Lyra

Going back to work was a lot harder than I thought. My job requires that I travel to local site 2-3 times a week and sometimes I would forget my lunch so I had to eat out. But I think I have finally adjusted.
 
I hate to admit it but I had buyer's remorse up until week 6. Three things happened...(1) I was able to get into a size 14, (2) I was able to drink 50 oz of water and didn't have dry mouth any more and (3) my husband told me that he was going to go through the surgery as well. Eating is better too.
 
So today I had my 8 week follow up with the nurse and dietition. I am not longer under any restriction. I can have strawberries, nuts, and drink through a straw. YAY!!!!!! Also, I have lost 43 lbs and I fit into a size 12 comfortably but can squeeze into a size 10. My back no longer hurts. My knees no longer crack. I can run up and down the stairs no problem. I feel great! It was totally worth it. Oh...and my sex life is amazing!!!!! :wub:

Over the last week or so I've immersed myself into TedTalks, a yearly convention that is the brain and spirit trust that shows both the absolute best and worst of humanity. It combines science, art, music, humor, and every other aspect that makes us human. It's been inspiring on so many levels, and it has also caused me to really think.
 
One of the talks was on shame and vulnerability, why we feel them, and how those feelings (and how we deal with them) are important to our lives. I know that for myself I dealt with those emotions by reaching for the cookie box or eating way too much food. I think a lot of people who know me think that I'm an open person because I like to laugh and joke around. Yet I definitely have some very tall, very large boundaries as I am, at heart, a rather private person. This journey has really been a struggle for me because it makes me uncomfortable to be vulnerable in front of others. To go to the doctor and say, "I need this surgery. That I cannot lose weight on my own and will only continue to gain." To go to my best friends with confidence (all the while feeling shame) and tell them that I am getting this surgery. To realize that shame was illogical, but to feel it anyway. Two of my closest friends sat down with me to talk about why I decided to do this. I could see that my normal flippant responses wouldn't work, and that they were important enough to me to try and be as open as possible. God, it was hard, though. So very, very hard. I think I would rather run through the streets naked rather than open up emotionally like that. The results, though, were that they understood and now are really supportive.
 
My surgery of April 25th is quickly approaching, and I realize how much I really want things to change. I want to stand at my 30th birthday in November and look back and realize that not only am I healthier and have started a more active life...but I also want to be a more emotionally open person. Kinder, more compassionate, and more honest with myself and others. I'm not really sure how to do that but I guess that's part of the journey.
 
Either way, it's gonna be a hell of a ride.

Over the last week or so I've immersed myself into TedTalks, a yearly convention that is the brain and spirit trust that shows both the absolute best and worst of humanity. It combines science, art, music, humor, and every other aspect that makes us human. It's been inspiring on so many levels, and it has also caused me to really think.
 
One of the talks was on shame and vulnerability, why we feel them, and how those feelings (and how we deal with them) are important to our lives. I know that for myself I dealt with those emotions by reaching for the cookie box or eating way too much food. I think a lot of people who know me think that I'm an open person because I like to laugh and joke around. Yet I definitely have some very tall, very large boundaries as I am, at heart, a rather private person. This journey has really been a struggle for me because it makes me uncomfortable to be vulnerable in front of others. To go to the doctor and say, "I need this surgery. That I cannot lose weight on my own and will only continue to gain." To go to my best friends with confidence (all the while feeling shame) and tell them that I am getting this surgery. To realize that shame was illogical, but to feel it anyway. Two of my closest friends sat down with me to talk about why I decided to do this. I could see that my normal flippant responses wouldn't work, and that they were important enough to me to try and be as open as possible. God, it was hard, though. So very, very hard. I think I would rather run through the streets naked rather than open up emotionally like that. The results, though, were that they understood and now are really supportive.
 
My surgery of April 25th is quickly approaching, and I realize how much I really want things to change. I want to stand at my 30th birthday in November and look back and realize that not only am I healthier and have started a more active life...but I also want to be a more emotionally open person. Kinder, more compassionate, and more honest with myself and others. I'm not really sure how to do that but I guess that's part of the journey.
 
Either way, it's gonna be a hell of a ride.

Wow, I've had a doozie of a week, ya'll! So, granted the 'stranger' was my boss, but I'm never taking juice unless there is an ingredient label with it.
 
Picture this: The plucky (and devastatingly beautiful) protagonist Lyra goes in to work to do battle against the Hoard Of Rampaging Customers Needing Cake Right. This. Minute when her boss offers her some pineapple juice. Plucky and Sassy Lyra loves pineapple juice so drinks a good 8 oz of it. Everything seems to be going well until her stomach starts cramping up and hives start breaking out in her mouth and on her skin. (Okay, enough of the third person). I went to find the juice container and discovered that there was apple juice listed as an ingredient. Did I mention that I'm highly allergic to apples? Luckily I always carry emergency allergy meds with me but it still about kicked my tail!
 
The moral of the story: Never take juice from strangers. Or people you know. Although I did joke with my boss that if she was trying to kill me so she could hire a younger, prettier cake decorator that I was on to her and that it wasn't going to work!
 
Maybe I should hire some hot, European bodyguards while at work...I could declare it as a business expense on my taxes....*wicked smile*

Wow, I've had a doozie of a week, ya'll! So, granted the 'stranger' was my boss, but I'm never taking juice unless there is an ingredient label with it.
 
Picture this: The plucky (and devastatingly beautiful) protagonist Lyra goes in to work to do battle against the Hoard Of Rampaging Customers Needing Cake Right. This. Minute when her boss offers her some pineapple juice. Plucky and Sassy Lyra loves pineapple juice so drinks a good 8 oz of it. Everything seems to be going well until her stomach starts cramping up and hives start breaking out in her mouth and on her skin. (Okay, enough of the third person). I went to find the juice container and discovered that there was apple juice listed as an ingredient. Did I mention that I'm highly allergic to apples? Luckily I always carry emergency allergy meds with me but it still about kicked my tail!
 
The moral of the story: Never take juice from strangers. Or people you know. Although I did joke with my boss that if she was trying to kill me so she could hire a younger, prettier cake decorator that I was on to her and that it wasn't going to work!
 
Maybe I should hire some hot, European bodyguards while at work...I could declare it as a business expense on my taxes....*wicked smile*

Things I plan to do after surgery:
 
1) Jet skiing in an actual bathing suit
2) Go to an amusement park and not fear being too fat for the rides
3) SHOPPING
4) Buy knee high boots (the ones without the 'expansion panel')
5) Restart taking martial arts and ballroom dancing. I miss them!
6) Get the tattoo I've been wanting for my 30th birthday- but have it also mean victory over being fat
7) White Water rafting and ziplining
8) Go on dates, Meet men. Have a real relationship. Have Sex. All. Night. Long.
9) Not be scared to flirt with someone because 'how could they be interested in someone like me'
10) Take a glass blowing class. Standing next to the furnace sucks when you come equipped with your own plushy, non-removable insulation!
 
11)...well, 11 is the hardest one. I've realized while going through this process some uncomfortable home truths about myself. That my attitude has kept me from really connecting with people who haven't known me for years. It was hard telling my friends why I wanted to do this. To open myself up to them in that way. It made me realize that I've used humor to keep my distance from people. To distract them from my weight and my insecurities. Don't get me wrong, I love making people laugh. I like the fact that I can make someone smile and perhaps brighten their day. I've been called quirky, funny, witty, and individual. I'm the one making the crazy puns, singing even though my voice is horrible, dancing just because I can and laughing at the world around me. I adore life and all its myriad craziness. I love causing people to rise above the humdrum of everyday life and to smile when I ask, "Have they done their five minutes of cardiovascular swashbuckling today?" or "What is their philosophical standpoint on foam in their latte?" Why be sad when you can smile? Except somehow the philosophy changed and morphed into something less wholesome. It became my defense and barrier because who looks deeper into someone who is laughing and smiling? Who notices the fat when someone is funny? One of my oldest friends put it best when he said, "You've always laughed, smiled, and dared the world...but there was always this undercurrent of sadness that you rarely let anybody touch."
 
There was this feeling of sadness that I buried so deep inside of myself that I rarely acknowledged it. I wasn't (and am not) depressed or miserable, but sometimes I would feel wistful. Is this how my life would be, slowly slipping by? I had friends, but many of the things I wanted to do were denied to me. Where was the life of love, family, and adventure that I felt sure would be mine when I was in high school or even college? Would I have to let pieces of myself die as I slowly became resigned that this is all there was? Would I let my fear of failure rule over my entire life? One of my biggest fears was always that I would become one of those people whose spark has been beaten down by life. I do not want to become one of the faceless ones who have given up all hope. Life is so beautiful, and I dreaded becoming bitter because I felt trapped.
 
Yet it is hard to open yourself up to the world. Even with our friends, because they have the power to hurt us the most. Our culture eats the weak and it is rare when personal pain is able to touch the hearts of others and bring help instead of humiliation; Understanding and hope, instead of sneering and cruelty. Even with my closest friends sometimes it's easier to make a quip instead of talking about emotions. I also think I learned early that if society would not value me for my looks (and would often be actively cruel about them) then I would be valued for my personality and my mind. That I would not be ignored as insignificant and shoved into a corner. That my brain was not somehow worthless because my body was not a size 6. I would not be ignored! And I'm not. I would not change my quirkiness, but I would like to be someone who can be more open to other people. I would like to know the woman who can be both funny and thoughtful. I would like to know what it feels like to not feel confined by a prison made of flesh. To not feel like I have to smile, smile smile. To actually believe, to the very depths of myself, that I am beautiful and worthy of a life of love and adventure. To be physically able to live that life. To actually know that life is not over, that it's just begun, and that there is an entire world waiting for me.
 
The hope for a better future is a powerful thing. It's gonna be hard, but that's okay. I have a lot of work to do on the inside as well. I am thankful ever day that I heard of this surgery, that I qualify, and that I'm schedule to have it April 25.
 
~Lyra
 
ps- Dear Site Designers: Once again I had to rewrite my entire post (I am seriously pissed at myself about that) because I clicked Add Entry (I tend to write the title of the post last and the button is right there) and my entire post was deleted. Hitting backpage did nada to retrieve my entry and I think my scream hit the stratosphere. Is there any way that ya'll can add in a line of code that allows you to retrieve your unpublished post (instead of just deleting it) if Add Entry is accidentally hit?
 
Thanks!

I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man.
~Zhuangzi
 
 
I've always had crazy dreams full of intricate plot, color, surround sound, and sci-fi material but last night was a doozie. Let me explain, I almost always know when I'm dreaming. You see, when I was a little kid I had really, really, really intense dreams (I still do but as an adult they don't bother me) and one day I decided that I was a 'big girl' and didn't need to cry for my mom or dad. So after I would wake up from such techno-color dreams I would mentally envision myself on a white horse (yeah, I was horse crazy) galloping through a meadow with kitties and puppies and whatnot (so trite!). I would slow my breathing and forcibly calm myself down (breathing helps everything, I swear!). I only learned as an adult when I was being taught meditation that I had been doing a version of that all those years. Kinda neat, huh? Anyway, I remember my dreams almost daily so it became an automatic defense until one day I was in the dream and realized that I was dreaming and was able to calm myself down while still asleep. That means that even 'scary' dreams are pretty hilarious when you know that they're not true. Typically I only have the traditional 'nightmares' when I'm either stressed or sick as I think it sort of short-circuits my ability to influence that aspect of my mind.
 
So last night I'm minding my own business all snuggled into my comfy bed and I kept waking up in a full on clammy sweat. It was like I had just run a full marathon at Olympic breaking speeds. Yuck! I don't really remember what I was dreaming (which is odd for me) but I remember a feeling of being confined and powerless. There may also have been a panda bear. (Yeah, it doesn't take a degree to understand that first part!). I think being powerless is my greatest fear so it's not surprising that it would cause my sleeping brain to freak out like that.
 
Dearest sub-brain, I realize that you're obviously nervous about my upcoming future but it'll be okay. Seriously. So, take a chill pill, relax, and let the poor human have some nice, uninterrupted sleep tonight! Otherwise I might go batsh@$t crazy at work and start throwing cakes at customers like I was a monkey at the zoo.
 
Well, except they don't throw cake.

HA! I have vanquished my evil foe, Ye Olde Insurance Company and it quivers under the might of my Sword of Righteousness! We have parleyed and it has given over approval for my surgery! Huzzah, I tell you! Huzzah and Woot!
 
That's right, boys and girls, Lyra is going under the knife on April 25! Ladies and Gents, there will be a new Sheriff in town! My stomach, who will soon be called "The Sheriff" is gonna be a spur-and-chaps wearin', six shooter tottin', topped with a ten-gallon cowboy hat fighter of fat! Together we shall eradicate my engorged lipid cells to the far reaches of the planet, never to be seen or heard from again!
 
And now, I am off to watch some Monty Python: The Search for the Holy Grail! Or perhaps a giant, mutant alligator going crazy and attacking townspeople movie!
 
Thank you to all and to all a kick-ass night!

HA! I have vanquished my evil foe, Ye Olde Insurance Company and it quivers under the might of my Sword of Righteousness! We have parleyed and it has given over approval for my surgery! Huzzah, I tell you! Huzzah and Woot!
 
That's right, boys and girls, Lyra is going under the knife on April 25! Ladies and Gents, there will be a new Sheriff in town! My stomach, who will soon be called "The Sheriff" is gonna be a spur-and-chaps wearin', six shooter tottin', topped with a ten-gallon cowboy hat fighter of fat! Together we shall eradicate my engorged lipid cells to the far reaches of the planet, never to be seen or heard from again!
 
And now, I am off to watch some Monty Python: The Search for the Holy Grail! Or perhaps a giant, mutant alligator going crazy and attacking townspeople movie!
 
Thank you to all and to all a kick-ass night!

HA! I have vanquished my evil foe, Ye Olde Insurance Company and it quivers under the might of my Sword of Righteousness! We have parleyed and it has given over approval for my surgery! Huzzah, I tell you! Huzzah and Woot!
 
That's right, boys and girls, Lyra is going under the knife on April 25! Ladies and Gents, there will be a new Sheriff in town! My stomach, who will soon be called "The Sheriff" is gonna be a spur-and-chaps wearin', six shooter tottin', topped with a ten-gallon cowboy hat fighter of fat! Together we shall eradicate my engorged lipid cells to the far reaches of the planet, never to be seen or heard from again!
 
And now, I am off to watch some Monty Python: The Search for the Holy Grail! Or perhaps a giant, mutant alligator going crazy and attacking townspeople movie!
 
Thank you to all and to all a kick-ass night!

HA! I have vanquished my evil foe, Ye Olde Insurance Company and it quivers under the might of my Sword of Righteousness! We have parleyed and it has given over approval for my surgery! Huzzah, I tell you! Huzzah and Woot!
 
That's right, boys and girls, Lyra is going under the knife on April 25! Ladies and Gents, there will be a new Sheriff in town! My stomach, who will soon be called "The Sheriff" is gonna be a spur-and-chaps wearin', six shooter tottin', topped with a ten-gallon cowboy hat fighter of fat! Together we shall eradicate my engorged lipid cells to the far reaches of the planet, never to be seen or heard from again!
 
And now, I am off to watch some Monty Python: The Search for the Holy Grail! Or perhaps a giant, mutant alligator going crazy and attacking townspeople movie!
 
Thank you to all and to all a kick-ass night!

HA! I have vanquished my evil foe, Ye Olde Insurance Company and it quivers under the might of my Sword of Righteousness! We have parleyed and it has given over approval for my surgery! Huzzah, I tell you! Huzzah and Woot!
 
That's right, boys and girls, Lyra is going under the knife on April 25! Ladies and Gents, there will be a new Sheriff in town! My stomach, who will soon be called "The Sheriff" is gonna be a spur-and-chaps wearin', six shooter tottin', topped with a ten-gallon cowboy hat fighter of fat! Together we shall eradicate my engorged lipid cells to the far reaches of the planet, never to be seen or heard from again!
 
And now, I am off to watch some Monty Python: The Search for the Holy Grail! Or perhaps a giant, mutant alligator going crazy and attacking townspeople movie!
 
Thank you to all and to all a kick-ass night!

I don't know why I'm freaking out right now. Maybe because it feels that for the past two months I've been living and breathing VSG surgery and right now I'm in the Insurance Limbo From Hell. Until I hear back from them there is nothing I can do. I really do not like not being in control of my fate. The longer the limbo stretches the crazier the ideas are that pop into my head. On top of work shenanigans (we're super busy) and relationship stress my mind is blowing everything out of proportion. I know that this is what's happening, but still. I've been so busy lately that I feel like I haven't had any time for a healthy outlet that's not work, VSG related, or sleeping! Obviously I have enough problems without having my imagination working overtime!
 
Tonight I was talking to my mom and she said that my dad (who had VSG about 1.5 months ago) is now a terrible cook. He was cooking her dinner but she asked him to stop because it was (in some cases) inedible. Cooking has always been a big part of my family (and obviously a big part of the problem!) and my dad and I LOVE to cook. I adore combining different flavors and just feeding people. I get great enjoyment out of it. This is why I went to culinary school. I have a career based on my ability to bake! So now I'm freaking out that somehow after surgery I will lose my ability to cook/bake. That not only will a huge chunk of my stomach be cut out, but also my culinary ability. I mean, what happens if instead I gain the ability to make anything explode? Next thing you know I'm in the CIA and working in some cesspit and using vanilla extract to blow stuff up only to later be snuffed because I know too much. Okay, so that probably wont happen, but you get the point! It's so stupid to be so worked up over this and to invite trouble before I even have surgery!!
 
Today at work somebody told me that "I'm the spoon that stirs the pot" and that work is so much more interesting and fun when I'm there and that I put other people in a good mood. It made me feel warm and fuzzy...but sad, too. At my last job people were thoughtless and backstabbing and didn't really like me so it really surprises me when people tell me how glad they are that I work with them. I think the correct word is 'baffled'. I worked in that toxic job for so long that I think I started to subconsciously believe that I wasn't a good person. I was stressed all the time and hated life. I've been so happy at my new job but I'm thinking that I need to do something soon to stretch my wings. Teaching would do that but dang, that's a scary thought! Intriguing, but scary!
 
I think right now my emotions are going in every which way and I'm trying really hard for them not to impact upon my relationships. I just want this done and over so I can move on. I LIKE being cheerful and fun. I want to go rock climbing so badly I can taste it! I don't like feeling so discombobulated and out of sorts!!
 
Sheesh, I thought my emotions would be on a roller coaster AFTER the surgery, not before!!

Ok folks- I'm going to expose my inner nerd a little here, so don't go telling anyone that I'm not as cool as all that, ok?
 
I finally broke the 300 lb. barrier and am soooo excited to be in the 200s again. Ok, I'm only at 296, but that counts. So as I lift my eyes to look across the span of the next 100 lbs, I'm feeling a little like Frodo when he and Sam finally get into Mordor and look across to Mount Doom. (After all the spider trauma, of course;) ) All they see is a vast wasteland filled with threatening foes waiting to take them down. But, on the other side....Frodo knows that freedom from the burden chained around his neck awaits.
 
I know the freedom from this weight is coming. It just looks so daunting right now. Such a loooooong.....rocky....journey. But I'm ready. I know it's not magic, and it's going to take hard work. But when I get there, the relief will be soooooooo SWEET!!!!! I can't wait to cast it into the fire!!
 
Nerd moment over. Carry on.

It really has happened, I can hardly believe it myself. I went into hospital on Monday 19th March and they allowed me home on Tuesday 20th March. They also sent me home with a ton of medication.I am truly thankful that my husband is here to help me make sense of it all. He has already made me a wipe board with my medications and times to take them on. He is so supportive I couldn't manage without him.
 
Anyway, the operation went very well, I didn't need a drain thank goodness, everything looks good and my incisions were covered in a glue that holds everything together. They are beginning to heal well because they have started to itch. I am leaving them well alone. I am able to drink albeit slowly and steadily. I am also able to swallow all my pills even the large ones. (they are not comfortable but are doable) I have been both ends (if you know what I mean) so that is all working just fine. In fact, apart from the fact I feel as though I was kicked by an elephant I am just fantastic.
 
Although I was on a morphine drip the first day I stopped using it at two in the morning as I really didn't need it. I have been incredibly lucky. I haven't really had what I would call pain. I have been uncomfortable but I expected that as a minimum. I am sure that I was able to cope so well was because of everything I have read on this forum. Thank you everyone here, you made this so much easier for me and I am truly greatful. :wub:
 
I am drinking but not sure how much yet. I have been told different amounts by different doctors (!!***!!) But, I think the minimum I should have would be 1 and a half pints of liquid and if I can do 4 pints that would be amazing. At the moment I am on track for the 1 and a half pints, but who knows I may get better at it sooner than I expect. I will try and keep everyone informed on how I am doing as my head gets a little clearer and I have a little more energy.

Last year my mom and I went on this amazing vacation that had to do with her work. It was fantastic and we've been planning on doing it again next year (it's only held every other year). We were talking about it tonight and how exciting it's going to be. I love hanging out with my mom! One of the things I'm really excited about is how much thinner I'll be because of the surgery. It'll definitely make riding on a plane easier! I am just about the maximum size a person can be and still fit in the waaaay too narrow seat. Yet I do fit with a little room to spare so it made me feel bad when I got on one of my connecting flights and the guy sitting next to me had the "oh hell no that fat chick isn't going to sit next to me" look on his face. He didn't even have the courtesy to at least pretend not to be looking around for another seat. In fact he about bowled me over in his hurry to get away from me. Bastard. Sometimes I wonder how people can be so insensitive. I'm no saint, but I genuinely do not want to hurt people's feelings. It makes me wonder if people who have no care for others were raised in a barn by a flock of feral chickens.
 
Anyway, that is neither here nor there. So my mom and I were talking about this fab vacation we're planning and I can't wait to shop for clothes! Granted, it's 10 months and 3 weeks away (but whose counting?) but I'm daydreaming about wearing a sexy little dress that clings in all the right places. Of a classy little evening bag whose strap stays on my shoulder and some knockout heels that scream "diva on the prowl!".
 
I've already changed so much in the last year. Internally changed, I mean. In fact, last summer was the first summer in almost 10 years that I wore shorts. Crazy, right? Yet I've always been so self-conscious. Not because I'm...er...plumptious, but because I have a lot of scarring on my legs from a run in with a brown recluse spider plus mrsa and two surgeries. I finally decided that my scars show that I still have legs thank god and that I've led an interesting life so screw the stares from people. To my surprise I found that most people just don't care or don't pay attention. It was a huge confidence builder and for those who were rude enough to point my scars out I came up with some real humdinger responses. My favorites included being attacked by rabid fire ants, alien abduction, surgery to make me taller, and a horrific circus accident involving a clown, tiger, and a wheelbarrow. *smirk*.
 
Man, I can't wait to go shopping for fashionable clothing!

Ahhh, exercise! Those wacky movements that cause our muscles to ache and for a voice deep down to scream "Take that!" to the world at large who says that big people are just lazy. So I work in what is (not) affectionately known as "The Batcave" or "The Fortress of Solitude". Basically it's a very, very small windowless room next to a giant convection oven that is sweltering even in the depths of winter. So while I am far, far away from being nature girl (I hate bugs, being dirty, trees, and those bushes that always cling to your legs and are currently spludging pollen like it's an Olympic sport) a friend and I decided to picnic and hike at Umstead State Park. So off we hike (amble) on a nice 2 mile trail. Yet a good gossip later we found ourselves having taken a switchback and somehow jumped trails to the 7 MILE LONG ONE! Now this Plumptious Lady is good for about 3-4 mile up and down trail hiking but not for any more than that! So we continued walking and stumbled across this dude jogging. We asked him but he had no clue how to help us, which was okay because he was shirtless and hot and I enjoyed the eye candy. We then wandered across this couple who were dressed as "serious hikers" and while she tried to help us he was a total jerk and kept on walking. Also, I would like to take this time for an aside comment, "Hey, fella, karma's a b**ch and I hope you enjoyed your hike while knowing that two bodacious babes were more lost than Hansel and Gretel. May a good Samaritan be scarce when you need one".
 
All we wanted to know was where an intersecting trail was to take us the fastest route back to the cars so my friend could get to work on time. So, basically when I decided that it was going to have to be cannibalism and my friend would have to take one for the team we found a superhero dressed in black workout spandex! (She also goes by 'Carmen' in her day-to-day life) This wonderful lady walked us to her car and gave us a lift back to our cars. Thanks, Superhero Carmen! My friend will never know how close she came to being lunch meat...
 
Well, now I'm back home with my legs wrapped and elevated (stupid surgery scars) and my feet singin' the blues. Yet deep, deep inside is this skinny person standing on top of a rock (like in that credit card commercial) with her hands up Richard Nixon-style screaming, "Ha! I did it, I kicked hiking left butt cheek! Mwahaha! The world is my oyster and all I need is a lemon slice!" I couldn't have done this multi-mile hike a few months ago and it's nice to see that the jogging and weight lifting has paid off even pre-surgery!
 
I think, however, that next time I want to experience some of the 'great outdoors' I'll just go walk around one of those open air malls. They have restaurants as I really don't think that my friends would taste good without either tabasco or A1. And who carries condiments on a day-hike....? *grin*
 
 
(I had to re-type this from memory. Apparently the "Add Entry" button doesn't add the entry to your blog, but deletes what you have written and opens a new blank entry page. Awesome. Not.)

When I went to my last pre-insurance-approval class (is- Support group) I was told to wait until Tuesday and then call to see if the doctors had all gotten my paperwork to Dr. W. So, dutifully I call and was told that everything was kosher and that it had gone to the insurance lady, Mary, last Friday. So...sitting here, cruising the 'web, eating some pasta, watching about dinosaurs and just chilling. NOT. Okay, so the first few things were true, but I am not calm and collected! I'm about to have absolutely NO nails left. I am, in fact, biting my nails so badly that it looks like I have a nervous tick and the nice men in the white jackets are gonna take me to a padded room. Also, as a side note, I was totally expecting something different from the Support group. I had this weird image that we would all be sitting in a circle on rainbow poofy chairs talking about our feelings, our emotional eating problems, and our mothers. Something very touchy-feely. Not that there is anything wrong with touchy-feelyness, per say, but I would rather remove my own stomach with a dull, plastic spork then talk about such things in front of strangers. Well the rainbow poofy chairs were long tables, metal folding chairs, and a whiteboard. And the only touchy feeling talk going on was about vitamins, minerals and how best not to starve ourselves of vital nutrients.
 
So, I have all these questions whirling through my head. What if the insurance blip I had to take care of a few weeks ago didn't go all the way through the bureaucratic nine levels of hell to be attached to my file? What if the doctor's office didn't properly file my new insurance information in my folder? What if BCBS's computers suddenly become sentient and we all start living some variation of "The Terminator"? Somehow I don't think Dr W would do surgery in some broken down building while hoping to escape from a rabid AI. Okay, so maybe that last one is a touch out there...
 
I know that after the surgery I will be getting rid of clothes like crazy. I thought I was ready to get rid of my favorite shirt that I have had for years. I had even made plans to get said shirt in smaller incarnations. Whenever I wore this shirt I got sooo many compliments and it was the supreme of cool. Yet my Led Zepplin shirt was taken from me before it's time. Not because I have lost so much weight that it was now a tent and merrily off I went to buy another. No. It was insidiously taken from me by my dryer. I pulled it out and somehow small holes had ripped through the shirt. It had gone straight from "I can wear this out in public" through "I can wear this to the gym" to "only in my house. Alone. With the blinds closed." *sigh* Poor Led Zepplin shirt.

Last year my mom and I went on this amazing vacation that had to do with her work. It was fantastic and we've been planning on doing it again next year (it's only held every other year). We were talking about it tonight and how exciting it's going to be. I love hanging out with my mom! One of the things I'm really excited about is how much thinner I'll be because of the surgery. It'll definitely make riding on a plane easier! I am just about the maximum size a person can be and still fit in the waaaay too narrow seat. Yet I do fit with a little room to spare so it made me feel bad when I got on one of my connecting flights and the guy sitting next to me had the "oh hell no that fat chick isn't going to sit next to me" look on his face. He didn't even have the courtesy to at least pretend not to be looking around for another seat. In fact he about bowled me over in his hurry to get away from me. Bastard. Sometimes I wonder how people can be so insensitive. I'm no saint, but I genuinely do not want to hurt people's feelings. It makes me wonder if people who have no care for others were raised in a barn by a flock of feral chickens.
 
Anyway, that is neither here nor there. So my mom and I were talking about this fab vacation we're planning and I can't wait to shop for clothes! Granted, it's 10 months and 3 weeks away (but whose counting?) but I'm daydreaming about wearing a sexy little dress that clings in all the right places. Of a classy little evening bag whose strap stays on my shoulder and some knockout heels that scream "diva on the prowl!".
 
I've already changed so much in the last year. Internally changed, I mean. In fact, last summer was the first summer in almost 10 years that I wore shorts. Crazy, right? Yet I've always been so self-conscious. Not because I'm...er...plumptious, but because I have a lot of scarring on my legs from a run in with a brown recluse spider plus mrsa and two surgeries. I finally decided that my scars show that I still have legs thank god and that I've led an interesting life so screw the stares from people. To my surprise I found that most people just don't care or don't pay attention. It was a huge confidence builder and for those who were rude enough to point my scars out I came up with some real humdinger responses. My favorites included being attacked by rabid fire ants, alien abduction, surgery to make me taller, and a horrific circus accident involving a clown, tiger, and a wheelbarrow. *smirk*.
 
Man, I can't wait to go shopping for fashionable clothing!

Okay, venting shall now occur and I consider this fair warning!
 
So I realize that I should be grateful that (for the most part) my friends, coworkers, and family are behind my 100% on this surgery. It definitely takes down the stress level and for those who look down on me for it I have no problem walking away. I've been going through the hoops and am almost done with all my classes/tests. In fact, all I have is the EKG (Monday!) and the support group meeting (3/8!) and I'm done pending final clearance by the insurance company. So why am I all "bitchy Lyra" right now? For the last few weeks all any of my friends want to talk about is the surgery. Again, I tell myself that I am happy that they're so curious and supportive...but it feels that anytime we get together somebody brings it up and they continually ask me if I'm scared/nervous/excited. They can't seem to believe me that no, I'm not scared. They ask me if I'm going to miss eating, etc. I dont really want to talk about how I'm worried that I might have emotional upheavel for awhile afterwards as I go from food being my emotional blankie to just something that I eat to survive. I feel so mean spirited and hypocritical, but I'm getting really frustrated with them. I am more than just a weight loss surgery. Talk to me about horrible monster/zombie movies, my art classes, work, my hobbies, my bucket list, my desire to play the violin...anything other than my surgery. I have this nagging fear that after it they're going to want daily updates on my weight loss. I know that it's up to me to have boundaries but this is just maddening. I love these people dearly and don't want to snap at them but I'm so irritated right now. Perhaps there is such a thing as being too supportive? God, what an oxymoron. Anybody else have this happen to them?
 
Okay, rant over. On the flip side I had my chest xray done yesterday and had a funny conversation with the technician.
 
Tech: So this is pre-op for gastric bypass?
Me: No, it's for the vertical sleeve gastrectomy of the stomach.
Tech: So its for the bypass.
Me: No, there is no bypassing. It's a VSG.
Tech: So its a lapband.
Me: ....no.
 
Personally I think it's more disturbing for them to totally bypass your stomach or to have a plastic thingy in your side where a surgeon can influence a choke-collar on your stomach. This woman was horrified at the idea of someone cutting part of your stomach out, which to me was the saner choice. Po-tay-toe, po-tah-to.

Okay, venting shall now occur and I consider this fair warning!
 
So I realize that I should be grateful that (for the most part) my friends, coworkers, and family are behind my 100% on this surgery. It definitely takes down the stress level and for those who look down on me for it I have no problem walking away. I've been going through the hoops and am almost done with all my classes/tests. In fact, all I have is the EKG (Monday!) and the support group meeting (3/8!) and I'm done pending final clearance by the insurance company. So why am I all "bitchy Lyra" right now? For the last few weeks all any of my friends want to talk about is the surgery. Again, I tell myself that I am happy that they're so curious and supportive...but it feels that anytime we get together somebody brings it up and they continually ask me if I'm scared/nervous/excited. They can't seem to believe me that no, I'm not scared. They ask me if I'm going to miss eating, etc. I dont really want to talk about how I'm worried that I might have emotional upheavel for awhile afterwards as I go from food being my emotional blankie to just something that I eat to survive. I feel so mean spirited and hypocritical, but I'm getting really frustrated with them. I am more than just a weight loss surgery. Talk to me about horrible monster/zombie movies, my art classes, work, my hobbies, my bucket list, my desire to play the violin...anything other than my surgery. I have this nagging fear that after it they're going to want daily updates on my weight loss. I know that it's up to me to have boundaries but this is just maddening. I love these people dearly and don't want to snap at them but I'm so irritated right now. Perhaps there is such a thing as being too supportive? God, what an oxymoron. Anybody else have this happen to them?
 
Okay, rant over. On the flip side I had my chest xray done yesterday and had a funny conversation with the technician.
 
Tech: So this is pre-op for gastric bypass?
Me: No, it's for the vertical sleeve gastrectomy of the stomach.
Tech: So its for the bypass.
Me: No, there is no bypassing. It's a VSG.
Tech: So its a lapband.
Me: ....no.
 
Personally I think it's more disturbing for them to totally bypass your stomach or to have a plastic thingy in your side where a surgeon can influence a choke-collar on your stomach. This woman was horrified at the idea of someone cutting part of your stomach out, which to me was the saner choice. Po-tay-toe, po-tah-to.

Well, I returned to work, arrived early - 7 AM, since I had insomnia last night - I figured I'd make the most of the day. After I got my walk on with the love of my life. My hubbage has been super awesome supportive. I am blessed. I keep my big GNC MIO flavored water at my side where ever I go, and I have a bottle of Isopure on my desk. I sip, sip, sip and that does the trick. I had egg-salad at my desk - started at 12, and finished at 3 - I took my sweet time eating bit by bit. I'm so afraid of feeling uncomfortable and visiting up-chuck city at work that I would rather slowly pace myself. Granted, it is HARD AS HELL. The shadow man from stress eater land is lurking over me all the time. It is so wierd to want to eat but to not be hungry. I think that is the biggest challenge for me. Recognizing and listening to my stress triggers and not immediately thinking FOOD. I find so much support, positivity and community on this site - thank you who ever reads and comments, you are lifting my spirit as I work through this life change. Every smiley face is getting a smile right back. I talked to my HR Director, she did not turn over the paperwork to my boss, kept it confidential as requested, fully supported me. (I LOVE WHEN HR DOES WHAT THEY SHOULD). I met with my boss, the good news...well she told me about my "bonus" for the performance year - we did well. However, she "negatively modified" my bonus because she felt I "struggled" this year. Let me define the struggle. An anonymous complaint to HR w/out facts, inuendo and no specific examples to substantiate the claim. I've asked time and again - but to no avail. And I got "dinged" because she did not feel I had as outstanding of a year as my peers. She smiled the whole time she said it. She's inspires me to be a better person. Even though it was a small "ding" - it is the point none the less. I've been working on my Resume - time to be successful somewhere else. Some day. I love my staff, my team, the work I do. It is challenging, fun. I've got AWESOME health bennies. So, I shut up and put up, or I move on. I don't think I could handle moving on so soon. So I will vent, and deal. And wish the flees of a thousand camels infest her pants.
 

I went to my Wellness and NUT class yesterday and I have to say that I was shocked. Once again I go to these mandatory classes and I sit there and think, "Does anybody actually know how to google?" Hell, the moment that the idea of VSG tickled my brain I immediately powered up my trusty laptop for some quality web time. Thats how I found all you lovely men and women on this site! Yet here I was, months later sitting in my W&NUT class and listening to this one gentleman say, "You mean I have to give up my McDonald's Deluxe Breakfasts?". And he wasn't being sarcastic, he was actually dismayed. *sigh*
 
On another note, I also passed my Psych(o) exam yesterday! $345 for 50 minutes that involved a conversation and a test to determine my mental wellbeing. Obviously I went into the wrong line of business as this sure beats my hourly wage!
 
I'm having friends over for dinner on Saturday and my bff told me that her husband isn't really getting why I'm having this surgery. Basically he's worried about me having surgery, as all surgery is dangerous. Also, he thinks that you can lose weight just by trying harder and using will power. Luckily my bff said that she thinks thats bs. I dont think that if you've been thin your entire life that you can understand how hard it is to lose weight and keep it off. So dinner should be interesting. Basically my mantra is, "You can be supportive without actually agreeing" and "Bring on the questions as long as the conversations are respectful". I'm not worried about it as its my choice, my family is behind me, and the effects speak for themselves. Also I know his questions come out of concern for me, and that it's not coming from a mean or judgemental place. Sometimes I forget that those who have never had surgery or health problems view surgery so suspiciously. I'm only 29 but I've had my appendix and tonsils removed, pins put into my foot, two surgeries on my legs to fix a brown recluse bite gone bad, wisdom teeth removed, and breast reduction surgery. Surgery itself does not scare me...and I think you get to a point in your life that you are willing to risk everything in order to gain a healthier and better life.
 
One more class to go on March 7 and then everything can be submitted to the insurance. Woohoo!
 
"If you are going to walk on thin ice, you might as well dance." ~ Unknown

I looked in the mirror this morning and I could actually see that I've lost some weight in my face.
That made me very happy

Time seems to be just meandering along, and in some cases, I think the clock is being moved backwards. I just started on this journey a few months ago and I have my first required class on Wednesday, then psych and nutrition on 2/15, then a support group 3/8, followed by my pre-op class. The most probable month of surgery is in April and I'm already stressed out trying to figure out HOW I'm going to schedule this around work. I'm a cake decorator so I can't be out of work on Easter, and the only other decorator is going on vacation 4/21. So unless the surgeon can do the operation around 4/9 then I might have to wait until MAY to be able to take the 2 weeks he wants off of work. Yes, I know I'm whining and that I should be happy I'm making forward momentum in this and that it's not like I'm not BUSY otherwise....but I'm just frustrated. I also know that I'm putting the cart before the horse and that everything will work out...but I'm just frustrated! It's funny in that I'm pouting about this and feeling so frustrated that I'm almost laughing at MYSELF in how ridiculous I am being. *sigh*
 
As I said before I have a rather long "To Do" list before I have the surgery. Goals that I want to meet before it happens: I'm going to do a 5K Mud Run/Walk with my bff before I have VSG, yoga training, weight lifting, wedding cakes, plan a wedding shower (not mine), etc so it's not like I'm bored. Perhaps I should use this opportunity to work on my patience...read a few books...work on my patience...
 
Did anybody else have Hurry-the-hell-up-gitis that I'm experiencing? What was your way of dealing with it?