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.
I am not going to make any comments....though I have a few. Just a little back story. This was taken in my home town, by me. I was at the bank and looked over and saw it. couldn't believe my eyes. What are your thoughts? Am I the only one that thinks there is something REALLY wrong with this?
same photo....in case you can't see the smaller one:
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.
I can't believe he did it. My husband actually hid my scale. What am I going to do? Does he not know I NEED that scale daily? I know I read the last post to him, but I didn't really think he would take it away and hide it. I noticed as I was peeing. I looked down and where the pretty digital scale used to sit, there was nothing but an empty floor. Flooring can't tell me how much I way. Doesn't he know this?
When I finished, I came out and sat down and had a little talk with my dear husband. he told me he would bring it out once a week for weigh ins. My response (and this is no lie), "What if you bring it out on my 'fat' day"? Then what?" With out missing a beat, he said, "Then I guess I will have to change days." Sometimes I hate him for being so fast on his feet. So, for now I am going through withdraw. Wish me luck. I know I can make it through this, but I also know how hard it's going to be. Anyone out there want to do the once a week weigh in with me? That may help knowing that other people have to wait for their weight too. Let me know and we can go through this together. I still can't believe he did it though. LOL
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.
Two days ago I posted about my pretty light blue Shake Weight. I wanted to share a photo of that with you so you can how I could be drawn to the pretty color and the shinny ends. Yes, I still use it whenever I get a chance and i do like it. It's very addictive. Hope you enoy my new toy as much as I do..even though you aren't able to play with it. Sorry about that. I'd share if you were here.
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.
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.
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!!!
This post is for women...or men who have to deal with us after our sleeve. If you are neither, you have been warned!! I am going to discuss that wonderful experience almost all of us have once a month. No, it's not a full moon (but it is said to be linked), This post is all about the PERIOD. No, not the kind that kids no longer know should be at the end of a sentence (thank you text messaging for that), but the nasty, crampy, bloaty, mood changing one. This is one of those VERY HONEST posts that may make some uncomfortable...if you are one of those people, you should leave now!!!
Ok, for all those of you that I stayed with me........
I have never had bad periods. I PMSed very little and only very rarely had cramps. I knew I was lucky and I had no desire to be one of the many women out there that literately curl up in a ball for a week due to the pain and discomfort. I liked my period (as much as any women can like it). Then, I had this surgery.
The day after surgery (while still in the hospital), I started. It came out of nowhere and I was so relieved to hear that many women do experience this. It was much heavier than normal and I was very crampy. I just chalked it all up to having "trauma" AKA the WLS. So, when I came home and it finished I never really thought much about it. That is until around 28 days later. For about three days before I started again, I became a Bi$%h to deal with. I would yell at my husband for any little thing. Even if it wasn't something that normally would upset me. I cried at the drop of a hat. Commercials could bring tears to my eyes and have me sobbing in seconds. Remember the Christmas Folgers Coffee one from years ago? The one when the college or military man comes home? That caused me to tear up when I saw it the first time. Now, it would send me into a sobbing fit. But again, I found an explanation. I chalked it up to all the hormones running around in my system. Then when it started I was back to normal except for the cramps and the way it looked. Don't worry, I won't get too specific. My issue was that it wasn't the same for me at all. It lasted longer, it was heavy, and then sometimes there wasn't any real blood. It was more like the end of a period than the beginning or the middle.
I tell you all this to now tell you how it is NOW. Three days ago, I cried for hours. I wanted to kill my husband and I must have given the, "I can't stand you" look to him no less than 100 times that day. I didn't know why or where these feelings came from and to be honest, I didn't really care. I just wanted to get all those feelings I was having out. Even if it meant verbally attacking the man I love. And that my friends is EXACTLY what I did. The poor man didn't know what hit him. To be honest, I am not sure if he even knows now. I was a crazy, hormone filled, sobbing, runny nose, monster and he was the person I was sent here to attack. And attack I did. Nothing was good enough. He could look at me and get yelled at. He could say, "I love you." and I would sneer and roll my eyes. I was everything I promised myself never to be. I was the woman all men hate....I was THAT woman.
Then, the next day the sky was blue, the clouds were puffy and white, the temp was perfect and I started my period. It was like the "opening of the gate" stabilized me. i was back to myself and not the angry, crazy witch I had been only a day before. Now, so you know, this has happened for the past five months since my surgery and all I can think is, WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?????
I truly feel that every month I become possessed. I can't stop myself from saying things or looking at people with despise. I even started freaking out at some kids (in their late teens early 20's) for not stopping to cross the road and almost hitting my SUV. I couldn't just roll my eyes and keep driving. Nope, I had to scream and go off on five boys that were just being that age. I can't control myself and I can't keep the thoughts in my head with out having to cry for hours or scream at unknowing people for no reason. Another example. I went to McD's to get my husband some food. The girl at the window was very rude and I ignored it...that is until I said, "Thank you" and she responded with rolling her eyes and smacking her lips. Then it was on. I proceeded to tell her she could go to a very warm place that doesn't have sand or surf. I also told her that customer service means being nice to people and if she couldn't do it, she should find a new job. Then I drove away, crying, and so angry I wanted to hit something. Now, this is not me!!!! This is the woman that takes over once a month and does her own thing. I can't stop her. I've tried. I have the inner talk with her. I've kept her mouth shut only to have her use a crow bar to open it. I have done everything I know how to do (as a therapist) to not be this mean person and still, NOTHING is working.
So, here's my question for you all.....Do any of you have this issue or anything like it? Are you a different person during your time of month since surgery? Let me know if I'm going crazy and need to see a doc or if this is normal. If it's not normal, be happy I've passed that time of the month *the PMSing" becasue if I hadn't, you might get a piece of the crazy, Bit@#'s mind....and trust me, you nor I would want that.
Ask anyone, I am not a numbers person. Math and science were not my strong points in school. Heck, I am not even sure they were a weak point with me. They seemed to be more nonexistent than anything. In high school, I fought to get a D in Chemistry and Geometry. I was good at Algebra, but most any other math based classes were able to strike fear in my heart with out even trying. My father never understood this as he was a math person. he could do almost any math problem in his head and within seconds. This only made my fear of math that much bigger. How could he make it so easy? Was I just an idiot who didn't get it? Would I ever get it? Did my IQ test lie? I must have scored much lower than the numbers said. Why else would I not be able to do what others considered simple math.
Then, when I was 26 years old, my now husband brought all those insecurities back on our first date. We were playing Trivia Pursuit and he got a geometry questions. I knew there was no way he would get the pie. I was feeling really good about my standing n the game when he asked for a pen and paper. "WHAT? You have got to be kidding me!!" He then rattled off the theory he needed to use and then proceed to plug int he numbers and draw designs I hadn't seen since high school. Needless to say, he got the answer right and won the pie piece. Right then, all my doubts came flooding back. Then jokingly I asked if he was some kind of a genus. He didn't want to answer but once pressed, he told me his IQ was 165. I just shook my head. How did I end up on a date with my father?
Now, I am not telling you this story in an attempt to say, "Look how smart my husband is!!!!! He's so cool. He can do math problems in his head." No, that is not my reason at all. I am telling you this in a feeble attempt to get you to understand that math and i have have a "hate, hate" relationship most of my life. With that said, I know I am still able to do simple math. But, after this surgery I am not sure if that statement is true anymore.
I joined Myfitnesspal.com yesterday. I logged in everything I ate and all the workouts I did. Every time I walked, I log it in with the amount of calories I burned. Now, it takes 3200 calories to make a pound. Which implies that if I burn more calories than I take in and it adds up to 3200 calories, I would lose a pound of fat. That to me makes sense. Well according to Myfitnespal.com, I burn/don't take in 1518 calories a day and have been doing this for the past eight days. I know this as I eat the same thing every day and work out around the same amount. With that being said, I should have lost a pound every other day (approximately) give or take a pound here and there. Now, if my math is right....and I will be the first to say that it may not be....I should have lost between 4-6 pounds in the last eight days. How may have I lost? NONE. ZIP. Absolutely nothing.
Now, I keep telling myself that I've been walking a lot, and I am sure I building muscle. But even knowing that, I think, doesn't muscle help burn more fat? So I am stuck back to the question, "Why isn't math working?" Is it because I am doing the math? Remember, math doesn't like me. So this could be it's attempt to get back at me after all the years I called it stupid. Maybe I hurt it's feelings and now it's out for revenge. I've even thought that maybe there are little math gremlins that stand on the scale with me (that I can't see over my belly) to make it does not change numbers. All I know is I don't like it. I don't like it one bit.
I know not to expect miracles. However, I did expect to lose weight once a week. I didn't care if it was a little or a lot. Even though I've read so many people say that there are times the scale just doesn't move, it still bothers me. When I run the numbers, it seems like I should have some downward movement. but I don't. Don't worry, I am not going to stop doing what I am doing. I will continue to follow my program and get in my protein and my liquids. Maybe I should give the math question to my father and husband and see what they come up with. Lord knows they are much better at the numbers thing than I am.
I will say this. If I don't see some movement (downward) in my scale soon....I am going to on math hunt. I promise that I will hunt down all those little gremlins and make them regret all the times they messed with me. Don't they know I'm sensitive right now? This is not the time for jokes when it comes to my weigh in. You will pay gremlins...you hear me? You will pay!!!
As always, this is a comic view of weight loss. Please enjoy the read and understand that it's here to make you laugh....and let me vent.
First, I hope you all had a wonderful Memorial Day weekend. There is nothing better than getting together with family and friends and enjoying the unofficial start of summer with the people you care about. That is exactly what I did. And, to make it even more special we celebrated my oldest niece graduating from High School. As we always do on Memorial day, we had a BBQ. The menu consisted of grilled Hotdogs, Hamburgers, corn on the cob, mac and cheese, bake beans and due to the celebration, cake and ice-cream. All yummy food and great conversation to go along with it.
Now, I remember eating a hamburger, a huge helping of mac and cheese, and two or three ears of corn. Sometimes I would even have a hot dog to top it off. Then about an hour latter, I would finish it with some type of desert. I was the garbage disposal of the family dinner. Nothing needed to go to waste as I would make sure it found a home in my tummy. I remember eating until I couldn't move. It was enjoyable. The food was so good and I loved sitting around with my family talking about old times and recent going-ons. So it was interesting for me to look at my plate this time around. I had a half of the smallest burger not the biggest one on the plate like last year. I broke an ear of corn and ate it with a little butter. I didn't eat three ears with tons of butter and still want some more because it was sooooo good. No, this time, I couldn't even finish the part of the ear I got. I put a spoon full of mac and cheese on my plate and ate one noodle of it. I looked at the food left on my plate and though I felt good about myself, I felt horrible that I took more than I could eat. This is something I need to work on. I shouldn't feel bad that I didn't inhale every last morsel on my plate. It doesn't make me a horrible person. No matter what I was told as a child, it's ok to not finish everything. It's because I finished everything that I am in the situation I am in now. So, I now make a vow. I will no longer feel bad for leaving food on a plate. In fact, I will take that as a win for me in my new and improved healthy life.
Then the biggest temptation happened. It was cake and ice cream time. I decided to have a very little bit. I was one of the last people to get my plate unlike years before where I would be the first in line and hope for a corner piece so I could have all that icing. Nope, this time I cut a VERY tiny piece of cake and I took not even a tablespoon on ice cream to go with it. Then a funny thing happened. I took my first tiny bite. It was good. It wasn't as good as I thought it would be considering it was the first really surgery thing I've had since two weeks before my surgery (so 8-9 weeks ago). I took a second tiny bite. I looked around at the people who had heaping bowls of cake and ice cream and didn't feel left out. I didn't want any more than what I had. In fact, I didn't even finish it. If you would have told me a year ago that I would not finish my cake, I would have told you that you were crazy. Oh how wrong I would have been. In fact, I am in such a different place now that I can honestly see where my problems with food were and what I did that caused me to get so overweight. Well, no more. I refuse to go back. I enjoy my trip down on the scale. I look in the mirror and I see the person I remember. At my heaviest, I would look in the mirror and not recognize myself. I never want to feel that way ago. So, from now on, Let Them Eat Cake. They can eat it up and enjoy it. I think I'll just sit back and watch and think about how the scale will thank me for not joining the crowd. Now, if it was carrot cake, I can't say I will be so strong. But, that's another blog post....and I am sure I will be tempted with it sometime soon. I can't wait to see what happens.
A year ago, I would look at people who are the size I am now and think, "Oh, what I would give to be that size!". I just knew I would be full of confidence and that my self esteem would be flying high again. But, now that I am where I was striving to be a year ago (not thin but no longer obese), I'm still not happy with my body. Is this becasue society has told us what is beautiful so many times that we start to believe it? Or, is it much more simpler than that. Is it just that I'm not happy with my body as a whole? Why am I minimizing my success in my head? I know I'm not sabotaging myself, but I also know that when I look in the mirror now, there are parts of my body that I dislike even more now that I've lost weight. Now, before everyone blows up at me, let me explain.
I am 110lbs smaller than I was a year ago and aroun90lbs smaller since surgery six months ago. I can look and feel my body and I KNOW it has made tons of positive changes. i also know that even though I mess up with my food intake some times, I have made huge strides in that area as well. For example, this time of year in the past I would have had bough four bags of candy just for my husband and I. To be honest, I ate 3 1/2 of those! Now, I've been very careful. If I do eat a mini bar, it's only one or two for the day and then no more for awhile. I've learned that apples and peanut butter can taste just as good as a Reese's Cup....well, not AS good....but close enough. Plus, the apple doesn't make me feel bad about eating it when I'm done. I also try to exercise when my back will allow. Another huge step.
As for my body changes, the pouch over my "lady parts" is so much smaller that when I'm using the bathroom, I marvel that I can see certain parts again. (Sorry if that's TMI). I can now see the numbers on the scale with out having to bend my body all cockeyed when I weigh myself. My arms feel like little girls arms to me when I fold them across my chest and the best part is the way I fit into the area under my husband's arm when he puts it around me. For the first time, his arm goes all around me and can even go down part of my arm. For the first time ever, i feel like I can be that comforted woman in the arms of the man she loves. But, with all the good comes the bad. My boobs continue to try to make their way to the floor. If they continue on their trip, they will be there in a few months and I can turn them into cleaning tools as I walk around the kitchen floor!!! Also, they are much smaller, and I have to admit, I REALLY miss them. (If you read my blog lots, you can see that I say this all the time...I have always had a close relationship to my boobs!!! LOL). The skin under my lady parts and between my thighs continues to look like a bull dog's jowls. My tummy is now wrinkled and I can fold areas of skin and fat over on it. My arms have wings and to really just shock me, I noticed today that my face skin is hanging a little too. I swear, I know it's Halloween, but I do not have any desire to look like a walking melting wax figure!!!!!
So, I did what I do and asked myself, "Which would you prefer? Who you were six months ago or who you are now?" No question, hands down, The PERSON I AM NOW!!!!. So what's the problem you may ask? It's simple. I've been overweight my whole life and I always thought that if I lost weight I would have a killer body. But, becasue of my age and the length of time I've been fat (not to mention the inability to exercise the way I would like), my body didn't get my brain's memo and can't just fall back into place.....right now, it can only "fall". Because of this, it adds some negative thoughts in my head about how I look. Now, I know only I and my husband can see my body....and I'm lucky that he loves it the way it is.....but every person I know wants that tight, chest up, butt up, tones arm look!! But for now, I will have to rely on Spanks and the right clothes to hide all these changes....and trust me, I don't mind one bit.
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.
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!!!
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
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
Today I have felt as though there is no bottom to my stomach. I have been so hungry that I think I could eat a whole pig if one was offered up. I am not sure where these hunger pains are coming from except that it's REALLY close to that time of the month.
Now, I have been very good at what I am eating. I have roasted chick peas that I munch on and some almonds. The problem with the almonds or any nut is that I could eat them until I got sick....lucky for me, I haven't. I need to learn to really focus on my hunger and figure out what my body is telling me. I will admit that I haven't really eaten much the last few days. I have had my three meals a day and made all my protein, but I had to force those meals down because I wasn't really hungry. Then BOOM, today my body and stomach do a 180 and now everything that can be consumed, I want to consume. Usually when I am like this (before surgery), I want ice cream, chocolate, bread, and salty foods. That isn't the case now. Now, I want healthy foods like nuts, apples, and peanut butter. I guess that's a good thing but I have to admit, I feel horrible for eating this much. Now, I don't fill up to the brim. I haven't slimmed, and to be honest, I am eating small "meals" every few hours but compared to what I was eating before surgery and after surgery, I feel like a hungry hippo chomping for those marbles.
I have read on here that there comes a time where people feel hungry constantly and eat more than they have been. I guess that is where I am now. I hope that tomorrow, I wake up and am no longer chasing those marbles. Also, maybe Aunt Flow will show up and put this wanting to eat thing to rest. I swear if it wasn't for Aunt Flow, I wouldn't have any worries but that lady is NO FUN and every time she comes around, I feel the hunger rearing it's ugly head. The hunger gets worse the closer she gets. Mother Nature and Eve sure weren't looking out for all the other women in the world when they decided to follow their own plans and not listen to anyone. Thanks a lot!!!
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
Today we are going to talk about the high price of gas. Not the kind you buy at the pump, but the kind we expel from our bodies. Don't pretend like you don't fart...we all do. And, if you've had WLS, you are probably like me and have more gas now than you have EVER had in your life. I am not sure if it's the extra vitamins, the fiber, or just the fact of the surgery, but my gas and bloating has increased 1000xs. If you don't believe me, you can ask my husband...and my chiropractor (more on that later).
Now, I grew up in a home where farts weren't something that were hidden. I mean we learned to have some respect about them. Don't do it in public, or in front of company, and if you can, leave the room before you release your gas out of respect to the others in the room. We also learned that it was something that EVERYONE does. Except my sister....but I still swear she's lying through her beautiful teeth. It's not something to be ashamed of, but you still shouldn't just let one rip in the middle of a restaurant or a store. Or even worse, be one of those people who does the silent by deadly ones and then acts like it's someone else's and complains about about the smell (yes, I'm talking about you, oh hubby of mine)
After surgery, we all learn the need to expel the gas in our bodies any way we can. It helps with the healing process and we're told it's a good thing. Also, after surgery, they don't really stink so no matter how loud or silent. That is no longer the case.
After almost eight months, I have learned that no matter what, I am now a fart machine. I can no longer hold then like I could before surgery. Hell, sometimes I don't even know they are looking for a way out until POOF....and there I stand or sit looking just as shocked as everyone else. I fart in public, even when I try so hard not to. I fart in my sleep. I fart in the morning, afternoon, and evening. And, to make it worse, I no longer have those no smell farts. Nope, now I have the ones that should be bottled and sold to the US military as a gas agent. It's worse than mustard gas. I know, I made some once...not on purpose. My cat peed outside the litter box and I thought the best way to deal with it was to pour bleach on it and then wipe it up. WRONG. My eyes began to burn, my throat became itchy and tight, I even became light headed. I literately had to leave and wait for about an hour before I could return to finish cleaning.......YES, that is now what I can produce off 10 oz of food a day at most. And since I know there is no way I am alone here, I decided to tell you a few funny stories.
1. The Best Alarm Clock Ever Made
The other night, my husband fell asleep on the couch. This is nothing new as he seems to think that the T.V. + couch =sleep. So, I continued to watch the movie that I had on. Around an hour and half after he dozed off, I felt it. The need to let some gas out. I knew I had been lucky all day and they had not been foul smelling so i figured that since he was asleep, I would not leave the room (which I do try to do since I had surgery). So, Poof....there it is. And within seconds, I smell it. It was the worst smelling fart of my life. It didn't just say hello and leave. No, it became an unwelcome guest and decided to stay and watch the show with me. Now, to make matters worse, my husbands head was closer to my backside than my front side. Our couches are in an L shape and I was leaning the other way. Therefore, this fart was a dead bulls-eye for my husbands face. "Stay asleep, Stay asleep" I kept thinking over and over. Then I saw it. The twitch of his nose, the squint of his eyes....the toss and turn....and BAM, he's awake. Now, I didn't say anything at first. But after about 2mins, he says, "I am so sorry i must have been really gassy in my sleep. It stunk so bad it woke me up from a dream!" Now, I have an out. Do I take it and tell him it's alright and it happens to all of us? NOPE. I fess up. His response, "Oh thank goodness, I was wondering when my farts became so deadly!!" Yes, that's right, I out farted a man and even he admitted that my fart was worse than ANY he had ever had. I hate to agree with him, but I think he's right.
2. The Chiropractor (the day after the alarm clock fart)
So, as you can imagine, I'm still gasy and they still smell horrible. But, i still went to my chiropractic appointment becasue to be honest, I needed a really good crack. Now, before I went back, the doctor, receptionist and I were chatting and I tell a story about when I let out a small toot in my old chiropractor's office (no smell) and how embarrassed I was. I must have said I'm sorry a million times. We all got a good laugh and when I was called back, I told myself that no matter what, i was not allowed to let gas out any hole...no matter what!!! So, we do the adjustment and she goes to put these blocks under my thighs (they help alignment) and right then, poooooffff. It was silent and that scared me to death. So, i knew I had to fess up. I mean come on, if it was even half of what the one yesterday was like then they wouldn't be able to use that room for days. So, I told her. I turned red. I told her about waking up my husband and that if it stinks, I am SOOOOOO Sorry. She laughed and finished up with me and even thanked me for my honestly. Apparently most people don't even say anything.....like she won't know it was them. LOL. Well, I thought I was off the hook. i thought for sure it was odorless. So as I was grabbing my keys and phone, I hear my doctor say this, "So-and-So, can you please go spray down that room once Trish leaves?" i am not sure how I managed to make it out of there with any dignity. Lucky for me I have a very good doctor with a wonderful sense of humor. That is the only reason I'm not looking for a new doc to crack my back now.
So, I have finally given in to the fact that I am a gassy woman. No matter how hard I try, i can no longer be lady like all the time. I know I can't be the only one of us out there with stories like this....so what's your most embarrassing gas story since surgery? I would love to know...or else I'm just going to feel like an all alone fart queen. And, that's one title NO woman wants.....EVER!!!!
Growing up in the mid Atlantic, I've learned to accept nor-easterns and hurricanes. I've dealt with them my whole life. I even remember helping my father tape up the windows so if they busted out, they wouldn't shatter. Delaware doesn't get a lot of news coverage, but when we make the NY Times, you know we're getting slammed. The arrow is very close to exactly where I live and have lived most of my life. In 1996, I was in N.C for Hugo (I think that's what it was named) and being like any college student, I spent the evening running around in the rain with no care about the lightening or the 100+ year oak trees on campus. I am sure the beer and other drinks didn't help me make good decisions but to be honest, I had a BLAST that night and wouldn't change a thing about it. Looking back, I can't believe I made it home alive that night. The crazy things we do when we are younger!!!!
However, none of my experiences could have prepared me for "Sandy". She's more exciting than Olivia Newton John at the end of Geese. The only difference, is this Sandy isn't moving as fast and it appears to be affecting more than only a few high school students. 800 miles wide!!! Moving around 17 miles an hour!!! Winds going from 25MPH up to 80+ by the end of it all. To put it in lay man's terms...this B*^@ch is CRAZY!!!!! She's pissed and she doesn't care who gets in her way. She's worse than any woman who's ever PMSed and far surpasses any woman, after WLS who's PMSing. I mean we can be really bad, but Sandy takes that and laughs at it. She's all hormonal. She had more hormones running through her system than any "person" should....and trust me, I don't like being directly in her path!!
So, for now, I sit and wait. We still have over 12 hours before she makes land fall and already our streets are filled with water. I have to admit, I ma very happy I live on the third floor right now. My only concern is this.....if (and I pray it's only an "IF") we lose power, what will I eat? Most of my protein comes from Lean Shakes and right now, I only have two left. I did cook some chicken breasts so that I can nibble on those if I need to. But the WORST part of this is cabin fever. All I want to do is eat. I know it's all in my head, but to be honest, that doesn't make it any easier. So far, I have ignored my cravings and done really well but I've only been locked in the house for a day....I don't know what will happen in a day or so. Then again, maybe I don't have much to worry about...since surgery, I haven't' really had much food in the house. That's something I'm starting to regret right about now....and so is my husband.
So, to all of you on the east coast of the U.S. who will be dealing with "Sandy". Stay safe!! Stay dry!!! And remember, nothing is more important than you and your family. My thoughts and prayers are with you all.
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.
****Disclaimer: As always, this is a comical view on everyday issues that happen to people (or at least me) who have had weight loss surgery. Please do not take this seriously. I just want you to enjoy it and hopefully finish with a smile on your face****
I know I am not supposed to weigh myself every day. But let's be realistic here. I'm fat. I've been fat most of my life. The scale has been the end all be all of weight loss or gain. It's hard to not get on it every morning with the hope that the numbers have gone down over night. It's not that I'm just watching what I eat and exercising. I had the majority of my stomach removed. I eat 400-600 calories a day (if that), and I exercise every day. Because of all this, I expect the scale to go down every day. But much to my amazement, it doesn't.
I've already written about how the numbers just don't add up. So, I am not going to address that again (even though I know my math isn't wrong!!). Now I am going to talk about our unrealistic goals when it comes to the scale. Or at least my unrealistic goals.
I am a reasonably intelligent person, who is of sound mind and body (most of the time). I know that stalls happen. I know that when you shock your body in the way that I did three weeks ago that my body will fight back. It's going to hold on to as much fat and water as it can as it thinks I'm starving it. I also know that I am gaining muscle which is leaner than fat. Notice how I didn't say that muscle weight more than fat? That because 1 pound equals one pound, no matter what the pound is of. One pound of fat is equal to one pound of feathers. So, for all the people who say this, please be aware that what you are saying is wrong. And, it really irks me. Not that you should care if it bothers me or not. It's not like you're ever going to meet me. But, even with all this knowledge, I still wake up every morning, pee, strip my clothes, exhale, and get on the scale. Isn't it funny how we've learned over the years to do all these little things in an attempt to have the scale read a lower number? And, since three days after surgery, the number on the scale hasn't changed. It's even gone up a pound or two at times. And to be honest, this has caused me more stress than the surgery has caused my body. I don't know how to handle the lack of movement. It's like I'm at a dance and everyone around me is moving and grooving and I am just standing there. I'm not even tapping my foot. It just doesn't make sense and I should be thrown off the dance floor.
This has caused me to have some unreasonable thoughts. Am I one of those people that surgery doesn't work for? If so, I'm going to be pissed. Now, not only will I not lose weight, I still can't eat food I like. That would just be a cruel, cruel joke. What did I do to ever deserve this? Am I just doing something really wrong? I am not sure how that's possible as I get my protein in and I do everything I've been taught in all my classes. I've even gone as far to think that maybe I am loosing too much weight that the scale can't understand what is going on so it stays on the same number just "because it can" . I know none of these thoughts make sense. I know I am a fool for thinking any of these but I just can't help it.
I am so obsessive about the number on the scale that I have begun to weigh myself throughout the day. Anytime I go into the bathroom, the thing is calling to me. It's like I'm dealing with a possessed electronic device and I've given into it with out any thought or use of any common sense. I swear I hear the voice from the "Exorcist" saying, "Come to me Tricia. Come stand on me. You know you want to. You can do. It only takes a second." Has the scale become my new obsession now that food can no longer be my anchor? And, if so, I have to admit that it's not making me feel as good as pizza, ice cream, or potato chips did. It actually makes me feel worse every time I use it. Then again, the food did the same thing but it took longer for me to feel bad about eating it. Now, I get the bad feelings but non of the reward (aka the good tasting food). So, after great thought and much consideration, I have decided that the scale is the devil. It is the down fall for so many of us. Even the ones who haven't had surgery. And with this knowledge, I've decided to take drastic measures to remove the temptation from my life.
So, I have thought about taking a sledge hammer to it. But there are two major issues with this approach. First, I don't own a sledge hammer and if I did, I am not sure I could life it. Aren't they really heavy? Second, after thinking about how much it cost and how much money I would just waste, I just can't do it. I can't waste money so "willie nillie". I don't' know about all of you, but I don't have loads of cash just hanging around. Because of that, I have to take care of the things I do own and there is no reason to damage something I know I will need again in the upcoming months. So, I plan to give it to my husband and have him hide it. That way, I won't waste the money that I don't have to waste nor will I end up in the hospital with my back going out from the weight of the sledgehammer that I don't own. This way, once a month I can pull it out and weigh myself.
No, my plan doesn't really "fix" my obsession. But it does take the thing that I'm obsessed with and remove it from my daily routine. I just hope I don't' turn into a "scale fend" and start ripping the house apart while screaming, "where is it? I know it's here somewhere? You don't understand, I need it. It's not bad for me. I promise to just use it this one time." But for some reason, i see this happening. Because, it doesn't matter what the addiction is, we all find ways to make it sound less bad for us.
So, I am going to head to the bathroom and pick up the scale and hand it over to my husband. I know he will be able to handle my craziness when I need my "fix". So, here I go, I am just going to march in there, pick it up and hand it to him. After I pee, strip my clothes off, and exhale just one more time. Come on, doesn't every one need that "last fix?"
I miss the 115lbs I've lost since April. Yes, you read that right. No, I'm not crazy. I just being honest....well, kind of honest.
For the record, I don't REALLY miss the weight. I just miss the extra padding and HEAT that it gave me. You see, I have always been what I considered "warm blooded". Apparently that isn't the case. Apparently, extra fat keeps you extra warm. This is not a good thing in those 100 degree, 90% humidity days but, during the winter months it really makes a difference. For the record, I have never been a fan of the cold. I grew up in a resort area and my idea of a perfect day is getting to the beach by 9am and not leaving until 5pm. I love the warmth of the sun on my skin and the sound of the waves hitting the shore line. I even love the fall. Warm days, crisp nights are wonderful. But, this cold, snowy weather.....it's just not for me.
In the past month, I have learned the art the layering clothes. To be honest, I am still having problems with this one. Not because I don't get the idea behind it, but because I have never liked having to "bulk" up more than I had too. I have also learned that my heater refuses to put out any heat despite the temperature I put it on. This can cause a girl to go insane when she's layered up and under two blankets while begging the cat (trust me, I wish it was a dog), to jump up on my lap just for the extra warmth while I drink ANOTHER cup of hot tea. As I sit here typing this, I have a heating pad on me, a cup of tea, and three layers up top, two layers on the bottom AND an blanket!!!
I have checked my vitamins. I have tried eating more. I have tried eating less. I have used heating pads. I have begged my husband to curl up next to me in bed just to use him for his body heat. I have done almost everything I can except turn the heater up AGAIN. I refuse. There are people who can handle the temperature being much lower than what mine is set at and they are much smaller. Therefore, I know it's possible to not be this cold all the time...or at least that is what I have been told. I am holding on to the belief that the rumors are true and one day I'll be warm when it's cold outside. One DAY!!!! Oh what a day that will be.
So, here's my question....as always, I have one.....AM I THE ONLY ONE? How are you all handling the changes in you bodies ability to regulate it's own heat?
