whippledaddy

Sue, there are quite a few Michiganians, Michiganders?, on here. Check out the Michigan threads. But browse the whole site, it's been my rock at a time when I needed a stable place to think and learn about the band.

Had my stress test today. They shaved my chest, four little round holes. They dry shaved it. Ouch. Then the woman used real, honest to goodness sandpaper on my four bare spots. Ouch. Then she poured alchohol on the four red, tender, sanded, bare spots. Ouch! B-tch! Then the other woman was stupid enough to ask me why my heart rate suddenly spiked up by twenty beats a minute. They hooked me up to wires and made me walk on a treadmill that inclined more and went faster until I was afraid I was gonna die. Then they increased the incline and the speed until I was afraid I WASN'T gonna die. I seem to recall hearing the Doc say it was all good, but I was wheezing so loud I couldn't be sure. He finally repeated that I didn't have any blockages, and that the test showed a heart healthy enought to go through the surgery. That's good. Now, I've gotta find some lotion for my chest.

Today I completed the second endoscopy. The ulcers are gone, the stomach is still inflamed, but Dr. thinks it's treatable whether or not he does the surgery. So now I know I'm getting banded. On the sixteenth. In twelve days. And I'm eating lettuce and drinking Carnation Instant Breakfast. I'm not nervous, I'm just too durn macho. I'm not excited either. Just a turn in the road. Maybe Lisa Green is right. Maybe I should change those initials under my name. OFBG? (Old Fat Bald Guy, in case ya didn't know) Nah. There is a short fat bald guys club, but I was an inch too tall to join. Maybe SSC. Sexy Senior Citizen? Maybe MBM. Macho Bandster Man Maybe MMBG. Mucho Macho Bald Guy (Remember Yul Brynner?) Or maybe I'll change it, somewhere down the line, to JMOT. Just Me, Only Thinner. Remember when I said I wasn't nervous, or excited? I lied.

Lisa, I know I'm reading this late, but Patty gets hives in the winter (she's allergic to being cold!) and Benadryl makes a lotion. You put it right on the hives and you dont' get sleepy. But remember, it counts as part of your daily allowance, so if you take it orally too, don't take too much.

Some times every turn in the road brings new tragedy. Sometimes the sun refuses to shine, and when it does something heavy and dark steals it before it can warm our upturned face. I would like to tell you why this is. I would like to help you understand. Why have you been singled out? Why should you be afraid to ask "What's new?" . I have no answers. And the only thing I know is true is "And this too, shall pass". Small comfort knowing our pains shall pass. In "The Princess Bride" Wesley tells Buttercup "Life is pain, and anyone who says different is selling something". Now I don't think that bleak a view is necessary, but it sometimes feels that we buy our joy with the currency of sorrow. I lost six good friends one year. Each to a different cause. In six months time. It seemed that everyone I knew was dying. And there was nothing I could do but grieve. Know that it will get better. Know that sorrow must come to each of us. It sucks when you get it heaped on you, and not measured out. Know that one day life will have sweetness again, indeed it does already, save the bitter taste blocks the sweetness out. Darkness defines light. Sorrow defines joy. After the darkest night, the dawn is all the brighter. May you find comfort other than food. That is where we all sought it, and that is what new sorrows are teaching us. We can find solace without shortening our own lives. I'll hold you in my heart and prayers, and send good vibes your way, may these times give way to days of sunlight, carefree walks in dappled shadows, and in the quiet of the moment, may you hear your heart laughing once again.

Nutritionist has added one T of healthy oil a day, like olive oil, she's concerned about going that period of time without any fat in the diet. I took my oil, heated it in a pan, fried some shredded cabbage in it, put it on a plate, then stir fried broccoli, cauliflower, mushrooms and onions, hit it with some balsamic vinegar, and Basil, tossed it on top of the cabbage base. Heaven!, and there was still oil in the wok, so I didn't even use the whole Tablespoon! I love knowing how to cook.

Second full day of pre op diet, gasp, gasp. If you don't see me on here much it's 'cause the keys are so hard to push down, and I'm so weak! Four carnation instant breakfasts a day, and veggies. Veggies. Veggies. Oh, yeah, and broth. Don't forget broth. No liquor for me Lisa Green! LOL. Shhh. Gotta go, them vultures are hoverin' and circlin' again.

I'll just close my eyes and you'll all be right there.

Thanks guys. Patty isn't fully recovered at all. In fact the RSD is for life, but she IS mostly pain free now until the next round of surgeries begin, early next year. The best news of all is that I won't have to go to the in-laws for Thanksgiving. Now THAT'S special!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 Get my final endo tomorrow,pre op tests the eleventh, and on to the sixteenth.

Congrats, I'm right behind ya.

Ah, me. I thought I was above this sort of thing. I thought it wouldn't bother me. A co-worker introduced me to another person working in our prison. It's a big place, we don't know each other, but Craig was up to one of his little jokes. Carol works up front, and I never go to the office so I never see those folks, I'm in the trenches, helping the prisoners cook, and serve the meals. Craig, my co-worker, tells Carol that I'm going to have the Band Surgery. She doesn't know me. Yet she takes it upon herself to tell me that if I had any self control or will power I could do it without the crutch. It was a longer conversation than it needed to be, because I didn't shut her down. I didn't argue with her either. She's entitled to her opinion. Still a free country and all that. What she thinks of me is none of my business, after all they are HER thoughts. Craig knows this woman. He knew how she would react when he told her that. He's a coworker, not a friend, obviously, and he likes these little mind games. But why would this woman, a total stranger, attack me so? Why? Who gained in this little exercise. I know why her words hurt so much. After all isn't what she said what I've been telling myself for most of my life? Wasn't she just repeating what that secret little voice hiding deep within my own dark recesses was whispering to my inner ear? Your weak. You'll fail, again. Because you're weak. If you were a real man you'd do it on your own, cold turkey. You'd give up all food and live on sunshine and Water like a tree. An oak tree. But no, you're weak, doughy, without spine, or resolve. Yes she woke the whiner within, and his voice is clear and strong. It drowns out all others. What she did was terrible. But the real crime here was that I let it get to me. I thought I was better than that. Now I attack myself for this, viewing it as weakness. Well, at least she didn't tell me I wasn't all THAT fat, or point out others in my boat. Give me a little time, I'll not carry her around any longer than I must, I've got enough to deal with without her. There, now I feel better.

And now that I have composed myself, dried my eyes, and cheeks, and changed my shirt. And now that I have put my dear Patty to bed where she sleeps and dreams of happier times to come. But also where she won't see her husband weep like a child as he reads and answers these posts. Now. Now I can answer. Part of me didn't want to. Part of me just wanted to sit here, and bask in this warm and friendly glow from the screen. But, such support, such noble intentions, deserve, demand, some sort of response. Thank you. As I said in a PM to someone: On a day like this, when everything in my life sucks (but the vacuum, it's broken) here you all are. When I looked outside it was dark, yet when I opened my eyes in LBTland, the sun was shining, and it had so many names. I am filled with tears of quiet joy. I am so blessed. Of course I'm getting banded. I start my liquid diet tomorrow. Fourteen days from now I will have taken a step, crossed a river, turned down a glass, burned my most important bridge. I know I will succeed. But. If I did fail, just if, I would still carry a huge positive feeling away from this whole experience. The people here at LBT. I never knew I could feel this way. All of your posts, so supportive, so wonderful. I have been a loner for so much of my life. Doing it the hard way, toughing it out, going it alone. I hope I never do anything to offend any of you ever. You deserve to be treated like Queens and Kings. You are royalty. I am so humbled, and so honored. I don't think I could treasure anything more than the priviledge of knowing all of you. You make me realize a great truth. What wonders the average person could perform if they had someone who only told them "you can do it". So powerful are those words. Thank you. I can do it. And you can do it, too. My pain of that moment the other day has been obliterated by awe and wonder, and warmth. For all you are, for all of you, for all you do, I say: Thank you.

Jack, no I haven't. My Doc was reluctant to write orders for different masks at first, so I changed to the doctor I have now. He'll write the orders but my choices are very limited. Out here in the boonies all we ever hear is "We can't get that" or "I'll have to order it, and it'll be here in two weeks." Gratiot Home Medical is poorly stocked, and the people are poorly trained. Sparrow Health System is part of the gigantic Sparrow Network, but doesn't do so well by its sattelites in tiny little towns like alma. I can get these buds, but by the time they get here, I'll be banded. Wonder just how long it'll take for the sleep to improve? If I lose enough to sleep on my back comfortably, maybe I"ll keep the band on. My theory is that when I turn on my side I knock it loose and then my hand just pulls it off to get rid of the irritating air blowing in my eye.

Don't have a beard. Just a mustache, and I went to a full face, so the 'stache shouldn't be a problem. I've gotten better results after I switched medical suppliers, tho I don't have a co-pay with the one, I get much better service with the other. The C-Pap was wonderful for the first few nights. But after a week I kept waking up with the good old headache and the mask not on. Repeated attempts with my physician got nothing except scripts for different masks. You take them all off the same way, so my sub conscious had no problems adjusting. I've met others who have good luck with them, but even the man who fitted me said he was in the same boat as I. I am thankful for the nights it does work, and does help.

No, I didn't know that. Seems like my local medical equipment supplier would have let me know, just so they could sell more.

I find it hard to believe that any of those overpriced masks were developed by someone who actually got a good nights sleep. I have never awoken with one actually on. And, sometimes I work nights. You ain't really lived until you jump up to answer the doorbell while hooked up to one of those things. I've given up on my c-pap machine, but the case they sent with it has come in quite handy for cd's and such. I'm just not going to lose any sleep over it. Hah.

Put on the leathers! Let's ride. I bet we could make a big impression! No Pun Intended.

Any one can go down for the nine count. Just get up before the man says "ten".

I've been saving daylight for months now, and here it is, midnight, dark as a carload of a$$holes, and I can't find any of that daylight stash I've been saving all summer. Well, no matter, it's over now. Gotta set the clocks back and go to bed. Hmmmmmmmmmmm. Does this mean it'll be getting early, later now?

Now, thass quite enuff talk about cute wimmin wearin' bath towels. Hmpf. Where's me heart pills?

Yeah, Lyle, it was rough wasn't it? Being the last person picked for dodgeball, or anything. It was always two jocks that I looked up to, and it was like the loser got the fat kid. You were "expected" to be strong. Like it was all muscle. And punches, and pinches, and pins couldn't hurt you. It was like they didn't think fat people could feel any kind of pain. Ryan got changed to "Rhino" on my first day of school. Forty seven years later, grown men still call me that. Dates? Fuhgeddaboutit. The only way to fit in was to be better looking, or better in sports. Rich worked too. So if you were poor and fat, you were kind of lonely. The one piece desk and chair. Only skinny kids fit. There was a self esteem booster. But it was all okay. Because it led to here, and now. It made us into people who don't call names. Who don't laugh at handicaps, or differences. People who can tolerate the objectionable in others, even boorishness. We have been through the fire, and we do not seek for others to get burned. We make the world a more compassionate place. I wouldn't change it for the world. I understand what it is like to be on the recieving end of prejudice. So now I know. Color, religion, political belief, physical appearance, I know what it's like to be on the outside looking in. I have felt the sting of bigotry. As have we all. Now ahead lies a future, once dark and uncertain. Now there is a streaming highway of brighter tomorrows, days spent frolicking in the meadows, in the sun, in new bodies, chisled from the old ones we used to carry. Be joyful. Spread that sunshine. Burn the dark weeds of intolerance with the bright light of each new day. Inner peace, Lyle? YOU DESERVE IT.

Just want you all to know. For the first time in my life I feel that it's okay that I've been fat most of my life. Had I been skinny I would never have found this place. Just for the record: The people I've found here make all those fat years worth it. Now, not only do I feel good about my future. I feel a heck of a lot better about my past. Thank you.

Nah, I'm a Pisces. They're artistic but lazy. Yawn.

Talked to Patty today. The only pain she is experiencing right now is the pain of the surgery. But her arm, neck and hand are pain free. First thing I'm gonna do when she gets home is hold her hand.

The alarm rang at 3:00 A.M. today. It's on the other side of the room so that I must throw off the warm covers and let the morning chill help to pull me up through the thick gravy of sleep to the waking world. The alarm rings a little longer these days since I've gained forty odd pounds in the last year. I staggered to Patty's room (yes we have separate rooms, my sleep apnea noises keep her awake, and there just isn't room for her hospital bed plus the twin in either of our tiny bedrooms.) and gently kissed her awake. She was a bundle of nerves. She got her bath and got dressed. At 4:30 A.M. her Mom pulled into the drive. Then I kissed her goodbye and watched them drive away. You see, she's having surgery today. She must ride three hundred miles to Cleveland Clinic, undergo a five hour procedure, then be in the hospital down there for at least three more days. This is the first time she's had surgery without me there. This is the first time she's gone through something like this without me there. Part of me thought I would enjoy this little break. Some "me" time for a change. Part of me was wrong. I talked to her on the phone after they got to the hospital room. She's doing fine. I'm not, I feel like something necessary has been amputated. You see, she insisted on my not going. She didn't want me to burn any time. She has done an about face on my time off after surgery. She wants to make sure that I have as much time as I need. Any wonder why I love her so? I don't know what changed her mind. I just know it changed. So, here I am, counting my blessings, and lurking at LBT. This place is my salvation, sometimes. Here I can laugh, and cry, and just be. Here I don't worry about being macho, or anything I'm not. Only myself. I surely don't know where I would be without my wife and without this place. As I think I've said here before, Chefs make friends but only for a time. My best and dearest friend is in the mountains in New Mexico, and we can only talk on the phone every week or so. But now I have new friends. Warm caring people, and I can hear the lilt of their cyber voices in my mind whenever I want. With the click of a mouse I can come to a safe and warm place, like hot chocolate for the soul. Thank you all for being you. Thank you for letting me be me. I think I'll go lurk some more, while I count my blessings, and miss my love.