GLove

So after a bit of a stall in weight loss, I hit a milestone today. I am now down a total of 40 pounds from my start weight. The last two pounds took their sweet time comng off but today I was so excited when I got off the scale I was jumping up and down -naked, in my dining room. Thank god my kids were still asleep. Now only 80 lbs more to go. I am third of the way to my goal and I'm use over a month post op. This week I made some discoveries I want to share:
 
First- If I'm going have any money left to buy nice clothes by the time I reach my goal weight I need need to figure out how to get clothing now for my change body that doesn't break the bank but I still feel good in. I bought a pair of size 18 jeans two weeks ago-$25 on sale - too big now. All my other jeans too big to wear out of house cause if I move around too much they fall down, or they look too frumpy because too big. So...I found a new second hand store that had just open near by a friend of mine took me too on Wednesday. It was nicer then most and had some really nice clothing for cheap. I got three pairs of designer jeans-one still had original price tag of $65 -size 16, all for under $20 TOTAL! - They were really tight on Wednesday, had to lie down to get zipped, but not so bad today. I actually got them on and up while standing up with no problem.
 
Second- Oikos Key Lime Greek Yogurt-If you crumble up a small bit of graham cracker on top, It tastes very much like a Real Key Lime Pie. 11 grams of protein and 150 calories. I felt like I was being so bad but I wasn't.
 
Third- When I was putting makeup, to go to meeting at kids new school, on this morning I noticed I had cheek bones again!!! So cool. I actually skipped to my friends car in my new not too tight jeans.
 
Take care everyone.

After thinking about it for a long time, I have decided to put all of my fears and concerns down here in writing, no matter how irrational or insignificant they may be. I like to imagine that a few years down the road I will come back here and read this and think "Oh, how silly I was for being afraid of that!" So, here goes...
 
I am afraid of being one of those unfortunate ones who doesn't lose a significant amount of weight with the band.
I am afraid of dying on the table and leaving my family to pick up the pieces.
I am afraid of having too much excess skin after I lose the weight and having to battle the insurance company to have it removed.
I am afraid of the pain of post-op and recovering from surgery again.
I worry that even with the band, I will not be teaching my son to have a healthy relationship with food.
I am freaked out by the idea that I may become attractive to other men, and that I will not be able to deal with any attention that I might receive from them (that one takes a lot of bold-faced honesty to actually write down)
I worry that my band will slip or erode, and that I will have to have it removed or revised.
I am afraid that I will sabotage myself subconsciously and consistently "eat around the band."
I am afraid that my boyfriend will not know how to handle my weight loss and either leave or cheat.
I am afraid that I will have to struggle so hard to lose weight even with the band that I will give up and decide to be fat and happy vs. thin and miserable.
I am afraid that my fibromyalgia will get worse after I lose weight. (I have had several acquaintances with fibro and WLS tell me that this has happened to them)
I am afraid that my fibro will keep me from exercising and therefore cause me to gain all my weight back.
I am afraid that I will become so paranoid about gaining weight that I will become obsessive about tracking calories, and lose my joy.
I am afraid of having the surgery, losing all this weight, and still dying of a heart attack at 50.
I am afraid of being labeled as a "cheater" for having surgery instead of doing it the old fashioned way.
I am afraid of being under the magnifying glass when it comes to people who I choose to tell, and that they will constantly be watching me and waiting for me to mess up.
I am afraid of dealing with my bipolar grandmother once she finds out that I have had this done. She is super judgmental and can be very mean and thoughtless sometimes.
I am afraid that some other family members might start getting passive-aggressive when I start really losing weight, as if I were competition to them instead of just being happy for me.
I am afraid of losing my boobs. I know this is probably tmi, but they're already on the small side for my weight and I don't want to end up flat-chested.
I am afraid of losing my promise ring. It is already starting to get loose and I have only lost 10 pounds.
I am afraid of losing a bunch of weight, having my rings resized, then gaining back so much weight that they don't fit anymore.
I worry about becoming seriously depressed again after my surgery. I did with the last ones, and nobody told me beforehand that it was normal to get that way post-op.
I am afraid that I have already done too much damage to my body and that even after losing weight it won't heal.
I am afraid of being denied by my insurance company and not being able to have the surgery in the first place.
 
That's all I can think of at the moment. The rational part of me says that most of these are silly, and that the rest of them won't be as big a deal as I think they will. But in any case, I have them written down now so that I can look back at them in the future.

So, today I am feeling a bit weird. Weak. Stoned (as one of my bandster friends said). Or like I just took some antihistamines. I think this is because I did not eat nearly enough yesterday. Not just protein, but anything. I wasn't hungry. I'm not hungry today, but I'm making myself eat. Frozen fruit pop, stock with protein added, jello. The doctor even said I can do yogurt at this point but, as I'm not a huge fan I would prefer not. I also did not get enough water in yesterday, so I'm having to remind myself to drink, drink, drink. Which leads me to the letter G.
 
G stands for Gas. Yes, gas. I have gas. On surgery day, the gas was really noticeable. It made me feel like someone punched me in my gut (another G). As the days progress, the gas gets less, but it is still there nonetheless. Thus, I make a point of getting up and moving frequently. This results in some rather significant belches, followed by my utterance of another G: "That was glorious." I'm not saying this to anyone in particular, as I live alone. I'm not even saying it to my cat, who is very sad that she cannot climb up on my belly for cuddles. I simply say it because each large belch really is glorious.
 
The not so glorious end of the gas is the farting. When I feel a fart come along, I must extricate myself from my bed and go to the bathroom because, more often than not and my apologies for the TMI, the fart is accompanied by diarrhea. Granted, this could be worse. My bathroom is only a few steps from my bed and the diarrhea is not of the sort that results in an RBA (raw, burning a**hole). So, as it is right now, I am accepting of the farting.
 
Yet another end of the gas is the third G for today's installment: Gurgling. When I walk, I gurgle. When I lay, I gurgle. And when I drink, I gurgle even more. I have a veritable symphony of gurgling going on in my gullet. I should start laying some notes down on staff, that's how musical my insides have become. I am like Pooh Bear. There is a rumbly in my tumbly.
 
Tomorrow, I am hoping for less gas and more feeling like myself. But for today, I will continue my Will & Grace marathon and enjoy the cacophony of sounds emanating from my abdomen.