Today's post isn't about weight loss. It's about me and my husband learning to adjust to living with cats. First, you have to understand that neither he nor I are cat people. Please, let me explain. In 1997. after graduating from college, I got a dog. Bear (I didn't name him), was black lab, boarder collie mix. He was full of life and the most loving animal I have ever known. I found Bear in a local paper and when I left to go look at him, my mother's last words to me were, "DO NOT bring him home if he's nothing but a ball of energy!". So, I set off to take a look at this dog that I more than likely wouldn't bring home. All I knew was he was between three and four years old and he was a black lab mix.
Once I got to the home, this big bouncing ball of fur pounced out the door and on to me. All he wanted was to to be played with and loved on. There was something about him that told me I couldn't leave him there. So, after assuring the owner he was in good hands and giving my vet. references, I said the magic words, " Wanna go bye-bye?" That was it. He took off towards my car in a full stride. By the time I caught I up to him, I could see him sitting by the car door, tail wagging, and what to me looked like a smile on his face. To be honest, I felt really bad for the owner, who was in tears. I could tell she loved this dog. The only other thing I knew was that she was going through a tough divorce and that she could not have Bear in her new place. So, with another jump, he was in my back seat and we were off to my house.
Once home, many things became obvious. The first was that he had not come from a loving and caring home. I believe the woman did love and try to care for him, but he was scared to death of men. My father would try to play with him and he would whimper and hide. The same thing would happen if my father or anyone would try to throw food to him. Other than these signs, he was a loving, caring, empathetic creature who seemed to be very happy to be in his new home.
Over the years, Bear and I moved on. He watched me go on many dates and never seemed to give any of the men the time of day. If I would have a date over, Bear would stay near me, but he would never engage anyone. That is until my husband. On our first date, we ended back at my place to play Trivia Pursuit. I later found this was a test of my intelligence....thank goodness I passed. It was when Scott sat down that the strangest thing happened. Bear, jumped up on the couch and placed his head in Scott's lap. It was as thought Bear was trying to tell me to give this one a chance. To be honest, I am not sure if it wasn't for Bear if I would have even thought about going out with him again. I guess there are just somethings dogs know that we don't.
That brings me to 10 years later. Scott and I are living together and I am an hour away visiting my parents when I receive a text message. It's a photo of Scott holding this tiny orange kitten. Now, i wasn't too shocked as even though we are no cat people, we are humane. This kitten had been outside in the cold for awhile. We had been feeding it and even gave it a safe, warm place to sleep. Apparently, that wasn't good enough. While my husband was getting firewood, this kitten decided to walk right inside, past the dog, and jump up on the couch and take a nap. Despite my attempts to find a home for him, he seemed to nudge his way in our lives and hearts. It took a little longer for Bear to be as open with him but once they learned to live together, things were fine.
Then, a year later, my husband and I are watching T.V. when we hear what sounds like a baby screaming. Because at the time, we lived in a not so nice place, we allowed the sound to go on for a few minutes. When we knew it wasn't going to stop, it dawned on us that it wasn't a child but a kitten making this heart wrenching noise. Sure enough, when we opened out front door, we found a kitten, around four to five weeks old. It had been thrown down the steps to our door. In the process, it had broken it's leg, busted three teeth, and peed itself. Needless to say, we couldn't allow it to suffer. So, as i went to get food for the little thing, my husband (a trained EMT), reset the kitten's leg and wrapped it. Bear became very protective of Bandit (the new cat) from the moment she came in our house. I think he knew she was abused and he remembered what that was like. Bear refused to leave her side and though he was too old to jump up on the bed to lay next to her, he did stand guard next to the bed. Every time she would jump down to use the bathroom or explore, Bear was right there to watch out for her.
Then a year later, when Bear was 19 1/2, yes you read that right, he passed away from a brain tumor. When we brought home his ashes, Bandit curled up next to him and refused to leave his side. She became his protector and it was obvious she missed him. This was the most heart wrenching and loving thing I have ever seen.
Now, all that was to tell you this. Though my husband and I are not cat people, these two cats really did help us through the loss of our dear friend, Bear. However, it is times like this morning where I wonder if maybe we should have tried a little harder to find another home for them. Let me explain.
It's 3am. My husband and I are all cozy asleep in bed when Hunter (the orange cat) decided he wants to walk on us and kneed us. In my half awake state, I move him down towards my feet and begin to fall back asleep. I can feel him walking on the bed again, but since I'm almost back in REM state, I don't really care. Then I hear it. The blood curdling screams from the man I love. Apparently, Hunter, decided to use my husband's chest as a scratching post. Trust me, it's bad enough to be scratched by a cat but it's even worse when you're dead asleep and get woken up by razor sharp nails digging into your chest and face. The words I hear coming from the half asleep man next me are too risque to type here, but I am sure you can all get an idea of what he said. So, as my husband gets out of bed to care for the gashes in his chest and face, I have to smile. Not becasue my husband was hurt, but becasue I know that with out these two animals in our lives, I am not sure how we could have ever handled Bear passing away as well as we did. It's funny, we thought we were saving them, but in reality, they saved us......now if I could just get them to behave more like dogs we'd all be happier and my husband would be less scared.
Today is almost my three month point. Also, I have my 20th high school reunion coming up so I figured it was a good time to go shopping. Now I have no idea what size I wear or where I should shop. So, I called my mother. I always like to have someone with me that will be completely honest and tell me I look like a teenage wannabe, or I'm trying to wear a size WAY to small or WAY to big. Mom will always be honest. Sometimes a little too honest. One time she told me not to buy something because my boobs looked to big. That's what I liked about the shirt. Needless to say, I bought it.
Anyway, today I started at Lane Bryant. You all know the Big Girl store. I found some things I liked and grabbed a couple different sizes. To my amazement, I fit into a 14/16 shirt, and a 16 or 18 pants (depending on the cut). I can't tell you the last time I wore anything that size. Especially for my shirts. At that moment, shopping began to be fun. I started to understand why people love shopping....I could totally get into this shopaholic thing.
Then I went to Old Navy. Now, understand that the only thing I used to be able to buy here was a men's XXXL sweatshirt. Well, today, I was able to fit into the woman's polo shirts (XXL), woman's jeans (size 18), and an XL woman's sweatshirt. Now, here's the funny thing. Being big for most of my life, I've always worn very baggy clothes. Because even though we all know baggy clothes don't hide anything, we feel more comfortable and let's be honest, we're hiding behind those extra baggy shirts and pants. So, when I came out to look in the mirror wearing these clothes that were the correct size and fit me the way they were supposed to, I felt so exposed. It took me awhile to get that this is what I am supposed to wear and how I am supposed to look. Trust me, it's crazy. I really had to look at the emotional issues that come with being fat. Then, I said "screw that" I'm losing weight and doing well. I have the body I would have died for when I was 25. I'm curvy, and yes I have more weight to lose, but I am going embrace my new body and not hide it being my XXXL sweatshirt.
Well, apparently embracing my body cost $300. I embraced it in new bras, underwear, jeans, pants, sweats, and shoes. I also made sure that none of those things were baggy or hiding anything. Everything I bought showed my body in a tasteful way. However, the only person who will see the panties and bras will be my husband....and he'll be happy to hear that my cup size is still a DD. He was so worried about that. LOL
So, now that I told you about my wonderful day, I have to tell you that I have been kind of down. My scale number has not really moved over the past month and a half. If goes up and down between five pounds. Now, I KNOW that I am working out more and gaining muscle and that my body is changing but I still want that number to go down. I want to be under 200 so badly, I can't even explain it. The last time I was under 200 I was in high school and I was working out all the time and barely eating. But, right now that's my goal and I am so upset that I'm not getting any closer to it. But, going today and seeing how my body is changing even if the scale isn't going down makes me feel REALLY GOOD. So, I decided to stop worrying about that number on the scale and enjoy my body and my new clothes. Now, I just have to figure out what I'm going to wear first.
I have had a really busy summer. I had my friend and her daughter visit in May. Then in June, they returned with her husband. Now, I have a a friend coming over from Ireland for two weeks and while she's here, I have my brother in law and his daughter visiting for two nights as well. Now, please know that I love everyone that is visiting and I wouldn't have it any other way. The issue is that I put so much pressure on myself to make my home look clean and welcoming. 10 years ago, I could clean my house from top to bottom, scrub the floors, clean the bathrooms, do laundry, make the beds, do dishes, and finally finish it all with dusting and vacuuming. Well, 10 years ago, my back wasn't as bad and I could wake up and have the house all done by 4pm. I would end the day by taking a shower and then getting a beer or glass of wine and relaxing on the couch while I looked around and admired my work.
That's not even an option now. My back has made it so that I have to clean in spurts. Because I have procrastinated, tomorrow, I will have to suck up the pain and attack the dirt and clutter with no mercy. Now, I know my home isn't 'dirty", it's more cluttered than anything. I also have the issue that we have no storage area, so there are many things that I would throw out, but my husband SWEARS he needs that empty box in case one day it's worth money. Yes, that's all true. I have boxes of empty game boxes for him. I have found a place to store them, but if I had my way, they would all be out side in the trash.
You all know that becasue this is how I feel, what will happen is one day, he will sell a game with the box and we'll have $10,000. Then I'll have to hear, "I told you so" for the rest of my life. Oh, I can't wait. LOL
Ok, back to cleaning. Because I know what I have to do tomorrow, and becasue I am stressed with all I have to do before my Irish friend gets here Thursday night, I now am not able to fall asleep. So, tomorrow, I will be in pain, tired, and I will have to clean for a guest. This should be fun. The problem is I know what will happen. By the time my husband gets home from work, I will be so exhausted that I will either break down sobbing (and then have to worry about the sinus issues), or I will start a fight with him for no reason except I want to yell at someone. Gosh I hope I cry.
For now, I think I will go to bed now. I will wake up around 9 or 10. I will do the laundry, dishes, and kitchen floor. Then I will do the bathrooms (quickly), and then go to the pool. Once I am done at the pool, I can come back, dust, and vacuum. Then I will make the house "company ready". You know what I mean: towels folded perfect and the bed made perfect, books placed in the perfect spot as well as a candle. I hope I'm not the only one who attempts to make my home look like it's in Good Housekeeping becasue if I am, I need more help than I thought. LOL Then on Thursday, I will relax and wait for her arrival.
Yes, that sounds perfect. Problem is, I know tomorrow, I will totally mess this up and will still be running around like a chicken with his heard cut off right to the point she walks through the door. Then I will say the words we all say to company. "I'm so sorry the house is a mess, please just ignore it." Yes, that will have to do.
Merry Christmas Everyone. Ok, I'm a day late and a dollar or two short but it's the thought that counts. Hope you all enjoyed a wonderful day with family and friends. I had a very interesting and different Christmas than I normally have...but I have to say, it seemed to end with wonderful memories and a great story to tell when I'm old and frail.
So, my day started tthe same as it normaly does on Christmas. Nothing really exciting. Due to finacial reasons, my husband and I did not exchanged gifts so there was no "under the tree excitment" to be had here. Not that it's a bad thing at all. We've always said that as long as we have each other, we don't need much else. I mean having a roof over our heads is REALLY nice and I wouldn't want to give it up but if we had to...well, then we would have to figure something out...TOGETHER.
Now, my normal day consists of going to my parent's house for Christmas dinner with my sister and her family (husband and four children). I was really looking forward to the family time until I made the call to my parents to wish them a merry Christmas. What do I hear? Phlem!! Lots and lots of it. Not only can my mother barely talk, I hear my father in the back ground doing the same thing. Long story short....Christmas at the Morgan's is CANCELED unltil further notice. So, my husband and I venture out to find something to cook for dinner. I didn't have anything that would rise to occasion of a "Christmas Meal" so I figured i would go get either lamb, prime rib, or a ham...yes, I know one of these things is not like the other...but hey, at least it's not CHICKEN!!!! LOL
So, we go store to store...meaning we went to two (we live in a small town) and much to my surprise, they were closed. We even went by our 24-7 Walmart and that was closed too. HUMMMM...now what? Again, we take a mental inventory of what we have in the freezer....CHICKEN...and maybe some hamburg. Neither seems worthy of a Christmas feast. So, I get an idea...let's see if the Chinesse place is open today. Sure enough it is. Yippie. Looks like we will have our own version of "A Christmas Story" this year.
So, around 2 I call and place our order. Not sure why I odered so much but I am sure my husband can handle most of it. I also figured due to my Christmas day food intake already, i would be able to pack more than normal away in my little tummy. I am still not sure where all the extra room came from. So, we changed our clothes so that we wouldn't be eating in our P.J's, took the five mile drive to the Chinesse store and picked up our food. Once home, my hubby set the table (as best he could at the last minute) and we sang...."Fa Ra Ra Ra Ra, Ra Ra, Ra, Ra." I figured it would be very insensitive to ask the people at the resturaunt to sing "Deck the Halls" like in the movie...I mean it is a complete stereotype and I in no way wanted (or want) to offend anyone. Then, we ate...and laughed...and talked. We talked about how sometimes the best memories come from an unexpected change of plans. And to be honest...I agree.
After dinner, we enjoyed a bottle of wine and some ciders. Took some photos and watched "A Christmas Story." Around 9:30, I went to bed with a full tummy, a fuzzy head, and a huge smile on my face. Don't get me wrong, i would have loved to spend the day with my family and I wish they weren't sick...but it's nice to have a story to tell for years to come.
I hope you all made your own memories yesterday and I hope they were good ones. Merry Christmas everyone!!!
This was our Christmas Feast....notice, there is no peaking duck
This is my meal...and no, I didn't finish it all. LOL
Me Showing off my Husband't "lighting skills' (3rd floor) Also, I find it so funny that when I saw this photo I was like, "WOW, I'm thin!!!" And, I said that while wearing sweats that were two sizes too big, a huge oversized sweat shirt, and a bulky coat...again...too big. Funny how times have changed. LOL
And of course, the chopstick shot
Last one...Me by the tree
I have never had really bad PMS. Don't get me wrong, there were times I snapped for no reason or I would make my husband feel as though he should just hide away for a week or so, but real PMS, the kind that causes women to scream so that your hair stands on end, or the kind that turns that sweet person you've known and love into the devil.....I wasn't that type of PMSer. Now, I did have my moments. I would snap, but most of the time I realized why I was acting a certain way, I would apologize, and things would get better.
Since surgery, that is not the case at all. With all the hormones swimming through my body, my little snaps have become full on attacks. I can put any actress from any t.v. show or movie, who have had to show PMS to shame. I am worse than any Miadol commercial and trust me, Miadol wouldn't be able to help me even if I took the whole box. My husband's voice can sound like finger nails on a blackboard sometimes. Whom am I kidding, any voice can sound like that to me....even my own. The doctor told me this would happen, but I didn't really think she meant THIS bad.
The worst thing is that I am soooooo hungry and have been for two days now. My stomach is a bottomless pit. I want to eat everything. I want candy bars, ice cream, potato chips and pretzels. I want anything to eat besides protein. Well, I know I can't have those things which makes me even more grumpy (not sure how that's possible, but it is). So, how do I deal with this? I eat almonds and my roasted chickpeas and then there is Nutella. Now, for the record, I've never been a huge chocolate fan. It I did have chocolate, it was only becasue there were nuts and caramel under it....and sometimes a nugut filling, if I was lucky. But, as we all know by now, our taste buds change. Mine have decided that Nutella is now my PMS candy. I usually get about 5-10 pretzel stixs and 1tbs of Nutella (usually I can't finish this, but I want to ). I know this isn't something I shouldn't be eating but right now I don't care. It makes me less of a Bi_h. My husband would give me an IV of it if he could.
The worst part of all this is that I don't want to fall into old habits. So far I haven't gone out and gotten ice cream, a candy bar (king size), and some chips to eat in one sitting. Hey, don't judge, PMS is no joke and PMS after surgery is a horror movie with everyone waiting for the blood bath so that things can go back to normal. Ok, back on topic. I am so scared that I will that person that is bigger in two years than I was when I started this process. It scared me more than I even want to admit at times. I know by keeping that fear close to me, It should help me not make horrible food choices. I am hoping that next month I can have an apple and peanut butter, or some other type of fruit to stop the craving but until then, I am saying that the PMS made me do it. I know it's all a lie and I'm in charge of what goes in my body, but since I'm not my normal self right now, it is so much easier for me to blame the PMS than to get upset with myself. Because, to be honest even I don't want to deal with me while I'm PMSing...... didn't I tell you how bi__hy that person is?
Also, just an FYI. Fitnesspal.com is really helpful during this time of the month (it's good all month) as if I am honest and I put in everything I've put in my mouth to eat, I can see how just those little nibbles add up and what is causing me not to lose the weight I went through so much to loose. I wasn't completely honest with it yesterday...I mean how do you put in picking at my husband's dinner? It was the fist time I ate soemthing I didn't weigh. But, now I see the error of my weighs (pun intended). If I can't be honest with myself about what goes in my body how can I even think about loosing this weight? So, today I have been honest about what I have eaten. One good thing is that even though I am still PMSing, I refuse to go over my daily allowance of calories, so I am more aware of what goes in my mouth.
Now, before I get tons of comments about how I am on a slippery slope and what I've done is SOOOOOOO bad for me (STOP YOURSELF FROM TYPING THOSE THOUGHTS), I do know that I made a mistake...PMS or not....and I am working on changing my PMSY ways. However, I do not believe in depriving your body and if once a month I want to eat nutella two days a week, then I will. Trust me, I can't eat more than 1tbs a sitting so I know I won't overdose on the stuff.
Now, it's time to get back at making my husband's life hell. Good thing he loves me, becasue I think I would have left me by now. I know how bad I am being but I just can't help myself.....I mean it, I really can't stop it from happening. I feel the anger build up and the therapist in me says, "Ok Trish, don't say anything. You're not your normal self. Just let it go." and then the PMS person says, "SCREW YOU, THOUGHTS". Then I proceed to be mean. I can't wait for my body to get used to these hormones. No one should have to deal with me like this, especially the man I love and who must really love me or else he would have been gone last month when it happened. Hopefully today is the last day of the horror movie aka "PMS IN THE SHOCKLEY HOUSE" It's really draining being this mean and unhappy for this long.
Today I want to talk about photographs and memories..(cue Jim Croce). I have been looking back at photos trying to see just how much my body has changed since April and you know what I found? NOTHING. Apparently fat people don't like having their body photographed...who knew? LOL
So, I started thinking back and I clearly remember telling people to only photograph my face...or my chest up. I didn't want my stomach or any other part of my body placed in a digital image...or if you're old school, on film. I can't even remember when I was ever happy with having someone take a full body picture of me. There are a few of me in high school where I look good and happy and maybe some from college but to be honest, I don't' think I ever liked seeing my body in a photograph. That is until now.
Now, I am not saying I'm tiny or ready to try out for "Next Top Model", but I will say, "DAMN!!!! I LOOK GOOD". LOL Does that make me sound cocky or full of myself? Maybe I should just say, "WOW, looking good.". I even look back to photos taken this summer, only a few months after surgery and I can see a huge difference in my body. The scale hasn't gone down a huge amount, but my body is changing....and I love seeing the changes. So, I figured I would share some of my body shots with you all...and even a few close ups. the close ups are funny to me becasue I look like a totally different person.
But here's my real question. How are you all feeling about photos of yourself? Are you more apt to get in the photos now? Are you shocked at what you see? I can't wait to hear your thoughts on this as I can't be the only one who has to change my thought process when it comes to photos. I am still aiming mostly for my face when in a picture....but when I do get that one in a few body shot....I'm pretty happy with what I see.
This Summer
New Years Eve
Trying to be a little sexy for hubby
Old face shot (before surgery)
New Face
Now, i can't wait to look back another nine months and compare again. No matter how difficult this can be at time...it is so worth the ride....just make sure you take pictures so you have the memories.
My husband works IT for Comcast. He loves his job and the thing I love is that he comes home with random swag. He's brought home new DVDs, shirts, coasters, even a "Rome" robe. The other day, he came home with a typical Comcast tee-shirt. It's nothing exciting...just another shirt. But then I looked at it. It looked REALLY small. According to the tag its' a large but I promise you, it looks more like a medium than any large I've ever seen. I tried it on and to my surprise, it's not that tight on me. That doesn't mean I would wear it out in public or even take a photo of myself in for the blog. What it does mean is that I now have a new non-scale goal to achieve.
It couldn't have come at a better time as I had already met my other non scale goals and now they were all too big on me. I'm not complaining at all but it is nice to have that one thing you strive for other than a number on a scale. Then, I read the shirt. It was more than just an Xfinity shirt...it had a message just for me...."The Future Of Awesome"!!! Isn't that just the perfect goal shirt? Then, to make it even more "awesome, I lightened my hair (a reward for meeting a goal). So, even though I am already awesome....it's nice to strive for something that makes me even more so!!!! Oh, and before I forget. I did meet a REALLY big non scale goal today. I was able to dry my sweatshirt and still have it fit. LOL It hasn't been dried since I've owned it and now it's all nice and soft and a little smaller but still baggy on me. Love that feeling!!!!
The Shirt
LOL
The New Hair
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.
I have always been very "normal" when it comes to going number 2. Ok, stop laughing. Yes, I am going to talk about bowel movements. I have always said I would be honest and open and this is something EVERYONE does. There is no need to be ashamed or shocked. If you feel uncomfortable reading about this, move on to another blog. I won't take it personal.
Ok, now that I've told everyone what's coming down the pipe (pun intended) we should all be ready for an open and frank discussion about poop. It's something that everyone does and after surgery, I have found that I do it much less than before. I used to go once or even twice a day. There were times where after a good poop (you know the kind I am talking about....the ones where when you're done you feel like you've lost five to ten pounds) I would feel lighter and have a little more energy. Now, I barely go. Then, to top it off, it's never easy. I can't just get the feeling and go sit on the toilet for five or ten minutes. Nope, I get the feeling and end up spending a half an hour in there listening to "plop, plop,plop." It's never a nice S shape poop that you hear Dr. Oz always talk about. It's more like there is a very large rabbit in my colon. And, I have the poop to prove it. Well, I don't have it sitting next to me in a bowl or anything. That would just be gross. I just mean that when I do poop it comes out in small little nuggets. I have tried everything. I have added fiber to my drinks, taken stool softeners, and even laxatives. The only change is that the little things come out a little easier.
Now, the reason I am writing about this is to see if anyone else is having this issue and if so how are you dealing with it. Also, is this normal and does it get better over time. I will be honest, I don't think I can live with a rabbit in my colon for the rest of my life....I don't care how thin I am. Wait, I take that back. I used to say I would do anything to be thin....I guess little nugget poop is my "anything".
As a social worker I have counseled many different types of people. I have counseled teenagers (my favorite), young children, addicts, adults, families, relationships (well the people in them), and just about any other type of person you can think of. I facilitated one on one sessions as well as group sessions and I loved both. However, I did enjoy facilitating group counseling the most. Seeing the dynamics of a group and watching it come together to help everyone involved in the group is an amazing thing. I have also always been a true believer that group counseling works becasue people listen to others who are going through or have been through the same issues they are going through. As a counselor, it's not really professional for me to tell clients what I've experienced personally but in a group setting, once trust is developed, the pure honesty that comes from the participants is better than any counseling I can give one on one...no matter how good I am at my job...and trust me, I'm good!!! LOL
Now, after reading that, I am sure you will find it comical that I have never been a fan of group counseling for myself. Leading the group is one thing but being part of the group and being completely open and honest with people I don't know is something far different. It falls in the "Do as I say, not as I do" category. Now, mentally I know group therapy works. I know it's far better than any one on one counseling session. But I still have never been able to bring myself to be part of a group counseling session for any reason. This is why when my doctor gave me a schedule for the local weight loss surgery groups in my area I politely smiled, said "thank you" and then gently placed it in the the garbage can when she left the room. I'm a very strong woman and the thought of being in a group listening to people cry over not being able to eat that candy bar, or better yet, eating the candy bar that they bought (even though they KNEW it was bad for them) is not on the top of my list of fun ways to spend an evening. This journey is tough enough that I don't need to hear people wine every week about their cravings. We all have cravings....we all know how to deal with them....either find something else to do or give into it. If you chose to give into it DO NOT CRY over the melted chocolate and stringy caramel that is now smeared all over your face. Trust me, tears and melted chocolate DO NOT mix well. I know that from personal history. Add ice cream to the mix and you just have a big ole mess and no one wants ice cream with tears in it. The tears take away the pure sugary taste and add salt....not good I tell you (again, personal experience) I know I sound mean and rude, and I don't mean to. I am just being honest about how I feel about these things. If I offended anyone, please hear me out before you write me a hateful comment.
With all that out there, I still believe we all need some type of support to help us through this. If groups work for you than that is great. I know they work for many people and can be used as an amazing tool. If you get enough support from your family and friends then you are very lucky as many things I've read on this site have shown me that many families aren't supportive (even significant others who seem to almost work against the person who is going through this life change). I have been very lucky. I have great friends and an amazing family and husband that have given me more support than anyone could ask for. They are all great at seeing the weight loss and noticing the changes in my food choices. But, and this is a BIG but, they don't REALLY understand what it's like to go through this EVERY day. They don't understand the mental lashing we give ourselves if we didn't make it to the gym, or if we went over out calorie goal for the day (even if we only went over by 20 calories). And let's be honest, sometimes the ones closest to us just don't know how to say the right thing (as shown below)
Being overweight, we become very good at mentally abusing ourselves. No matter how big the smile on our face is, it's only hiding the constant negative thoughts bouncing around the rubber room known as the brain. "Why did I eat that?" "You're never going to lose weight", "Maybe I supposed to be fat since I haven't lost anything in a month".....and so many more. Some of the inner attack thoughts can get so bad that we end up sobbing only to tell anyone who asks that we're crying due to PMS. I mean who wants to admit to anyone (especially the people we love the most) that the surgery was the easiest part....it's the mental stuff that will take so much longer to overcome than the learning to eat properly.
So, being of semi sound mind and body, I have to admit....I found my own type of group counseling, and it works great for me!!! I am on Myfitnesspal.com and though it took me awhile to ask for "friends", I am so glad I did. It's amazing what having a group of people who are going through EXACTLY what I'm going through has done for me. Seeing others with the same thoughts and the same concerns makes me feel not as crazy. Also, having people who know how difficult this is, cheering you on for ever little step, is amazing. I truly feel as though I have found my "sisters in weight loss". They build me up when I'm having a bad day, they listen and answer questions (no matter how far out there), and I do the same for them. Having these relationships that are truly 50/50 has made this process so much easier. It's made me feel not as alone or misunderstood. I enjoy logging in to the site to log in my food intake and seeing how others are doing on their journey. I love reading their positive reinforcements that they leave for others and for me. I love being able to give them the same type of positive reinforcement. I love having support!!! It's even better when the support is better than any I've found from a bra since my surgery. No matter how hard I try, these suckers need more than an under-wire and some positive reinforcement from me to stay up and at attention. (Sorry for the side bar)
So, it's official, I'm a changed woman. I have found to love the one thing I was never a fan of (for me). By being open to it, I have made some great new friends and I feel like this people have my back...no matter how big or small it is. They are all amazing people who are doing exactly what I am....trying to get healthy and lose weight....and if in the process I meet some great new people....well, that's just a wonderful bonus and that's one dish I'll go back for seconds for every time!!!!
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.
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.
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
Last night, I was making myself some dinner as well as making my husband a PB&J sandwich. So, I went to the fridge, pulled out the jelly (who am I kidding, it's "fruit spread"), and BAM it happened. The "jelly" flew out of my hand and went straight down. It was like a missile locked in on my big toe and once it left my hand, it found it's target. I did the whole, "OUCH" thing and cursed and jumped around on one foot for a few seconds but then I saw it. The blood. LOTS OF BLOOD. Where is THAT coming from I wondered. I decided it was now a good time to take a better look at the fruit spread's target. There it was. The top of the spread (the very hard plastic part) landed smack dab in the middle of my toe nail. This in turn caused my nail to break straight across and at the same time cause the broken nail to cut into my skin under the nail. Hence, the blood.
So, I did what any intelligent, independent, take charge woman would do. I picked up my cell phone and called my husband, who was driving home from work. Now, I know there was nothing he could do for me, and I knew I could take care of this by myself, but I didn't want to. I wanted to be weak and I wanted him to get home ASAP so he could fix it. Just my luck, he was forty minutes away. That means I have to be the independent woman I know I am and take charge and deal with it. So I did just that. I cleaned it up, and wrapped it up so that I could get the bleeding to stop. I knew I would have to wait for him to get home to make it look all nice and pretty so I took the time to finish making my dinner (not his). I wasn't going to give that missile another shot at my other foot.
So, my husband finally comes in. I'm sitting on the loveseat with my foot up (big bandage on it), a plate on my lap and just as happy as a lark. He took one look at me and said, "really, I rushed home for this?" Then he saw the toe. And like the wonderful husband he is, he babied me for about 5 mins. I enjoyed every second of it.
Now, I told you all that to tell you this. That cleaning I was supposed to get done today...let's just say it hasn't even started. I woke up at 9am like I planed. Then I laid on the couch to wake up while I watched T.V. Apparently, it took me until 3pm to wake up. I slept the WHOLE day away. How is that possible? Now I am trying to figure out what I HAVE to get done and what I can just leave the way it is.
I am going to blame the fruit spread for this one. IF it hadn't of jumped out of my hand (yes, it jumped) and landed on my toe, I wouldn't have had to recover from the trauma it inflicted on me and I wouldn't have slept until 3pm. Plus, it's easy to blame something with no feelings....but I'm still upset with that spread and if it's not careful, I may just squeeze it all out and throw it away. that will teach it a lesson. LOL
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.
When I started my WLS journey, I never expected to be a blogger. If you would have told me three months ago that I would be typing out my weight loss funny moments....and some not so funny moments, I would have told you that I thought you had lost your mind. Well, I would have been wrong. The other day I checked to see how many visits I have had and I was shocked to see that in only three months, you all have read my blog 10,000 times. DANG.....that's a lot of reading. Thank you so much for the support, and I hope I can continue to make you laugh and smile throughout our journeys together. I finally understand why Sally Fields said, "You like me. You really like me." It wasn't ego....it was pure shock.
Ok, now that I got done with all the sappy stuff. Stay tuned as I plan to write about my exploits from the past few days. I will explain that getting drunk isn't anything like it used to be....and I still have the ability to fall for no reason. Can't wait to write about my 20th H.S. reunion and let you all know how great it felt to be around the same size I was in H.S. So many stories....so little time. Stay tuned.
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.
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.
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.
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 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
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.
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?"
I was in the process of writing this very depressing blog about my chronic back pain when I had to use the bathroom. I decided when I was done that I should weigh myself as I haven't done that in awhile. Now before I go on, you have to understand that the past month has been nothing but pain filled. My meds have not helped me and I have not been able to go for normal walks...who am I kidding, i haven't really walked at all. Walking from the bedroom to the living room can almost bring me to tears (and I don't cry from pain). Dealing with this pain can bring even the strongest person down. I know, I've been dealing with it for almost 18 years. Now, I don't tell you that to get your sympathy. I tell you to get you to understand that getting on the scale was the best thing I could have done for my emotional well being today.
Today, the scale said 240.2. That is fifty nine pounds down in nine weeks. I had to take a second look. I remember getting on the scale nine months ago and seeing it up to 330 (my heaviest). Seeing that scale today, and the amount I have lost, is exactly what I needed to make me feel a little better. I am not saying that the numbers took away my pain. Trust me, it did not. But it did help with my mood. I walked out of the bathroom, sat back down at the computer with the heating pad on full blast for my back and erased my depression felt blog post about my pain and not being able to work out. I have since written this. A much more up beat blog post about losing the weight I have struggled with for years and years. It's funny how seeing a few pounds leave can be so inspirational.
Now, I have no funny things to add. No real words of inspiration. To be honest, the pain is still making it difficult to sit here and type. What I will say is this. I am pretty sure my day will be much better now that I decided to get on the scale today (first time in over a week). I have no idea when I could have ever said those words and truly meant them. For years, the scale is what caused my days to be worse. Not anymore. Getting sleeved is the best decision I've ever made!
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.
