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.
After posting my blog about my toe, I decided that it would be a great idea to post a photo of my husband's handywork. This is why I like him taking care of my wounds. He seems to know how to make them look all pretty. Sorry you have to see my feet and my really small little toe nails. Also, sorry for the bad polish removal. Ok, I think I am done with my sorrys for the day.
I can't believe he did it. My husband actually hid my scale. What am I going to do? Does he not know I NEED that scale daily? I know I read the last post to him, but I didn't really think he would take it away and hide it. I noticed as I was peeing. I looked down and where the pretty digital scale used to sit, there was nothing but an empty floor. Flooring can't tell me how much I way. Doesn't he know this?
When I finished, I came out and sat down and had a little talk with my dear husband. he told me he would bring it out once a week for weigh ins. My response (and this is no lie), "What if you bring it out on my 'fat' day"? Then what?" With out missing a beat, he said, "Then I guess I will have to change days." Sometimes I hate him for being so fast on his feet. So, for now I am going through withdraw. Wish me luck. I know I can make it through this, but I also know how hard it's going to be. Anyone out there want to do the once a week weigh in with me? That may help knowing that other people have to wait for their weight too. Let me know and we can go through this together. I still can't believe he did it though. LOL
I know not to expect miracles. I think we all know the weight won't just disappear over night. Then why is it that I get so discouraged over a number? Maybe a better way to say this is that I get so discouraged over the lack of downward movement of the number. How is it that pre-op the weight just "fell" off and even post-op, the first few days it seemed to "melt" away. Now, it's been stuck on the same number for the past seven days? As I am writing this, my common sense and intelligence is saying, "Trish, you have got to be be kidding me!!! You have lost 35lbs during pre-op and after surgery (only 13 days ago...total amount of time???? 28 days!!!). I know that I shouldn't freak out. The person in me with common sense wants to just slap the crazy girl who wants to see all these changes back to the middle ages, where scales didn't have so much power. I KNOW I'm crazy (unrealistic is a better term) for wanting to see the scale drop every day, but I can't help it. And, I know I am not the only person who is like this. When did our obsession with the scale become so unrealistic? When did the number on a scale start to have so much meaning and so much power over us?
So, I started thinking, "where does this obsession come from?". At what point did I learn that these expectations were fine to have?. Should I follow all the psychology theories out there and blame my parents? Freud would say it has something to do with my sexuality but I don't' really think we need to be taking advice from a man high on opioids and itching for his next fix. Do I blame society and the media? Do I blame myself? I think a little blame goes to all of the above.
Now, before you attack me for saying my parents have some part in this, just hear me out. Our parents were bombarded with Jane Fonda workouts, the cabbage diet, Gene Simmons, weight watchers, and the constant reminder that the perfect plate came in 1/3s. 1/3 of the plate was protein, 1/3 was starch, and 1/3 was veggies or fruit. They were told to drink 4 glasses of milk a day and that eggs were good for us...then bad...and now, apparently they are good for us again. There was no "pink slim" in our burgers, no hormones in our meat, and our veggies didn't come from other countries and somehow defy the laws of biology and not rot for two to three weeks at a time. What do they put on these veggies anyway? Is there some supper "look younger" cream for veggies that women don't know about yet? If so, they need to bottle it up as I am sure they would make a lot more money with that then with the veggies. Sidebar* I bought some grapes, came home and put them int he fridge. A month and a half latter, I "found them" behind some other things. To my shock they looked and felt as though I bought them yesterday. I told myself right then and there that I wouldn't be buying my fruits and veggies from a certain grocery store again. That was just creepy. Ok, back to the parents. The had no reason to think McDonald's food was bad for us. I mean according to the commercials, everything was freshly made. Fresh= good for us. The federal government and media shoved all this information down their thoughts with very little thought of giving any real explanation. It's like giving a bike to a child who can't read and telling them to follow the instructions. The child compromises and just looks at the pictures to get the bike together. If there are left over parts, they just get thrown back int he box and you pray the bike doesn't fall apart while you're in the middle of a 2 foot jump off a homemade ramp. (My father was the king of doing this. I don't think he ever put something together where there wasn't left over parts floating around when he was done. Now, I am married to a man who does the same thing. Lucky for us, nothing has ever just fallen apart so they must be doing something right.
The only good part of what our parent's learned and saw was that in the magazines and on t.v., the models looked that normal people. They were not a size <0, or airbrushed to look more like a barbie doll and less like a person. The photos I saw as a child were not unrealistic. Christie Brinkley was thin but in shape. She didn't look as though she starved herself. It was a great "thin role model" to try to aim to become. It wasn't a model that was so Photoshopped that no one could ever look like her. If you ask me, I miss seeing real women in magazines. I think the fashion industry needs to learn that clothes on a a wharf of a model does not make me want to buy them. Oh, and before I forget, I never once read in a magazine where a model said, " I exercise two times a day, eat right, and rarely allow myself to have any sweets." What I do read and hear is, "I don't exercise, I eat what ever I want. I'm just lucky I have good genes." Well aren't you special? And for the record, you're a huge fibber. You may not exercise, but I promise you, you don't eat what you want. You eat tofu and salads all day, everyday. You starve yourself for your profession or get some help with illegal drugs. Just look at all the award shows on TV. How many times do you hear actors say that they have been on a "cleansing" diet for two weeks? I hear it all the time. SO, for two weeks before the awards show, the actor is drinking some strange concoction and using the bathroom way more than any normal person should. But hey, at least she looks good in her Oscar de la Rente dress.I don't know anyone who would consider those things yummy to the tummy. Tofu can't hold it's own up against a good 4oz grilled cheeseburger, grilled onions, and topped with your faves. Then to add some pasta salad or french fries with that makes it even better. But, apparently the models "genes" made her taste buds not find any of that appealing....or a better explanation is that she LIED through her perfectly straight, overly white teeth. I'm going with option 2 on this one.
I don't think it's all media's fault. I think parents, friends, and co-workers have some say in our feelings too. How many of us have lost weight int he past heard this, "Oh my goodness, you look great!!! How much have you lost?" It's like the amount of weight lost is needed to verify that the person does in fact look good. If you say you've only lost around 10 pounds, you are bound to hear someone say, "that's it? If looks like you've lost so much more. I guess everything has just redistributed." If you say, you've lost 50lbs, then you hear, "oh, that's a lot. How much more do you have to lose?" This is a feeble attempt to find out your weight. Something that always ticked me off. To these people, I usually respond that I'm not sure as i don't really look at the scale. This seems to make them very uncomfortable. The look of, "you're kidding me. Who doesn't look at the scale." is priceless. It usually only takes one time of saying this and they stop asking for numbers. The key is making them feel just a little more uncomfortable than you do. That way, they don't bother you again with all this number talk.
Another thing I heard growing up (even from my father...who believe it or not didn't mean for it to sound rude) was, "you would be sooooo beautiful if only you lost some weight." I can't tell you how many times I heard this growing up. I heard it from family, "friends', teachers, even people I didn't know that I just saw out and about. How did they not see my face drop when they said it? Did I look like deep down I was thinking, "you know, you're right. Right now I'm fat and ugly, but if I loose some weight I will be thin and beautiful. Ummm, thanks? I won't type what I want to say but it rhymes with Pluck Hue!!!! I thought beauty was on the inside. How does losing weight make my inner beauty even more beautiful? Oh it doesn't. You are really saying that even though I have a great personality, my fatness is making it hard for anyone to find me attractive. Thanks for making me aware of this. I wouldn't have known with out your underhanded complement. Now, I am just going to lock myself in my house and find some cookies and ice cream. My emotions just said, "screw you", I don't need your approval. I have the approval of Ben and Jerry's and Oreo. At least they make me happy and don't make me feel bad about myself until the next day when I get in on the scale again. But even then, I don't blame Ben and Jerry or myself for allowing them to cheer me up. I blame the mean person who hurt my feelings and "made me" fall off the wagon. Yes, it's that person''s fault I'm fat!!!! If they would have called me beautiful then I wouldn't be downing all the ice cream and cookies I can get my fat stubby fingers around. LOL
Now, I know the only person to blame is myself. No one forced me to eat the things I used to eat. I did that all on my own. I watched the number on the scale go up and up over the years and I was the person that didn't do anything about it. Now, all that's changed. I did do something about it. I now eat to live and not live to eat. I just have to learn that the scale isn't the end all be all. I have to throw out everything I've been taught in the past 37 years and take a new look at it all. But, I still want to see those numbers go down...maybe I can do a little of both? This is going to be hard but I can't allow a little box with digital numbers run my life any more and I hope you don't either. Here's to the only numbers that count....my protein and my liquids. I like those numbers high and I don't feel bad when I eat my tuna fish or my smoothie. Now I just have to learn to not feel bad when the scale doenst' move. Yes, that's going to be the hardest thing to get used to.
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.
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.
One thing you all don't know yet is that I fall all the time. I can be walking along just fine and then BAM, I hit the ground. I've done this my whole life so I've learned how to take a fall. I also run into things and bang my head on things all the time. Again, I'm used to this. Also, I had lots of extra padding to keep me safe. Well, last night I found out that some of that padding is gone....and trust me, it HURT me to learn this.
I had gone over to my parents to get a cooler for my friend and her husband to use at the beach today. I cleaned it out with bleach and water.....and ruined ANOTHER shirt. Bleach and I just don't get along. Anyway, back on track. So, last night I looked inside of it and noticed that there was still some water in it. Now, you have to understand the way my counter is. It comes out to the living room to allow for extra space and a place to eat. Ok, so I was bent down (under the counter) cleaning out the water and then I decided it would be a great idea to stand up without getting out from under the counter. Well, my head found a new friend. I slammed my head on the counter so hard that I gave myself two knots, a headache and a concussion. It was right then I knew that I lost some fat in my head. I say that becasue I have hit my head on so many things over the years with out issue. I am talking counters, the open freezer door, walls (walking into them), doors. I swear, I always have some type of bruise on me but I haven't had a concussion since I don't know when.
My husband rolled his eyes at me when I told him how badly I was hurt. He's used to seeing me doing things like this and I am never a baby about it but for some reason last night he thought I was making it worse than it was. That was until he felt my knots. Thank you knots for telling him I am not a wimp. Then it all changed. He became so concerned. He wouldn't let me sleep and if I did, he made me sleep out in the living room so he could wake me up when he wanted to make sure I was ok. That was great until I woke up on my own only to find his sleeping on the couch (I was on the love seat). What is it with men, a remote, and a couch. I think there is a sleep button that we women don't know anything about on the remote.
Anyway, i am fine. Knots are much smaller today and the headache is gone. I just have to be more careful now that I'm losing my padding. It's going to suck when I fall again....I better start wearing one of those dog training suits...that should keep me safe.
I find it interesting how different my body is in only four months....almost to the day. Now, I know I've lost A LOT of weight. I am smart enough to know that with the amount of weight I have lost I will see changes in my body. However, there are times I look at myself in the mirror, shower, get dressed, or just touch my arm that I think, "Who is this person, and why am I touching her body?"
Let me explain. Last night I was showering. As I was washing my body, I swear it felt like a different person was in the shower and I was in her head. I didn't feel like "ME"...well the really fat 330lb me. I then tried on clothes I bought before surgery that were WAY to tight on me. Both things are now big on me. The shirt is less big, but I remember when I tried them on and laughed at the fact they didn't fit. The thought that they would ever fit seemed so far fetched to me. Again, I knew I would loss weight....I just wasn't ready for the psychological changes that would have to come with the weight loss.
I still wear clothes that are baggy. When I do wear clothes that fit properly, I am so self conscience at first and it takes me hearing from many people that I look fine before I can actually leave the house. I have actually begun to get a little perturbed that my new favorite lounge around shirts are getting way to big for me. I've only had them for a month and a half and I thought they would at least fit until October. To be honest, I would be happy to have them for years and years due to how comfy they are.
Now with that all said, I love seeing my body change and shape into the person I always felt like under all the extra weight. I never thought I was depressed but now that I've lost weight, I can say that I wasn't as happy as I could have been. I am so much happier now. I love seeing men take a double take or have them smile and flirt. That hasn't happened in years. Now before people start going off about how I'm married and I shouldn't look for that....relax. First, I love my husband with all my heart. Second, everyone flirts and everyone likes to be admired. If you say you don't...you're full of crap. And trust me, if you read my blog from a few days I go, you will know that being full of crap can be very painful!!!!
The good thing is that even though the scale is moving at a snails pace these past five weeks....my body is still surprising me. I can't wait to see what it looks like around Christmas time. To be honest, I am REALLY looking forward to the day I see my parents out and about and they don't recognize me. This happens to my sister ALL THE TIME. For those of you who don't know, my sister had by-pass surgery around three or four years ago. There are sometimes I go to her house and am still in shock that the little tiny person I am talking to is her...hopefully one day I will get the same response. But for now, I am going to keep being surprised in the shower....maybe I should have said in the mirror...the other one sounds really, really bad.
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".
My body is going crazy. it can't make up it's mind about what size it wants to be. Only two days ago, I was 10lbs lighter....yes, 10lbs. Now, I know this all water weight but it still sucks. I thought maybe I over ate too much during my BPDs (big pouch days) the past two days, but according to myfitnesspal.com, I didn't go that overboard. So, that means one of two things. I am getting more lean muscle or I am getting ready have a visit from Aunt Flow. Either way, I am fine with it. I am just getting frustrated with staying over 200lbs. My goal was to be at least 199 by Christmas, and I really don't see that happening.
I hate to admit that I concern myself about the numbers on the scale, but I do. The sane person in me can see I'm losing inches and that all of my clothes are way to big for me. I am seeing bones I never knew I could show and I'm excited to say that out of all the chins I've had in the past, I like this single one the most. BUT....there is always a BUT.....I want the scale to go down regularly (or at least stay on the same number). Nope, that's not me. My scale jumps around more than a child skipping rope. It's always between 5-10lbs, but still, no one wants to get to a number only to weigh themselves a few days later and see that that number has jumped up in a attempt to do a slam dunk for the winning points of a playoff game.
I know not to let this get me down, but it still does. Even though my food intake doesn't change much from day to day, I start thinking, "what can I eat less of today?" Why can't I just look at myself and say, "Look how far you've come" ? Are we so mentally damaged form years of being overweight that we can't see the positives of how much we've lost already? Again, I KNOW my thoughts are not helping me but I can't help but think them. You know the ones, "I am going to fail at this." "I suck", "I'm still just a fat girl with no control".....there are so many more that I would take up this whole site but I refuse to allow them to take over completely. Instead, I am going to ban the scale for a couple of weeks. That's right, I am going to say so long to something so small making me feel so bad.
I've put a lot of thought in this and I am starting to think that the scale is my new drug of choice. Food used to do it for me, but not anymore. Now, I go to the scale to feel better even though sometimes it makes me feel worse. Think about it, we go from eating to feel good...then feeling really bad about what we ate to going to the scale to feel better. If the scale doesn't make us feel the way we want, we start getting down on ourselves. We start self doubting and trying to justify our actions or lack of them. We come up with excuses (my period is starting, It's water weight) and to be honest, these are probably right. However, none of this helps up feel better except seeing those numbers continuing to go down.
So I say farewell to the scale and the ups and downs it's given me (both physically and emotionality). My plan is to hand it over to my husband for two weeks and then check my weight again at that time. Then, if it hasn't changed then I know it's me and I have to make some changes....if it goes down, then maybe my love of the scale will come back....I hope not....it's worse than a bad relationship....nice to you one day and a pain in the but the next....and that's not something I look for in any relationship especially one I can't have an argument with.
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!
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!!!
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.....
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
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.
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!!!!
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 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.
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 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.
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!!!
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.
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.
