most heart wrenching and loving thing I have ever seen.
Now, all that was to tell you this. Though my husband and I are not cat people, these two cats really did help us through the loss of our dear friend, Bear. However, it is times like this morning where I wonder if maybe we should have tried a little harder to find another home for them. Let me explain.
It's 3am. My husband and I are all cozy asleep in bed when Hunter (the orange cat) decided he wants to walk on us and kneed us. In my half awake state, I move him down towards my feet and begin to fall back asleep. I can feel him walking on the bed again, but since I'm almost back in REM state, I don't really care. Then I hear it. The blood curdling screams from the man I love. Apparently, Hunter, decided to use my husband's chest as a scratching post. Trust me, it's bad enough to be scratched by a cat but it's even worse when you're dead asleep and get woken up by razor sharp nails digging into your chest and face. The words I hear coming from the half asleep man next me are too risque to type here, but I am sure you can all get an idea of what he said. So, as my husband gets out of bed to care for the gashes in his chest and face, I have to smile. Not becasue my husband was hurt, but becasue I know that with out these two animals in our lives, I am not sure how we could have ever handled Bear passing away as well as we did. It's funny, we thought we were saving them, but in reality, they saved us......now if I could just get them to behave more like dogs we'd all be happier and my husband would be less scared.
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.
* Warning* This is a comical view of weight loss with the sleeve. Please understand that I say many things just for the laugh or shock value. I do not need you to tell me to not "do it" or "do this". I appreciate your caring, but please know that I am a strong person and I wouldn't do a lot of the crazy things I say I want to....notice I didn't say ALL. Enjoy the blog and have a good laugh. I know I enjoy writing them* Warning done.
Today is my one mouth anniversary. I can't believe how much has changed since I walked in the hospital April 12, 2012. I would have never thought I would be eating regular food (but not much) , or drinking normal (without one ounce cups). If you would have told me in the hospital that I would be 40lbs smaller since my two week apt. before surgery, I would never have believed you. If you would have told me that I would be happy (for the most part) with the food I eat, I would have laughed at you. But, it's all true. I'm happy, healthy, and loosing a little every week.
I went for my follow up apt. today. First, you have to understand that my hormones have been CRAZY. One second I am yelling and screaming and thinking about throwing my husband out the window, then the next second, I am laughing, cuddling, and trying to use my husband as though he's a gigolo. You would think he would appreciate the second part, but as he told the doctor today, "I feel like a piece of meat." Well, doesn't' he understand, that's what I want??? LOL It's been forever. According the doctor, this is all normal. Apparently (for those of us who didn't know), we have hormones stored in our fat cells, and when we loose weight, the hormones burst into our blood stream. At least we can feel it coming on. I know when I am getting ready to loose it, I don't do anything to stop it. Is it because I know my husband will love me no matter what? Nope, It's really that I just don't care. Now, I don't want to sound like a witch. That's not it. It's just they come on so fast, the idea of trying to stop them or walking away doesn't seem as good as letting it all out. At least I say I am sorry...the doctor said I do this because I know he won't leave me....I'm not so sure about that. If he doesn't, he's the strongest man out there. I don't think I could live with me. Just think about the worst PMS you've ever had. Now times it by 1000. Yeap, that's what weight loss does to us. Our poor families.
Now, let me tell you about the sex talk at the doctor's office. I know that I can have sex after 1 month. I've known this for months. My husband had questions. Ones I wasn't expecting. So imagine this situation. It's me, my husband and the doctor.
Scott- Can we have sex?
Doctor- Yes, if you want to
Me- Oh, I want to. I can't keep my hands off him
Scott- It's true, it's like I'm a piece of meat
Doctor- Get used to it
Scott- I don't know how to ask this
Doctor- You can just say it
Me- Looking at my husband like 'what on earth are you getting ready to ask'
Scott- Ok, is there any way we can't do it? I mean, can we only do it regular?
Me- OH MY GOSH-----REALLY?
Doctor- You can do it any way you want as long as it doesn't hurt
Ok, here is where my inner male comes out. I had to laugh at this.
Me- No, we have a safe word for when that happens. (laughing) Actually we don't. It's not like we have whips and chains and things.
Doctor- (looks a little shocked...but can tell we're joking around) I think we're all done here. See you back in a month.
Now, to be honest, there was a little more to that conversation but I wanted you to have the funny stuff. When Scott asked about my emotions, she said to him and this is a quote, "Get used to it". He looked at her and said, "I'm not sure that's possible."
So, now were home and of course I've attempted to seduce him, right after I lost it in the restaurant because my food was gross (thanks a lot taste buds for changing on me). Of course the poor man doesn't know what to do so he turns me down and sits on the couch to play on the PlayStation. I swear, reading this, you would think we were 17 year olds. Maybe that's why my emotions are so crazy...I'm really 17. Gosh I hope not.
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
My husband works IT for Comcast. He loves his job and the thing I love is that he comes home with random swag. He's brought home new DVDs, shirts, coasters, even a "Rome" robe. The other day, he came home with a typical Comcast tee-shirt. It's nothing exciting...just another shirt. But then I looked at it. It looked REALLY small. According to the tag its' a large but I promise you, it looks more like a medium than any large I've ever seen. I tried it on and to my surprise, it's not that tight on me. That doesn't mean I would wear it out in public or even take a photo of myself in for the blog. What it does mean is that I now have a new non-scale goal to achieve.
It couldn't have come at a better time as I had already met my other non scale goals and now they were all too big on me. I'm not complaining at all but it is nice to have that one thing you strive for other than a number on a scale. Then, I read the shirt. It was more than just an Xfinity shirt...it had a message just for me...."The Future Of Awesome"!!! Isn't that just the perfect goal shirt? Then, to make it even more "awesome, I lightened my hair (a reward for meeting a goal). So, even though I am already awesome....it's nice to strive for something that makes me even more so!!!! Oh, and before I forget. I did meet a REALLY big non scale goal today. I was able to dry my sweatshirt and still have it fit. LOL It hasn't been dried since I've owned it and now it's all nice and soft and a little smaller but still baggy on me. Love that feeling!!!!
The Shirt
LOL
The New Hair
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
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.
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.
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.
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 a problem. It's not a big problem. Some may say it's not a problem at all. However, I feel as though I have begun to let this little thing begin to take control of my life and I do not like it. What pray tell am I talking about? Is it pills? Illegal drugs? Alcohol? The scale (again)? Nope, it's none of those things. It's the one ounce cups they gave me at the hospital. You know what I'm talking about. Those cute little plastic cups that are so clearly marked with 1/2 and 1 ounce for liquids. Yes, those are the ones. I can't seem to drink anything with out using them. I even keep a running total of the number of 1ounce cups I have consumed on a nearby piece of paper. I don't understand why I can't look at a glass or a cup and figure out how much I've had to drink. I know it's not that hard to do but for some reason, I have become reliant on my little one ounce cups. I've even included a photo of my obsession.
I don't need them when I am out and about. I can look at a 20 ounce bottle and figure out how much I've had from it. Same thing with my 14ounce Lean Shakes. But for some reason, when I come home and put my liquids in a regular glass or cup, I lose all ability to do simple math and I NEED my handy little cup. My husband is getting sick of my little cup obsession. He has even asked when I will be done using them. I had to be honest and tell him that I wasn't sure. I need to be careful with what i say to him or he's likely to go hid my little cups with my scale and only allow me to use them once every week. Actually, that may be a good thing. For the record, I felt very thin this morning but was unable to check my progress due to not knowing where my scale is. This is getting old VERY fast. LOL So, I have found my new crutch to hold on to for now. My little cups.
I have thought about why I need them only at home, and I think I've figured it out. I have to keep a food log for the first two months after surgery (this includes liquids). I am not sure how many of you have to do this as well, but for the record it's a pain in my ever shrinking butt. Before I eat or drink anything, I have to put down the start time, what it is, and then when I am done, I have to fill in out much I've had and the end time. I can't just go get my mush for dinner and sit down and enjoy it. I have to go through all this documenting and by the time I get to sit down and try to enjoy my mush, it's not hot anymore. All I want is hot mush. It's bad enough I am having mush to begin with, can't it at least be mush to my liking?
I am sure you are all aware that mush isn't that good anyway so to have to take the extra few seconds to fill out this form which in turn makes it lukewarm, only adds to my hatred or my food log. I don't get much to eat, let me enjoy what I do get. Ok, my rant about my food log is done for now. I am sure it will come up in future blog posts.
So, back to my little cups. I know I have to give them up soon. I know there is no real need for me to hold on to them. I wonder if deep down I'm worried about taking in too much liquid even though I know my body will "let me know" if I do. Or it could be that I'm worried I won't get enough liquids in even though I know that's not possible with the amount I drink. So, I am going to make a pack. I am not going to use my cup after I finish with my current crystal lite drink. Just saying that has struck fear in my heart. My inner voice is even laughing me right now. "Come on Trish, you can do this. You drank just fine without these little cups before surgery and you can do it again. So, wish me luck and let me know if you are still using the little one ouncers as well. If so, maybe we can stop together. The good thing to remember is that relapse is part of recover. So if I slip up and use it again, I can just consider myself one step closer to recovering. *side note, I was a Drug and Alcohol counselor for years...not sure how good I was after reading my last few statements*
Anyway, here I go, drink is finished and the little cup is going bye-bye. I promised myself I wouldn't cry, but now I'm not so sure. As I place the cup in my recycle bin, I can feel the emotions welling up inside. The only thing that is helping me through this (and helping me not take it out of the trash) is the knowledge that I still have a whole stake of one ounce cups in the cabinet. You know, just in case I need them.
I have no idea why I think I can keep doing this to my body. Three weeks ago I had most of my stomach taken out and then today I had two teeth pulled (one on the left and one on the right). To be honest, I think the teeth pulling was worse than the sleeve. At least I got good drugs with the sleeve surgery. Also, I had better doctors who were nice and caring. This doctor was fast and rough and I only like that every once in a while (wink) but not in a doctor's office with a man I don't know. I figure if you voluntarily go into a place where people actually hold you down while another person does soemthing to you, you probably aren't going to enjoy it very much and if you do enjoy it, it's probably not something we should be talking about on here. Needless to say, my mouth hurts and both sides are swollen. The cold liquids feel good but the idea of trying to eat any type of pureed food right now isn't sounding to good. So, because I am not feeling very comical today I wanted to take this time to thank you all for reading my blog.
When I started this, I figured no one would really read it but it would give me an out to vent and talk about going through this in a funny way. It was therapy in a way. We all know that if our family members haven't been through it, they really don't understand what we're going through. That's not to say they don't try, but unless you go through it all, you can't understand the ups and downs of our emotions and our scales. That is if you even have a scale. I'm still a little ticked my husband hid mine from me. LOL
So, thank you. Thank you all for taking the time and reading my crazy rants. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. Thank you to all the people who leave me comments. I really look forward to reading what you have to say and I love knowing that I can make your day a little better with my words. As long as I can make someone laugh, then I've done my job. So, I will keep writing if you keep reading. Let me know if there is anything that bothers you while going through this and maybe I can write about going through the same thing.
Now with all that mushy stuff out of the way, I am going to go ice my face and hope that my body doesn't start turning against me. I have promised it that I won't take anything else out of it (that I know of). Hopefully that promise will keep it working for a little bit longer. But for now, I need to give it what it wants...REST!!! Tomorrow I promise to write something a little more comical and sleeve based....if my body lets me, who knows, my fingers may go on strike because of the teeth. I'll have to wait and see.
It amazes me how much my body has changed in only five weeks. Rolls are smaller, my side boobs are almost gone, and my stomach is semi flat (though still big). My legs are changing and shaping and my boobs are shrinking to the smallest they have been since college....when I used to think they were very large. If I have changed this much is such a short time, I can't even imagine what I will look like in a year. The idea of being around 150 pounds is still unreal to me. I know it's my goal and I am doing everything I need to in order to make my goal, but it still seems crazy to me to think I could ever bee that thin. I wasn't even that thin in high school.
Yesterday I took the plunge and tried on my bathing suit. I knew when I bought it two years ago that it was too small for me, but I didn't care. I shoved every inch of fat into it and enjoyed myself on the beach or in the pool. That won't be the case this year. First, it went right on with no wiggle-wiggle. You girls know what I mean. The moving your body and the garment in an attempt to get it up and over your ___________(fill in the blank). Nope, this time it slid right up. It fit perfectly and I looked good in it. Not model good, but good. I will no longer have to pretend that I feel comfortable at the beach, because now I will be. I was so excited that I came running out of the bedroom to tell my husband only to find him passed out on the couch taking a nap. So, I decided to jump into the car and drive the mile to my parent's home and show my new body to my mother. I was smart enough to throw some clothes on before running out the door. I think it would be a little strange to see a woman driving in her bathing suit this early in the summer. I do live near a beach, so it's not as uncommon as you may think. I literately walked into the house, said hello and stripped down to my bathing suit. Lucky for me my mother is very understanding and didn't demand me to stop stripping in her kitchen. Instead, she looked me up and down and told me how wonderful I look. Yea, I look wonderful in a bathing suit. LOL
Then to make my weekend even better, I tried on a pair of Old Navy sweats I bought prior to my surgery. They couldn't get over my but when I bought them but now, they fit just perfectly. I am really liking this weight loss thing that comes from getting a sleeve. I wish someone would have told me this would have been a side affect. I would have done it a long time ago. LOL Just kidding. The only side affect I didn't really know about was how good I would really feel and not just because the clothes fit. It's more just feeling better all around. Knowing I did something for me that is making me healthier every day. Now, if weight loss is a part of that, I'll take it. I will also take feeling good in a bathing suit (both kinds) because, that's something I haven't felt .... well, ever.
For those of you who do not read my blog all the time, I'm going to a quick catch up. I have chronic lower back pain with nerve damage the causes my legs to become numb and at times feel like electricity is running through them. There are days I can not walk with out assistance. Every day is bad but some are much worse than others. I have been dealing with this pain for around 18 years and for the record I am only 38. So, if your math is correct, I was 20 when all this started out of nowhere.
Now, I didn't tell you all that to get a pity party. I hate people feeling bad for me. I rarely feel bad for myself. I am telling you this to so you can understand my doctor story that I am getting ready to tell. Hope you enjoy it.
On Friday, I went for my mandatory (per federal law) doctor's apt. Due to the pain meds I'm on, I have to see him every three months or I can not get my meds. What the federal government doesn't understand is that pain has a mind of it's own. It can take over at any time and cause me to to have to obey it's wishes of not moving much or I could end up face down on the floor after falling for trying to ignore Mr. Pain and do somethings that need to be done.
So, Thursday night, Mr. Pain showed himself. He made sleeping near impossible. He laughed at me when i told him to go away with the meds i had. He also thought it would be fun to allow me to sleep for thirty minutes but have to wake up becasue I was in so much pain in my dream I thought I was dieing. Oh Mr. Pain, I really do love you. You have become such a fixture in my life that I am not sure what life would be like without you. However, I would do almost anything to find out.
On Friday morning, I called the doctor's office to see if I could reschedule the apt. I had already rescheduled from Thursday due to financial reason but I had called them two weeks prior so I really didn't think it would be an issue. That's when I heard the secretary say, "I see you already changed your apt. Becasue of that, you will have to get permission from the doctor's nurse to reschedule. She will call you asap." I'm sorry, did you just say I needed to get "Permission"? I am grown adult not a five year old child asking for a cookie!! Becasue Mr. Pain was having a party in my back and legs and almost my whole body by this point I wasn't even going to argue with the secretary. So, i waited. Sure enough she called me and told me she couldn't "allow me to do that" WHAT?? Again, becasue of Mr. Pain doing the Congo Line now, I begged. I live an hour and a half away. I was going on at most 2 hours of sleep. She again said she couldn't. Next week is a holiday and they were already double booked all week. I explained I would come in at any day or time she gave me but again, I HAD to come in today or I would not get my meds next month. I began sobbing on the phone. Not from pain (though I am sure Mr. Pain did have a little say in the amount of tears I shed) but from the frustration, lack of sleep, and the thought of having to drive that distance. Through my sobs I told her I would be there.
My husband who had been up all night with me offered to drive me up there. But I couldn't ask him to do that to himself. He needed rest too. So, I thanked him, got dressed and hobbled out the door. I screamed as I climbed in to the truck and forced back the tears that were attempting to ruin any makeup I managed to get on my eyes. So, I turned on the music, and tried to focus on anything other than Mr. Pain doing the maranga in my back now with all his friends.
Once at the doctor's office, I was taken to the room very quickly and seen just as fast. I guess the tears kind of worked. I explained that my extended release medication did not work for the whole 12 hours and that becasue it only worked for 8 , I asked if I could take it three times a day. He didn't feel comfortable doing that so he decided to up my extended release. He also wanted me to take an X-ray to see if there had been any changes since I had some flare ups in the past three months. He was very concerned that I had fractured it. Great!!! That would just be the icing on the cake. Mr. Pain would be so happy to finally have cake for all his pain buddies. That meant he would be wired and able to stay going for days at a time!!!
So, X-Ray is completed and I am waiting for the doctor to come in the room. Once he walks in, the first words out of his mouth are, "Oh my. Oh my, Trish. This is not good at all." My response, "Doctor M. That exactly what every patient wants to hear come out of their doctor's mouth after an X-Ray." He then brings it up on the computer. Now, so you know, over the years I have become very good at reading back X-rays and back MRIs. I have had so many of them done and I pay attention to what the doctors tell me. So, he asks me if I can see L5S1 (the last lumbar disc in you back). NOPE...WHERE IS IT? The whole thing is going. My back is now bone on bone and rubbing together and chipping away every time i walk or move. He then proceeds to tell me, "Your pain is definitely real. You must be able to deal with a lot of pain if you're able to deal with this." I then explained that I have been feeling the bones rub together for some time now.....and I told him this for the past year!!!!!! But I'm not a doctor so hey, what do I know? He then tells me to go to U of Penn Hospital and get a Neuro and Orthro opinion on surgery and other treatment options. However, his eyes said it all.......there wasn't anything they could do but hey, at least I looked into it. He then gives me a script for my new meds, and one for one Valium. That is for the MRI he wants me to get...a closed one!!!! I think I can handle it, but becasue of my history with these machines, he kind of wanted to knock me out! LOL
So, Mr. Pain now has the doctor's attention. He's had mine for years. He is still having that party in my back today. I knew he would be due to the drive up there yesterday. Hopefully becasue Mr. Pain has been on a three day Rager, he will be so exhausted he will go hibernate for a little bit so i can get some relief. Now, i know Mr. Pain well enough to know that even if he leaves, he will still keep his foot in the door so i know he's never fully leaving. Trust me, I will feel his night terrors on my back and legs...my my pain won't be as bad. So, Mr. Pain, I am glad you've had a good few days but it's time for you and your buddies to go home so we can all get some rest and I can maybe not go insane from the lack of sleep and the horrible pain that medicine is barely touching. I would really appreciate it. Maybe, next time you show up I'll let you do your rendition of "Stomp the musical" with out me taking any medicine to slow you down...but only if you give me at least three days off from you. Mr. Pain, please babe....we need a little break and I promise, when we get back together you will have the time of your life!!!
