onederland!

This past week there was a scale victory, and non-scale victory.

Scale victory
I have entered onederland!  It took a lot, lot longer than I thought it would, but I really haven't done much to move the process along, so it was a surprise, and I am so freaking grateful.  It has also motivated me to be better about what I'm doing to lose this weight.

NSV
This week at my new school they had the top ten students (which I am one of, yay!) do interviews with one of the top agencies in Chicago.  We had to dress for the interview, obviously.  In the past this would've caused a lot of drama since usually nothing in my closet fits, and I hate shopping since there are no appropriate clothes in any store in all of Chicago that would fit.  I would've cried and contemplated quitting school and staying in bed forever.  But this week I had a few options right in my closet that fit perfectly.  These clothes still had their price tags on them since I'd never been able to wear them.  I ended up going with long black pants, and an Ann Taylor top and cardigan that I love but I have never been able to wear before.  I felt awesome.

A year ago at my other school, one of my teachers invited me to shadow him while he went on jobs.  This was quite an honor to be asked, but I stressed about it for a week before declining because I knew I would never find appropriate clothes in my size.  Also, I could barely walk.

Things are different now.

I think I'm going to buy these shoes since I can wear flats now without excruciating consequences.  They're plum colored!

 

 

SanDi

San Diego! 

There was some good.  There was some bad.

The good. 
My friend Reyes and I found a "secret" beach.  I call it secret because there were only about 10 people on it.  About 2,000 less people than the beach we usually go to.  To get to this secret beach we had to climb down these scary, sheer cliffs.  Fifty pounds heavier I never would've even entertained the thought of having to crouch and balance and pull myself up.  But, fifty pounds lighter I managed with no problem and we spent the day on that amazing little beach.

The next day I went back with my cousin and I got up and down the cliff even faster.

This was the "easy way" up and down.  No stairs.

The bad.
There was weirdness between my cousin and me.  We are usually the best of friends, but on this trip everything felt way off and uncomfortable and I couldn't make it right.  Finally, she exploded on me one night in a restaurant and I spent way too many hours trying to figure out if any of it was my fault or what I could've done differently.

Anyway,  I'm almost done obsessing about it.

More of the good.
So, I flew back home and my parents picked me up from the airport and surprised me with a new car!  It was to replace the one I'd lent to my mom and never got back.  Now I can get to the gym and yoga and school and the grocery store.  No excuses! 

Not exactly what I would've chosen for myself, but it's iPod compatible and isn't that all that truly matters?

My mom cried when she saw me because I look so much smaller.  My dad keeps commenting about how much weight I've lost too.  My sister hasn't said a single word.  At first it hurt my feelings but now I just tell myself, "People are weird."

in motion

I'm leaving the desert in the next couple days, spending a few days in San Diego, and then back to Chicago to resume life.  I'm sad to leave here.  I'm happiest in the sun, near the mountains and ocean.  But I'm excited to start a new school, yoga, and going back to my gym.  I also miss my cats and my big bulldog Gus, and as much as they drive me cray cray, I do miss my family.

While I was here I had a good exercise buddy.  Every night around 10pm he would make sure we went for a walk.  At first it was less than a mile.  But we worked up to two miles.  Even if I didn't want to, which was most of the time, he got me up and off we went.  Even if I had gone to bed really early, I would wake up later, and no matter what time it was, I'd get out of bed for his little hopeful face.  I would never have done it for myself. 

 

When I first got here three months ago it hurt to walk.  The backs of my legs were so tight and the next day I could barely move and I was feeling actual physical pain.  Now I have no problems, thanks to Clyde.  Yay, progress!

 

 

Fiddy

I went a few weeks without weighing myself and feeling really depressed.  I've been off my anti-depressants for a few months and I really don't want to go back on them, but it was getting really bad.  Then, poof!  Suddenly I felt better.  I think I need to do some research on PMDD (premenstrual dysphoric disorder) because I have all the symptoms. 

Anyway, I finally got on the scale and I've met my first weight goal.  50 pounds down!  This means I can start yoga when I get home in a couple weeks.

 

 

The 50 pounds came at four months post-op.  I had really been hoping it would happen at two, but I'm not disappointed or beating myself up.  It's been hard getting to this point, and I'm still learning and failing, and trying again and figuring it all out.  There's a lot of food issues I still need to work out in my head and I still have the really bad habit of wanting to eat late at night.  But, I've done what I can and I've lost 50 pounds and that's more than I've ever lost on my own.  So I'm very happy about it.

I can finally say I'm really glad I had this surgery.  I never could've done this on my own.  I've had a lot of stress the last few weeks and that's when my sleeve has really kicked in and saved me, and prevented me from eating thousands of calories in comfort foods.  I admit I still ate some, but my sleeve would only let me eat so much.  So, yes.  I love my sleeve and I'm striving to work WITH it.

11 weeks and 40 down

I've officially lost 40 pounds!  This has inspired me and I've been making sure to exercise every night.  Even if it's really late and I'm tired, I make sure to get something in.  It's easy here in my aunt's community because it's gated and secured and I can just go out the door and walk for miles at anytime. When I get home I will have to plan everything a little better and make sure I get to the gym earlier in the day. 

Just 10 more pounds to go until I reach my first goal of 50.  I've promised myself when I hit that goal I can buy a new yoga mat and start going to the yoga studio regularly.  This will require more scheduling and time management skills, but I can't wait to go back to yoga.

The one on the left is the day before surgery.  The right is 11 weeks post op.

 

 

olives and edamame

I'm down 38 pounds.  I cheated and got on the scale the day before and it said I was down 40, but then that day I ate olives and the salt bloated me up two pounds for official weigh in day. 

It's kind of hard.  I didn't buy the olives for myself.  My aunt knows I love them and she bought my favorite kind, along with tortilla chips, bread, and artichoke spinach dip.  She also bought me lunchables, which I don't even know.  I've never in my life eaten a lunchable.  She got mad a week later when I didn't eat the dip.  Then I got mad, at myself and her.  I spent $20,000 plus on this surgery.  If I end up wasting a $3.00 vat of spinach dip, then so be it.  It happened last night too.  We went to dinner and I ordered the ahi tuna and a side of edamame.  She usually eats edamame so I thought we could share it, and if not, I coud take it home and eat it as a snack since there is no easy protein in the house. 

She got really mad when I didn't eat the entire bowl of edamame at dinner.  She said really snotty, "You sure as hell better be taking that home."  I got all hot and ragey but I controlled myself because there was another guest at dinner and I said, "Obviously I'm going to be taking it home."  I take home leftovers all the time.  I always have.   I don't know where her weird attitude is coming from, but I feel pressure to eat and I feel guilty about that spinach dip.  Like, should I offer to pay her $3.00 for the wasted spinach dip?  It's ridiculous because I know it's not about the money. 

Anyway, dealing with her issues about my food is frustrating.

california

I cannot figure out how to get my photos on here.  I've tried direct uploading, I've tried picasa and it just won't work.  I thought I was good at techy stuff too.  I will figure this out eventually.

Anyway,  I love being in California!  It was just too damn stressful in Chicago and all the triggers that make me want to eat all the time.  I'm going to stay here as long as I can, which I think will be the beginning of June, and get as much exercise and mental strength as I can before going back to Chicago and dealing with the everyday there.

I remember going to my first lap-band seminar here and then sitting out on the driveway crying to my mother on the phone because I felt like it was the answer I had been looking for, and it just seemed so completely out of my reach.  I remember feeling like I would've done it the next day if I could've.  Now, here it is three years later and I've had the surgery and I'm on my way to where I want to be.

This week I've managed to exercise every night.  I started out walking because my bike had flat tires from sitting in the garage since October.  My legs were real tight and it was painful, but I think they're starting to loosen up and it's getting easier.  Last night I got my tires fixed and I've managed to ride two nights in a row after walking.  I love riding at night when I have the streets to myself.

A pic of my beautiful bike was going to go here.

So that takes care of my cardio.  I really need to start focusing on strength training.  I thought I would just do some lunges and crunches myself, but I think I need to go a little bigger than that.  I think I need to just bite the bullet and go to my aunt's gym.  It's convenient enough and I'm pretty sure they have everything I need for my old strength training routine.  I just don't like how it's so open and there's no separate area for weights.  But you do what you gotta do, I guess.

back to Coachella

April 19 was my two month sleev-a-versary and I had hoped to be at my first goal of 50 pounds down so I could go to the Coachella music festival which I've had to miss for the last two years. The last time I went in 2010 I could barely stand for any length of time and walking was hard and sitting on the ground was painful.

Well, I didn't make my 50 lbs down goal, I've had three weeks of not losing anything, but I'm down 35 so I decided to go anyway.  I don't think my weight was a problem this time around, but being kind of weak from pneumonia was annoying.  I got winded easily and there was a lot of walking on dirt paths so I was coughing a lot.  I had a good time though.

Usually at Coachella I've eaten everything.  I was a little worried that two months out might be a little too soon with all the temptations I'd be facing, but I did pretty good, I think.  Some of my meal highlights were ahi tuna poke nachos with edamame hummus from The Lime Truck.  I didn't eat the chips and got full on the tuna so had to throw away half the hummus.  Throwing away delicious food is hard.  I had the chicken pesto arugula sandwich from the organic truck twice.  I didn't eat the bun obviously.  And one night I had a bowl of pulled pork topped with coleslaw. That was so delicious going down, but when I was done I was having problems.  I think I must've eaten too much.  I have a hard time eyeing portions.  I also had homemade Popsicles, lavender lemonade was the best! And various lemonades, blueberry, strawberry, and frozen.  I definitely drank a lot of calories this weekend, but it's hard to stay hydrated in the desert!

I will post some pictures when I get to my laptop.  And I will try to be brave and post some progress pics too.  I don't see any difference, but my cousin said my back is much smaller.

Anyway, going back to Coachella was my first goal/milestone and I did it.  Next up is going back to yoga and practicing regularly when I'm 50 down.

six weeks

Just yesterday I finally started feeling much better.  It's like the black cloud of anger and misery started to lift.  I was really regretting and hating this surgery.  I'm sure my black mood had a lot to do with having pneumonia, which I wonder if it's all connected.  I think my lighter mood has to do with the fact I've been able to exercise a couple times this week.  The endorphins are starting to kick in.  I got the okay to go back into the pool, but with the pneumonia recovery I haven't wanted to get in the water and my breathing still isn't great.  But I've lost enough weight that I can walk better, so I've been doing that.  I've been coughing up a lung, but I do it anyway.  And yesterday I went back to the gym and started lifting weights.  I'm so weak and I've afraid I've lost so much muscle mass.  My hips and butt are just total mush, and I've always had strong thighs, but now I imagine them all withered and tiny.  But I'm telling myself I'll get stronger.

I've been one week on general food.  Unfortunately my stomach is uncomfortable a lot of the time.  The only thing that doesn't hurt too bad is sashimi.  I ate it twice so far this week.  It feels kind of extravagant, but if that's the only thing that doesn't bother my stomach, so be it. 

one month down

This is my fourth week out from surgery.  It's been a hard, hard month.

Right now I'm in the midst of pneumonia.  I think the worst of that is over though.  Today is the first day I've been able to take a shower.  All the coughing has really aggravated points inside my torso.  I really hope I'm not doing any damage to my inner incisions.

I still haven't been cleared for exercise other than cardio, and still no swimming.  My incsion split open so that set me back a bit, I guess. I've been really kind of depressed and angry and I think it's because I haven't been able to swim.  I didn't swim for exercise, I swam for my head.

I was supposed to go to Phoenix next week to see family but I had to cancel because of the pneumonia.  I will go straight to California when I'm feeling better.  Hopefully by then I will be able to swim.  I won't have access to a gym, but I can do my own strenght training and my beautiful bike is there!  How I've missed my bike.  It won't be too hot yet, so I'll be able to ride during the day.

I've lost some weight, -25.5 pounds on my one month mark.  But I'm too sick to care much about it yet. So far the pros of this surgery are not outweighing the cons, I know that will change though.  Until then I just keep trying to do what I can do.

I'm not really a b*tch, I'm just hungry

Tomorrow I get to go to pureed foods and I'm hoping this will improve my mood, because I have been scarily grumpy ever since I got back from the hospital a week ago.  I've locked myself away from my family because I don't want to take it out on them.  I'm sure it's because I'm hungry.  And it's impossible to reach calorie goals existing on apple juice and broth so I'm sure a huge part of it is that.  Not to mention not being able to drive, go to the gym, bend over, and there was a huge snowstorm here a few days ago which makes it hard to walk outside.  So I've been really weak and tired.  I also have a lot of work to do for this week, and make-up from last week.  And the smallest things annoy me.

I have a doctor's appointment on Monday and hopefully I will be cleared to go to the gym and swim.  I'm still very angry with my surgeon's office.  There's no consistency and their disorganization scares me.  I was told to come in one week after surgery to get cleared to drive and go to the gym.  When I made the appointment, the very day they told me that, they couldn't see me for two weeks!  I got really mad and they squeezed me in for Monday, a little more than a week after the surgery.  It just gets frustrating dealing with a new person every single time.  I never saw my surgeon after the surgery, I saw other surgeons and various physician's assistants.  When I made my follow up appointment I found out the physician's assistant I like doesn't take appointments, so I'm seeing yet another new person.  It just gets frustrating.  Hopefully tomorrow when I can eat pureed beans and cottage cheese, something with a little substance,  I will feel much better about life.

home

Today was my first full day home.  I spent four days in the hospital.

I seem to have lost 8 pounds since the morning of the surgery.  Granted, I did have my period so some of that weight was imaginary, but I'll take what the scale says anyway.  Already my sciatica feels non-existent, and my back doesn't hurt.

Surgery itself went fine.  I have a single incision near my belly button.  There's lots of funny bruising and I'll post a picture of that below.  Surgery took 45 minutes and I spent two hours in the recovery room.

The narcotic pain meds made me too queasy, so I wouldn't take them.  My first experience with liquid pain meds was on an empty, newly sleeved stomach so of course they came right back up and I refused to take those again.  So, they had a problem managing my pain.  The second day was so miserable.  Finally someone put me on a Tylenol IV drip.  Most nurses were great about replacing it on time, but there was one I had to beg and bug and she was usually an hour and a half late with it.  I think if I'd had better pain management, everything would've been a lot better.

They were going to send me home with liquid Vicodin, but since I refused it in the hospital, they sent me home with nothing.  I was supposed to crush up Tylenol and put it in my liquids.  Tylenol didn't cut it at home and I spent a murderous evening plotting destruction before my mom came up with some expired Vicodin from her oral surgery.  I didn't even care it was expired.  I crushed it, put it in some pudding, and even though it was disgusting and counted as a meal, I took it.  I was able to sleep through the night.  HALLELUJAH!!  I just can't wait to be off the pain meds so I can eat food that isn't mixed with bitter medication. 

I have a lot more to post about my surgery, but Vicodin makes me sleepy and I need a nap. 

Here's what my belly looked like when I pulled off the bandage this morning.  I'm fascinated by the all the bruising that isn't even that near the incision. Those dark marks in the lower left hand corner are from giving myself the blood clotting injections.

tomorrow

Surgery is tomorrow at 8:45.  I have to be there at 6:15.

I spent the day dealing with the surgeon's office over my lost blood work.  They said it was canceled and not done.  The hospital and me were saying it was done.  We were there so we should know!  Turns out the lady at the surgeon center was looking at the wrong file.  NIIICE!!  I really hope I don't wake up from surgery with a bypass instead of a sleeve.  No apology or anything for all my stress and anxiety all weekend.  It was very frustrating, but at least it was distracting.  Now that everything is sorted out, I feel a sort of calm.

I took my citrus of magnesia, but nothing really happened.  Lots of stomach gurgling and some stomach cramps, but that's about it.  I was so proud of myself for taking that entire bottle.  I was so scared to swallow anything strange after last week's barium/crystal trauma, but I did it!

I'm just so ready to wake up tomorrow (pain and nausea free hopefully) and start working on the healing process and losing weight.  In a week I will be able to get back in the pool.  I'm just holding on to that.  I can't wait for all this anxiety to be over.  I can't wait to be able to say the hard part is over and I'm doing it.  I'm losing weight. 

3 more days

I feel much better mentally than I did yesterday.  My stomach is still a little angry, and my back muscles hurt so bad, I guess I used muscles throwing up that I haven't used in a while.  So much all that swimming does for me!

I talked to the lab at the hospital this morning and she said all my tests are there.  Everything they usually do for the sleeve was completed and she doesn't know what the surgeon's office was talking about.  She will call the surgeon's office on Monday.  She said there is no point in me fasting just in case for more blood work, because she doesn't know what more blood work they can do.

I came so close to telling my cousin about my surgery last night.  I haven't told her.  I've told very few people actually, because I just don't want to have to defend my decision, and I figure once they see what a success the surgery has been for me and my life, then I can tell them.  I need pure support right now.  I can't have anyone giving me their unresearched opinion on bariatric surgery at this time.  Then, I decided it was too much to put on her at this late date.  But then I realized, when my cousin finds out I did this and didn't tell her, she will probably be very angry.  We talk every single day and I've kept this from her. 

Whatever.  In the end, she wants me to be healthy and happy.  If she's mad, she will come around eventually.

I'm just nervous.  I don't ever want to be that sick again and now I'm scared about being that sick while hooked up to needles and in pain.  The nurse told me that there are a lot of muscles in the stomach and that's why there is pain. 

I really wish I'd thought to ask for some anxiety meds.

lots of pre-op freaked out venting contained in here

It's like all hell has broken loose.

The Friday before my surgery and three things happen:

1.  At my pre-op upper GI I had a really bad reaction to the crystals they gave me before my barium swallow in the morning.  I spent the whole day with my head in the toilet contemplating going to the ER.  Which is funny, because all this started ten feet from the ER.

2.  My surgeon's office proved themselves to be the...  factory?  auto shop? assembly line? I suspected they were, and were incredibly unhelpful, uncaring, and couldn't even return a phone call or give a message to my surgeon.  Not that I think he would care, but I feel like he should at least know that I had a reaction to something they were planning to give me after surgery as well.

3.  Fifteen minutes before they closed, the surgeon center informed me that the blood tests I had taken just that morning hadn't been completed correctly by the hospital.  I would need to call the hospital (although that department closed at 5:00 too) and set up the blood work myself for Monday.

The hospital didn't know what I was talking about.  They said my record showed everything was completed, and because I didn't know the name of the specific tests I was supposed to have done again, she couldn't help me.  Also, if I have blood tests again on Monday, that means a fast starting on Sunday, which bleeds into my fast for actual surgery.  That's a 36 hour fast before surgery.  Is that really okay? 

So much anxiety and worrying for the weekend.

Anyway, I had a meltdown.  At first I was going to cancel all together, mostly because I don't want to be sick again, but the message boards were really helpful and I still want the surgery.   Then I was angry.  Do I really want to give every penny I have to a surgeon center that doesn't care?

The angry part of me wants to cancel, get a good chunk of my money back, and go to Dr. Bobby in California.  I could stay with my aunt since I'm doing online classes next quarter also.  I met with him when I was looking into lap-band three years ago.  He was amazing, and his staff was amazing, and all his patients adored him, and he was very hands on.  I remembered today when I was at a loss as to who to speak to at my surgeon's office that Dr. Bobby gave his cell number to all his patients, and every patient was assigned a point person that worked with them for the entire process.  They also seemed to have amazing post-op follow up.  If this is the care I get pre-op, I'm scared to think what it will be once they have all my money.

five more days

Today was my final pre-op appointment with the surgeon.  I've been really busy with school, not thinking about surgery, not worried about it at all, and then he started going through how they put needles in my hand and sedatives for anesthesia and things down my throat, and I unexpectedly burst into tears.  I just felt so bad for abusing and hating my body so bad for all these years and now I'm voluntarily going to let someone cut into my perfectly unscarred belly and take half my stomach and stick something down my throat while I'm unconscious.  Ugh.  I'm so sorry, body.  I'm going to treat you like gold from now on.

Also.  I'm trying to be really positive about everything, but after rescheduling my appointment from 4 to 1, they had me sitting in the waiting room for an hour and fifteen minutes.  And the unprofessional receptionist was there, bad mothing a patient she had on the phone to one of the nurses.  And, I asked one of the nurses about feminine products during surgery, since I will very unfortunately be on the dot, and she was very unhelpful and embarrassed me by practically shouting tampon several times in a very small office with a waiting room full of people just a few feet away.  I guess I could've asked the doctor, but I didn't, and I still don't have the answer to my question.   That was just today.  Every time I deal with them there is something I find so blatantly unprofessional,  but whatever.  As long as I come out of this surgery alive, complication free, and minimally scarred, none of the rest should matter.

Tomorrow are my pre-op tests.  I'm pretty sure I start fasting at 8 tonight... but I can't find my notebook and I'm just praying that I'm right about it being a 12 hour fast and not 24 hours.  Here's hoping I don't puke up the barium for upper GI. 

In awesome news, I bought a full length mirror to track my progress!

this time next week

This time next week I will be sleeved! 

I've been throwing myself into school work to keep my mind off obsessing about food (this pre-op business is excruciating!), and I feel like I should be doing something to prepare for the hospital, but I don't know what.

The pre-op liquids were a little, tiny better today.  I wasn't hungry until after the gym and then I was shaking and weak.  I ate a light dinner.  I'm really nervous about this.  I got so much differing info about the pre-op liquid diet, so I went with what my surgeon said in the beginning and allow myself to have a light dinner.  Tilapia and salad.  It makes all the difference, because otherwise, I would seriously be camped out at Taco Bell right now.  For me, quitting food cold turkey for two weeks is freaking impossible.

I'm kind of envisioning them saying I can't have surgery because I did the pre-op liquids wrong.  Then I envision myself telling them to shove it, demanding all my money back, and driving straight to Gino's East for pizza. 

February 19, 2013

February 19th is the magic day!

I'm on my third day of liquid diet and my dad is cooking our Sunday breakfast downstairs and the bacon smell is making me want to weep with sadness for all that I have lost.  Yes, liquid pre-op is making me a little emotional and overdramatic.

So yes!  February 19th!  That is nine days away! Less than two weeks.  February is usually my least favorite month, but now I will always look at it as where one of the most important days in my life happened! 

But other than that, I can't really say I'm excited about surgery, or nervous.  I just want it to be over so I can get to working on losing while not being so freaking hungry.  I want to start seeing results and knowing this is possible.  I CAN lose weight.  Imagine my face when I saw I gained one whole pound after my first day of liquids.

dun dun dun

AAAHHHH!  There was a voicemail from the surgeon's office wanting to set up my surgery date!  I'm blogging instead of calling them back.

So much to think about.  I'm sure they aren't really going to plan their lives around me, but I think I want to do this after my TOM, or as I refer to it, the dot.  But that's like three weeks away. 

Then I wonder if I should wait until I'm on break from school, which isn't until March 21.  I'm having such a hard time in school right now.  I'm in court reporting school, which isn't like normal school.  I already went to college, a really good, famous, competitive east coast college and that was freaking CAKE compared to court reporting school.  I was kind of thinking in my head that even on the day of surgery I could get my four hours of practice in at the hospital, because I can't afford to take any days off.  But, that's probably not realistic.  But if my surgery is going to be at the end of the quarter, I might as well wait until the quarter is over, rather than just blow the whole quarter in the last weeks.

Ugh.  Priorities.  What is my priority?  This surgery, which I've planned my whole life around.  I switched to online classes because I knew I'd be getting surgery this winter.  Or, school.  I've been training to be a court reporter for the last three years and it's so hard, and I want to quit every day, but I love it also, and I don't want to do any backsliding.  And it's sad to think that four days to a week off for recovery could make me backslide and blow a whole quarter of hard work, blood, sweat, and tears, but that's how it is for me.  On the other hand, repeating a quarter isn't the end of the world.  This is a marathon, not a race.  The longest, most grueling, exhausting marathon ever, but nothing worth it is ever easy.

Okay.  Enough drama.  I'm going to call the surgeon back now.  Going forward full speed ahead!  No more wasting time!  No looking back, or second guessing.

no more fun

I'm just sitting here waiting for my surgery date.  They were supposed to call yesterday... maybe they'll call today. 

I went to see my psychiatrist yesterday for a meds check.  Even though I've been kind of wary of him for over-medicating me for five years (and that 6 month period where I thought I was dying, but it was just because he had me taking meds that aren't supposed to be mixed together, ugh!), he was very helpful yesterday.

He was excited about my surgery, which is a difference from all of the other doctor's I've seen who tell me they can't believe I'm big enough to qualify.  He said it's good to get it to prevent more weight gain, and diabetes, and basically more of a preventive measure.  He also walked me through all the things I'm freaking out about, like the catheter in my hand, and the anasthesia.  We also talked a little about how the people in my life might pose some challenges to my success.

My dad always makes me dinner most nights of the week.  We sit down, and talk, and it's the only way I really get to spend undistracted time with him.  My sister, on the other hand, stopped eating the way we eat years ago.  She usually makes her own meals, is on her own schedule and doesn't sit down to dinner with my dad.  I think my dad and I are closer, and part of me thinks it's because we eat together and I eat what he puts in front of me.  I've been nervous about that.  How will things change when I can't eat what he makes anymore?  This past weekend, I only ate one serving, and even though I was full, my instinct was to get up and get more because my mom and dad were still eating.  Instead, I didn't.  And my dad was like, "There's more.  Is that all you're going to eat?" and I felt like his feelings were hurt. 

Then last night, I was just too freaking tired to do anything and my mom wanted to go out to dinner.  That's our thing.  She and I have eaten our way through every restaurant in this city.  And I'm really worried how things will change, because I really plan to not eat out even a quarter as much once I'm sleeved.  But last night, I just didn't want to go out.  I was tired, I didn't want to get dressed and put on my snow boots, and I wasn't hungry.  And even though my mom often eyes what I put in my mouth, she got mad!  First she said, "You're running out of time to eat out."  She tried bribing me with my favorite restaurant.  Then she flat out yelled, "You're no fun anymore!" 

That bothered me.  But it just reminds me that I'm going to need to be strong and really responsible for myself and what I NEED to do to be successful. 

sleepy times

I met with the dietician today.  It was... strange. I was excited for this meeting because this is the key to the whole thing, right? Bodies are made in the kitchen, success depends on what I'm putting in my mouth, etc. etc.

Well, the dietician I met with was having a problem staying awake. She kept nodding off, while she was talking to me! and while she was talking to me, she wasn't making much sense. I was like this the whole time:

In telling my sister about it later, I was like, I don't blame her. Her office was hot, and there were no windows or oxygen. Or maybe she had narcolepsy. And my sister said, "NOT YOUR PROBLEM!" Then she said she thinks I'm too understanding and take too much b.s. and make too many excuses for other people. Maybe. But I've felt that horrible sleepiness before.  Never when I'm actually meeting with a client or talking to someone though.  She could've said she was sick and rescheduled me, or passed me off to one of the other dieticians since this is my only appointment regarding food and diet.   

I kept asking her if I should measure and how much exactly. And she would mumble, "You could do that." I kept asking about specific calories.  She kept saying to eat until I feel satisfied. Lady, if I could stop when I was satisfied I wouldn't be needing surgery!  And she kept mentioning rice and how to eat only one cup of rice. It was my understanding, that after being sleeved, I most likely will not be eating a lot of rice.  I was so confused!

Anyway, I don't want to be too negative about her.  She is probably very good, just not at her best during our meeting. It just reinforces the fact that this is all going to be my responsibility. I will just have to do some more research on my own. Maybe I should find another dietician. There's supposedly a pretty good one at my gym.  I just don't want anyone trying to talk me out of surgery, which people have been doing lately. 

Tomorrow at my surgeon's office there is a sleeve/bypass support group, followed by one of the behavioral change classes. I'm not required to go to any of those, but I kind of wanted to. Unfortunately, it starts at 8am and here it is already 3:30am. I stayed up trying to catch up on work that's due Sunday. I don't know if I'll be able to get up in four hours, but I'm going to try.

Supercat

Today I handed over payment for the surgeon's costs.  I still have to pay several thousand to the hospital, and I found out the pulmonologist is going to be "roughly $500 for the initial appointment."  Initial?!  At $500 a pop, that better be the only pulmonary appointment I have.  Ugh.

Anyway, when I handed over the check at the surgeon's office, I wanted there to be bells ringing, or some kind of fireworks display; something signifying THIS IS IT!  I'M DOING IT!  This is a big freaking deal for me.  I'm not rich.  I'm a full-time student who has struggled to pay rent my whole life, and this surgery is costing me every penny I've saved.  Plus a little more which is going to come from somewhere yet to be determined... the heavens, maybe?  This is the most expensive thing I've ever purchased, but I'm looking at it like this:

I'm buying my life.  I'm buying my happiness (or getting closer to it).  I'm buying my health, and I'm buying energy so I can make those other things happen.  I'd rather have any single one of those things instead of a new car, or my own place, or a trip to Italy, or a trip to the moon, etc. etc.

So when I handed over this check I wanted it to be a momentous occasion.  I wanted to have deep profound thoughts about it, and everyone in the doctor's office to look at me with reverence.  Instead, we were all distracted by this story on the news of this amazing little cat who was lost but walked 200 miles to get home.  She followed the Interstate and kept the ocean to her left!!  AMAZING LITTLE CAT!  I don't even remember giving them the check.  All I could think about was this poor cat's blistered paws, and if this Supercat could walk 200 for her life, I could go to the gym everyday and be happy about it.

January 18, 2013

Today is my birthday.  I kept thinking, next year is going to be different.

I haven't let myself be in any pictures in a long time, but I let it happen tonight.  I'm going to have something to compare a year from now.

It was only my parents, sister and her fiance at my dinner.  I've really lost contact/pushed people away as I've gained this final weight.  I don't want people to see me.  I don't think it's that they would judge me or like me any less... but the way I feel, and the way I feel about the way I look, has really had an effect on the way I deal with the world.  My world.  I've checked out.  I've isolated myself.

Tonight my sister wore a cute outfit and did her hair and makeup.  She made an effort.  She makes an effort every day.  I contemplated getting up from my evening nap to take a shower, decided against it, put on the jeans and hoodie that I've worn every day for the the last year and fell into the car.  I stopped bothering or making an effort a while ago.

That's why I can't let myself think for one possible second that I'm not getting this surgery.  Yes, it's scary.  But it's scary because I'm going to have a new life.  This sick, unhappy person that I am now, is going to change.  And that's scary, because I have been this person for so long and I'm used to her.

I know I'm not magically going to be an extrovert throwing myself huge parties when I weigh less.  I'm never going to be that girl and I don't think I'll want to be.  I know I'm not going to magically be happy.  But I am going to change direction from where I'm headed if I don't get the surgery.  Without surgery, I'm headed nowhere good.  With surgery, I will have possibility and no excuses.

things are starting to happen

I feel like everything is happening really fast.  Or, the fact it's happening at all, after thinking about this so long, is freaking me out a little.  I met with the patient liason today.  I have my psych eval and ultrasound next week.  I'm supposed to set up my pulmonary appointment and and nutrition class myself.

I'm supposed to bring in the surgeon's portion of the payment next week.  It's when I think about the money, actually giving them a check for thousands of dollars that it all feels crazy to me.  Am I really going to do this?  I mean, of course I am.  But, really?!

After the appointment I went to potbelly for lunch.  I do not feel mentally ready to have gastric sleeve.  I don't know what I'm supposed to eat.  Maybe I haven't recovered from that fateful trip to Minnesota, because I WANT to eat sandwiches and soda.  Usually I eat them because they are easy, right now they feel like the only food in the world. 

At least after potbelly I went to the gym.  I wasn't going to because I got a late start today, I'm two days behind in school work, and I already took a shower today (it is true that I sometimes base whether or not I work out that day on if I can bear to shower and do my hair again).  But I thought JUST DO IT! and I drove to the gym.  And for the first time ever, I did two miles in a row.  One kicking and one water walking.  The walking part took a long time because sometimes in the deeper end I lose my footing and float away.

The last week has been quite the ordeal and I've fallen back on my old habits.  I had to go to western Minnesota with my mom to see some really sick relatives.  It's hard to get fresh food up there.  I brought my own snacks, but the second night I just couldn't eat cheese and crackers for dinner and after seeing how my cousin was preparing dinner, I didn't eat that either.  Good thing, because my mom ended up with food poisoning and was sick in the car 12 hours back to Chicago.

We didn't know it was food poisoning though.  We thought it was the flu everyone else had, and I was feeling a little ill myself, my stomach was cramping and I was really feverish.  Maybe it was stress, or maybe a touch of food poisoning myself, but I wanted soda.  I wanted it more than anything I've ever wanted in the world! So I drank 7Up on the way back to Chicago.  It really did make my stomach feel better.  It also calmed my nerves.

Watching my mom be so violently ill I was thinking, if I get WLS surgery, how could my new stomach possibly handle the trauma of that level of retching?  I don't think it could.  I think it would explode or be ripped apart.  And I had to put surgery out of my mind for a few days, and even though there were two calls from my surgeon's office on my voicemail.  I didn't check them.  I couldn't deal.  I don't think I deal with stress very well.

But no one has the flu, thank God.  And now I'm home, back in my safety zone and I can go off soda again and go back to the gym.  I returned the calls to the surgeon's office and they were just calling to tell me my Vitamin D levels were good.