NOTE: If Sex is a four letter word to you and you are not comfortable talking openly about it, I recommend that you stop reading right now!!!! ................Go on, I'll wait for you to leave................If you're still here, please be advised that the following blog will be talking openly about sex, sexual positions, feelings during sex, and different forms of sex (meaning oral/regular). If that sentence scared you and you feel that this may be too blunt of a topic, please leave now or forever hold your piece (pun intended) LOL. I do not want to read anything telling me that this topic isn't appropriate. Almost everyone has sex and when you lose weight, the experience changes. That's what I'm talking about today. Nothing more, nothing less. Oh, there may be some humor thrown in for good measure.
Ok, whom ever is still with me, I thank you for understanding that many things change after weight loss surgery/ And yes, sex is one of those things. How do I know this you may ask? Well, it took a while for me to get all my hormones in check and allow my loving husband to "take charge". Once I was able to do that, not only did I get what I've been wanting for for awhile (three months to be exact), but I have to admit that it was AMAZING. With all the extra hormones in your blood after surgery, the sex is more intense. It's what I would imagine being on ecstasy and doing it would feel like. I am sure anyone who has ever done EX is going, "ummmmm....no, not even close", but since I don't really know, it's what I imagine it being like. The feeling of a touch, kiss, lick and yes, penetration is so much more intense. And for the record...I LIKE IT A LOT!!!
So, my husband and I did the dirty today.....banged....got it on...he "hit" that...and any other way you want to say it. I was wondering how different it would feel after an 80lb weight loss. I knew with my thinner body, things would be different, but I didn't expect how different it would be in only two months. First, the ability to be on top and not feel as though I was going to cause his lungs to stop working or his blood to not get to his legs was nice. The better part was that being thinner, my legs wrapped around him much better and I had better movement during the act. In case you're wondering why I'm kind of speaking in code, it's becasue I am not sure just how blunt I can be. What I am saying is that my thinner legs and butt allowed for deeper penetration and becasue of the weight loss, I was able to move more than I have in the past five years. It was also much more enjoyable for him. Having less weight on him made it much more comfortable and he was able to enjoy the act even more than before. Also, when spreading my legs, my thighs didn't peel apart and only allow a small space for him to do what ever he wanted to do. What did happen was that I was able welcome him in with open legs and much smaller thighs. I also didn't feel as though I was smothering him with my thighs while he was ....well, you know. There was no peeling of any kind. Ok, that sounds so gross, but I always said I would be honest about weight loss and we all know that our thighs become very close when we are bigger. Sometimes I've wondered if I could ever get them to separate. Even when I walked they just stayed together or rub one another (sometimes they rubbed each other too much). So, if that visual offended anyone, I am sorry...I am just trying to keep this blog honest.
Now, back to the sex talk. I was shocked at the changes with sex so soon. Besides the great orgasms...yes there was more than one.....thank you hormones!!!! (and husband) I felt more comfortable with myself and my body and therefore I was able to be closer with my husband during the act. I don't mean that becasue my stomach was smaller, there was less fat between us (though true). I mean that becasue I felt good about myself and my body that I was able to enjoy the intimacy with him while having sex. Even afterwards, I allowed the intimacy to continue. I wasn't trying to cover up or get dressed afterwards. I laid in his arms and enjoyed our time together.
Now, I know I have a lot more weight to lose, but right now I am so happy with the way I look and feel that I can't imagine it getting any better. With that being said, I can't wait until I am half the size I am now. When I have sex then, it will be COMPLETELY different...and I can't wait. I joke with my husband that every time we're together he get's a "new" woman but I get the same man. His response? "I don't want a new woman. I just want you...in any shape or size that may be." Yes, that's why I love him...and how he manages to get me into bed whenever he wants. Now, I just have to figure out how to get him into bed whenever I want and we will be even.
Post coming soon....sorry for the tease.....but lets be honest, it's always better with some build up. I just need to read it when I am not half asleep. I want you all to get a good laugh. So until tomorrow.....
Now, for the record, I am not by any means thin...YET. However, I have to admit that today at the pool, I felt really good about myself. From my highest weight, I have lost close to eighty five pounds. Since my surgery, seven weeks ago, I have lost a total of fifty five pounds. It amazes me how losing that weight has affected me.
Last year I would go to the pool and try to get a chair as far away from people as possible. I would also make sure the chair was in close proximity to the steps of the pool so that I could just dart in without having too many people see me. I know people don't like to look at overweight people so I didn't want to cause their eyes to have to hurt any more than they would have to. I figured that the faster I got in, the faster I could "hide" in the water. I would have never EVER thought about sitting on the edge of the pool and chatting with a friend or walking to the far steps to get in becasue someone was hanging out at the ones near my chair. I would have waited until the people moved and then darted in to the pool. I broke all my rules today.
First, I proudly strutted my stuff down the length of the pool to go in the steps that were not being occupied. Then, I sat on the edge of the pool, legs in, and didn't once think about how fat I looked and how I shouldn't be sitting there. I also didn't dart in, and attempt to hide in the water. I took my time getting in the chilly water and enjoyed myself. When I was done, I again proudly strutted my stuff back to my chair, laid down and soaked up the sun. At one point I even looked at my ever shrinking legs and thought, "Damn girl, looking good!"
I have to admit, I like this new feeling. I can't remember ever feeling this good about myself. Even when I was a size 10 I was self conscience. I am sure the more I lose, the more my body image will change for the better. and I can't wait for that to happen, but for now, I am going to enjoy my time this summer at the pool or beach and continue to strut my stuff every chance I get and I hope you all do the same. Strut that stuff and be proud...sleeve or no sleeve, we are all beautiful!!!
Yesterday evening my college friend, Nicole, and her daughter, Bella, arrived at my home for a a little vacation. They are home from Costa Rica and seeing them is always great. I love catching up with Nicole and seeing how much Bella, has grown and matured. But, I have to admit, I was worried about their visit this time. Not because I didn't want them here. I was concerned becasue I didn't know how my new eating behaviors would effect things. Would they think I was strange eating chicken ALL THE TIME? Would I seem crazy when I measured and weighed EVERYTHING out before I ate and then wrote it all down? Most importantly, I was worried about wanting things I shouldn't eat.
Friends and food seem to go together. Think about all the great heart to hearts you've had over coffee or tee (or any other drink) and finger foods or sweets? Could catching up cause me to "drop the ball"? I was even more concerned becasue I knew I would have foods in the house that I haven't had in here for awhile. I brought cookies, chips, and other goodies for them as I knew they can't get some of those things down there and would enjoy them. Buying them didn't tempt me. They sat on the counter for days and I never even really looked at them. However, I knew the real test would come when they got here.
Well, they are here. I have maintained my normal food consumption. I haven't even thought about eating during our heart to hearts. Lucky for me she is a great friend and understands what is happening and takes it in stride. She knows not to feel bad for eating things in front of me (another thing I was worried about) and both she and her daughter seem to enjoy the goodies I bought them. They even bought themselves some different ones. All I can think is how much had changed in six...wait SEVEN weeks.
Prior to surgery, I would have been nibbling on it all and not even realizing how much I had taken in. Now, I just look at it and think that if I really want it, I can have a little bit of it but I don't want it. I have found that if I have anything really sugary, the next day it's all I want. I don't like having that feeling, so I try to stay away from sugar as much as possible. I do make some sweet roasted chic peas with splenda brown sugar that are AMAZING. but my old "go to" foods are no longer a want or a need. I can't believe how much has changed in a short time. It seems unreal to me. If I would have just tried to diet and exercise (like I've tried a million times in the past), I would be craving those things and would have totally cheated on my diet by now. I used to hate hearing people say this, but it really is a total lifestyle change. I can't believe I just wrote that....I refuse to be one of those people that say that to everyone. They annoy me and I don't want to be any more annoying than I already am.
So, I will continue to enjoy my friend and her child. We are moving a lot everyday so I am getting my exercise in. Apparently kids make you move!!! I don't have any, so from not having one to having a six year old in the home is a shock to my system (in a good way). I am sure that by the time I get used to having the little one here they will leave and then I won't know what to do with myself. The good thing is knowing they will be back in late June or early July so we can do it all again. It's nice to be able to not associate food with great friends and heart to hearts. Now I can pay attention to what she says instead of wondering who ate my last Oreo from my plate? I know we have gremlins that sneak out and take them as there is no way I ate all those cookies that fast. Now, there are no cookies, just great memories being made and that's something I am really enjoying.
As always, this is a comic view of weight loss. Please enjoy the read and understand that it's here to make you laugh....and let me vent.
First, I hope you all had a wonderful Memorial Day weekend. There is nothing better than getting together with family and friends and enjoying the unofficial start of summer with the people you care about. That is exactly what I did. And, to make it even more special we celebrated my oldest niece graduating from High School. As we always do on Memorial day, we had a BBQ. The menu consisted of grilled Hotdogs, Hamburgers, corn on the cob, mac and cheese, bake beans and due to the celebration, cake and ice-cream. All yummy food and great conversation to go along with it.
Now, I remember eating a hamburger, a huge helping of mac and cheese, and two or three ears of corn. Sometimes I would even have a hot dog to top it off. Then about an hour latter, I would finish it with some type of desert. I was the garbage disposal of the family dinner. Nothing needed to go to waste as I would make sure it found a home in my tummy. I remember eating until I couldn't move. It was enjoyable. The food was so good and I loved sitting around with my family talking about old times and recent going-ons. So it was interesting for me to look at my plate this time around. I had a half of the smallest burger not the biggest one on the plate like last year. I broke an ear of corn and ate it with a little butter. I didn't eat three ears with tons of butter and still want some more because it was sooooo good. No, this time, I couldn't even finish the part of the ear I got. I put a spoon full of mac and cheese on my plate and ate one noodle of it. I looked at the food left on my plate and though I felt good about myself, I felt horrible that I took more than I could eat. This is something I need to work on. I shouldn't feel bad that I didn't inhale every last morsel on my plate. It doesn't make me a horrible person. No matter what I was told as a child, it's ok to not finish everything. It's because I finished everything that I am in the situation I am in now. So, I now make a vow. I will no longer feel bad for leaving food on a plate. In fact, I will take that as a win for me in my new and improved healthy life.
Then the biggest temptation happened. It was cake and ice cream time. I decided to have a very little bit. I was one of the last people to get my plate unlike years before where I would be the first in line and hope for a corner piece so I could have all that icing. Nope, this time I cut a VERY tiny piece of cake and I took not even a tablespoon on ice cream to go with it. Then a funny thing happened. I took my first tiny bite. It was good. It wasn't as good as I thought it would be considering it was the first really surgery thing I've had since two weeks before my surgery (so 8-9 weeks ago). I took a second tiny bite. I looked around at the people who had heaping bowls of cake and ice cream and didn't feel left out. I didn't want any more than what I had. In fact, I didn't even finish it. If you would have told me a year ago that I would not finish my cake, I would have told you that you were crazy. Oh how wrong I would have been. In fact, I am in such a different place now that I can honestly see where my problems with food were and what I did that caused me to get so overweight. Well, no more. I refuse to go back. I enjoy my trip down on the scale. I look in the mirror and I see the person I remember. At my heaviest, I would look in the mirror and not recognize myself. I never want to feel that way ago. So, from now on, Let Them Eat Cake. They can eat it up and enjoy it. I think I'll just sit back and watch and think about how the scale will thank me for not joining the crowd. Now, if it was carrot cake, I can't say I will be so strong. But, that's another blog post....and I am sure I will be tempted with it sometime soon. I can't wait to see what happens.
As always, this is a comic view of my weight loss.....though the story is true, it has been changes a little in order to find the comical side of things. Enjoy!!!!
My scale can not decide what number it wants to show me. It goes down, then back up, then down again. It is worse than any yo-yo I've ever owned. At least with the yo-yo, at some point it stays down because I don't know what I'm doing when it comes to using one. I can't seem to figure out why my weight won't make up its mind. Nothing has changed in my eating habits but for some reason my weight loss has decided to take a vacation and it didn't tell me where it was going. I am not sure why why it decided to leave now, we were getting along so well. I would tell the scale and weight loss how happy I was to see them, and they would keep going down. Positive reinforcement seemed to work. Now, the numbers go up and then down but never back to where it's last lowest number was. I have continued to tell the scale and the numbers that it's alright, I understand, and that when they are ready they will begin to fall again. However, that's not helping.
So now I am thinking that negative reinforcement may help. Problem is, the only thing I can think of would be handing my scale back over to my husband and the only person that feels the affect of that is me. And, as you know I've worked really hard to get my scale privileges back. I've been very good not obsessing and/or weighing myself daily. I weigh myself every other day or every three days. That seemed to work...until now. I was getting good results and was a happy camper as I watched the numbers go down...down...down. That's not the case now. This camper is so not happy.
The numbers have jumped up and down with in a ten pound radius. I can't make any sense of it. I thought about the fact that I'm gaining muscle, but that's been the case since the beginning. I've thought about it being that time of the month, or that I'm constipated, but that offers little encouragement. So, now I am starting to think that maybe my body knew how happy I was becoming with it and wasn't used to all the positive thoughts so it decided to protest. Kind of like a teenager that begins getting bad grades after people tell him/her how smart he/she is. Kind of like self sabotage. But, I'm not sabotaging anything. I eat around 800-1000 calories a day. I get my protein in and I've begun working on getting my fruits and veggies in as well. So, I have decided my scale is wrong. It has to be. There is no other reason for it to be the way it is. If it wasn't wrong, it wouldn't keep giving me all these different numbers. I've been nice to it. I've told it how happy I am to have it in my life. Then BAM, it goes and does this to me. So, I've decided I'm going to ignore it. I'm not going to spend anytime with it for the next few weeks. That way, it can see how lonely life can be with out me. It also gives it time to think about the emotional damage it's caused me and then maybe (just maybe) it will decide to act right and show the correct (LOWER) numbers. Yes, as of right now, I've decided that the scale and I are on a break (like Rachel and Ross). But, if it decides to go find comfort elsewhere (with my husband), I will NOT take it back. Just because we are on a break doesn't mean it has the right to go give it's numbers to anyone else who shows it some attention.
I never thought I was an emotional eater. Most times when I am really upset about something, I am not hungry at all. I remember one time when my now husband and I broke up. We were engaged at the time and I refuses to give him my ring when I walked out the door. I ended up going to the beach. It's the one place I can always feel better and make sense of what I am feeling. Those three days, I think i ate 1/2 of a turkey club sandwich. Nothing else. No chips, no sweets, nothing. I lost 15lbs in 4 days. The good thing was that if we stayed broken up, I would have slimmed down A LOT and maybe found a new man pretty quickly. (my husband isn't very happy that I wrote that last part). LOL
I tell you all this to explain today. Today I received some bad news. Nothing major. No one died or anything. It was news that I knew caused my mother to be very upset and though it upset me, I was more upset that my mother cried. No one likes to see their mother cry. So, with it being lunch time, I looked around for what I was going to have for lunch. Nothing looked good to me. The thought of eating made my stomach turn....until I thought of carrot cake. If you have been reading my blog, you know my love (almost obsession) with carrot cake. I thought, "YUMMM carrot cake sure sounds good. I bet I could eat a whole slice." WHAT? Where did that thought come from? I haven't really wanted anything sweet since surgery so why was carrot cake on my mind now? I sat for a moment thinking about this and then had my "light bulb" moment. Sugar makes everything better.
If I look back at my childhood, sugar played a huge part of making me feel better or was given as a reward. If I had a sore throat, after the doctor's visit, my mother would take me to McDonald's for an ice cream or milk shake. If I ate everything on my plate, I got desert. If I finished my chores, I got a cookie with chocolate milk. Now, I don't think my mother was trying to get me to associate food with good feelings. I think she just thought she was being nice. It wasn't always bad things. There were times I got an apple, an orange, or some grapes. But to me, the best memories were from the special sugary treats.
So, as I sat there coming to the realization that food was a reward to me most of the time, I decided that food will no longer play that roll. Food is something to give me energy. It helps my body do what it needs to. It can taste good and be enjoyable but it is not something I get to feel better or to reward myself with. I am thinking clothes would be a good thing to replace food...but that could be VERY expensive. Let's be honest, a milky way is much cheaper than a pair of shorts or a shirt. So, for now my reward is the scale going down. Knowing if I eat to make myself feel better or to reward myself will be sabotage and I refuse to have gone through all this for nothing. So, the candy bars, ice cream, and all the sugary things can remain on the store shelf. How did I deal with it today? I had a Lean Shake. 25 grams of protein, and I'm full. Not as tasty, but much better for me.
Today I have felt as though there is no bottom to my stomach. I have been so hungry that I think I could eat a whole pig if one was offered up. I am not sure where these hunger pains are coming from except that it's REALLY close to that time of the month.
Now, I have been very good at what I am eating. I have roasted chick peas that I munch on and some almonds. The problem with the almonds or any nut is that I could eat them until I got sick....lucky for me, I haven't. I need to learn to really focus on my hunger and figure out what my body is telling me. I will admit that I haven't really eaten much the last few days. I have had my three meals a day and made all my protein, but I had to force those meals down because I wasn't really hungry. Then BOOM, today my body and stomach do a 180 and now everything that can be consumed, I want to consume. Usually when I am like this (before surgery), I want ice cream, chocolate, bread, and salty foods. That isn't the case now. Now, I want healthy foods like nuts, apples, and peanut butter. I guess that's a good thing but I have to admit, I feel horrible for eating this much. Now, I don't fill up to the brim. I haven't slimmed, and to be honest, I am eating small "meals" every few hours but compared to what I was eating before surgery and after surgery, I feel like a hungry hippo chomping for those marbles.
I have read on here that there comes a time where people feel hungry constantly and eat more than they have been. I guess that is where I am now. I hope that tomorrow, I wake up and am no longer chasing those marbles. Also, maybe Aunt Flow will show up and put this wanting to eat thing to rest. I swear if it wasn't for Aunt Flow, I wouldn't have any worries but that lady is NO FUN and every time she comes around, I feel the hunger rearing it's ugly head. The hunger gets worse the closer she gets. Mother Nature and Eve sure weren't looking out for all the other women in the world when they decided to follow their own plans and not listen to anyone. Thanks a lot!!!
It amazes me how much my body has changed in only five weeks. Rolls are smaller, my side boobs are almost gone, and my stomach is semi flat (though still big). My legs are changing and shaping and my boobs are shrinking to the smallest they have been since college....when I used to think they were very large. If I have changed this much is such a short time, I can't even imagine what I will look like in a year. The idea of being around 150 pounds is still unreal to me. I know it's my goal and I am doing everything I need to in order to make my goal, but it still seems crazy to me to think I could ever bee that thin. I wasn't even that thin in high school.
Yesterday I took the plunge and tried on my bathing suit. I knew when I bought it two years ago that it was too small for me, but I didn't care. I shoved every inch of fat into it and enjoyed myself on the beach or in the pool. That won't be the case this year. First, it went right on with no wiggle-wiggle. You girls know what I mean. The moving your body and the garment in an attempt to get it up and over your ___________(fill in the blank). Nope, this time it slid right up. It fit perfectly and I looked good in it. Not model good, but good. I will no longer have to pretend that I feel comfortable at the beach, because now I will be. I was so excited that I came running out of the bedroom to tell my husband only to find him passed out on the couch taking a nap. So, I decided to jump into the car and drive the mile to my parent's home and show my new body to my mother. I was smart enough to throw some clothes on before running out the door. I think it would be a little strange to see a woman driving in her bathing suit this early in the summer. I do live near a beach, so it's not as uncommon as you may think. I literately walked into the house, said hello and stripped down to my bathing suit. Lucky for me my mother is very understanding and didn't demand me to stop stripping in her kitchen. Instead, she looked me up and down and told me how wonderful I look. Yea, I look wonderful in a bathing suit. LOL
Then to make my weekend even better, I tried on a pair of Old Navy sweats I bought prior to my surgery. They couldn't get over my but when I bought them but now, they fit just perfectly. I am really liking this weight loss thing that comes from getting a sleeve. I wish someone would have told me this would have been a side affect. I would have done it a long time ago. LOL Just kidding. The only side affect I didn't really know about was how good I would really feel and not just because the clothes fit. It's more just feeling better all around. Knowing I did something for me that is making me healthier every day. Now, if weight loss is a part of that, I'll take it. I will also take feeling good in a bathing suit (both kinds) because, that's something I haven't felt .... well, ever.
I had indigestion prior to my sleeve surgery. It was rare, but when I did have it, it was bad. So, I got a pill to make it all better. When I looked into getting the sleeve, I was excited to see that my stomach juices would calm down and this feeling of wanting to just throw up would never happen again. Boy, was I wrong. I hate to say this, but it's only gotten worse. I went from taking my pill once a week to every day and I still feel the indigestion. Sometimes I wonder if the surgeon gave me some extra "stomach juice switches" and didn't tell me. That seems to be the only thing that makes sense to me. I don't eat things that I shouldn't, and I really don't eat much at all, so what is causing this other than my surgeon playing a trick on me?
Now, I know my surgeon didn't do anything to me except take out most of my tummy and staple the part she left. However, it feels as though she replaced my stomach with a volcano and all it wants to do is BLOW. I've never wished that I could just throw up but today, that is how I feel. I've tried everything. I've taken my meds, taken Tums, and even drank some milk. The milk seems to be the only thing that has worked except for the walking. However, I can't walk all night long. Last time I tried walking at night I almost got ran over. I would hate for my indigestion to cause me to end up in the hospital with broken bones because a stupid driver wasn't paying attention. So, I think I'll stick with the milk for now.
So, that's all. Nothing else to say. I just wanted to vent about the volcano and the acid that wants nothing more than to escape from mouth. A few weeks ago I wished to get rid of all the farting and burping. Now that this has started, I pray the farts and burps will come back....at least they didn't keep me up at night. Though I can't say the same for my poor husband.
As you are all now aware, I have MAJOR back issues. So, getting in any exercise can be difficult for me. I can't wait for the pool to open up and warm up so that I can do water work outs. Dreaming about that puts a smile on my face. Anyway, back to reality. For now, I walk when I can and I walk as much as I am able to. I have had days that all I could do was .10mile, and I've had 5 mile days. Either way, I tell myself I did something and it's more than I did before my sleeve so I'm doing better than I was before.
I didn't tell you all that to get a pat on the back or to be told how great it is I walk. Nope, I told you because I need you to understand that if I can walk, I want to walk. I want to walk out my door, put on my headphones, blast my music, set my endomundo (an app that tells me how far I've gone), and WALK. I don't want to have to stop and pet the neighbor's dog, or be forced into idle conversation for 10 mins. Who thinks it's ok to stop someone on a major power walk to talk about the weather? Now, please don't get me wrong here. I will wave and say hello. I may even slow down and give "Lucky" a quick pet and tell how cute he is. What I will not do is stop completely. Therefore, I am the keep walking talker. I will turn around and listen to you as you talk and place my life in danger as I can no longer see the on coming traffic, in an attempt for you to understand that I DO NOT WANT TO STOP. But, that doesn't seem to work often. I will walk in place so you can see you're annoying me but that seems to have no affect as well. I've even taken to walking at night so that other people won't be outside. All that did was get me almost hit by a speeding car. If I had been walking backwards, I would have surely been splattered on that person's windshield. That happened just last night and yes, I had a flashlight and it was on. The worst part of that experience is my back was so bad but I wanted to get something in. I should have just stayed inside.
In the past month, this is what I've learned to keep people away as I walk. I am the first to wave and smile. I say hello but I DO NOT remove my ear plugs. That way if they say more than hello, I don't really hear it. Second, I keep walking and look straight ahead after waving and saying hello. I do not want to give anyone the idea that I want to talk. i want them to see I am on a mission and they are not included in my plans. Lastly, I refuse to acknowledge dogs. This one is hard for me because I love dogs. But I've found if Lucky can get me off my game, you can talk and that causes me to not be walking.
With all this said, please know that I am not a mean person. I just like to focus on my task at hand and I do not like someone diverting me from that task. I will continue to be pleasant, but don't expect me to stop my exercise (the little I am able to get) and have a conversation with you. If you want to chit chat, meet me at the neighborhood pool in a couple of weeks. I can chat while in the water doing leg kicks....and you won't even know I'm working out. That way, we are both happy and I no longer seem like a witch.
Hello everyone. I promise that I haven't forgotten about you. I sit at the computer everyday and begin typing but realize that I'm a REALLY boring person. Unless something really funny happens to me, I don't have much to report to you. So, for today you are just going to get my thoughts from the past few days.
Walking is wonderful. I really enjoy getting outside everyday and attempting to beat my previous time. Yesterday, I walked a 18min mile. That may not sound like much, but when I first started my mile was around 30mins. So, I am getting better, thinner, and faster and I love every second of it. Before long, I will running instead of walking....sorry, I was laughing so hard at that, I fell off the chair. I will only be running if someone or something bad is chasing me. And, lets be honest, the bad thing will more than likely get me. That reminds me, I need to check my will and make sure it's updated.
Mother's Day: I spent this day with my family. I do not have any children, but I enjoyed being with my mother and sister and all her children. The best was sitting down at a family dinner and being able to eat with them. The last time I attempted this was Easter, and I was on my per-surgery diet so I couldn't eat. I was in week 2 and I was soooo depressed. I burst into tear right before the meal was served. But, unlike my mental breakdown last time we were all together, I was able to have some hamburger, beans, corn, and a bite of mac and cheese. I know it sounds like a lot, but trust me, I only ate around 3onz. So, while everyone was digging in and loading up their plates, my sister and I sat there picking at our food and loading up on conversation and family time. My only issue since I've started real food is veggies, and the need to walk after every meal. I looked like a crazy person as everyone was sitting at the table talking and I was walking in circles in the back yard. But hey, I figured the walking burned off at least a bean or two.
Doctor's Apt: I am not sure if I have told you all that I am currently on disability I have a really bad back. One of the major reasons I had this surgery was so that I can get a new disc when I lose enough weight. With that said, Today I had to go see the SS doctor for him to check out my "ability". Well, in the exam, he started pushing on my stomach. I explained that it really hurt as I just had surgery and I was still healing. Then he made me lay down to do his pushing and said, "I need to see your scars". WHAT???? I never expected to hear that. Now, before I go off about this "independent doctor who is paid by the government" you need to know that the whole time I was in there he was rude, demeaning and he STUNK. At first I thought it was what he ate for lunch, but it wasn't. It was him. How do you tell a mean hateful doctor that he stinks? He also made me lay down and when he told me to get up, he grabbed my arm and PULLED me. Now, if any of you have back issues, you know the worst thing to do to a person with back issues to to "help" them get up. Lucky for me, my husband jumped up and told him not to do that. This doctor shouldn't have been allowed to evaluate monkeys at a zoo, let alone people. Now, speaking of the doctor's office, I was also shocked to listen to two patients in the waiting room. They were openly talking about their illegal drug use. Then to top it off, the woman said what a great daughter she had....the same daughter that was doing the drugs as well. It was crazy in there. I really felt out of place.
Food: I am doing well with my food. it's interesting to try regular food. I am scared most of the time but only a few times have I felt "uneasy". I haven't had any more slimming nor have I thrown up. Hope this stays this way. Also, my husband enjoys watching me enjoy new foods.
So, that's what's been going on with me. Like I told you, nothing exciting. We are pretty boring. I am sure I will have some interesting and funny stories soon.
******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 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.
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.
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.
Guess what?!!! My husband gave me my scale back. Not sure how long I have it for, but at least I have it for today. So, after doing my morning bathroom ritual, I weighed myself. I am down 2.5 pounds since my last weigh in. Talk about feeling good about what I'm doing. It was so nice to see a change after all those times I got on it with no changes. It's sad and funny how a little thing like a scale can have such a huge impact on our emotions. If it doesn't change or heaven forbid it goes up, we are worse to deal with than someone going through menopause. But, if we lose, even if it's just a little bit, we are on the the complete opposite side of the spectrum. We are the life of the party. We are handing out hats, blow horns, and pureed cake (for all the other people). How did we every get to a place where a number would have such a huge bearing on our emotions? Did it start when we were little and we looked through Seventeen, Cosmo, or any other magazine that told us what a perfect body should look like? Did it happen when we had to get weighed in middle school in front of all our class mates? We were able to see what the average weight for people in our grade was (mine was 65-70 pounds), and how off we were from it (I was 100 pounds) and yes, I was considered FAT. It could have also came when we had to do the physical fitness thing for gym. I remember having to do pull ups and not being able to even bring my body up a little. Or the sit ups. How many can you do in a minute? Apparently I couldn't do nearly as many as the thin person next to me. What the rope climb? I couldn't even get to the first knot and it was right off the ground. Then there was the mile. Most people ran it in 8-10mins. I "ran" it in 20. Only to be told how I wasn't even close to the average. Listen to me Gym Teacher. You should be happy I even ran or attempted to run. I knew I would be the last person in but I still tried. I don't need to finally get through to the finish line to be told had badly I did. Then the worst part about it all? The shower. Trying to hid in the back and keep yourself covered as long as possible. I would jump in the shower when everyone else left and hurry up and jump out and get dressed with little to no time to spare. Having all the thin girls prance around the locker room didn't help me feel better about myself nor did watching those same stick figures weigh themselves and talk about how fat they were.
It is so sad how emotionally damaged we all were about our weight and how we looked (even the thin girls). I hope when I have children that I can make them see that they are beautiful no matter what a magazine says and no matter what their friends look like. But I know that media will still make it into her head and she will fight with it like we all have/still do.
Now, my second topic of the day. Hopefully not as depressing. I want to talk about the cost of healthy food. I have spent more money in the past month (since I can't eat much) than I did prior to having this surgery. For example. I buy Lean Shakes. On sale, I spent $60 for 24 bottles. That is just crazy. I think GNC knows that we will pay it for good tasting protein. There is no way it cost that much to make and ship. But, what do I do? Do I force myself to drink soemthing I hate with much less protein in it? No, I continue to drink these overpriced high protein shakes. I am praying that once it's no longer the "new thing" that the cost will go down dramatically. Then there is the cost of tuna fish. When did all white tuna begin to cost an arm and a leg? At my favorite store (please hear the sarcasm dripping from my lips) Walmart, I paid $1.85 a can. I swear I am buying caviar not tuna fish. There is no need for my tuna to cost almost $2.00 a can. I remember when I could get the same thing for .25 a can at the local grocery store. What happened to those days. And, for the record I am in my 30's so it wasn't that long ago. Next is fruits and veggies. Why do apples cost .99 a pound? I can't remember the cost of my spinach, but I do know it was high. My frozen blueberries were 11.50 for a large bag. Lima beans are $2 for a small frozen bag. Then, add in the fiber I have to take since this surgery, the vitamins, the calcium, and the B12 and I swear, my wallet and bank account are shrinking much faster than my waist is. No wonder the U.S is so fat. It cost less to go buy a double cheeseburger and fries from McDonald's than it does to buy a salad from Salad Works (or McDonald's for that matter......but we all know that the the McDonald's salad usually has just as much fat and sodium in it as the double cheeseburger). This is just ridiculous if you ask me. Fresh food should not be more expensive than processed food. Going through a drive through should not save me more money than going to the grocery store and stocking up on veggies and fruits and fresh meats. No wonder we all ended up where we did. Everyone wants to save money. No one wants to pay out more for food that may go bad faster than anything in a box or bag. I for one didn't like that idea and because of that, I would go for the cheaper, faster food.
Ok, I am done with my venting (some may call it something else ) I am sure I am not the only person who has noticed the cost of things or the need for the scale to give us the approval we never got from other people. I know I can't change any of it, but at least I can get my opinion out there and maybe if you agree, you can get your opinions out there too...and so on. Maybe one day, our children will not need to feel the need to starve themselves, or over eat in an attempt to feel some sort of relief from the social and media bombardment they experience. Woman have curves!!! We have boobs and hips. We have butts. And if you ask me, I think having all those things makes me beautiful. I have no desire to loose so much that I no longer look like a woman. I already miss the boobs and butt I've lost, but not as much as my husband.
I have been walking since I woke up in the hospital. I have walked 2-5 miles a day since my surgery. So why oh why am I NOW getting blisters? As you can see, I have good sneakers (though old) and I wear socks when I walk. So why now do my feet look as though I have been running 10 miles a day? I think it's my body's way of fighting against all this positive eating and exercise. Whoever said eating well and exercising was good for you lied. That person was already thin and didn't have deal with all the changes that come along with changing your whole lifestyle.
For example, I am getting pimples in places that shouldn't be getting pimples. I think it's because for so many years the fat covered those areas and now that they are open to fresh air, they don't know what to do. I will say that they hurt and they are never in a place that make it easy to pop them. So, you have to deal with the pain until they decide to pop on their own. Also, the thin person didn't have to deal with chafing. It seems that the more I loose, the more I chafe. I guess the fat kept things from rubbing together and now, there is less fat, so my thighs are rubbing together while I walk, in an attempt to spark a fire. But, the only fire they are starting is the burning sensation of the chafing between my thighs. Not fun. I mean it may be funny, but it's really not fun to deal with. For the record, I didn't think it would be appropriate for me to provide a photo of those things for you to see. I don't want to scare away all my readers. Plus, there is no bigger person who doesn't know exactly what I am talking about. And, if you somehow managed to make it on this site with out ever having chafing, then you are lying or shouldn't be here.
Then, to top it all off, the other day I got blisters on the top of my feet. Then today I get them on the back of my feet. Are my feet loosing weight too? I can't figure out any other reason for this happening now. It didn't happen for the first three weeks, so why now? Is my body trying to tell me that my walks are pissing it off? Therefore, my body is going to rebel and cause me pain? I put band-aids on the blisters on top of my feet for my walk today. Only to have to stop in the middle of my walk due to the crazy pain coming from my heals. As you can see from the photo, today, I developed blisters on my heals too. I guess my heals felt left out of the rebellion my body was going through. Not any more. My heals have been welcomed to the party of causing me pain and they are enjoying themselves more than anything else right now.
I guess looking good is painful. If it was easy to be thin and in shape we wouldn't have had to go through major surgery to help us lose weight. Also, i have to think about it like this. Is this pain any worse than the pain of wearing a pair of jeans all day long that are too tight? You know what I am talking about. The pair that you had to lay on the bed and suck in to zip up and button. Sometimes we would even get some help with the closure. Once up we would pray that when we sat up they didn't split in half. The pair that dug into your stomach and left the deep red marks?! Those were painful!! At least the pain on my feet and other places will get better as I loose weight. Those jeans never seemed to get looser no matter what I tried. So, I much rather have this pain and know that soon those tight jeans will not fit at all because they are too big. Who would have ever thought that day would come? And, when it does...I will definitely take a photo and post it!!!!
Two days ago I posted about my pretty light blue Shake Weight. I wanted to share a photo of that with you so you can how I could be drawn to the pretty color and the shinny ends. Yes, I still use it whenever I get a chance and i do like it. It's very addictive. Hope you enoy my new toy as much as I do..even though you aren't able to play with it. Sorry about that. I'd share if you were here.
I have a problem. It's not a big problem. Some may say it's not a problem at all. However, I feel as though I have begun to let this little thing begin to take control of my life and I do not like it. What pray tell am I talking about? Is it pills? Illegal drugs? Alcohol? The scale (again)? Nope, it's none of those things. It's the one ounce cups they gave me at the hospital. You know what I'm talking about. Those cute little plastic cups that are so clearly marked with 1/2 and 1 ounce for liquids. Yes, those are the ones. I can't seem to drink anything with out using them. I even keep a running total of the number of 1ounce cups I have consumed on a nearby piece of paper. I don't understand why I can't look at a glass or a cup and figure out how much I've had to drink. I know it's not that hard to do but for some reason, I have become reliant on my little one ounce cups. I've even included a photo of my obsession.
I don't need them when I am out and about. I can look at a 20 ounce bottle and figure out how much I've had from it. Same thing with my 14ounce Lean Shakes. But for some reason, when I come home and put my liquids in a regular glass or cup, I lose all ability to do simple math and I NEED my handy little cup. My husband is getting sick of my little cup obsession. He has even asked when I will be done using them. I had to be honest and tell him that I wasn't sure. I need to be careful with what i say to him or he's likely to go hid my little cups with my scale and only allow me to use them once every week. Actually, that may be a good thing. For the record, I felt very thin this morning but was unable to check my progress due to not knowing where my scale is. This is getting old VERY fast. LOL So, I have found my new crutch to hold on to for now. My little cups.
I have thought about why I need them only at home, and I think I've figured it out. I have to keep a food log for the first two months after surgery (this includes liquids). I am not sure how many of you have to do this as well, but for the record it's a pain in my ever shrinking butt. Before I eat or drink anything, I have to put down the start time, what it is, and then when I am done, I have to fill in out much I've had and the end time. I can't just go get my mush for dinner and sit down and enjoy it. I have to go through all this documenting and by the time I get to sit down and try to enjoy my mush, it's not hot anymore. All I want is hot mush. It's bad enough I am having mush to begin with, can't it at least be mush to my liking?
I am sure you are all aware that mush isn't that good anyway so to have to take the extra few seconds to fill out this form which in turn makes it lukewarm, only adds to my hatred or my food log. I don't get much to eat, let me enjoy what I do get. Ok, my rant about my food log is done for now. I am sure it will come up in future blog posts.
So, back to my little cups. I know I have to give them up soon. I know there is no real need for me to hold on to them. I wonder if deep down I'm worried about taking in too much liquid even though I know my body will "let me know" if I do. Or it could be that I'm worried I won't get enough liquids in even though I know that's not possible with the amount I drink. So, I am going to make a pack. I am not going to use my cup after I finish with my current crystal lite drink. Just saying that has struck fear in my heart. My inner voice is even laughing me right now. "Come on Trish, you can do this. You drank just fine without these little cups before surgery and you can do it again. So, wish me luck and let me know if you are still using the little one ouncers as well. If so, maybe we can stop together. The good thing to remember is that relapse is part of recover. So if I slip up and use it again, I can just consider myself one step closer to recovering. *side note, I was a Drug and Alcohol counselor for years...not sure how good I was after reading my last few statements*
Anyway, here I go, drink is finished and the little cup is going bye-bye. I promised myself I wouldn't cry, but now I'm not so sure. As I place the cup in my recycle bin, I can feel the emotions welling up inside. The only thing that is helping me through this (and helping me not take it out of the trash) is the knowledge that I still have a whole stake of one ounce cups in the cabinet. You know, just in case I need them.
I have no idea why I think I can keep doing this to my body. Three weeks ago I had most of my stomach taken out and then today I had two teeth pulled (one on the left and one on the right). To be honest, I think the teeth pulling was worse than the sleeve. At least I got good drugs with the sleeve surgery. Also, I had better doctors who were nice and caring. This doctor was fast and rough and I only like that every once in a while (wink) but not in a doctor's office with a man I don't know. I figure if you voluntarily go into a place where people actually hold you down while another person does soemthing to you, you probably aren't going to enjoy it very much and if you do enjoy it, it's probably not something we should be talking about on here. Needless to say, my mouth hurts and both sides are swollen. The cold liquids feel good but the idea of trying to eat any type of pureed food right now isn't sounding to good. So, because I am not feeling very comical today I wanted to take this time to thank you all for reading my blog.
When I started this, I figured no one would really read it but it would give me an out to vent and talk about going through this in a funny way. It was therapy in a way. We all know that if our family members haven't been through it, they really don't understand what we're going through. That's not to say they don't try, but unless you go through it all, you can't understand the ups and downs of our emotions and our scales. That is if you even have a scale. I'm still a little ticked my husband hid mine from me. LOL
So, thank you. Thank you all for taking the time and reading my crazy rants. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. Thank you to all the people who leave me comments. I really look forward to reading what you have to say and I love knowing that I can make your day a little better with my words. As long as I can make someone laugh, then I've done my job. So, I will keep writing if you keep reading. Let me know if there is anything that bothers you while going through this and maybe I can write about going through the same thing.
Now with all that mushy stuff out of the way, I am going to go ice my face and hope that my body doesn't start turning against me. I have promised it that I won't take anything else out of it (that I know of). Hopefully that promise will keep it working for a little bit longer. But for now, I need to give it what it wants...REST!!! Tomorrow I promise to write something a little more comical and sleeve based....if my body lets me, who knows, my fingers may go on strike because of the teeth. I'll have to wait and see.
I can't believe he did it. My husband actually hid my scale. What am I going to do? Does he not know I NEED that scale daily? I know I read the last post to him, but I didn't really think he would take it away and hide it. I noticed as I was peeing. I looked down and where the pretty digital scale used to sit, there was nothing but an empty floor. Flooring can't tell me how much I way. Doesn't he know this?
When I finished, I came out and sat down and had a little talk with my dear husband. he told me he would bring it out once a week for weigh ins. My response (and this is no lie), "What if you bring it out on my 'fat' day"? Then what?" With out missing a beat, he said, "Then I guess I will have to change days." Sometimes I hate him for being so fast on his feet. So, for now I am going through withdraw. Wish me luck. I know I can make it through this, but I also know how hard it's going to be. Anyone out there want to do the once a week weigh in with me? That may help knowing that other people have to wait for their weight too. Let me know and we can go through this together. I still can't believe he did it though. LOL
****Disclaimer: As always, this is a comical view on everyday issues that happen to people (or at least me) who have had weight loss surgery. Please do not take this seriously. I just want you to enjoy it and hopefully finish with a smile on your face****
I know I am not supposed to weigh myself every day. But let's be realistic here. I'm fat. I've been fat most of my life. The scale has been the end all be all of weight loss or gain. It's hard to not get on it every morning with the hope that the numbers have gone down over night. It's not that I'm just watching what I eat and exercising. I had the majority of my stomach removed. I eat 400-600 calories a day (if that), and I exercise every day. Because of all this, I expect the scale to go down every day. But much to my amazement, it doesn't.
I've already written about how the numbers just don't add up. So, I am not going to address that again (even though I know my math isn't wrong!!). Now I am going to talk about our unrealistic goals when it comes to the scale. Or at least my unrealistic goals.
I am a reasonably intelligent person, who is of sound mind and body (most of the time). I know that stalls happen. I know that when you shock your body in the way that I did three weeks ago that my body will fight back. It's going to hold on to as much fat and water as it can as it thinks I'm starving it. I also know that I am gaining muscle which is leaner than fat. Notice how I didn't say that muscle weight more than fat? That because 1 pound equals one pound, no matter what the pound is of. One pound of fat is equal to one pound of feathers. So, for all the people who say this, please be aware that what you are saying is wrong. And, it really irks me. Not that you should care if it bothers me or not. It's not like you're ever going to meet me. But, even with all this knowledge, I still wake up every morning, pee, strip my clothes, exhale, and get on the scale. Isn't it funny how we've learned over the years to do all these little things in an attempt to have the scale read a lower number? And, since three days after surgery, the number on the scale hasn't changed. It's even gone up a pound or two at times. And to be honest, this has caused me more stress than the surgery has caused my body. I don't know how to handle the lack of movement. It's like I'm at a dance and everyone around me is moving and grooving and I am just standing there. I'm not even tapping my foot. It just doesn't make sense and I should be thrown off the dance floor.
This has caused me to have some unreasonable thoughts. Am I one of those people that surgery doesn't work for? If so, I'm going to be pissed. Now, not only will I not lose weight, I still can't eat food I like. That would just be a cruel, cruel joke. What did I do to ever deserve this? Am I just doing something really wrong? I am not sure how that's possible as I get my protein in and I do everything I've been taught in all my classes. I've even gone as far to think that maybe I am loosing too much weight that the scale can't understand what is going on so it stays on the same number just "because it can" . I know none of these thoughts make sense. I know I am a fool for thinking any of these but I just can't help it.
I am so obsessive about the number on the scale that I have begun to weigh myself throughout the day. Anytime I go into the bathroom, the thing is calling to me. It's like I'm dealing with a possessed electronic device and I've given into it with out any thought or use of any common sense. I swear I hear the voice from the "Exorcist" saying, "Come to me Tricia. Come stand on me. You know you want to. You can do. It only takes a second." Has the scale become my new obsession now that food can no longer be my anchor? And, if so, I have to admit that it's not making me feel as good as pizza, ice cream, or potato chips did. It actually makes me feel worse every time I use it. Then again, the food did the same thing but it took longer for me to feel bad about eating it. Now, I get the bad feelings but non of the reward (aka the good tasting food). So, after great thought and much consideration, I have decided that the scale is the devil. It is the down fall for so many of us. Even the ones who haven't had surgery. And with this knowledge, I've decided to take drastic measures to remove the temptation from my life.
So, I have thought about taking a sledge hammer to it. But there are two major issues with this approach. First, I don't own a sledge hammer and if I did, I am not sure I could life it. Aren't they really heavy? Second, after thinking about how much it cost and how much money I would just waste, I just can't do it. I can't waste money so "willie nillie". I don't' know about all of you, but I don't have loads of cash just hanging around. Because of that, I have to take care of the things I do own and there is no reason to damage something I know I will need again in the upcoming months. So, I plan to give it to my husband and have him hide it. That way, I won't waste the money that I don't have to waste nor will I end up in the hospital with my back going out from the weight of the sledgehammer that I don't own. This way, once a month I can pull it out and weigh myself.
No, my plan doesn't really "fix" my obsession. But it does take the thing that I'm obsessed with and remove it from my daily routine. I just hope I don't' turn into a "scale fend" and start ripping the house apart while screaming, "where is it? I know it's here somewhere? You don't understand, I need it. It's not bad for me. I promise to just use it this one time." But for some reason, i see this happening. Because, it doesn't matter what the addiction is, we all find ways to make it sound less bad for us.
So, I am going to head to the bathroom and pick up the scale and hand it over to my husband. I know he will be able to handle my craziness when I need my "fix". So, here I go, I am just going to march in there, pick it up and hand it to him. After I pee, strip my clothes off, and exhale just one more time. Come on, doesn't every one need that "last fix?"
I don't know why I did it, maybe it was the pretty blue color that was calling my name. Maybe it was the infomercials showing all these woman with great arms. Maybe it was just to try one out and see if it works. Much to my husband's amusement, I did it, I bought a shake weight. My husband found this his opportunity to quote South Park and laugh at my purchase. I have to admit, the Shake Weight episode of South Park is one of the funniest ones I've ever seen. if you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it. With all that being said, I can now say I am proud owner of a light blue shake weight and despite what the infomercials say, it's not as easy as it looks.
First, it comes with a warning. I am not sure what the warning said as I ripped it off and threw it aside as I digressed into a five year old at Christmas and tore the box apart in an attempt to get to my new toy. Once I had it out, I began to shake. I followed the photos that were included in the box and I noticed a few things. First, if my Wii controller comes with a warning and a string to wear around wrist, then you would think and three pound bar that you shake while aiming at your face would come with some safety precautions as well. But it doesn't. Instead, it comes with mirrors on each end so you can see yourself as the bar flies up and hits you square in the mouth, breaking your front teeth, and causing your lip to swell up to double it size. I mean why else would they have the shinny mirrors on the ends?
Second, there is NO WAY you can do this exercise with out it looking sexual. I tried. The whole concept is some strange joke on all women. I think it's a ploy for us to be better at using our hands for "massages". If you ask any man, they will tell you woman can't massage that well...even though they tell us how good it feels. I think this exercise bar was invented so that men didn't have to sit (or lay) through a bad massage ever again. Now, think about this. Think about the positions the Shake Weight wants you to do. Each hand, two hands in front of your chest, off to the side and towards your face, and behind the head. Ok, I can't figure out this position, except that it gives men a great view of our chest as it bounces up and down as we are busy trying not to slam the Shake Weight into your head.
So, with all this knowledge, I still shake away. I am hoping my arms will become these beautiful cut arms that are only possible with Photoshop. I know it will take a lot of shaking and possibly a lot of bangs to the head and face, but I'm going to get my 15 bucks out of this thing. Then again, it could just be my concussion talking.
* 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.
