Slooooow

It's so weird; in some ways this weight loss seems to be moving at lightening speed, and at others it's slower than a frozen snail. These last couple weeks I've been back and forth between 293 and 299,finally hitting 291.6 this week. Losing 50 lbs in 4 months and getting under 300 seemed to take no time at all, but getting into the 280's is taking FOREVER!!!

What if I gain one week?

I had a mini-gain last week.  I gain .6lbs.  Now, I know this is minor, but it was the first time I didn't have a loss, and it wasn't even me just plateauing.  It was a GAIN.  But I wasn't too upset.  In fact, I don't think I was upset enough.

See, I know I should be terrified of a gain; terrified of gaining back any of what I've lost or of not losing any more weight.  I've heard from friends in my support group who have experienced this, and my heart goes out to them.  When they share this news, I wish I could take out my Louisville Slugger and beat the fuck out of those gained pounds until they melt away like ice chips.

But when it happened to me, I was...okay with it.  I mean, I wasn't celebrating or doing a feisty jig in my living room (although I do do a an awesome Irish jig when the occasion calls for it), but I wasn't angry or depressed about it either.  I was kind of ambivalent about it.  I knew why I had gained (three birthday celebrations in one week, no matter how careful you are, is a killer) and what I had to do to not gain again (stop celebrating people's birthdays!  Ha!).

I think what also helped was my outlook on losing this much weight.  I try and remember that although I want my weight to get to my goal as soon as possible, this band is something I'm going to have and going to be working with for the rest of my life. So if I have a couple bad weeks where I gain, it's OK, because even though my "fat mind" is freaking out and making me terrified, the reality is, I'm in my mid-30's and I've got at least another 40 years of this banded journey.  Obviously I work too hard to want to see a gain, but at the same time, I'm more aware of my eating and lifestyle patterns than before, and I have the added benefit of restriction from the band.  It simply isn't as easy to gain 50 pounds like it was for me in the first place.  So although a gain isn't a good thing, it isn't the be-all, end-all of my journey wither. I've still got decades to go, and just like life, this is a marathon, not a sprint.  There will be highs and lows.  Peaks and valleys.  Mountains and...canyons?  You get the point.  It's gonna be one tough ride.

Snorkeling

I'm stepping out on my first adventure next weekend!

I joined a group that's all about exploring the outdoors, and they are going snorkeling in Newport, RI next weekend.  I've never been snorkeling, but I love the water, and I've always thought it'd be cool to try it.  Plus, if I ever want to actually get my SCUBA certification and get into a steel cage with great white's swimming around me, I figure I should start with the basics first.  You know, like learning to swim with fins.

When I went on a cruise in 2005, I wanted to go snorkeling on one of the excursions.  However, I was at my heaviest weight then, and I wasn't comfortable with the idea of being the only whale-sized human in the shallows.  But now, having lost almost 50lbs, and, I'm sure, being 7 years older, I've got more confidence and more of an "I don't care what you think of me" attitude.  Plus, I can move easier and quicker and I have more energy now.

So, yes...snorkeling, here I come! :)

Before and After: 40 lbs

Before surgery, my Dr. made it a point to tell me to take a lot of before pictures, specifically in doorways or in home mirrors.  This way, he said, when you are feeling like you haven't made much progress, or you need a boost, you can take a picture in the same doorway or mirror and compare the two side-by-side.  By putting yourself in the same spot at the same angle, you can better see the results you've had.

Fab idea Dr. Kruger!  (Yes, my surgeon's name is Dr. Kruger.  No, his first name is not Freddy, thank goddess.  Although the hospital is on Elm street...lol)

Here's my first side-by-side photo montage.  (I don't know if this is considered a montage; I just love that word.  It's fun to say.  Go ahead, try it.  Montage.  Stretch the second syllable out.  Montaaaaaggggge.  See? )

The picture on the left (blue shirt)* is from July, 2011.  I weighed 350 lbs.
The picture on the right (pink shirt) is from July, 2012.  I weighed 310 lbs.
That, my friends, is what a 40lb weight loss looks like on  me.
*The blue shirt is a 26/28 and the pink shirt is a 22/24

I love seeing the difference in my face every morning when I look in the mirror.  I can see a difference in my body as well, but this daily reminder not only gives me the motivation to keep this going, it starts me off in a great mood for the day!

I Got Stuck

Yesterday was a tough one for me. Because of imminent rainstorms, my plans to spend the day at the river were cancelled, and then in the afternoon it cleared and got hot and humid, so I felt like ass for sitting inside all day. I was bored and restless all day, but too tired and letting my depression get to me to go out and actually do anything. I spent the day (and night) fighting head hunger and trying not to eat everything in the house. My only saving grace was that before my surgery I had cleaned out my fridge/freezer and cupboards of anything other than band-ok foods. Otherwise I would have stuffed myself with a pound of pasta (or tried to anyways). 

I had my first real stick yesterday, on peanut butter and saltines, which was good, because it slowed me down and got me out of my head a little. But it still sucked.  For anyone who isn't banded or who has never experienced getting tuck, let me explain it...

You know when you take too big of a bite, or don't chew your food enough, and try to swallow it anyway?  You get that lump in your throat, as it slides down slowly?  Sometimes you take a drink to help it move easier and quicker, and that always works.  Well, with the band it's similar.  Except worse.

With the band, you know instantly that you didn't chew your food enough, or you are eating too fast, or that you took way too big a bite.  Instead of that lump in your throat, you get a sharp pain and pressure, right under your breastplate, right between your boobs.  Some people get it a little lower, depending on where their stomach and band sits.  For me, mine is fight where put your hands when you are giving someone the Heimlich.

I instantly panic a little, not only because it hurts, but also because my first thought it "Shit, I'm choking!"  But I'm not choking, I can still breathe, and I have to remind myself that as I tell myself to calm down.  I immediately start slimming, which is when your mouth fills with thick saliva.  It's a natural response from the body - produce saliva so you can swallow it and get the food down.  Only, with the band, anything you swallow after the stick - saliva, water - will just sit on top of the food and make you feel worse.

Sometimes just waiting it out works.  Sometimes swallowing the saliva or little sips of water will help.  Sometimes taking papaya enzyme will help - it's chewable and it helps break down the food a lot quicker, so it can pass through your tiny tummy funnel.  But sometimes the only thing you can do is force the food back up and out.

Luckily, I have only experienced this twice.   Once was a minor stick, and I wasn't even sure that's what it was at the time.  I can look back it now and say that yes, I got stuck, but a little water slid the food right through (luckily, I hadn't gotten any fills and had no restriction yet).

The second was yesterday.  I have 4cc in a 14cc band, but only feel a little restriction when the heat and humidity is really band and my stomach swells.  I'm getting my second fill next week.  But yesterday I ate too fast, and I took too big a bite of peanut butter on a saltine, and between the restriction and the peanut butter, I had one fuck of a stick.  I managed to get it to go down with a couple swallows of water, but it hurt like a motherfucker and I was shaken for the rest of the day,

Guess I need to eat slower and watch my bites, chew more carefully.  It's not something I want to experience again, but I'm glad it happened when I had such a small fill amount and I was able to fix it by drinking some water.  I can't imagine having to sit with that pain and panic for an hour until the food dissolves enough to slide through on it's own.  

Ernesto: 1, Me: 0

How do you see yourself when you look in the mirror?

Today I had my monthly check-in with my therapist, and she asked me this question today. She asked if I was having trouble when I looked in the mirror: did I still see myself at my heaviest or could I objectively look at myself and see the weight loss. She wanted to make sure that I won't be looking at a "thin" version of myself but still seeing the old fat me.

While I 100% understand this, I explained to her that my problem has always been the opposite: I never realized how big I was until I'd catch my reflection in a store window, or not be able to fit into my Dad's sweatshirt, or try and squeeze through a small space and get stuck. It's funny; that hindered me before, because I never truly saw how big I was, so it never really pushed me into doing anything about my weight. It took a health problem for me to do something about it. But it's a benefit now.

However, for people who have the opposite problem, they have the hindrance now, having to overcome the mind-game of still seeing yourself as you were before, as opposed to how you are now.  Two sides of one coin.

Happy Bandaversary to Me!

Gonna keep this short since I'm writing this on my Kindle... Today is my 2 month Bandaversary! Yup, 2 months ago today, May 7th, I was Banded. I have lost 37.4 pounds! :) Yay me! Can't wait to see what I'll lose once I finally feel some restriction! lol :)

Lessons I've Learned (Thanks Karen!)

Thanks to my wonderful (and ever patient) therapist Karen, who no matter how many times I've tried, I cannot for the fuck of me bullshit, this month is my 4 year anniversary in therapy.  Whoo-hoo!

Here are some lessons I've learned:


1. Therapy won't work unless you find the right therapist for you.
     Karen is the right therapist for me because from day 1, she wouldn't buy my bullshit and called me on it every single time.  Still does.  She MAKES me face everything head on, and that's the only way I'll ever be able to deal with a problem and dissolve it.

2. There will always be bullies.
     Yes, there are poisonous people around me.  Yes, even in my mid-thirties I meet people who try to belittle me or push me around.  Sadly, bullies don't live in the dark hallways of schools, where you can escape them simply by growing up and moving on.  You'll encounter them for the rest of your life, so you better learn how to handle them now.  My advice?  Stand up to the bullies in your life and tell them to back the fuck off.  Most bullies are so shocked at being bullied back, they back down immediately.

3. Only you can let someone make you feel bad. 
     Yeah, bullies suck.  Sometimes people in general suck.  But have you ever met one of those people who no matter what is going on, always has a smile and a friendly wave for you?  I mean, always.  Their car could have just exploded and their response would be "Oh well, I was getting sick of having a red car anyways.  I always wanted a blue one."  Yeah, one of those...happy people.
     I know the temptation to smack them upside the head is tempting, shit my best friend of over 20 years wake up like that every fricken day, but before you do, take a lesson from them.  It's not that these people have perfect lives or have never encountered a bad day.  It's just that they choose not to let it get to them.  It's all in your attitude.  If someone wants to make you feel bad, don't let them.  If someone wants to make you angry, don't let them.  Put them out of your head and.  If they aren't important to you, why do you care what they think?  People like that aren't of consequence anyway.  They only hurt you to feel better about themselves.  The only emotion you should every give them is pity.

4. Suck it up, already!
    Yup, life fucking sucks sometimes.  Sucks big blue smurf balls.  And it seems like your life is shit while everyone else's is going swimmingly.  You're single, but everyone else has someone to love them.  You lost your job while your best friend is flying to Hawaii for a fully paid week-long "conference".  You have this reoccurring pain in your head/back/arm, and the doctors can't find a way to get rid of it.  Murphy isn't just imposing laws, he's living rent-free on your couch.
     But here's the thing, everybody's life fucking sucks sometimes, not just yours.  And yes, while I'm all for hiding away for a weekend, getting drunk on peach Arbour Mist and watching all six seasons of Dawson's Creek, at some point, you're going to run out of the Mist and realize Pacey and Jo were meant to be from the very beginning.  At some point, you need to stop the pity party, realize everyone has shit to battle, and get up. Nothing's going to change unless you do something to change it, so quit suck it up already and get to changing.

5. A little is better than nothing.
    Quick question: what's better, working at McDonald's for $8 an hour or being unemployed, behind in your bills, broke, and on the edge of eviction?
     Answer: McDonald's motherfucker!
     Seriously people, I know the idea of flipping burgers and slinging fries is horrendous for a professional like to (not to mention those polyester uniforms, yuck) but sometimes a little is better than a lot.  Like when you are unemployed with no opportunities in the foreseeable future except the afternoon shift at Mickey D's.
     Nothing has to be permanent.  If you have to take a crappy minimum wage job til something better comes along, take it; at least it's something!  It doesn't have to be permanent, it's just a stepping stone. If you have to move back in with your parents for a couple months, it's ok, it's just a stepping stone.
     If you can't do the big thing, then do little things until you can do the big thing.  Keep doing something.  A little is better than nothing.  Step on the stones, people.

 6. Stop playing the Blame Game.
     C'mon, you know the Blame Game.  We've all played it.  It's __________'s fault we didn't get that job.  If only __________ had given you the right directions you wouldn't have been late to that meeting.  It's not your fault the red line was derailed, those damn subway lines are always stalled.
     Doesn't matter what it is or who we blame, it's just easier and, truthfully, much easier on our conscious, to blame somebody else for our problems.  But if you ever want real change in your life, you need to stop looking for places to stash the blame, and start looking at what you can do to solve the problems.  The fact is, most of the time, nothing is ever all one person's fault.  It's their fault as well as your fault as well as this is just the way things went and tough shit, this is the life you were handed.  
     But the solution is all yours.  You just have to find it.  Even if that takes doing absolutely everything you don't want to do.
     When I did this, I had to really looking at myself and all my flaws. And not flaws like I'm overweight, but flaws like I'm lazy, I don't follow through on anything, and I gave up when things get hard. Once I saw all those flaws, I was able to start working on changing them. And then, without even knowing it, things in my life got better. Sure, I was lazy as fuck, but there were some days when I had a little more energy than normal, so instead of sitting on the couch all day letting the day and the weeks pass me by, even though I didn't want to, I would go for a walk around the block.  I'd see neighbors and say hi to people, and enjoy the feeling I got from being even just a little active and social.  Soon, I was looking forward to sunny days so I could go for my walk, say hi to the neighbors I never knew, and look at all the Spring gardens.  Over time, I had more and more energy, which made my life better.
     Yeah, in the beginning it was easier to just blame my lonely, boring life on my weight, but when I realized it was my lazy flaw keeping me inside the house all the time, I set out to squash it.  And things are so much better now.



The point of all this is that it only takes one small change to affect everything in your life. So if you want or need change, you need to suck it up, and DO something. Stop complaining and just take the first step already. It doesn't matter how small it is, because once you take that first step, you're just going to keep practicing it until you realize you've outgrown that step and it's time to move onto step two. Then you'll outgrow step two and it'll be time for step three, and so on. But if you never take that first step, nothing will ever change, and your life will be stagnant. And as Karen once told me, that's not living life. That's merely existing.

My Past Struggles

I thought I'd give you a little background on my life and share some of my dirty secrets with you.  Well, not the GOOD dirty secrets; those are for another blog, lol.  But these are the secrets that accompanied me on my journey growing up and growing out.

I've always been overweight, even as a little kid, but as a little kid I loved playing outside and being active as much as I loved curling up with a stack of books.  When I was in pre-school I was in gymnastics.  In elementary school I'd ride my bike for hours, and when I was a teenager, for miles.  At 8 I was the only girl on an all-boys soccer team in an all-boys soccer league - this was the 80's, not many girls did stuff like that then.  When I was 12 I started karate and continued for three years, until I got my brown belt.  The same year I also moved up from my plastic kids bow to a real compound bow and started making my own arrows with my dad and competing in archery tournaments (my favorites were the ones where you had to hike through the woods looking for the 3-D targets).  For three years in high school I was in the matching band, which meant after school and summer practices as we perfected walking straight lines in five-eights, mastered songs like Mustang Sally, Glad All Over, Touch Me, and the theme from Shaft, and choreographed ourselves into the EP logo of my school so we could play and dance to YMCA for the football half-times shows.  My Junior year I was on the tennis team.  And if it was about 60 degrees, you could always find me in a pool.


Despite all this, I was fat in junior high, and fatter in high school.  I weighed about 180 lbs when I was 12, and when I graduated high school at 18 years old, I was wearing a size 18 (and barely fitting in them) and probably weighed about 250 lbs.


How did I gain that weight if I was active?  Easy peasy, twice as cheesey:  the older I got, the less active I got, until I was struggling to keep up with my line in marching band and faking playing my instrument as I wheezed to try and catch my breath and wondered what would happen if I fell down and died right there on the 50 yard line.  Knowing my band instructor, he would have given three sharp blasts on his whistle, the signal to ignore the mistake and keep plying as if nothing has ever happened.


Oh yeah, and I ate a lot of really bad for me foods. Mmmmm...cheese....


Along with the lazy and foodie sides to my personality, I also had a strong crazy side to deal with.  My usual routine for that involved eating, crying, eating more, ranting and raving, screaming and in general having a temper tantrum like a three year old, eating again, crying, eating, slipping into lethargy and depression, and eating.  Then I'd emerge from my food and depression coma, be good for a time being, sometimes three days, sometimes three weeks, and repeat the process all over again.  Although this really grew to a head when I was in high school, it started when I hit puberty, and the first sign of my mental illness (or, as I like to call it, my trips to Funky Town), was when I had a breakdown and started having panic attacks when I was 7.

Sadly, I didn't get the help I needed for this until after my second breakdown, when I was 21 and a senior in college.  Even worse, that was just me dipping my toe in the water.  It took years of medication changes, self reflection, bouts of severe depression, and therapy to get where I am now.

Where am I now, you ask?

I'm good.  I'm about 75% less crazy then I used to be (according to my therapist and my Mom, lol), and the remaining crazy is the good kind; the kind that makes me fun and eccentric, funny and unique.  The kind that makes me, me.

And that's why I decided now was the time to tackle the other big issue in my life: my lack of movement.  My weight.  My laziness.  The fat ass-print permanently ingrained in my leather sofa.  


I've rescued myself from Funky Town.  Now I need to rescue myself from Cupcake-Landia!

Getting My Fat Off the Couch

I've been fat most of my life.  Not "Oh no, I'm a size 12 fat" but "Oh Fuck, I'm a size 28" fat.  Yes, I tried every diet out there.  Yes, I tried exercising and calories counting; Weight Watchers and Jenny Craig; I joined a gym, quit, then joined again; I did Atkins, South Beach, and the 6 Week Body Makeover.  After every single one of them, I was still fat.

For a number of reasons which I will get into later, I had WLS (Weight Loss Surgery) on May 7, 2012.  I got a gastric adjustable band, also called a lapband, also known as the Realize Band.  For simplicity, I got banded.

This choice was a long time in the making, and it was not something I took lightly.  I had studied and researched all areas of WLS for several years (about 7) before coming to my decision.  I read books and magazine articles, read reports online and watched actual surgeries on Youtube, and spoke with people who had gone through with both the banding and the gastric bypass.  I talked with three different doctors about it.  I signed up for an information seminar through my local hospital's Bariatric Surgery Program and chickened out twice over the years before I finally went to it and started the process.  I definitely put time and thought and energy into making sure this was the right choice for me.

It's not the right choice for everyone, but it was for me.

I tell you this because a large majority of the blog will be about my life with Ernesto (the name I gave my band).  I have a lot of weight to lose, and it's going to take a very long time, and the only way I'm going to do it will by Getting Up Off the Couch...

Getting Up Off the Couch

For a multitude of reasons, I have spent the last several years sitting on my couch and watching TV while my life has been on hold.  Now that many of those holds have finally released me, it's time to make some very big changes. 

In December of 2007, I was diagnosed with MS (Multiple Sclerosis), and after a 3 year battle, I was declared permanently disabled and am now on SSDI.  The restrictions put on me through the process of applying for and then fighting for my SSDI left me very unfulfilled and left my life very stagnant.  I felt I was sitting still, blocked from the path forward, yet clinging for dear life to the present for fear of falling backwards.  Through a lot of therapy (4 years this month, whoo-hoo!) I have let go of (most) of my anger, and am in the process of learning that I am good enough just the way I am, and that I am kick-ass awesome.

But after being still for so long, I have realized that I don't really know myself anymore.  I'm not sure who I am, who I want to be, or what I want from life.

I know I want to do some kind of part time work, but what?  I know I want to do some kind of volunteer work, but where?  I know I want an exciting life again, one that I look forward to each day when I wake up, full of happiness, peace, amazement, fun, and love, but how?  Oh yeah, and in between all that, I could really stand to lose about 180 lbs.

My life is like a giant word jumble right now, all crazy and mixed up and hard to understand.  But just like I know there are real words hidden in those random letters waiting for me to find them, I know there is a real life hidden in all this chaos waiting for me to live it.  I just have to find it.

But in order to find that life, I first have to Get Up Off The Couch...