Friday, October 14, 2011

Epic Fail

It didn't get any easier today. I thought maybe crying myself to sleep last night would have emptied me out. Turns out you can cry buckets and then still cry some more.

Had my doctors appointment this morning to discuss "the plan". "The plan". I hate that. But, I hate everything right now, so, whatever.

He said that because the wedding was coming up in about four weeks it was ok to wait until afterwards for surgery to remove the band. He said this wasn't a life threatening situation. Especially because the only symptom I am having is the drainage.

It's so weird to me. According to Thinner Times, essentially, Lap-Band erosion is migration of the band through the stomach wall into the stomach. When the band erodes into the stomach, bacteria from the stomach enter into the capsule that mutually forms around the band. The infection then travels along the tubing into the pocket around the subcutaneous port. Thus many patients who develop erosion first notice pain, redness, and swelling in the vicinity of the access port. Another way that band migration presents is with loss of the band's restrictive effect. When the band erodes well into the stomach, food can bypass around the band. The patient can eat much more than before.

None of this fits me. No swelling. No problem with restriction. Had I not had the drainage, I probably wouldn't have even known this was happening.

Part of me wants to just get this all over with. Having to think about this and deal with this until the surgery on November 21st is probably not healthy for someone who has as many crazy tendencies and obsessive thoughts as I do. The problem is, they said they don't really know what is going on in there till they get inside. It may take a lot more healing than we are expecting and I certainly don't want anything to mess with the wedding I've been planning for a year and a half.

Also, the crazy in me says "perfect. a little over a month before they remove the band gives you more time to lose more weight". Never mind there is a hole growing in my stomach, right?

This is how you know you are crazy. You don't care you're leaking from your belly button. You don't care that you're basically getting an ulcer (for all intensive purposes). All you care about is that the band is getting removed and JESUS CHRIST WHAT IF YOU GAIN?

My mom said to me, my best friend said to me, the dietician said to me, the doctor said to me "GIVE YOURSELF SOME CREDIT. You've lost 86 lbs since December and I can introduce you to 5 lapband patients that have had it for a year and have lost only 10 lbs. THE BAND DIDN'T DO THIS. YOU DID. You, Nicole, made good choices. You, Nicole, changed your eating habits and completed a half marathon. NOT THE BAND."

I can't accept that right now. I simply, just can't.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Surprise!

Leave it to me to have a complication. I'm in a really bad place right now.

I had an upper GI today and it showed band erosion. This means I will need to have the lap band completely removed. The band has eroded into my stomach lining. From doing research online, there seems to be a bunch of theories about why this happens. Some say it's from the band being too tight. Some say it is from the damage that is done to the stomach lining during surgery, making the lining weak.
And surprise! It happens in less than 2% of patients. Yeah that's right. LESS THAN TWO PERCENT. But, of course, it happens to me.

I meet with my doctor tomorrow morning to discuss options and when I'll have the band removed. He thinks we can wait till after the wedding on November 12th.
From talking with the nurse today, she said that we let things heal and then put a new lap band in. (Or , from my research online today, possibly I choose a different type of surgery. Maybe the gastric sleeve?) The research I've done online says normal healing time is 6-8 months. I know I really have to wait to discuss things with him tomorrow.

I have lost 85 lbs.
My guess? They remove the band and I gain 85 lbs. I mean I clearly wasn't able to do this on my own before. Hence why I had to have the surgery. I was told today that I'm placing too much stock in the band. I needed the band in the first place for a reason.
They take the band out and what's left? Me on my own.
Houston....we have a problem.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Who Moved My Cheese?

I'm not quite sure where to start with this. We received a book in our all hands meeting last week that I'm actually surprised I've never read before.
It's called Who Moved My Cheese, by Spencer Johnson, M.D. It's all about change in your workplace and how to deal, but it's very simplified.
It's the story of two mice and two "littlepeople", who, in their daily maze get used to finding cheese where they have found it every day. Then, one day, it's gone.
I'm having a hard time with this book and my emotions relating to my job. There's been a lot of changes lately...new title, new responsibilities, new management...things that I don't feel are "right" or how things SHOULD be done.
In the book, Hem and Haw, the "littlepeople", discuss how they deserve their cheese. How they have worked hard for THEIR cheese. Hem said they were entitled to their cheese and how dare someone move it, change things, when they have worked so hard.

That's how I've been feeling lately. I'm not the boss. This is MY company. And there are MANY other people higher up than me. But you know what? The past six years I've given my blood, sweat, and tears for this department and this company, and yes, I DO feel entitled to be upset about the changes and feel like these people just aren't doing things right. I feel entitled to feel that if I've given so much, and now these changes are happenng, I've just wasted all that blood, sweat, and tears.

I feel like this book is about being afraid of change. I'm not afraid of change, I've never been afraid of change. I think change is good, I think it helps people learn, and I think it can make things better. My problem is I don't think THIS change is good. So, I pose the question....at what point do you accept change, because it's change and your superiors say, this change is coming deal with it? If you aren't fighting the change just because it's change, but you're fighting the change because you don't think it's the RIGHT change, does Who Moved My Cheese really apply? At what point do you resign to the change, because you can't change what the "superiors" have to say and do even if you don't believe in it?

I don't have the answers...do you?

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Liar Liar Pants on Fire

I keep saying I'm going to keep up better with this blog. Then I write one post and I forget about it.
I'm the queen of hit it and quit it apparantly.

A friend of mine sent me her blog today and it brought tears to my eyes. And I remembered what a release, what a relief it was to write. She has made the decision, like I did 70 lbs ago, to have bariatric surgery. I see so much of her in myself. I think those of us with weight issues have an unwritten sisterhood. We kind of just "get it". We understand all those feelings of inadequacy and hurt without having to say a word.
If you care to read her blog as she starts her journey its Here

I still have those feelings. I'm nowhere near overcoming them. But, I can say it is getting better. This past week I've heard "OMG you are really slimming down", "Your face is so thin", "What are you doing that you are looking so great?"
That's nice to hear. I am starting to recognize in myself the 70 lbs gone. I know that's kind of strange for people to understand. I just always see myself as the fat kid. It's just the way it goes. I tried on my wedding dress last weekend and for the first time thought "Wow, I'm really looking good". It was a nice feeling.

I have a few more goals to hit. I'm not sure if any of them will ever get me to the point where I'm completely satisfied, but I'm going to try.
I've got 26 lbs to go before I can officially say I am under 200. I honestly never thought I would ever see the number I am at right now, much less get under 200. So that's going to be a huge accomplishment for me.
The other goal I will hit probably before that one is my half marathon. That is happening July 17th in Napa. I'm walking it, but whoever would have even thought I would walk 13.1 miles.

I'm really happy that my journey has inspired someone. Like I said, I thought about keeping this whole journey a secret. But then I wondered what good would that do? This is nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone needs help at different times in their lives, and everyone needs help in different forms. This is a form that is right for me, my friend, and many other people.
I look forward to her journey as well as the rest of mine.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Cottage cheese violation

I am officially sick to death of cottage cheese. Look, I know cottage cheese isn't REALLY cheese, but I'm lumping it in this category anyways. It has cheese in the name for Christ's sake.

I'm really sick of cottage cheese. Like, so sick that if I see one more tiny white curd I may go all Godzilla on whatever is near by. Hopefully it's not a tiny village of pygmies or the Keebler Elf tree. I'd hate to be responsible for the demise of those things.

I have a small tub of cottage cheese sitting here at work next to my keyboard. It's my lunch. I was excited as I grabbed it from the fridge. My mouth was watering as I opened the top. Then I stuck my spoon in it and I looked at the container in disdain as if to say to it "I will kill you cottage cheese". And I thought, woah. What was that? I usually eat 2-3 little cottage cheeses a day. (Even the words cottage cheese is making my rage flag fly for some reason.)
So I dismissed it and I stuck my spoon in the container. The weirdest thing happened. As I was bringing the spoon to my mouth, all slow motion movie like, my face contorted and in my head I could hear "Noooooooooooooooooooooooo", but the spoon went in my mouth anyways. And then. There was silence.
The cottage cheese violated me and went down into my belly.

And now, I'm sitting here rocking back and forth wondering what I'm going to do with my lovely snack I enjoyed so much for so long and how it could have turned on me.
I hope you're happy now cottage cheese. We're on a break. We're in a fight.
Off to find a new snack....

Monday, May 30, 2011

Someone chase me

So...I've always been part of the "don't run unless being chased" group. Actually, let me restate that. I've always been part of the don't MOVE unless being chased group. I mean, ask anyone who knows me...I would send my cat to go get my drinks if the lazy things would oblige.

As I mentioned in my earlier blog post, on July 17th I will be doing 13.1 miles for Crohn's.
My Website

For the most part, I joined up with this and committed to this without thinking. I kind of was like, pshaw. 13.1 miles? What's the big deal? I'm sure it will be fine. And now, as I've gotten up to 6 miles, I'm sitting here going 13.1 miles? WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS HOLY WERE YOU THINKING???!!!
Actually, I would have more exclamation points at the end of that sentence but I'm far too exhausted from the 6 miles.

As the day gets closer, I'm realizing that I'm scared. I will do this. I know I will. And when I cross the finish line, I will cry with accomplishment before falling on my face and having to be dragged off the course by the paramedics.
But, for right now, I have all these thoughts in my head. In clinical crazy town terms, we call this Holy Shit What The F*** A Half Marathon? (Otherwise known as HSWTFAHF, you may be more familiar with it that way).

My fears are:
What if I don't finish?
What if both my kneecaps fall off?
What if I'm the last person to finish?
What if I fall down and pass out? (This will be remedied by pinning a note to my shirt that says take me to the nearest margarita and I will be fine).
What if I don't finish?
Did I mention what if I don't finish?
I can't decide what is worse for me...not finishing or being the last person to finish. It might be a tie.

Well, while I face my fears, while trying to have a heart to heart with my spazing leg muscles, I'll just ask for you to say a short prayer for my kneecaps. And maybe the rest of me.

A picture is worth a thousand words

So...I just finished my "don't call it a come back" post when I was thinking, maybe I should look through some old pictures.
I keep saying how I can't see the difference from 65 lbs ago. When I look at the full length picture I took the day before surgery I really honestly and truly go "Do I look any different?". (Look, I already admitted I was crazy town, ok?)

But then I looked at a couple close ups of my face and I can really see a difference. So maybe that makes me SLIGHTLY less crazy?

Before:






And After:



Don't turn out the lights.....

I let my blog go dark. It wasn't intentional. It just happened.

I'm trying to get back in the swing of things now though. Let's see...since the last time I wrote I've only lost about 7 lbs. It's been slow going, which is hard for me to accept.
The weight fell off so quickly at the beginning that I didn't even have to think about it. I just got another fill last Monday. I think I have close to 5 cc's in my band now. I still don't feel like I've hit the "sweet spot" everyone talks about.
I still have that emotional piece swimming around in my head and at this point I don't feel like it will ever get better. I met up with a friend who I hadn't seen in about a month to go to a concert this past week and she said "Look at you skinny". And I thought "Who could she POSSIBLY be talking to"?? There are times that I catch a quick glimpse of myself in the mirror and there is a fleeting thought about how thin I am looking. But it's gone fairly quickly. Because, then, when I see pictures of myself, I see how far I have to go.

I don't know how or when the crazy took residence in my head, but I don't think it's going anywhere anytime soon. If I've lost 65 lbs and still can't see how far I've come? Still can't see a difference from 65 lbs ago? There's something seriously wrong with me and I don't know how to fix it.

In other news, I'm still training with Team Challenge WI for my half marathon. I have about a month and a half left, and I feel like I really need to ramp up my training. In addition, my wedding is in 5 months and I am really scared of seeing those pictures as I look today.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Ipad!

Here’s some copy for your blog: I’m posting this to enter a contest offered by CheckNGo at The Centsible Life! I want to win the iPad 2! Enter to win here: http://bit.ly/TCLiPad

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

My body is ANGRY

You won't like it when it's angry. I made it do the plank position like 56 times yesterday. Or 2. Either or.

So, you know the pesky half marathon I'm training for. That.
I was thinking today. What if I can't do this? What if this was a crazy town idea? I kind of woke up one day and went hey...I should do this. I didn't think about it...I kind of just jumped into it. And I opened my big mouth about it too. Instead of being all James Bond and secret agent like I went HEY GUYS GUESS WHAT I'M DOING...and now...what if I fail?
Maybe I should have started off smaller...like making paper airplanes for fun or something?

Nah. I'll be fine. I know I just have to build up to it. *rocking in a corner while I say that*

Monday, April 11, 2011

I could vomit

No really. I could. Figuratively and literally. Wait. How do you figuratively vomit? I don't know. My head so confused with words I don't know what I'm saying.

I feel like I am on an emotional roller coaster ride every day. That's not getting much better. I have super highs and super lows. I need to start taking my anti depressants again I think. I stopped them as I started losing weight because I was feeling so much better about myself. But I think, now, as I start what I am calling the "2nd leg of my journey" (which almost feels scarily close to the beginnning of this whole process), I feel like maybe I need them.

I had a great Team Challenge practice yesterday. I love walking with Chrysa because we're the same. She has asthma, I have asthma. We both can't run very far. I started to tear up a little yesterday because I wanted so desperately to be able to jog more than I could but I couldn't catch my breath, my lungs felt like an elephant was sitting on them. It's frustrating to want to do more but physically not be able to. She said "Everyone has to start somewhere, the point is you're starting. Just do what you can". Which of course made it hard for me to hold back the water works, because as we all know, I tend to fill pools with how much I cry.
After we were done I was feeling great. My knee was sore, which, to be honest, I'm surprised it took this long to act up. The last ACL replacement I had was from a cadaver. I like to call him Fritz. Fritz isn't doing his job very well. Just sayin.
So then I had volleyball in the afternoon. Felt good till I saw a picture of myself. I think I'm just not going to allow pictures to be taken of me. Ever. That's when I start to get really weepy. When the "this is impossible" thoughts start coming back into my head. It helps me to be able to write this out and get the crazy out of my head, but not much.

When I see pictures of myself, it's like this protective shell appears around me. I revert back to how I was 60 lbs ago. I don't want anyone to look at me, I don't want anyone to see me. I don't want to hang out...I start thinking of excuses to have handy in case someone asks me to do something. It's instantaneous. Fighting that is like Ralph Macchio fighting the dudes from Cobra Kai. I totally want to sweep the leg. I just don't know how.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

No clever title here

Struggles. Not snuggles. Struggles. Emotional ones. Let me try to figure out how to even put this into words....
Remember how my last post was about how I am in terrible need of compliments? I don't even think compliments are going to help me over this hump.
I feel like I've gone so far and yet I have so far yet to go. I never thought I would feel this hopeless again. I almost feel like I am back at the beginning of my journey.
60 lbs lost.  And a million left to go. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know that's not true. But it feels like it.

Someone said on twitter the other day: "I have been eating like my old 238 lb self". This is a girl who is amazing. She started at that weight and is now running marathons and has lost 100 lbs. I realized that I'm just shy of what she started at. That kind of started my decline. I mean, to know that you have lost 60 lbs and are still just at a starting point. It's kind of upsetting. Then I saw some pictures of myself on Saturday and that was it. The decline was now fully engaged. I thought to myself, "If you look this fat now, imagine how you looked 60 lbs ago".

Putting this into words is more difficult to me than I thought it was going to be. I'm not sure I'm fully expressing how this feel. In reality, I've come so far. I know that in my head. To have gone from a size 24 to an 18 is a huge accomplishment. But, for some reason, I just feel like my world has been turned upside down again. I just feel like this is an impossible journey. I feel like those 60 lbs didn't matter. Ok great...now I'm LESS fat than I was before, but still a big ol fatty mcgee. 

Thursday, March 24, 2011

There will never be enough compliments

Seriously. I may go "Oh, you're making me blush, stop" and what I really mean is "Please please keep going, please feed my ego, please make me feel good about myself because I don't know how to do it on my own".

So...let's talk a little about me. I'm a natural red head (as you may or may not know). But I am. Here's a picture from when i was a kid. Yeah, I'm adorable, what can I say?
So anyways. I was teased through out grade school and high school for my red hair. I would suppose it stopped around the end of sophomore year right around...oh yeah, the time I began dying my hair to get rid of the red.
I was never the skinny blue eyed blond that caught the boys attention. What was sad, is looking back to my high school pictures, man I had a great figure. But, at the time, I thought I was fat. I suppose since my friends were a size 2 and I was a hefty size 10, that is probably when the body dysmorphia started. Where you look in the mirror and you see a completely distorted view of what you really look like.

That still happens. I've lost 60 lbs now. Trust me, I know when I say the following statement, I am going to sound crazy, but I don't see it. I look in the mirror and I see my chubby belly and my fat ass.
I've gotten "I can see it in your face, your face is so thin now"
"I can really tell, you look great"
"I've had numerous people say to me have you seen Nicole lately?" (My response, who exactly and what word for word did they say)
"I'm so jealous of you" (Me??? Really?)

I adore it when people tell me I'm pretty or cute or beautiful or that they can see a change. I shouldn't adore it as much as I do...because I should be happy with myself and not have to rely on that feeling.
Maybe at some point I'll get there...but for now, can you just please know that I need you to feed my ego and I need to feel beautiful and keep the compliments coming?

I'll owe you one.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Holy Wow

I haven't written in a long ass time. Just in case you were wondering, that's longer than a long time. It's similar to an assload. And really...that should really be a standard unit of measurement.
Anyways, so my weight hasn't budged. So that blows. I think it's probably time for another fill. Getting filled makes me nervous though. I am just so scared to be too tight. A few weeks ago I got sick...I am pretty sure I had a touch of the flu and it irritated my band. I was pretty down and out for the weekend. My band felt really funny and tight. Once I resigned myself to the fact that I had irritated the band and only ate soup and drank gatoraide, it felt better and I haven't had a problem since. So, because of that, it's just nerve wracking to me to get filled and worry that it will be too much. I felt miserable due to the sickness, but also I was really worried that something was wrong.

But, I suppose if I just tell the doctor that I want a small fill, he knows what he's doing. Well, I sure hope he does or I was screwed a long time ago.

In other news, I'm still doing Team Challenge. We've had one pre practice that I've gone to, and one that I've missed. This weekend is our first real practice. I'm enjoying it. The most I've been able to do at a time is 2.2 miles. That's really because I get super bored on the treadmill. I have gotten a book on tape (ipod) and I'm going to try that instead of music and see if I can push through a little longer. I'll let you know how it goes.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Water wings anyone?

I'm probably the only one on the face of the planet that can go to an information meeting and leave in tears. I mean, there may be like one more crazy person out there like me, but I'm pretty sure that person has probably been institutionalized and put away for life.
Tonight, I went to an informational meeting for Team Challenge WI.
http://www.ccteamchallenge.org/Teams/Wisconsin_Chapter.htm
For those of you who don't know, it's a foundation that supports finding a cure for Chron's and Colitis, which my sister Kristin has. Team Challenge is the Crohn's & Colitis Foundation's endurance training and fundraising program. Through Team Challenge, you can run or walk a half marathon, train for a cycling event, or experience a sprint triathlon while helping to find a cure for Crohn's disease and ulcerative colitis, two chronic and often debilitating digestive diseases that impact 1.4 million Americans.

So, back to me...because we all know, everything is about me and the only reason I write this blog is so I have somewhere to put my narcissistic thoughts. I decided to do this for weight loss...to have some semblance of a training program that will force me to exercise and get healthy and not just rely on the lap band. It just so happened it was a win/win because it's a foundation for something my sister suffers from.

Rainbows and ponies and unicorns right? Should be. But here's where it gets all dark and harry potter like. See, the first thing I had to do was go to this meeting...BY MYSELF. I mean, I talked about putting myself out there, right? But, I just had to put it into action. It was all I could do to keep from running out of the room screaming "Don't look at me". (What? I never claimed NOT to have issues).
If you'll remember my previous blog post, it talked about the whole getting myself back, putting myself out there, making friends, and no longer hiding. In theory, that was a fantastic idea. Like, if they gave olympic gold medals for that shit, I'd be right up there winning. (Winning, duhhh). Ideas, however, have to be turned into plans.

So...now I've committed to something (which don't get me wrong, I WANTED to commit to),  but now there is all this other stuff out there. Now I have to make friends. Now I have to open myself up. What if people don't like me? What if I make a fool of myself? What if I fail? I've been hiding behind weight and living like a hermit protecting myself for so long, making excuses about why I can't hang out with people, that the action of actually getting out there and meeting people and participating and putting myself out there, is A LOT scarier than I even expected it to be. I guess I didn't realize how utterly shattered my self esteem had become, even though I project such a hard shell.

I was talking to one of the mentors after the meeting, Jo, who I know a little through twitter and a little through beer and no sooner did I say, I'm glad I did this, but I'm really nervous, did the tears start to fall and I had to leave before anyone else could see. And good god, we all know I cry over everything, so it's not like it's something they won't see a million times in the future.

I didn't expect my weight loss journey to be so emotional. I guess I should stop expecting what it's going to be like, and just let it happen. 

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Emotional Rollercoaster

And not the fun kind. Well, for me, rollercoasters aren't fun anyways because I tend to vomit. So there's that.
I've been thinking alot lately about how gaining the weight affected me emotionally. It's funny because you don't realize how terribly it affects you until you're kind of out of the trenches. The bombs have been dropped, you're looking around at the aftermath, and you're going What the HELL just happened?
Who knew LOSING the weight was going to turn my life into a scene from Saving Private Ryan?

Now that I'm slowly but surely getting my self esteem back I realized what I've missed out on the past year. There have been chances to meet and get to know and forge some great relationships with people that I talk to via twitter...and I let them slip right through my hands.

Not because of them....but because of the crazy that lived in my head. (It's still there by the way, it's just decided to show it's face in a different form). Many of the thoughts that ran through my head were things like:

1) Don't go to places where you will see twitter friends in person...they don't know how fat you really are and once they see you the gig will be up (this leads to #2)

2) How could they possibly like you? Your personality is NOT awesome enough to outweigh the fat

3) And just so you know, if you DO go to any events or tweet ups, you WILL be the outcast

So...there you go, decision made. Do not leave the house. Stay on your couch. Hide behind the computer. Put up a wall and ACT TOUGH. Problem solved.

Except now...problem not solved. New problem created. Now that I've lost 60 lbs and counting, I realized what I've missed out on. I realized that I have my two best friends (who I wouldn't exchange for the world) and that's it. I realized that there are some GREAT people out there that I have missed forming bonds with and I have cheated myself out of book clubs, and bar visits, and dinners, and wine tasting, and girls nights, and just simply forming friendships and having FUN.

So now what? Now I hope people will give me a second chance. Now I hope that I can overcome the scaryness of trying to put myself out there when all of these people have already formed these bonds.
I might be even more scared now than I was when I was hiding behind the weight. But I promised myself my 30's were going to be the best years of my life. I don't want to look back on my life and feel like I missed out....
The thought of doing that, putting myself out there, allowing people to get to know me, to see that I'm shy until I feel comfortable enough to open up...that's almost more scary than looking back and seeing that I did miss out...because the opportunity for failure is there.

And I don't want to fail.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Smarter than the average bear

Yeah. That. That's what's up. I'm the awesome.

I went to the doctor for a slight fill today. I just needed a small tweak so I didn't get over filled. But I was weighed in and then the nurse looked at me and said "Wow. You have lost close to 60 lbs since December. You are way above average for what most people lose".

Yeah bitches. I win. I don't know who I was competing against, but it doesn't matter because I won.

In other news, have I mentioned I've lost almost 60 lbs? I actually wore a size 16 pants to work today. I'm in shock and awe. Everytime I try on an old piece of clothing that I never thought I would get back into I want to run around the neighborhood and scream. I imagine the police would be called, but it would probably be worth it.

In the past two weeks I have had about 4 people come up to me and tell me that I was looking awesome. Today someone came up to me and said "Ok, what is your secret?" and I flat out told her without hesitation. I want people to know what I did. I want people to know that it was the best decision of my life. I want people to know our insurance covers it 100%. I want people to not be afraid like I was. I want to hold someone's hand through it. I want people to have the feelings that I've been feeling. I want people to get their confidence back.

Speaking of confidence, it's amazing how much I've gotten back. It was getting to the point where I didn't want to see anyone. I didn't want to leave my house....and now I can't wait to get back out there again.

Have I mentioned I win? Because I do.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Suck it, Fat

I tried on some old jeans I had saved this weekend. You know the ones...the ones you suddenly can't button, but they are so comfortable you can't bear to get rid of them even though you figure you will never fit into them again even if you had a crane on each side helping you pull them closed. (Oh hey run on sentence).

I was going through my drawers and I thought, hey, I feel like being depressed. Let's try these on and see how long I have to go to fit into them.
But.....to my surprise, I was able to button them. AND zip them. And then I got all crazy like and decided to try on my hooded sweatshirt from Ireland that I couldn't fit into (hey Europe make some normal sizes, will ya?) And lo and behold that fit too! It was like I was on some crazy acid trip!!! (Actually probably not, I have no idea what an acid trip feels like, my guess not this).

So I'm officially in a size 18. 4 lbs away from having lost 50 lbs total. Someone at work told me yesterday I was lookin good...it's been a good week so far.

Now...I must focus on getting myself to the gym. I HAVE to start making it a priority.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Royal Flush

So yesterday I wrote about my wonderful "productive" experience. All day after that, I felt like something wasn't right. About 8pm last night, when I tried to have some water and it came right back up, I realized I was stuck.
That's a downright freaky ass feeling, I'm telling you. Like 1, 2 Freddy's coming for you freaky. Like the Halloween theme song all of a sudden playing out of no where freaky.

I started to panic, so naturally, I turned to the interwebs to fix things. The interwebs know everything.

There were many suggestions out there: papaya enzymes, pineapple juice etc...however, the suggestion that I found that I actually had in my house was lemon juice, gulping very hot water, and downward facing dog. 

Now look. I'm not condoning this for people who want to eat too much consistantly and then abuse their band. BUT. If you have an "accident" like I did and get something stuck, the above was like a miracle cure.
I had about 3 swigs of lemon juice, half a cup of hot lemon tea, and then went in the bathroom and did downward facing dog yoga pose and it almost immediately all came up, along with the chicken sausage that was stuck.

It was a miracle. I was in the bathroom yelling HALLELUJAH and Nils thought I was on crack.
But it worked. That's all that matters. And I learned my lesson. I don't ever want that feeling again. 

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Have a productive kind of day!

Yikes. Well THAT wasn't pleasant. I just had my first experience with "productive burping". I think it's hysterical that it got named that. Who was the first person that called it that? Let's just call a chicken a chicken and a duck a duck people. It's throwing up, upchucking, losing your lunch, blowing gravy, etc etc.

I had some chicken sausage for lunch. I either ate too quickly or didn't chew enough...or probably a combination of both. I can always tell when I've done that. My chest gets tight and hurty and I actually get a headache on the right side of my head. There must be some weird nerve or something that connects my "you ate too much" button to my head. I've never had it go this far though. I was sitting at my desk and it started to hurt. Then you know what happens when you like salivate when you're about to nom on something awesome? You get that extra saliva thing going on? That's what happened and I was like "THERE SHE BLOWS!!!"

So I ran to the bathroom and let it all out.
It felt better, but I don't want to do that again. It's not fun. Plus chicken sausage doesn't look so awesome the second time.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Stagnant

Not moving. Still. Hasn't budged. The same. Motionless. Immobile.
That would be the scale. I'm stuck at 244. So...here's the thing...remember that last post where I was all "Everytime I worked out in the past I stopped losing weight"? Um. Oh hey there scale. How come you aren't moving?

Ok, so in reality, this has happened a couple times. I've lost a big chunk and then I've seen the scale hold for a little while. Which is normal. I know my body is taking time to catch up to what's going on.

But I can't help but go into full on panic mode. Like there's a fire and my dog is stuck under the bed. Or I went on a shopping spree and spent all my money and now I can't pay my rent. Or, wait...do I want two pink lines or one???? TWO OR ONE DAMMIT!!!!!!!!!!

I thought it would calm my fears to go to the gym tonight but then I forgot my shoes at home. I suppose I can't go work on the elliptical in my leopard print heels, hey?

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Firey Death by Gym

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Yep. That about sums it up.

I was on the eliptical for a excrutiating 30 minutes and then lifted some weights. I expect that I will be sore tomorrow which will make me even more irritated about the gym. This morning I weighed in at 245. I'm a little worried that now that I've changed it up...the weight loss is going to stop. You know how it is, past predicts how you react to the future. Usually what happens is I work out and I don't lose weight...but I'm sure it's because I would always eat more. You have that internal monologue that says because I'm working out I can eat more.
(Side note: I just need to say that something fricken STINKS in my house. I thinnk it might be this protein shake that has been sitting here for a week)
Anyways, as nervous as I am that now my weight loss is going to stall, I'm excited about the possibility of the band helping with that. I still almost never get hungry, so I was not ravished when I came home from working out tonight.
High hopes people, high hopes.

I still hate working out. And I'm pretty sure the devil created gyms. My guess would be hell is entirely made up of treadmills. Just sayin.

Friday, January 28, 2011

The big 4-0

That's right. I turned the big 4-0. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be....(pssst...I was born in 1980, you do the math).

That's right people. I hit 40 lbs lost on the scale this week. (Weirded out is still the phrase of the day).

I really never thought it would be possible. Let's do some reflecting as well as looking at the future.
I'm a little hesitant to look back because I sort of want to slap myself. (I know, get in line, right?) I think about how happy I am now. For as many people who have told me that I seem so much happier, I can't believe how obvious it must have been how terrible I felt about myself. I wish there was a way I could go back and view myself like I was watching a TV show and look from the outside....I imagine it would be a giant eye opener.
Which then brings me to the point about how much time I've wasted. I'm not even going to talk about that anymore. I'm just going to leave that out there.

Looking to the future, Monday starts hitting the gym again. (Stay positive, stay positive, stay positive...a fork in the eye WILL NOT feel better than going to the gym)
I've lost 40 lbs in just short of 2 months. 2 more months from now is my first wedding dress shopping experience and I hope that I can lose another 40 lbs.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

What the hell just happened?

This might be hard for some to understand, but I'm kind of weirded out right now. (Side note: spell check doesn't recognize "weirded" as a word. Random fact of the day). I have to go to the fancy GE Healthcare Institute tomorrow. (Second side note: although if you work for GE, you would naturally think that would be a place with a padded room where we all go brush each others hair and talk about what the bananas say to us, sadly, it's not).

So. I knew I needed a new suit jacket, so I killed some time at Macy's today while my cat Christopher was getting shaved. Yes I said shaved. He gets a lion cut. RAWR. So I looked around and tried on some. I ended up purchasing a size 16. Let's rewind for a second here. I started this journey at almost a size 24 pants. I just bought a SIXTEEEEEN. I can't even remember the last time I saw that number. And I'm just about in a size 18 pants. This means that I am 3 short sizes away from being a size 12. A FREAKING 12. I never thought that would be possible again.....

........here's where it gets all Crazy Town. (Remember? I'm the President. Also, I plan on ruining next Tuesday night's TV for you with my State of the Union address, just wanted you to know).
I get the fact that I'm down sizes. I sort of can comprehend that. I can SEE that I'm buying smaller clothes. But when I look in the mirror, I don't see it. I see my fat ass and my gut. And the same size I saw in the mirror when I started this, I still see. So it's kind of weird thing to know in your head that you really are smaller, but then to have that total body dysmorphia going on.

Excuse me while I go talk to the bananas.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

These are the fills of our lives

I had my second fill yesterday. I now have 3.5 cc's in my band. I don't really know what's normal, or if there is a normal, or if it varies with everyone. I do remember them saying pre-op that as you lose weight, you lose fat around your stomach which causes the band to loosen again, triggering your need for another fill.

It's the weirdest thing...I know my Dr thinks I'm crazy (and I am but that's entirely besides the point). I told him that after my last fill I got really hungry and it seems to have happened again this time. I'm not STARVING like I was last time, but I am a bit more hungry today than I expected to be.
The fill yesterday went much more smoothly than the first one.

 I didn't even cry, which if you know me, is a feat beyond imagination. This time, I did NOT send my Dr whitewater rafting down the hallway of the hospital in a red innertube coasting on my tears. So, that's always a plus.

I seem to always be his last appt of the day, and he seemed to be in a hurry yesterday. He stabbed me with the saline before the numbing stuff had a chance to take effect, so it was a little uncomfortable, but definately not intolerable.

So. Today I weighed myself and I'm just shy of 40 lbs lost total. 2 lbs shy to be exact. It's hard to believe that in 12 short lbs, I will have lost 50 lbs. I can't quite comprehend it yet. I feel like I'm looking at someone else's scale when I weigh in. It's weird. Again...welcome to crazy town.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

I'm an asshole

And a hypocrite it appears. I guess at least I can admit it? This might get some very angry responses, and I'm ok with that. You don't have to agree with me....I almost can't believe I'm writing this myself...

I'm watching Say Yes to the Dress this morning. There's a woman on there who is VERY plus size and she is complaining that she can't find any sample dresses to try on for her wedding. Then they interviewed her mom who said something along the lines of "It's so sad that designers today don't keep the plus size girls in mind" and she started to cry.
Then later on she said "Come on, the average person isn't a size 6". 

I about jumped through the TV to punch both of them. No, the average person isn't a size 6, but they are maybe a 12 or a 14. Look...I've only lost 35 lbs. I still weigh 250 and am still considered plus size. I've only gotten down to a size 20, so it's not like I'm a size 2 who is saying these things. (Yes, I know I'm still an asshole). You know what? Lose some weight if you have such an issue with it. That's what I did...I didn't want to try to try on wedding dresses as a fat bride. So I did something about it.

We have an epidemic in this country. We are DYING in this country...in this world. And instead of bitching because designers don't make things in your size, do something about your health.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

All you have to do is do it.

So since my surgery, I haven't yet hit the gym. I know I have to...but if you know me, you know that I would rather walk over hot coals barefoot, while sticking a fork in my eye, while letting a clown rip my fingernails out than go to the gym.
Literally. (Do you see this face? Would I kid about clowns? I think not.)

I asked for super fancy Reebok balance ball shoes for Christmas to give me a little motivation. And again today, I said to myself, "Ok kid. Monday is it. YOU, my friend, are hitting the gym Monday after work, end of story."
I mean really, is walking for 30 min on a treadmill going to kill me? Probably. And when the paramedics come to take my lifeless body off the treadmill, at least I'll be covered in sweat when they do it. So there's that glamour vision as well.

Then, my BFF Sue (I was hesitant to watch because I assumed it was something completely inappropriate like clowns, talking lobster babies or something worse), sent me THIS LINK .
WATCH IT. I'M SERIOUS. DON'T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE.

I'm pretty sure I will go to the gym Monday, and if I try to talk myself out of it, I'm going to watch this video over and over and over.

Monday, January 17, 2011

Fire in the hole

Not really. Because if that were true I'd be one happy camper.

For the most part, there hasn't been anything to report. I've been holding at the same weight. Still hungry. Probably eating more than I should be, but really trying to watch it. I get my second fill next Monday. I'm still a little nervous because I still have this pain in my left side. It's the same pain, in the same spot that landed me in the emergency room. I can only assume it's gas. (Now you get the fire in the hole reference, don't you?)

It comes and goes as does the intensity. Friday evening I was in a lot of pain again. Not as bad as the ER visit, but that may have been because I knew what it was this time? 
At any rate, it's not as bad as it was, but it's still there...nagging...every time I take a deep breath, every time I have to sneeze....

I don't know what's causing it...I can't pin it on a specific food.
Normally I would have no problem just hitting up my GP and asking for an xray or some advice, but it's a new year, which means a new insurance deductible has to be met. My deductible is $800. I suppose, maybe it would make sense for me to just do it and get the deductible portion over with. Then any future issues I won't have so much concern. I know! Maybe I'll just move to Europe until this is all over. Because clearly that would cost me less money? Smart idea, genius.

In other news, we have a crap load of snow here in Milwaukee. It blows. 

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Starving

Like little children in Ethiopia. (too far?) I'm so hungry all the time. I don't get my next fill for two more weeks. This made me ponder something.
I'm feeling now, how I felt before the surgery, which got me to the weight I was...hungry all the time. Never satisfied, no matter how much protein I eat.
So, what this made me ponder, is how do normal skinny people do it? I mean, normal people, who don't have weight issues and who haven't had weight loss surgery.
Why is it that I feel hungry all the time? Do they? Do they ignore it? Do they have a way to conquer it? Are they actually NOT feeling hungry? If they don't feel hungry, what's so special about them? Is there a certain food that they eat that helps? They say protein is supposed to keep you full, but I'm eating protein like it's going out of style, and it's not helping as much as I'd hoped. If there is something that's helping them stay full, why are they not sharing it? Why are they hogging all the skinniness? And in all these years of medicinal progress where we have figured out a way to do practically anything, how have we not figured out a way to cure the hunger feeling, short of a lobotomy?

So. Many. Questions.

I mean, that's no way to go through life...feeling an empty belly all the time. It's miserable. Just ask those kids in Ethiopia.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

These are the shakes of your life...

I'm really tired of tuna. Like, I swear to god, if I see another can of tuna, I'm either going to turn into a tuna or murder someone. I feel like when people look at me all they see is tuna. And the above is not attractive. I mean, I hate Lady Ga Ga, so the thought of wearing tuna like she wore her meat dress makes me want to kick someone.
So I'm kind of struggling with high protein things to eat. When I do actually feel like eating, I either feel like I'm eating the same things over and over again, or I'm feeling guilty because I'm eating something that doesn't have protein, like cans of mandarin oranges. I know that I have to take a chill pill (who prescribes those by the way? )

And then I was sitting here tonight watching the Packers kick the Eagles ass (GO PACK GO) and I was thinking about how terribly I was craving some ice cream.
And THEN...I remembered that I have a whole recipe sheet of yummy protein shakes that I haven't taken advantage of. LIGHT BULB! GENIUS!
*scratches myself behind my ear* "Who's the smartest little protein sucker you know? Yes, you are snookums"

So. I took some milk, some chocolate protein powder, half a banana, some ice, some pineapple juice and chunks and made a yummo shake!

Tomorrow I'm going to get some lime juice and some vanilla waffers and throw those in a blender and have me a key lime shake. FUN!
(I already know I need a life, no sense in pointing it out)

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Gross-a-roo

Some random things have happened since surgery. And I have to think that it's all in this crazy town head of mine because I doubt squishing my stomach did this.
I was driving home from work yesterday and hadn't planned my meals out perfectly because I was starving. I was just thinking about how I couldn't wait to get home and eat because I was so hungry. Then I thought..."Well, I could just quick stop at McD's and get a burger and just eat the meat to hold me over."

I then proceeded to gag. And then I realized how thinking about fast food makes me want to puke. Like even typing this out, I'm trying not to gag.

Which is totally weird and random to me, because, hello? Who doesn't want a delicious Big Mac with special sauce? Or a giant bean burrito from Taco Bell? Because, before surgery, that stuff was the standard. I don't particularily care to cook....ok that's not exactly true. I pretty much hate to cook, I think it sucks, it makes my kitchen messy, it's too much work, and I should have a personal chef at my finger tips at all times.

Whatever triggered this aversion to fast food I certainly am thankful for. 

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Panic at the disco

What the french toast?
It appears the panic attacks have returned. See, the thing about my panic attacks is most of the time they aren't situational. I mean sure, sometimes they are--right before surgery, I knew that's what was causing the anxiety. But usually, I don't have one thing I can pin point that I can focus on to tell myself not to worry to relieve the anxiety. They just appear...out of nowhere, at any time, kind of like when Harry Potter removes his invisibility cloak.

I've always had trouble sleeping. I mean, for as long as I can remember. I've tried OTC sleeping pills, I've tried ambien, I've tried tea, I've tried melatonin...you name it I probably have tried it. Most of the time, I can fall asleep easily, but then I wake up in the middle of the night. Lately, it's been not even being able to fall asleep. I'm so exhausted and I want to close my eyes, and then just as I start to fall asleep, PANIC! My legs get weird, like I feel like I just can't stretch my legs enough and I start to feel like someone is sitting on my chest, and then I have to get up and walk around. I wonder if I have Restless Leg Syndrome sometimes. But I think it's more my anxiety and how it manifests? Who knows.

This is the first time the leg thing has followed me into the following day. The anxiety is still here too. Like dark horsemen of the apocolypse just following me around in their hoods being all horseman-ey and stuff.

I really need to go back and do yoga again. I feel like that really relaxed me when I was doing it with my co-worker. The whole bending thing right now though is a little challenging. So...in the meantime, I called the doctor and asked him to refill my lorazapam and ambien. He better do it.

Monday, January 3, 2011

Fill er up, Armando

In hindsight, I probably should have postponed today's doctor's appointment. I did want to go and see the Dr to make sure everything was healing nicely...just so I am not looking like Jaws attacked me inside or something.
I've been in pain a while now, right around my port. It's hard for me to bend over or lift anything. The Dr said it was normal, could be scar tissue, and it will just take some time to heal especially since I'm moving around more.
So, instead of using those MBA smarts I have and telling him I'll come back another day when I'm less sore, I decided to just go for it.

The Dr seemed to think it was ok to go for it as well. Which, with his track record, I'm not sure why I keep thinking he is the smartest tool in the shed. In the bedside manner, maybe you should heal first arena, he might be a taco short of a combination plate, bright as Alaska in December, the cheese slid off his cracker, etc etc etc.
So anyways, my fill was done in the office and took about 10 min tops. I laid down on the bed where he lifted my shirt a little (get your minds out of the gutter, this isn't some trashy novel with Fabio). My new favorite nurse gave me some kleenex because she knew I was going to cry, since you know, that's one of my hobbies.

The worst part of it was because I'm already in pain. He poked around and pressed around to find the port (OW) which hurt only because I'm still healing. Once he found the port, he numbed me, I felt some pressure while he poked around again (OW) and then, before I knew it, I was done. I have been salined. I really don't feel much different.

You're probably wondering where this Armando business comes in? Well if you weren't, you are now. I have decided that "the port" and "the band" seem so cold and unfeeling. I've decided to name the new addition to my body Armando.

Shhhhhh, that's enough talk for today. Armando is sleepy. And sore. 

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Welcome New Year

Wow. This is going to be a big year. I will be married in 10 months. And I hopefully will be skinny when it happens.

As of today, it's officially been one month since my surgery. And as of today, I weigh in at 258. Still staying right around the same I've been for a while, but that's ok. Tomorrow I am supposed to have my first fill. Although, I don't remember what time my appt is so that may have to be pushed back. Actually, the way I feel about my doctor, he should pretty much just be at my beck and call. Whenever I show up, he should just be ready for me. I figure he kind of owes me.
I'm still having some pain. Quite a bit around where my port is. The nurse said it's normal and it has been fairly manageable. I want to ask the doctor for some more liquid oxycodone, but I'm worried he's going to think that I am a druggie. I only take it at night and it really helps me sleep since that pain is managed. Maybe if I go in there and show him that I have no track marks and show him my bank account is empty, he'll understand that I do just want it for the pain.
I'm also going to head back to the gym this week. Just going to do some walking on the treadmill I think. At least until the pain around the port settles down.