I had my 20th reunion last week and like many people going back to see people from H.S., I was scared. I got my nails and eyebrows done. I bought a new outfit. I felt great about myself up to the point that I walked out the door. What is wrong with me? It's been 20 years. I've changed....they have changed...but still, the fear I felt back in H.S. all came flooding back. Why is it that no matter how intelligent you are, you can still allow your feeling to take over any common sense you may have? I went from being a strong, independent woman to being a self conscience, pimple faced, teen who didn't feel as though I fit in anywhere.
For the record, most would have said I was popular. I would have said I was liked by people from all cliques. I always felt older than my age. I never understood the caddy, bit#$yness that many teenagers displayed. I didn't care if so-and-so flirted with whats-her-name's crush even though so-and-so KNEW how much whats-her-name liked him. I was always under the impression that if you teat people with respect, they will do the same for you. Now, with that being said, I still felt really fat and uncomfortable in my own skin. Mostly becasue every other girl in my class was a size 0 or a size 4 at the most. Here I was fighting to be in a 9-10 and I was HUGE.
Before my surgery I was looking back at photos of myself and I thought, "Damn, I was hot!!!" Too bad I didn't know that then. LOL Which of course brings us back to the reunion. After putting on my smile and trying to hide my fear, I began getting the most amazing comments. "You look just like you did in school." "Oh my gosh, you look GREAT!!!".....and so on. I was honest. I told them it was easy to lose weight that quickly when they take more than 1/2 you tummy. LOL. Then I saw her. The girl who was never really nice to me. She wasn't straight out mean, but we just never clicked. Then I heard the best words I could out of the mouth of a dear friend, " Did that girl have the same surgery you did? She had to have because look at all that skin on her arms and upper back. It's just HANGING there." I looked and by golly my friend was right! The person who used to make fun of me for being fat all through middle school and high school ended up gaining a lot of weight and she had to go through WLS. Now, I wasn't happy that she gained weight and couldn't get it off. I know what a struggle that is. What i was happy about was that she finally understood how I and a few others felt about her attacks in H.S. Karma really does exist.
So, the reunion ended up being amazing and I had a great time catching up with everyone. Now, I don't have a photo of that night...except for some face shots. But I will put those in with some face shots before surgery...and also some before clothed shots and then some photos from last night. I still can't believe the photos are of me. I walk by the mirror and wonder "who is that person" and when I figure out it me, I get really happy. I know WLS isn't easy....but I promise you it was the best decision I've ever made (except marrying my husband....no weight loss with ever measure up to him.)
Day of Surgery Size 26/28 top 24-26 pants
Night of Reunion
Last Night.....Size 18...shirt and pants!!!
As always, I have made my neighbors wonder how I ever got out of the mental institute. At least this time, I didn't flash some poor, unexpecting man my boobs...though he really did seem to enjoy that. No, today I did that thing that we all do sometimes when we are working out. I forgot I was in public. Not only was I in public, it was 7am and there were TONS of people out walking (their dogs or themselves).
Before I went on my 2mile walk (yes, two miles...thank you...thank you...thank you...you can hold your applause now LOL) I decided to add some old CDs that I had found to my phone so that I would have something different to listen to as I walked. Great idea right? This would help motivate me, get me moving a little faster, and help keep me walking more than I have been. Well, that's all true. EXCEPT one thing....I forgot how much I enjoyed some of these tunes. So, not only was I singing along as I walked (I tried to stop when I saw someone coming), I was also doing that upper body dance thing with my arms....you know the one right? It's when you start moving your arms and bobbing up and down?! But, that wasn't the worst part, the worst was when I decided to get my legs involved. Apparently, I didn't think putting one foot in front of the other was good enough. Nope, I thought it would be neat to do a little side step ever once and a while....as well as some some back and forth foot work. This wouldn't have been too bad except I got caught BIG time. Not just by the person in front in me walking their dog, but also by the man driving behind me. I have no idea how long either one was there. The BEST part of the whole thing was watching the man walking directly toward me get the look on his face as to say, "what is wrong with her" and ever so slowly cross the road for no other reason to get away from me. And yes, I made sure to say, "Hello" as I passed. I thought about stopping and petting the dog, but I didn't want to be sprayed with mace. LOL
After being caught twice in a matter of seconds, I decided that I should stop my dancing and focus on walking. That was all well and good until "Brown Eyed Girl" came on. Something took over and I was unable to control myself. The words came pouring out of my mouth and my arms and shoulders started going. That is until I noticed an older woman walking her dog and another man attempting to control his dog. It was barking and attempting to break away in an attempt to get to me...and it didn't appear that he wanted to give me lovings. Apparently dogs are not very fond of my singing ability. Damn, and I was planing on auditioning for the Voice next year....LOL.
Now that I am home, safe and sound. I have decided that going for my walk in the morning is not the best idea. I think I will leave the walking to the afternoon or evening when there are less people out there to scare. I mean come on, I've got to maintain some type of normalcy....or at least pretend to. Now excuse me as I go turn up Price and dance around the house like the Dancing Queen I (think) am.
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 many of you know, I have eaten the same thing for three weeks. Most of the time, it was the same thing two times a day for three weeks. Well, all that changed today. Today I made myself chicken salad. I put the chicken in the magic bullet and added some onions and celery (very finely chopped) and a little mayo. And, in case you were wondering, it tasted amazing!!!! Not as amazing as my husbands mashed sweet potatoes with cinnamon, nutmeg, all spice, and splenda. That was heaven. It was almost as good as carrot cake. Side bar* I love carrot cake. Actually, it's more than that. There is nothing better than a moist carrot cake with really good cream cheese icing. The way it melts in your mouth!!! YUMMY is all I can say. * side bar done. And, as you can tell, being almost as good as carrot cake is like wining the Kentucky Derby if carrot cake is the triple crown. So, today I enjoyed two very yummy things that were not bad for me and I felt full after eating them. My husband's mashed sweet potatoes not only took care of my starch craving, it also took care of my sweet craving. He seems to know just what I need and how to give it to me when I need it. Even when I have no idea.
I don't know how he knew what I needed. Maybe I was getting cranky again or maybe he tracks my cycle unbeknownst to me. But all I asked for was sweet potatoes and he somehow took them and made them so much more than I could have even thought about wanting. I know when I read this to him, he's going to be like a kid in a candy store hearing all this positive feedback, because the one thing he loves it to is cook. But what he loves even more than that is me liking what he cooks. So, Scott (my husband) just so you know, you are an amazing cook and you surprise me all the time with your ability to take something so "everyday" and turn it into a "vacation".
Now that all the mushy stuff is out of the way. No pun intended with the mashed potatoes. I did have one strange thing happen to me today while I was enjoying my new food. First, you have to know that after almost a month, I still can't really tell when I am full. I know it takes awhile to figure this out, but I have so many strange sounds and feelings, that I don't know which ones mean what. So, today I was eating my YUMMY chicken salad and I had eaten about 1.5ounces. I figured I could eat the other .5 ounces with out issue. I knew I was close to being full just due to the amount I ate not because of any magical feelings I had. So, I took my last bite and BAM...I felt like everything in my stomach (all 2.5 ounces of it) was going to make a reappearance right there on the table. I ran to the bathroom and experienced the spitting and salty mouth but nothing else. After about three minutes of spitting, I felt fine. Has this happened to anyone else? I was so shocked by it all. It was the first time my body has said, "Hey Trish, you ate WAY too much and I can't handle it." I wanted to scream back to my body, "Hey Body, NO, I really didn't. You just don't know how to handle more than 2.5 ounces of food. Maybe if you didn't allow a surgeon to take 2/3 of your stomach away, we wouldn't be having this issue." But then I remembered that I am the one who asked the doctor to do that...so I would lose that battle with my body within seconds. For the record, I don't like to lose....unless it's weight.
So, I learned two very important things today. Number one: I can only handle about an ounce of chicken salad at a time. Number Two. I will have to make sure I have sweet potatoes on hand at all times. Then again, if I don't maybe my wonderful husband will create another food miracle Humm, that's a tough one to decide. I really like the sweet potatoes, but maybe there is something better....just not as good as carrot cake.
I try to stay away from full frontal naked mirror shots of myself. I think this is something we learn to do as we get bigger and bigger. I can't tell you the last time I stood buck A@@ naked in front a mirror on purpose......then again, why else would I stand in front of one? But today, I did.
Back story to how this finally came to be. I was laying out at the pool today and I looked down at my legs and I thought, "Hummmm, is that just weight loss or is it skin? is it a little of both." I then tried to ignore it, but ended up in the water doing leg lifts and any other leg work out I could do to help "tighten" the area. So, after a 1/2 hour of trying to work the area, I decided to just relax and enjoy the sun and fun.
Now, anyone who knows me knows that once I get something in my head, I can't let it go. I do obsess sometimes....ok, most of the time....my husband is laughing and saying, "you mean ALLLLLL the time.". ANYWAY......lol So, I decided to pack up and come home. As soon as I came in, I took off my bathing suit and went to stand in front of the only full length mirror in our home. Remember, fat people don't like full length mirrors...they are the enemy. I haven't had a full length mirror in my home for over 10 years. The only reason I have one now is that it's the door to one of the closets in the house. As you can imagine, I didn't pick that door out.
At first I couldn't look at my whole body. I stayed focused on my boobs and up. I am used to seeing this section of my body before or after a shower so I knew what to expect. My chin is a normal one chin, my face had thinned out, my collar bone is beginning to show itself and my boobs are hanging a little low. SIDE BAR: Every time I look at my boobs (even before surgery) I sing this tune, "Do my boobs hang low? Do they wobble to and fro? Can I tie them in a knot? Can I tie them a Bow? Can I throw them over my shoulder like a continental solder? Do my boobs hang low." So far I haven't been able to make a knot or throw them anywhere except in a bra to push them up. Now you all know that song is stuck in your head right now....don't lie. LOL
Ok, so they looked the same. The boobs were hanging a little more and my "wings" are a little more wing like. I take a deep breath. I slowly allow my eyes to move down my naked body. The tummy area is looking smaller. There is some possible loose skin but only time will tell for sure about that. My hour glass figure is starting to show itself again (my husband is in heaven about that) and for where I should be right now after surgery, everything looks like it should. Now, I don't plan to run out and buy a bikini to show off my six pack abs. I may go by a six pack of beer to show off since I can't really drink it. LOL
Finally, I look to my my legs. Now, before I explain what I saw, you have to understand that prior to my back issues, I was always active. I was never"thin" but I was toned and tight. My legs were very muscular and I always hated how bulky they were. Then today as I forced myself to look at the area I was scared to death to face thigh to eye (a little word play LOL) , I realized I was no longer 25. I still have muscle but much less. Then I saw it or should I say THEM. The jowls. Right between my thighs in the upper part of my legs under my special lady place. They just hung there, all wrinkled up and looking like they should begin slobbering soon I was expecting to find the rest of the bull dog but thankfully that didn't happen. I was shocked. When did this happen? Was it before surgery and is now worse due to the weight loss? Then I looked at my thighs to my knees? Yeap, there is all is. It all made perfect sense. I have lost so much weight so quickly that my legs already need a lift and I'm just half way done with my weight loss. By the time I am ready to have any reconstructive plastic surgery, I will be tying things in bows and throwing them over my shoulder.
Then It all really hit me. Once I am done losing the weight, I will be thin but I will have the body of a ninety year old. How can I feel sexy wearing all that skin? I can see it now, "Honey, just throw that left boob over my right shoulder and then you separate the jowls between my legs to look for the "area"." Yeah, that's a real turn on. Lucky for me, I have a great husband and someday soon I will have a great plastic surgeon. My new song after I get my jowls removed and my stomach tucked and my breasts filled and lifted will be, "They don't hang low, or wobble to and fro, the surgeon cut em off becasue they were hanging to floor.......I'll have to work more on the song but you get the idea.
All of my life I have been bigger. With that said, I didn't really care becasue I was always in shape and very active. I played tennis is high school and swam every day. I would hike when I was able and I could slam the crap out of a racquetball ball. Then BAM!!!! That all changed 18 years ago. I was 20 years old, in college, and having the time of my life when my disc decided it didn't like the home it had and that it wanted to go explore the rest of my back. The first two years after this happened, I was still able to do some activities, but I had to be mindful of my back. Then, over time, it got worse and I did less and less until I could no longer fathom the idea of doing any activity. Truth is, when you deal with chronic pain on a daily basis, you get tired of it and you want to do anything you can to get it to stop. My anything was doing nothing.
Now, after my surgery I have been doing more than I have in years. I walk almost daily or do some other type of cardio. And even though I'm still in horrible pain, I figure it's worth it to be healthy. I am only 5 months out and I have lost over 100lbs from my highest weight and around 75 from my surgery day. Now, you can't lose that much weight that fast with out some repercussions. And trust me, I have some. If you have read my blog for awhile, you know that I have already commented about my boobs. For those of you who don't know, my boobs are the things I miss the most. Every time I look in the mirror when I'm naked, I sing, "Do your boobs hang low? Do they wobble to and fro? Can you tie them in a knot? Can you tie them in a bow? Can you throw them over your shoulder like a Continental soldier? Do your boobs hang low?" They seem to hang a little lower every day. I'm starting to think they are depressed. Maybe I should give them some antidepressants to perk them back up....do you think that would work? I wish!!!
I had just learned to accept my boobs then out of nowhere I noticed something today that totally caught me off guard. I have wings!!! You know the extra skin under your arm that just hangs there and flops back and forth. I thought I was doing well with not getting any of that. I have made sure that I have worked my arms (with my shake weight, and while walking) but apparently that hasn't been enough. I am 38 years old and I have the back, boobs and arms of an 80 year old. Then, to make it just a little worse, I can start to see the extra skin on my tummy. My oh my, I'm just going to be skinny...yes, the pun was intended. But seriously people....it sucks. We work so hard following the program, doing what we need to do, and fighting daily urges to not eat certain things and to keep active and yet some of us will still have these issues.
I guess I'll have to accept my new wings like I accepted my boobs. I can't do anything about it right now. The good thing is that now I won't have to pay those high prices for airfare. I can just hold out my arms on a windy day and "Fly like and eagle". Now, if only I can find something useful for my droopy boobs to do....that's going to take some thought.
Last Friday I went into my old place of work to see my old workers and co-workers. Despite the stress of the job, I have to admit, I really liked what I did and the people I worked with. Some of these people haven't seen me at all since my weight loss. Others have not seen me in a few months. So, it was interesting to see the looks on people's faces when I came in. Most would scream in delight to see me and then focus on my weight loss. I heard so many positive things that I felt like I should go up there once a month just to get the support. I was surprised that I didn't get any mean comments or people who were passive aggressive about it. To be honest, i really expected it with a few people.
The shock on everyone's face was so extreme that it made me start thinking, "was I really THAT big before?". Well, one of my old workers had a photo of me (a couple actually) from my wedding shower. I took a good look at them and I have to admit, I was HUGE. I am not sure why I thought I wasn't that big. I mean when it was taken I weighed around 290. But like I have said before in my blog, I never felt fat. I mean, I knew i was I just didn't let that run my life. I refused it to get me down. There were times it did, but at a whole, I was happy. Don't get me wrong, I would have been much happier if I was a size a 10 but we can't always get what we want (according to the Rolling Stones anyway).. But, even though I was happy with who I was, I knew I would be much happier if I wasn't on all the meds i was on for my medical issues. At my age, it really bothered me to have to so many pills daily. That's one big reason I had the surgery....and now I am off them off (except my pain meds) and much happier with myself.
Now, as I was driving home I started thinking. Why is it that no matter how content we are with our body (big or small), we always feel so much better about ourselves when we have people give us that double take look. Sure, it's better when it comes from the opposite sex, but even getting it from the same sex can put an extra bounce in your step. It sure did for me. Does that make me one of "those people". You know the kind. The ones that strive for the double take, especially from the opposite sex (or same sex if that's your thing). Am I turning into the girl that I've always made fun of/ You know the one. The one who always looks great. Who bats her eyelashes too much, shakes her but even when there is no music on, and always wheres a push up bra and a low cut shirt only to bend over in front of the person they want to get a reaction from? The more I thought about it, the more I was positively sure the answer was NO!!!!
Just for a laugh...hope you like it. Reminds me of Joey from "Friends"
Those girls don't have high self esteem and need to get reassurance from people who are only looking at their body. I am far from that woman. I am the woman who my whole life never felt like men found her attractive. I am the girl who was only asked out once in high school and to be honest, i am still not sure if that was a date or not. I am the girl who's self esteem through all that stayed very high (thanks to my wonderful parents) and I was able to see the difference between outer beauty and inner beauty. And, I didn't need someone to want me just to have a pretty girl on his arm. I wanted someone who wanted a pretty girl with brains and a sense of humor. It took me awhile to find that man, but when i did, i kept him close.
But, with all that said, I am human. I like to be admired. I like to be looked at in a way that says, "Damn she's hot!". I mean let's be honest. Who wouldn't? So, I will continue to bask in the glory of the double takes and smiles, the positive feedback, and the flirting that happens from men I've known for years. I will take it all in and then come home to a my husband and tell him how happy I am to have in in my life. A man who loves me for every part of me....big or small....crazy or sane....pensive or talking his ear off for hours....yes, that's the person for me. And as I have done for 11 years, i will always do a double take when he walks in the room and wonder, "Damn, how did I get so lucky?"
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.
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
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.
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 thought I covered what type of blog I was writing in my first one. But, apparently, not everyone reads all the entries. So, from now on I think I am going to have to do the following.
*******DISCLAIMER!!!!! What you are about to read is to be taken lightly. It's goal is to make you smile, laugh, and hopefully see the funny side of going through weight loss surgery. This blog is in no way my feeble attempt to get advice (unless I ask for it), or to be told what I am doing or saying is wrong. We are all different. We all heal differently. We all experience different things. With all this in mind, please enjoy my take on life after the sleeve. I hope it helps make your day just a little bit easier and happier. *********
Now that all that is out of the way. I feel the need to talk about the looks I've been getting from people when I tell them I've had weight loss surgery. I actually find the looks funny. For example. Today I went to GNC to see if I could find some type of protein drink that I can actually handle. When I went in, I got attacked by the vulture (aka the sales man). So, I proceed to explain to him that I had weight loss surgery and I was looking for a protein that I could handle (and that tasted good). It was interesting to see the look on his face when I said the surgery thing. It was only a split second or two, but it was obvious that he did not approve of my surgery. Not that I asked or wanted his approval. All I wanted him to do was help me find some protein I could handle. So, I ignored him and followed him around the store as he explained to me how, everything "tastes amazing". I know not to trust sales people, but really, EVERYTHING??? I highly doubt that. We are talking about protein and I have rarely met a protein that I found "yummy". So, after he promised me I would "love" this one brand, I decided to throw him off his game. I asked if he had samples or if they sold them per bottle. I refused to buy a whole thing of them only to get home and find out I didn't like it. So again, the sly fox of a salesman pulled this one on me, "No, we don't. However, I will give you this bottle if you PROMISE not to tell my manager. I really am not allowed to do this." I actually laughed at him as I saw the bottles behind the counter that they used for such an occasion.. Did he really think I was going to buy that line? Well, as shocking as it sounds, it really wasn't that bad. It's called GNC Total Lean, Lean Shake. It has 25g of protein, 2g of sugar, 3g of fiber (which I really need but more on that later), total fat 6g, and 170 calories. I had to taste it warm and I was able to stand it so I am sure once it's ice cold, it will be much better. As a whole, the unapproving, over zealous salesman did a good job. And, he gave me the first, "I don't agree with your decision" look since my surgery which I kind of enjoyed in a strange way.
Next I headed to Walgreens. I needed a fiber supplement and I needed one fast. Not to give TMI, but my first number 2 after 9 days and two things of Miralax, was more like the number 2 of a VERY LARGE rabbit. It wasn't fun passing, and as soon as I was done, I was ready to find a way for that not to happen again. After staring at all my options for a good 15mins, I finally gave up and went to talk to the pharmacist. I proceeded to tell her my issue and included that I had the gastric sleeve and because i was unable to get much food in, my fiber was almost non-existing. There is was again....that LOOK. She took a little longer to recover than the GNC guy (if she did at all). Even while she was telling me about what fiber would be my best option, she was unable to hide her disapproval of my decision. So it was right then, in Walgreens that I decided. Screw YOU....SCREW ALL OF YOU who think you have any idea what I have gone through, or why I decided to do this. No one asked for your approval or disapproval so don't give it. And, if you do give it, be prepared for me to tell you I don't really care what you think. I did this for me. I did it for my health. I did it for my medical reasons. No, it's not easy. No, I couldn't just eat less and exercise. I've tried that. It didn't work. So, keep your two cents and I promise I won't judge you on your attitude (which sucks) , your clothing (I don't care what the magazines say, you do not look good in overly tight jeans and five inch heals), your hair (1980 called and they want their puffy bangs back) , your makeup (yes, it looks good on models, but you are not a model and you you didn't have a professional do it) , your marriage (don't lie and say you have a perfect marriage, we all know your spouse is not "running errands", he/she is running around on you), your children (a rough patch is a few months or back-talking not years of getting arrested and being pregnant at 12) ....or any other decision you've made or thing you've had happen during your life. If you don't want to be judged, DO NOT JUDGE.
Now, before I get attacked for children/marriage/clothing/hair/attitude thing. I know there are always other issues at play. I was just using these as examples of things people do talk about and look down at others for. Funny thing is, people will not be as blunt with their feelings with those people as they are with me for having weight loss surgery. And my decision is one to help me and make me healthier. Doesn't something just sound wrong with that?
* 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.
****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?"
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.
Working out isn't easy when you have back issues. However, being in the water is a great way to get pain relief and to get some exercise in with out hurting myself even more. I live in a condo so the pool is shared by everyone in the neighborhood. Usually there aren't many people there which is great for me and my work outs but I still get some strange looks from the people who are there (including my husband).
Now, I can't just dive on in and swim. I mean I can, but I will pay for it the next day. I also can't do a lot of bending and flipping or a lot of ab work. So, what I do is walk. I walk back and forth in the shallow part of the pool. Now, this can get very boring. Also, there is only so much people watching someone can do. It get's a little strange when you are caught looking at the same person for the fifth time because you can't believe she's wearing THAT, or looking at someone's boyfriend for the sixth time becasue you are really looking at the clock over his head but she can't figure that out. Trust me honey, no one wants your man....he's not even half as attractive as you seem to think he is and by judging by what I see in his shorts, he's not that great in bed either.
Anyway.....maybe that was a little much....but I'm just telling it like it is. So, in order to keep my boredom down and to make sure I don't get myself in any trouble with the girl who shouldn't be wearing that bikini or have the guy's girlfriend jump in and drown me, I've begun walking back and forth while reading my book. Not only does it help me not look at the people around me, it allows me to walk back and forth and lose track of time. Yesterday I walked for an hour. AN HOUR of walking in the water!!! I was shocked. I didn't even notice I was getting my workout....and isn't that how it should be? Why can't every workout be this easy? I could have waked for another hour except I knew I would hate myself the next day. So, from now on, I plan to get my walk done in the pool, with my head down and my nose in a book. That way, I can still be alive after the workout and not have my neighbors hate me. I think it's a win win for everyone.
I started walking again today. It's funny how taking only a month off can totally change your ability. I went from feeling like a marathon runner (without the running part) to feeling like child learning how to walk for the first time. Why is my heart beating so fast and why am I sweating enough to quench the thirst of a small 3rd world country? I don't remember it being this bad when I first started after my surgery. That could be becasue I knew I couldn't do much then and now I feel like I should be able to do more than I was doing when I stopped walking. One cool thing that I noticed was that my shorts didn't do the "lets hide in the crotch" thing they do when you're overweight and walking. You know what I mean. It's when the front of your shorts ride up and bunch up near your crotch. Then you try to pull them down with out looking too obvious but deep down you know everyone can see you doing it. Then you start to walk again and BAM there they are right back up to your crotch. Yeah, that thing....well, it happened a little but not enough for me to have to stop and pull them down. 100lbs ago I would have had to pull them down every few steps...hence the reason I never worked out in shorts until now.
Needless to say, I got in 1.25 miles. Much less than I wanted but much more than my back was telling me I could do. My back is still bad, but I know if I keep it up my back will get used to it. It's just getting through what I call the "pain hump" That's the time during and after your workout (for about 2 weeks) where you feel like you're back is broken and you can't move an inch, let alone a mile. It's the time where mind over matter kicks in and sometimes matter wins. But, if you're lucky, you will fight through it and take charge. If you do, not only will you feel better physically, but also emotionally. This point was proven when I came home and started cleaning. I've been looking at the house for days thinking about how it needed to be cleaned but I always found something more important to do...like watch T.V. However, today I felt so good after my walk that I didn't want to just sit and do nothing....so, I cleaned. Now, not only do I feel good about myself, I feel good about my house too. LOL
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
Last Thursday I was supposed to start a water aerobics class. With that said, my feet haven't felt the warm water of the local Boys and Girls pool yet. Why you may ask? Is it becasue I'm lazy? Is it becasue i just don't want to? The answer to those questions is, "NO!!!". If I had the body of a "normal" 38 year old, I would have been in that pool kicking and jogging with the best of them. The problem is, I don't. I have a back like a 90 year old woman.
Now, before I really get started, this post is going to be a little bit of "OH, poor me" and "How unfair is this?" But, on the same note, I'm more venting than complaining....though they can sound very much the same. I need to say that I try really hard to be a positive person. I have been dealing with back pain that can make just getting out of bed feel like an Olympic event. But, I truly believe that ______ (fill in the higher being of your choice) doesn't give me more than I can handle. Even on days like today when I feel like there are three little men in my back doing construction and at the same time I feel as though I am giving birth out of my back. Yes, this is ON medication. People who don't deal with chronic pain can't understand the thought process that goes on when dealing with it. I'm a strong woman, and I fight through so much of the pain but believe it or not, the meds only help lessen it, not get rid of it. The scary thing is I know that one thing many people don't think about. I know the pain can get worse. Therefore, I have to be happy that I'm not at that point.
I think my frustration with my back pain comes from a few places. 1. The weather is changing. When the weather gets colder, the pain gets worse. Also, I had a pool only a block away that I cold go to and do whatever activities I could. Now, I have to drive someplace and be there at a certain time and hope my back is cooperating with me on that day. 2. I have been going up and down within five pounds for a month now. I know I've eaten things I shouldn't, but there have only been a handful of times I have gone over my allotted calories for the day and when I did, it was no more than 100 calories. So, the fact that I'm on a HUGE stall (I've been the same weight (give or take) for two months. It sucks becasue I see other people who are five to six months out and they have lost so much more than I have. I KNOW, I KNOW....everyone losses at different rates. That's all fine and good unless you're the one who's not losing.
Now that I've complained....wait, I mean vented. I will say that I've learned a few things in the past month and a half. First, Nutella is NOT MY FRIEND. I am not sure why I love it now. I hated before surgery. Second, I think I am one of those people who can not lose weight unless I'm active. This goes back to what my mother always said, "You were a thin child until you went to school and had to sit still all day." The issue with this is that I can't move much everyday. Even on the good days I have to fight tears and my negative thoughts to get through any activity.
So, with my new awareness, I plan to take one day at a time. I plan to not work out when my body won't let me. I plan to not eat Nutella...well at least not during the NON-PMS times. I plan to try to not get on the scale every day. That just makes me feel worse. And last but not not least, I plan to be happy with who I am. I am a size 16/18 and I haven't been that size since H.S. I should be so happy that I'm bouncing off the walls. Of course, that may just hurt my back a little more....so, I think I'll stick to doing what I'm doing and only doing what I can. That's all we can do. I remember after surgery thinking that walking a mile would be an unattainable task. Now, on a good day, I can walk three. That's what keeps me going. Knowing that my body, no matter how broken it is, can still persevere. Now, if only it will persevere and lose another fifty pounds all would be good.
* As Always, this is a comical view of weight loss surgery. I hope it makes you smile and if you're lucky, maybe even laugh.* For the full disclaimer, please read yesterday's blog post. **
It' been a little over two weeks and I have been following the plan. I get my protein and liquids in. I exercise almost every day. For the most part I think I am doing well. I have even managed to make it through the crazy mood swings which if you would have asked me a week ago I would have told you they would have been the cause of my marriage falling apart. I should have known things were going too well.
Last night around 9pm, I was starving. I have noticed the past couple of days I have been hungry around this time but I have just tried to focus on my liquids to fill me up. Well, last night I had to go to Walmart to pick up a few things. I figured getting out and doing something would help me stop wanting food. I also thought that maybe while I was there, I could find something soft that was high in protein that I could have as a snack. I couldn't have been more wrong.
My husband came with me because he too wanted something to snack on. Of course his snacks can range from potato chips, ice cream, little Debbie cakes, or anything else he he is in the mood for. Mind you, earlier he had pizza for dinner while I had my 2oz of tuna and my 2oz of lima beans. The smell of the pizza made me want to run across the room, jump on top of him and rip the slice of pepperoni pizza out of his hands. I didn't do this, but I did visualize it many times while taking my little bites of tuna and lima beans. And, no matter how hard I tried, the tuna never magically began to taste like pizza.
For the record, I am a strong woman. I can handle walking through the chip and candy aisle in the store. I can handle buying my husband things I won't be able to eat for over a year, and I can handle knowing that the surgery was not the end all be all of my weight loss. I am going to have to watch what I eat, get my protein in, and not eat sugar. What I couldn't handle last night for some reason was the realization that I can't have any of that stuff NOW.
The strange thing, which I tried to explain to my husband, was that I really didn't want candy, or chips, or sugar. I just wanted something that wasn't mush. i wanted something with some crunch and I only wanted a a small bite of it. But, no matter how I tried to explain it, I couldn't get my point across. My poor husband seemed so confused when i finished explaining my feelings. He kept trying to "fix it" by coming up with options (which none of them sounded good at all) which only made him feel frustrated for not being able to help. Then, it all boiled up inside of me. While my husband was deciding between sugary item 1 vs. sugary item 2, I lost it. I became the crazy witch that I thought I buried a week ago. Somehow she managed to claw her way up thought the dirt of her shallow grave and rear her ugly head. I finally snapped. I told him to buy them both so we could get out of there. He didn't get it. He continued to do the pros and cons between the two. I couldn't handle it. I grabbed both things and threw them in the cart before he could say another thing. I somehow made it through the check out line and out the door before I lost it. Once outside, the tears came. I couldn't even explain why I was crying. I didn't regret my surgery. I wasn't mad at my husband for getting real food and snacks. I just felt tired. Tired of trying to explain myself to my husband, tired of not having anything to eat that I really enjoyed. Tired of eating the same thing two times a day. I tried to voice my emotional breakdown but as much as my husband tried to understand, I couldn't even make my emotions make sense to me. Then again, what crazy person can make their craziness sound reasonable to others? That would be like being in an insane asylum am telling the doctor, "yes, I hear voices, and I know they aren't real so I think the medication and shock treatment would be the appropriate form of therapy right now." That doesn't happen, so why I thought I could explain my craziness, I can't even begin to understand.
I wish I could say that once I cried and got it all out, I felt better but I would be lying. I still want something different to eat. I miss bread. I miss chips, and I really miss ice cream. But I have to keep thinking that all those things were a huge cause of me getting to the point of having weight loss surgery. Why I want them now, I have no idea. Like I said, I think it's more that I want the option to have them more than I actually want them,. I don't want anything sweet. I don't want salty food. If you would have told me that I couldn't eat tuna, lima beans or apple sauce, I would be craving that. It's all psychological. Not that knowing that makes it easier. It actually makes me feel weak knowing it's in my head and I am still having it affect me like this.
Hopefully, my husband won't have to deal with the crazy crying lady again anytime soon. He doesn't like to see me like that and it makes him feel like he can't eat his foods in front of me. Despite me telling him numerous times that I don't care. I can see how the mixed signals could confuse him. I turned into that woman who says "No, I don't want anything for my birthday." but when my birthday comes I get upset he didn't give me a gift. If I was him, I wouldn't want to eat in front of me ever again. The poor man is walking a tight rope with no net under him. I think he's having it worse than I am even though I'm the one crying. The poor man thinks I think he's a monster when in reality, I'm the crazy witch that can't get her emotions under wraps. Hopefully for him and I, things will level out soon and my cravings will go away. If they don't, I may just rip that pizza out of his hands one night.
11 days ago I was wheeled back to the surgery room (yes, I remember this) and I told all the doctors, "Have fun taking the majority of my stomach out. I'm so ready for this...just don't mess up." The last thing I heard before I was knocked out was laughter. If you ask me, that's a great thing to hear before you undergo any major surgery. When I woke up, there wasn't any more laughing. Actually, I had Nurse Hatchet as my post op nurse. I remember thinking, "this lady is in the wrong field." She wouldn't listen to me when I told her how much pain I was in. All she would say was, "of course you're in pain, you just had surgery." Needless to say, the hospital messed up and didn't give me the right meds and that's why I was in so much pain. If Nurse Hatchet would have listened to the half asleep, babbling girl in post op, she may have noticed the hospital's mistakes and fixed them. Instead, I had to deal with horrific pain for 5 hours before my husband finally said something to the nurse who was caring for me in my room. Due to my chronic back pain, I am on some major feel good drugs. Knowing this, they still put me on medication that was lower than what I normally take. However, thanks to my passive aggressive (sometimes there's no passive about it) husband, I was placed on the correct meds and began healing.
Once I came home, I was shocked at all the gas I had to expel. While in the hospital all I did was burp a few times but once I got home, the gas couldn't find a way out fast enough. It didn't care why exit it used as long as it escaped. I learned that walking helped me get the gasses out even faster. The crazy thing is that no matter how long I walked, the gas seemed to wait to exit once I was done and in the house. My husband swears I held it in and let it out in the house on purpose just to prove he didn't marry a woman. He has told me multiple times this week that I am a man with a vagina....because no woman expels that much gas. To be honest, there were times I wondered if he was right.
Then came the mood swings. My moods were swinging around like the chimpanzees in your local zoo. Maybe even more accurate would be my moods were going up and down faster than any express elevator I've ever been on and the aftermath of my mood swings was equal to any hurricane that has ever passed through the area. To make it worse, all my anger was directed at my husband. He had a huge bulls-eye on him and I aimed for a perfect score as many times a day as I could. The worst part is that I felt myself verbally attacking the man I love and I couldn't stop myself. He could say, "how are you doing today?" and I would unleash my wrath upon him because he was being condescending or just plain overbearing. The poor man became so afraid to talk that even that began to piss me off. Lucky for my marriage, things have calmed down quit a bit. So for now, we are not headed to divorce, but this journey isn't over yet, so we'll see.
The other thing that I seem to worry about more than I ever have is my urine and bowel movements. I never thought I would care this much about how much I peed and what my poop looked like or why I haven't pooped. I feel like a mother changing her child's dippers except the baby is me and the dipper is the toilet. I found myself calling my sister and asking if it's normal that I haven't pooped in five days. Apparently it is. Good to know. Now I can sleep better.
It seems like in a week and a half, I have experienced some crazy things. I can't wait to see what other crazy things I experience down the road. No matter what they are, I will try to find the humor in them and share. Good luck to everyone else out there going through this. And, to the people who are just thinking about having this done. It's not easy, but it's not as hard as you might think it is either. Just make sure you find the funny in everything. Because if you can find something to make you laugh at it all, it's much easier to swallow than any crushed up pill you have to take after surgery.
******As always, this blog is intended to make you smile. Please refrain from thinking I will kill my husband, jump over the Royal Farms counter for chicken, or sexually assault my husband...well, that last one may happen thanks to all the hormones. Needless to say, use this blog to smile and laugh. Enjoy. *****
I will be the first to admit that losing 40 pounds in six weeks is A LOT of weight in a very short amount of time. I am not saying that I am unhappy with my progress, but I have begun to notice some strange changes to my body that I didn't expect so soon. For example, who is the old woman who's stomach I have gotten? Let me explain. My stomach has shrunk and I am very happy about that. I have walked 3-5 miles a day with my stomach muscles nice and tight so that I could combat the excess skin (as much as I can) and I figured that if I were to get extra skin, i wouldn't notice it for at least 6-10 months.
Well, that's not the case. Last night I was looking in the mirror at my every changing body and I noticed something. Right around my belly button (which I can see for the first time in years), the skin above it and next to it looks like an old woman's (no offense to the 80 year olds out there reading this). It's all wrinkled and makes my tummy look much older than 37 years. Then to make matters worse, I showed it my husband only to hear this: "Yea, I noticed that awhile ago." UMMMM, excuse me? Don't you think you should have told me there was an eighty year old trying to escape via my stomach? He answered with this, "I figured you knew". Again, thanks my love for your soothing and understanding during this shocking time for me. It's not everyday someone notices their body is changing for the worse.
Now, the way my husband handles this is by saying, "Don't worry, you can always have surgery to have that fixed." What I don't get is when did we become wealthy? I have no idea where all the money for my plastic surgery is supposed to come from. Does the weight I lose turn into gold of the same weight? So far, my husband has told me I could get my breasts lifted and "filled" (He already misses them and they haven't shrunk THAT much), my tummy tucked, and now lifted in the upper part. I can't wait to see what other plastic surgery I am allowed to get once this is all done. He must be hiding all that gold somewhere, because as far as I can see, I can barely afford to pay for gas in the car to drive my butt around let alone find the money to lift my butt or any other part of my body surgically.
So, for now, the old lady and I will have to live in harmony. Lucky for me, I have no desire to wear skimpy shirts that show off my tummy....or should I say lucky for the rest of the world. For now, I will continue doing what I am and then once we win the lottery, plastic surgery here I come. LOL
Warning* This is not very comical. I think my hunger pains have taken over my sense of humor right now*
I ate dinner at at a normal time. I believe it was around 6pm. Since then, I have kept hydrated with my decaf. Crystal Lite. But, it never fails. Every night around 9pm, I want food. I have thought about this and wondered if it's "head hunger" or if I am truly hungry and I've finally figured out that YES, I am hungry. This is real hunger. This is the hunger that most people feel throughout the day but for some reason I don't feel until 9pm or later. Is my body trying to sabotage me? Why do I want food so late? Don't get me wrong, I also experience "head Hunger" but tonight (and most nights, that's not what I feel).
Tonight, my husband and I went to Royal Farms so he could get some food. I have to admit, because it was after 9, I wanted to taste everything in there. This has not been normal for me when I go into stores. Most of the time, I look at things and think, "that would taste good, but I really don't want it". He decided on a two piece chicken meal. Now, for the record, I love chicken. I can eat chicken everyday. Actually, I have eaten it everyday for the past few days. But for some reason, I had to walk away from the where he was ordering as all I could think about was jumping behind the counter and grabbing a chicken wing or leg and going to town with it. The same thing with the Krispy Kream donuts. Now, once I walked away, I was fine (though still hungry) I know I can't eat any of those things and to be honest, my mashed sweet potatoes sound more appealing to me now.
I think it's knowing I can't. I've never been good with being told I couldn't do something. If someone told me I couldn't do something, I would do everything in my power to prove them wrong. But with this, I can't do that. Proving "that person" wrong would only hurt me. I would also be saying that I did all this for nothing. And, I must admit that my biggest fear is being one of those people who in two years is the same weight or more than I was on my surgery date. That REALLY scares me. It scares me enough to not force the food in, to make sure I get my protein, and to make sure I get my liquids. Also, it scares me enough to teach myself how to deal with this "hunger" I feel after 9pm. Maybe I will need to eat dinner later. I am a night person so eating at 7pm would help with the hunger a little bit. As for the "head hunger" that I get at times, I think I have to just keep doing what I'm doing. Walk away. Tell myself what's important. No matter how good a tiny piece of donut would be, it wouldn't feel nearly as good as weighing 150lbs. I don't think anything could top that. Well, maybe winning the lotto, but I have a much better shot at making my goal weight.
So, I need to change my eating times. Or eat more than three times a day. Though, right now that seems to be all I am able to get in. I think I will strive to eat more than three times a day. I am sure once I am healed and able to "snack", things will be better. I am sure right now, a hand full of almonds would fill me up and satisfy my hunger, but I am not to that point yet. So, like all of you, I will continue to learn as I go and hope I am doing the right things. Because, no matter what, I'm going to be a loser. And, I am going to be proud of it.
Welcome. This blog is dedicated to all the people out there who didn't take the easy way out. It doesn't matter if you had the bypass, the sleeve, or the lap-band, it's not easy going through all the changes associated with weight loss surgery. This is why I wanted to bring some comedy to the table. I can't really bring anything else as I wouldn't be able to get it down but, laughter makes everything better and I hope this blog makes your experience just a little easier during those tough times.
I can't promise everything I type will be funny...hell, I can't even promise a little bit will be funny. All I can promise is that I will be honest, blunt, and sometimes I will look at situations a little differently than most people.
My name is Tricia and I have been fat my whole life. Even when I look back at photos of myself where I was "thin", I remember still feeling fat in compassion to my friends. However, I was always active and in shape so I didn't really let being the bigger one in my group bother me. Then when I was 20 years old and in college, I developed really bad back issues. In the past 17 years, I put on over 100lbs, began feeling like a blob, and I felt my self esteem fall drastically. Three years ago, I watched my sister, Cherie, go through gastric bypass surgery and I have to admit, watching her loose the weight made me very happy for her but not so happy with myself. I would watch her sit at family dinners and nibble on very little food and then announce how full she was. I remember thinking that I could never give up enjoying food like she did. But, the more she lost the more I thought about giving everything up just too be thin.
Then in December of 2010, my back finally gave out and I had to leave work. This was devastating for me as have always been a worker and the idea of going on disability was heart-wrenching for me. After many doctor's apts, I was told that I needed a new disc in my back but the only way to be able to have one is if I lost a LOT of weight. Apparently, fat people can't get new discs as the disc doesn't seem to set right. Who knew a titanium disc was so picky? So, I began the long process of nutrition classes, Life Skill classes, doctor's apts, and finally surgery. On April 12, 2012 I had Dr. Gail Wynn, from Christiana, De., remove a big portion of my stomach. Since then, I have experienced so many funny, strange, crazy things that I figured it would help if I shares some of them. I don't know if anyone will actually read this Blog, but at least I'm getting my thoughts out there. Hope you all enjoy them.
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.
