Sharon1964

Update: Every. Single. Fiber. In. My. Body. Is. Screaming. Saturday, took the rest of the miscellaneous stuff to mom's new place. Kid and I spent the day shopping, picking up new bedding for both of us, a chest of drawers for me, a trundle storage unit for under her bed, groceries, etc. We were in motion from about 7 am until 3 pm. Then I went home and sat down for 30 minutes. Then I tried to stand up. Hah! My legs say "no way, beeeyotch!". I finally got up and as long as I stayed in motion I was okay. As soon as I sat down, everything seized up. Jeez, I need to get to the gym! Sunday, my sister came over with her teenage boys and a pickup truck, took the rest of mom's stuff (bed, dresser, the big stuff). She was out by about 10am. Then kid and I started on the house. Three years of dust from deep under the bed had to be vacuumed. Then disassemble her bunk bed (and me cursing the fact that I bought a solid wood bed, which is hella heavy). Right when we were about to start moving it into her room, my guy friend showed up - YAY! MAN MUSCLE! We got the bunks back together, then had to go pick up the trundle, which we discovered didn't fit in my baby suv, so had to go borrow the truck, drive back to the store, etc. There is no way I would have been able to get that into my house without man muscle. Super heavy. Get that assembled, beds made, have kid take everything from my room that belongs to her and put it in the living room, so I can start on my room while she puts her things away. Then. Boom. Ran out of steam. Couldn't do another thing. Well, there was one thing. While the kid was busy in her room, we snuck a standing quickie. Go me! Guy friend had to leave, so kid and I went and had dinner. Got my second wind, vacuumed my room (another three years of dust from under the kid's bed). Finally dropped, exhausted. Well, not too exhausted (you knew that was coming, didn't you??). I welcomed Big Buzzy back into my bed. It's been a long time, my friend. Slept like a rock, first time in a couple of months. Big Buzzy... because two heads are better than one! Hot, hot shower this morning. Sat down here to update my weight, and started typing this. Now I know my legs are going to scream at me again when I try to stand up. I still need to put up my new bed (I bought a new frame, which is higher than my old one, and a new headboard), and work on clearing the living room. And wash some blankets that I'm going to put away for the summer.

She changed her name and then edited. Alex changed it back, but it won't change the "edited by" line.

Any update?

Tired today, stayed home from work and just chilled. Also, told my boss it was surely stress-induced and therefore his fault. Normally, with any type of injury, my go-to response is "hot date." Keeps people guessing. LOL. In this case, no, fun has not been had since Saturday night. A successful date is one that does NOT end with a call to 911. Just sayin'.

I have been assured that THAT had nothing to do with it! Uhh... I mean, no, why do you ask???

I've had pleurisy before, which is an inflammation of the lining of the lungs. This is costochondritis. Costochondritis (kos-toe-kon-DRY-tis) is an inflammation of the cartilage that connects a rib to the breastbone (sternum). Pain caused by costochondritis might mimic that of a heart attack or other heart conditions. Costochondritis is sometimes known as chest wall pain, costosternal syndrome or costosternal chondrodynia. Sometimes, swelling accompanies the pain (Tietze syndrome). Costochondritis usually has no apparent cause. Treatment focuses on easing your pain while you wait for the condition to improve on its own, which can take several weeks or longer. Costochondritis usually goes away on its own, although it might last for several weeks or longer. Treatment focuses on pain relief.

@@Margie122 She will be about one mile away. One of the things that got her calmed down was my sister pointing out the fact that their relationship (mom and sister) got so much better after mom moved out.

So the second night, she brought it up to me. She was focusing on the fact that I said "I'm never alone" which was not my main complaint. She got all butthurt again, and finally I said, "maybe it's time to think about living apart"... I hadn't planned on bringing that up, but I really didn't want to go through this every night until my next therapy appointment (next week). She not only gave me the silent treatment that evening, but she spent the evening in her room, which she never does. So yesterday, she put a deposit down on a studio apartment nearby. She went and talked to my sister (the one she used to live with), and sister got her calmed down. She now seems excited about moving and things are not weird. Go figure. LOL.

It definitely sounds like a fitting problem. Have you tried tightening up the straps a little? I've had to do that several times. If your mouth is filling with air, then your mask isn't fitting the way it should.

So I saw the therapist yesterday. He wanted me to start with just trying to get her to talk about what was going on. Yeah, that went over like a lead balloon. I brought it up after dinner, after the kid had gone to her room. She got butthurt, told me how good I had it, and hasn't spoken to me since. I'm going to try again tonight. It's amazing I know how to communicate at all, given what my role model was.

She sees a doctor, after ignoring her health for 20 years and going into heart failure. That was her wakeup call. That didn't change her attitude though. She has not had a mental health evaluation. When she was living with my sister, she wanted to move out and my sister wanted her to move out, but neither would bring up the subject. So I did, they talked it out, and she moved out. At that time, she was treating my sister's boys the same way she is treating my daughter. I confronted her and told her I thought she needed to see someone and be evaluated for antidepressants. She said just let her get moved out and things will get better. I suppose they did for a while. Now not so much.

I don't eat until I'm full. I eat until I've eaten the amount I'm supposed to, which is what I've already measured out onto my plate.

I was at a party last weekend, and someone walked past me that I haven't seen in a couple of years. We made eye contact, I smiled, and he had no reaction. He kept looking at me, probably to try to figure out why this woman he doesn't know was grinning like an idiot. Finally, I said, "Mike, it's (name I use with that group)". When he "got it", it was awesome. Yeah, I go to parties where people use pseudonyms.

Yes, but it responds well to a good beating.

Read the labels. "Light" usually (but not always) means fewer calories, "low fat" or "fat free" usually (but not always) means less fat but more sugar. Sugar makes you fat, not fat. <--- broad generalization

You've done great. The only thing I would change is on page two, where you say that there is no requirement for recent participation... Change it to: Not only is there no definition of "recent", there is in fact no requirement for "recent participation"...

I thought the same thing. and this: " If this is what I am to become because I loose all the weight then let me keep it." Sure, stay fat because you think we have bad attitudes. That's SMART!

Wow. Thank you all for your input, experiences, and thoughts. Sometimes what I think is a superficial question (am I being lazy by changing my goal weight?), actually runs much, much deeper. My original goal was to fit into the world. I'm almost there. I fit in airplanes, restaurant booths, chairs with arms, etc. I can even wear some necklaces that used to be too short, due to my fat neck. I'm still shopping in plus-size stores, so there's that still. But even so, I do have far more choices than I used to have. My diabetes has completely resolved, my plantar fasciitis is gone (for now), no more knee and ankle pain. My blood pressure is completely normal. I've always had fabulous cholesterol numbers, so I've never had to worry about that. I have to remind myself every now and then what I've accomplished. 403 to 242 in nine months. That is HUGE. Wow. Thank you all for your input, experiences, and thoughts. Sometimes what I think is a superficial question (am I being lazy by changing my goal weight?), actually runs much, much deeper. My original goal was to fit into the world. I'm almost there. I fit in airplanes, restaurant booths, chairs with arms, etc. I can even wear some necklaces that used to be too short, due to my fat neck. I'm still shopping in plus-size stores, so there's that still. But even so, I do have far more choices than I used to have. My diabetes has completely resolved, my plantar fasciitis is gone (for now), no more knee and ankle pain. My blood pressure is completely normal. I've always had fabulous cholesterol numbers, so I've never had to worry about that. I have to remind myself every now and then what I've accomplished. 403 to 242 in nine months. That is HUGE.

@@VSGAnn2014 Every time I get on the scale, I still expect the first number to be a "3". I have a hard time wrapping my head around where I am right now - I fully expected the surgery to not "work" for me. The thought of changing the goal number feels like "cheating" to me... you know, like when you stepped on a scale (before the digital age) and you leaned one way or the other to try to make the scale show a lower number. Or you turned the little dial to make it start a couple of pounds below zero so the result was a lower number. Okay, taking the plunge and changing the goal number! I really need to not post when I've had coffee... I let you all wayyyy too far into my head, and that can be a scary place!!!

172 would give me a BMI of 27. That means I would have 70 pounds to go. Not sure I can wrap my head around going from 99 pounds to go, to 70 pounds to go, in the space of a few minutes!

When you get the denial, let me know if you need help crafting the letter. I've done this (appealing denials for medical care, not necessarily bariatric surgery denials) from the physician's side for a long time, and my success rate is pretty good, but persistence is key.

Yesterday I leave work a little early and head to Macy's for some retail therapy. I try on a blue suede skirt, size 20, on clearance. Fits awesome! I went from a size 32 being too small to a size 20 in 9 months (two more days will be 9 months). I found a blue blouse to go with it and wore them both today with the white, black and blue duster jacket I have on in my profile pic. Anyone, back to the story about Macy's. They had this awesome black skirt with an overlay in black that looked almost like rubber, in a lacy pattern, and clearance price of $19, down from $99. Zipped up AND down the back. They only had it in a size 18, so I tried it on. It was so tight around the knees, that I had to unzip it a little from the bottom (one reason the zipper went both directions). It fit pretty good, a few more pounds down and I can wear it. So I decide to see what happens when I bend over - how much does it ride up? So I turn away from the three-way mirror, bend over, look back at the mirror and am horrified by what I see. Everything is at least two inches south of where I saw it the last time I looked, and my butt has flown the coop - nowhere to be found!!!! Whiskey! Tango! Foxtrot! The sag has seriously set in! So this depresses me, but I still buy the skirt. Then I text one of the dudes I've been seeing and tell him I'm depressed about the view he has when he... yanno... DUZ THANGS TO ME! He said he wasn't depressed about it at all. Dude is 16 years younger than I am (yes, I'm pulling a cougar on this one), and I figure he just doesn't understand my angst. Then he offers to hang me upside down to... DO THANGS... and that way they will be two inches NORTH of where I saw them last. In the meantime, saving my pennies for plastics. Dang.