Bariatric surgery stream of consciousness

I didn't really know what to write about, but I keep having people tell me it's been too long since I've updated.  So I'm going with a stream of consciousness thing.  Let's try the "Good news, Bad news" thing.

Bad News (let's get it out of the way)

• I've been off-program.  REALLY off-program.  I haven't been working out, and I've been grazing in the evenings instead of eating my meal and then stopping (this, by the way, is the surest way to failure after surgery).  I couldn't figure out what had changed until clumps of hair started falling out again.  Ta-DA!  My thyroid is extremely low (for me), which translates to weight gain and extreme tiredness (which then translates to skipping the gym and eating continually to keep your energy level up).  Now that we know what's going on and have adjusted my thyroid dose, I've started working out again, feeling better, and slowed down the grazing.  But I still have work to do on the eating thing.
• My weight is not changing.  The doctor took out about 12lbs of fat, and I weigh the same now as before surgery.  Some of it is still swelling, I'm sure, but I also think my thyroid hiccup and the resulting changes is a big part of that.
• My cravings have come back.  The doctor told me this would happen eventually.  I hate it when other people are more right than me.  I do know that if I can kick the carbs completely for about a week that the cravings will subside (although not disappear completely).  But it truly is a miserable thing to do.  Think about all the movies you've seen about people going cold-turkey off drugs.  That's what it feels like to quit carbs--it ain't fun.  But you do feel better afterwards, and you find that you don't have the same cravings, or that they are more manageable.

Good news:

• Pilates (with a one-on-one trainer) has been an absolute god-send for me.  Not the mat-based pilates that you see at the gym or on workout videos.  That crap is HARD.  But the real thing, on the real machines (that look like torture devices), with a real instructor guiding you along so you don't hurt yourself.  See, when you do it on your own, with just a mat, you have to use your body weight for resistance.  On the machines, they take away some of that resistance so you can still do the same moves, but more easily (and less likely to hurt yourself).  I find I look taller and leaner, and I love the concentration it requires.  It's helped me rehab my knee and get my muscle tone back in my legs.  It's helped my feet and ankles, which has re-trained the way I walk.  If you can afford it, I highly recommend it.
• I am still enormously lucky.  I have a supportive family who loves me, and who is willing to help me along every step of this process.  A big part of that is the financial assistance, which I don't know if I'd have been able to get the quality surgery that I had.  My insurance company, that starts with a K and means a German General, had approved me for surgery with a waiting list of 1 year.  They also were not designated a Center for Bariatric Excellence at the time (although they are now), and that was a big deal to me.  So I was able to go the self-pay route with the best doctor in the area because of the help from my family.  They also helped cover my other bills when I was off-work (with no salary) during recovery, and who is helping me with the surgical "business."  And, to boot, they are loving and supportive, and just generally good people with good humor.  Yes.  I am seriously the luckiest person I know, and I don't take it for granted.

Think of your own "good news bad news" list.  It helps me to get perspective, and might do the same for you.  

Quick update

Yup.  I had the lipo, and it went great.  I'm not really all that much smaller, but it's amazing how different my shape is.  The best part, I can wear tan color pants.  Yup.  I actually went out and bought some khakis.  Size 16.  Low-rise (I didn't even really know what that meant, but apparently when you're short and you're buying pants that aren't elasticized, it's the way to go).  Very little pain, very low recovery time, and now it's just waiting 6 months before deciding on the skin thing.

Here's the thing, and why I haven't been blogging.  I'm off in Babe-land again.  I really don't feel like examining my soul, or thinking about what works and what doesn't.  I just want to get out and live life.  But my problem is the same problem I've always had--that I am all or nothing.  So I'm not finding a good balance of introspection and still living "in my body" so to speak.  I'm in, or I'm out.  Frankly, the recent plastic surgery has put me much more into my body, and driven out the desire to stay at least a little into my head.  I've started meditating again, hoping to find some balance.  You'll know if it's working if you see more posts soon.

In the meantime, let me leave you with this fabulous little find:  The Laproscopic Bypass kit, sold on Amazon.  I actually found the post making fun of it, and celebrating all the sarcastic reviews it got.  Just for fun, check it out here (it's number 2 on the list).  Enjoy, and hope to see you again soon...

Upcoming surgery...

Folks, it's been a long time.  I've been avoiding again, and drifting into Babe-land.  I've had a lot of emotional stuff coming up, and I've been trying to find ways of dealing by distraction.  Sometimes it's overeating, or unconscious eating, sometimes it's just staying too active to think.  Only one of those is actually productive to becoming the person I want to be, but they are all distracting me from the real stuff going on.

Here's the thing.  I have what I like to refer to as "The Business."  When I mention this phrase, it comes complete with a gesture where I indicate the area I'm referring to with what roughly looks like I'm rubbing a budda belly.  Only the gesture covers from the top of my belly to the top of my thighs--the area where The Business is taking up unwanted residence.

See, many people with massive weight loss develop what's called a "pannus" after surgery, which is a hanging belly consisting of hanging skin and (frequently) a stubbon fat pad.  I'm lucky in that I have only a little of that going on.  It's irritating, but not the end of the world.  The main issue I have is that same phenomenon happening in the pubic area.  It's embarrassing, disturbing, restrictive, and humiliating.  Hence the more innocuous and inarticulate term, "The Business." 

Despite the weight loss I find my movement is very restricted by it.  I can't really cross my legs, or keep my legs together very well.  I don't wear pants that fit because I'm too worried it will look like I'm smuggling a fighting chihuahua in the crotch.  I'm stumped on how to "spot reduce"--there are no machines at the gym that really target that area, you know?

So I consulted with a plastic surgeon.  I didn't know if there was anything that could be done to solve this issue for right now, with the expectation that somewhere down the road I'll be addressing a tummy tuck and skin removal, maybe take care of the extra skin under the arm, and put my boobular area back to where nature intended.  For all of that, I want to be much closer to my goal.  But this issue just cannot wait. 

At the surgeon's, I found out it's a combination of a fat pad that is very stubborn and resistant to weight loss, and the loosening of the skin after massive weight loss.  And yea, nothing but surgery can fix it.

So at the end of the month I, The Babe, am going in for liposuction.

That is really hard to say.  I tell people it's the first step in the surgery to remove skin and such, which it technically is.  But to tell people I'm having lipo sounds like I'm some vain rich lady who is trying to get rid of her last 10 "vanity" pounds without giving up her expensive wine habit or (gasp!) sweating.  It makes me feel like I'm being ridiculous; like I should be content with having just lost 155-160 pounds and not worry about how I look.  Like I'm self-centered and awful.  And on top of that, it is a big chunk of money that I don't really have, but that my parents are willing to spend, and so I feel like a huge spoiled brat who is taking advantage of their hard work and savings.

But it's also that I've worked really hard to lose weight, and I deserve to wear a pair of pants that fit in something other than black.  It's that this is a problem that cannot be fixed by eating less and exercising more.  And that I am the luckiest person in the world to have parents who worked hard all their lives so that they could afford to do things for their kids that will change their lives for the better.

So this is a very emotional decision for me, mixed with happiness, excitement, guilt, worry, vanity, and everything else you can think of.  And what fat people do when they are overwhelmed with emotion is eat.

So my best solution, both for my health and my weight loss, is to come to terms with the emotions this stirs up, get into the reality of the situation, and allow my eating to fall back into the pattern of 80-90% protein, some fruits and veggies, very few other carbs, eating small portions, and eating consciously.  I've given myself a full 2 weeks for the freak-out, and now it's time to touch base and get back to the New Normal of caring for my body and my self.

Wish me luck...

It's time...

Just reaching out, because it's time.  I tend to wander off the path, and this blog (and all the ones I check and read on a regular basis) seems to keep me on track best.

So I had a few minutes this morning to check in and see what was what in virtuality today, and I am so glad I did.  Please go see a few of these excellent posts:
Shrinking Blubeari
Eggface
Send a congrats to Sheila
And a shout-out to HFP

Hope you like them (and get as much from them as I do).  I have to run off, but I feel a little more centered than I did before.

Thank you all...

Really? Time for New Rules...

Oh dear.  I'm afraid I've encountered another situation that requires me to look at the individual in question and say, "Really?"  It is actually an expression of disbelief, and requires a certain knack for sarcasm (i.e. certain Adorable Moms--Alma, this means you again--need not even try this one).

I was at the gym with Goldilocks and went to wash my hands.  As I'm at the wall dryer-thingy, I spy out of the corner of my eye a woman sidle up to the sink.  Right next to me.  There are 8 sinks along the wall, and she had to use the one right next to me.  Okay fine, right?  Odd, but fine.  That is it WAS fine until I see her hoist her bare foot up and into the PUBLIC sink, where she proceeded to wash her toes.  Did I mention that she was Right. Next. To. Me. 

Of course I ran like a lawyer out of church into the next room, palms still damp, to report this breach of etiquette to Goldy.  She could hardly believe it either.  So we casually walk past the sink area together, and this woman has gone from washing her feet in the PUBLIC sink to saturating her hair from the sink.  At this point, I'm wondering why the woman didn't take the 20 extra feet to the showers?  And I'm wondering how to turn her in to the gym police.

As a recent convert to the gym scene, I did check in with Goldy to make sure this sort of behavior is not common (she was decidedly against it).  And I thought, as a public service, I should create a list of my Top Five New Rules for those who are new to the gym, as I was just a few months ago.

Rule #1:  DO NOT WASH YOUR STINKY FEET IN THE PUBLIC SINK!  I would have thought this was obvious.  Apparently not.

Rule #2:  The comfy chairs they put in the women's locker room are there to use while waiting on your gym buddy, not for you to lean bare-butted upon while watching the TVs that are inexplicably mounted to the locker walls.  People.  It's a locker room, not your den.

Rule #3:  You are there to get sweaty and gross.  It's expected.  It's also expected that you at least mime a wipedown of the machine you sweated your sweaty self all over.

Rule #4:  It is NOT okay to bring in your DQ treats you got on the way to the gym.  Ditto with bags from McDonalds.  I do not care if you were just cleaning out your car and throwing your old wrappers away.  Some of us use the gym as one of the few sanctuaries from food that we cannot/should not eat. 

Rule #5:  The really lound grunting in the weight area, followed by the dropping of weights that are obviously too heavy for you to pick up in the first place.  While I applaud you for doing some serious work, I do not wish to hear your agonized grunts.  You're manly.  I get it.  Try being manly without the sound effects.

Bonus Rule:  Do what you gotta do to build your stamina, strength and flexibility.  You may be the one moving to the right when everyone else moves to the left, but you're there and you're doing it.  Hold your head high and don't be intimidated by the spandex-wearing gym bunnies (or the weight belt-wearing walking abs).  Not everyone can be coordinated, or have buns of steel, or personalized weight lifting gloves.  You do what you gotta do for you.  And if you happen to see me at the gym, know that in my head I'm not judging, but giving you a secret and well-deserved high five.  Really.

That is, unless you start to wash your feet in the sink.  Then all bets are off.

You know you're becoming a spinster when...

I just watched the 30 Rock from last week (yea, DVR-o-Vision!), where Liz has broken up with her boyfriend (played by Matt Damon...no wonder she's so depressed) and decided she doesn't have it in her anymore and is just going to give up.  She arrives at work in a sweatshirt/jammie-pants combo, with a chip-clip holding her hair back, a fanny pack, and a new pet cat she named "Emily Dickenson."  Sounds crazy, right?  But hitting a little too close to home.  I am wavering on the line into spinsterhood and I need someone to pull me back onto solid ground.  How do I know?

Top 10 Reasons to believe I'm falling into Spinsterhood:

10.  I only own sensible shoes.  Yup, not a heel in sight.
9.  I caught myself telling a funny story about the cat the other day and ending it with the phrase, "She thinks she's people."
8.  I have food wrappers on my bedside table.  Granted, they are from sugar-free Popsicles...holy crap, I just realized it's WAY weirder to eat Popsicles in bed than junk food.
7.  I have a designated friend (shout out to D. Willy) who, in case of my untimely death, is in charge of going over to my house and tidying, i.e. removing any parental-inappropriate items.  If you are confused by what that might be, then you are probably my mother and should not concern your cute little mom-head about it.  Seriously, Alma.  Quit reading.  Now.  You may resume reading at #4.
6.  I do not have a single pair of adorable or sexy undies.  Granted, I did have them, but they got to be too big.  Nothing worse than a pair of lacy black undies working it's way towards your knees.  Except maybe a pair of granny undies in unappealing tan with a bit of elastic hanging off the top working down to your knees.  While wearing a skirt. 
5.  While I'm on the underwear theme, I just bought a new bra.  It is a workout bra, and it is battleship grey.  'Nuff said.
4.  The only items in my shopping cart are 3 bags of Soy Chips and a jar of peanut butter.
3.  I can count on one hand the number of men I have had a non-work-related conversation with in the last week
2.  I find myself eyeing babies with the intensity that only a single, childless woman has.
And the number one reason I know I'm sliding into Spinsterhood?
1.  The overwhelming desire to shake my fist and yell, "you darn kids!"

I actually am somewhat OK with this.  It's not completely glum--I can watch whatever I want on TV, I can eat peanut butter on a spoon as my dinner, I get the whole bed to myself, and I can set the thermostat to whatever is comfortable for me.  So while some days I feel like I am the saddest, lonliest woman on the planet, on other days I feel like I own the world.

But please, if I EVER wear a fanny pack, it's time for an intervention.

Blah blah blah...

Well, it's a blah day.  In fact, it's been a blah week.  Guess what overweight people do when they feel blah?  Yeah.  And I've really been struggling.  My surgery has not ended up as restrictive as I'd hoped for.  I knew before surgery that I needed a really tight leash to rein myself in.  If I didn't, I wouldn't have needed the surgery.  Frankly, if I could throw on a choke collar right now I would.

Don't get me wrong, I am restricted, but it isn't enough.  I can eat around it (in that I don't dump, and I don't throw up), and I don't want to do that.  About 80-85% percent of the time I follow the rules and do what I'm supposed to, otherwise I wouldn't be where I am now, 155 pounds lighter.  But 15-20% I take the leeway, and it goes from being "wiggle room" (which my doctor says should be 5-10%) to a big problem.

So I need to ask myself some questions:
1.  What's bothering me?  Why am I turning to the food?
2.  Why am I sabotaging my own success?  Am I content with where I am now?  Am I afraid to get smaller?
3.  Is this a clinical depression, or am I just struggling like normal people do?  (Full disclosure: I stopped taking anti-depressants after surgery with my doctor's approval.  I do not play when it comes to this stuff.)
4.  Is it hormonal?  If so, should I change my birth control to see if it helps or should I just be prepared for this every 4 weeks?
5.  Is it that I haven't been working out as much?  I know that working out really does improve my mood, so if that's the issue I just need to refocus my time and energy.

If you have half a brain (and I know you do), you probably came to the same conclusion I did after reading this.  I need to journal EVERYTHING--food, mood, and exercise--so I can get to the bottom of what is going on.

Have I mentioned here before how much I hate that?  If not, let me explain.  I hate it with a purple passion.  I hate it like "Sarah Palin in 2012."  I hate it like being stuck in a cave with canned green beans as my only option for survival.  I hate it like I hate having to tell 300+ people that they no longer have a job...you probably get the picture.

Unfortunately, I think it's really my only option if I'm going to figure this out and be successful in the long run.  It's time to put on my big girl panties and get my journal on.  Please feel free to send me any hints, tips, or suggestions on how do make this less painful...