Ups and Downs

Hi everyone!!  Firstly let me say thank you to everyone for your patience over the past few weeks.  I know that I have been distant and I haven't written, and that several people have requested that I do, and I apologize if I have hurt anybodys feelings or made anybody feel left out or ignored.  June has been an extremely difficult month for me - both physically and emotionally - and in between trying to heal from everything and trying to process my emotions I have somewhat retreated into my shell to allow myself time to adjust and regain focus.  By now, I'm sure, you are all asking what exactly has been going on, so lets start with the physical part.  As most of you know, I finally went back to work in the beginning of May and I was able to return to the gym and begin working out and pushing myself again.  To be honest, it felt amazing!  There is nothing quite like popping my ear buds in, drowning myself in my music, and feeling my muscles burn as I push away the day - it's the most cathartic feeling in the world, and rather addictive as well.  While I'm at the gym, going as hard as I can for as long as I can, I feel like I am doing  something, like I am actually accomplishing something rather than just waiting for everything to happen.  I feel good about myself, about my life, about the changes that are going on with my body - and I know that I will reach my goal.  So, because of that, I had been making an effort to go every day and to push harder and further each time I went - then June 1 happened.  Joe and I had gone to the grocery store for your basic stuff for Saturday dinner - yes, Saturday dinner.  Saturday is "mommy day" because she doesn't have dialysis that day or on Sunday so she can stay later.  We have dinner, hang out, play games, talk, whatever - it's just nice bonding time for all of us and I look forward to it all week :)  Anyway (back on track sorry) Joe and I were at the store and I was talking on the phone and finishing getting the last couple of things we need and - wham - my feet were flying from under me and I was grasping at air trying to catch myself.  Somebody had spilled yogurt on the floor and hadn't bothered to tell anybody or to clean it up, and I - and my flip flops - was the one to find it.  The way I slipped I bent my knee backwards (I call it barbie dolling my leg because I used to bend my barbies legs that way when I was a kid) slammed my foot into the shopping cart and popped out my hip - and the way I tensed so I could catch myself threw out my back.  It was completely embarrassing and extremely painful.  I ended up going to the emergency room where they did xrays and a cat scan - Doc was worried I had broken my shin bone which is why she ordered the CAT scan.  Fortunately, no bones were broken....not so fortunately, I royally damaged my meniscus and acl and screwed up my hip.  I left the emergency room in a full knee immobilizer and on crutches - neither of which is exactly conducive to working out.  I am working with a specialist so that we can get my knee to heal completely; which, for now, means that we are doing physical therapy to try and strengthen it up because we can't do another surgery so soon after my last two.  Good part is that I am finally off the crutches - I use a cane if it is really hurting and I have a different knee brace that allows some movement that I wear under my jeans - bad part is it will be a bit before I am able to go 100% at the gym.  (I also ended up making a second ER trip as a result of that slip because my hip was so out of place and in so much pain I couldn't move it without getting sick)  Emergency room trip number three happened Tuesday June 11.  I was working overtime and sitting at my desk taking calls and I started to feel funny.  The room was starting to spin, I could hear my pulse in my ears, things were getting fuzzy, and breathing was becoming difficult.  I wasn't overly worried about it at first but it kept getting worse.  I finally wrote to my MR and told her that I was having a hard time catching my breath.  She went and got our Area Manager and my best friend came from the other side of the building.  By the time they got to my desk I was starting to turn blue and I felt like something was sitting on my chest.  I was still fighting going to the hospital but my boss was adamant about calling 911.  We pulled into the ER and I had no breath sounds and a pulse ox that was considered critical.  Due to my history, the doctor initially thought it was a PE, and - no matter what was wrong - she was worried because I was totally unable to draw a breath.  We did another CAT scan and several blood tests and I was lucky because it wasn't a PE....what it was was a severe asthma attack.  It was so severe that my bronchial tubes had totally closed which is why you couldn't even hear a wheeze - my lungs weren't getting any air so they were totally silent.  Doc even said the "admit" word but after some steroids and nebulizers we were able to get me opened up enough and breathing well enough that I was allowed to go home with more steroids and inhalers - under strict orders to see my doctor and an asthma specialist immediately.  I am following those orders, by the way, and we are getting my breathing under control - however, this is ANOTHER set back when it comes to working out.   With all of that, I am physically recovering, it is just taking time.....I do think that the emotional toll of this month will take longer to heal....

I'm am frustrated, I am frustrated with myself and with this process and with my progress.  I am frustrated with the past month and everything that has happened.  The day after the asthma attack I had several doctors appointments, including my stomach doctor and my weigh in.  I always look forward to going to see my bariatric surgeon - he's awesome and kind and gives me the right encouragement - and this visit was no different....then I got there and got on the scale.  Now, I understand that I have lost over 70 pounds since I had my surgery March 26.  I understand that that is over 20 pounds a month which is amazing.  I understand that I was extremely sick after my surgery which caused me to lose too much weight too quickly.  I understand that my goal was to have lost 50 pounds by this point and I have far exceeded that.  The logical part of me gets all of this totally, but with everything that has happened this month that is not the side of my brain that is winning lately.....So, I get there and I get on the scale, and....nothing.  At all.  In three weeks I hadn't lost a single pound.  The nurse looked at me and I just started crying, just blubbering like a fool.  The poor nurse looks at me like I have three heads and all of them are leaking.  She gets me to the room and I'm pretty sure that she ran to get my doc and told him that I had lost my mind because he was in the room in minutes.  I couldn't explain to him why I was so upset, I couldn't put it into words.  I'm not even sure if I knew fully why I was so upset - all I knew was I was devastated and I couldn't make myself stop crying.  Doc took one look at me, hugged me, and told me I was being silly and should be proud of myself.  He reminded me that I had just been weighed with a knee brace on which adds weight number one.  He then reminded me that I had been on steroids and muscle relaxers and had been pumped full of steroids the night before which causes you to retain water.  He finally pointed out that I was well ahead of schedule on my weight loss, that I am doing amazingly, and that he is more than thrilled with my progress.  I heard him, I head what he was saying, I understood what he was saying, but it didn't help.  I slapped on a smile and my happy face (it's one of my specialties) and let him think I was perfect while the little girl in my head was curled up in a ball silently rocking back and forth and crying.  Over the next week I couldn't seem to get out of my funk, AND I couldn't seem to shake the worst case of munchies I had had since the surgery - and that only made everything worse.  I know I am an emotional eater, I always have been.  No matter what was going on in my life, no matter how badly I was hurting, food was the one constant that never abandoned me - and it is still where I habitually turn when I am upset.  I have been battling that habit since the surgery, and I have been winning - instead of turning to food I exercise, play a game, read a book, or write here - and now I felt like I had lost all control.  I still wasn't stuffing my face with everything I could find (the worse for me the better), but the pull to munch on everything, to constantly be chewing even when I wasn't hungry was so strong, I felt myself spiraling back to the person I was and I was powerless to stop it.  I had an appointment with my regular doc one week after my bariatric doc to begin the follow up from my asthma attack, and the closer it got the more I panicked.  My regular doc is amazing, I trust him with my life, with the most precious people in my life, and I am so lucky I have him.  More than him is his nurse.  His nurse is one of my heroes - without exaggeration.  She has been my champion over and over since I started going there.  She takes pictures of me and saves them so she can show me my progress when I am struggling.  She has fought with insurance companies, hospitals, my employer, even doctors on my behalf to make sure that I am getting taken care of.  When I started the process for my surgery, she was the one that researched surgeons for me, she found my dietitians, she ordered all of the tests I would need, she helped me keep my food journals correctly for the insurance, she found every hoop there would be even before it was there and she made sure we could jump through it.  She is the woman that I call when I am struggling or don't feel well or even when I have a stupid question, and she is ALWAYS there - I do not have enough words to describe how much I love this woman or how much she means to me - as does her opinion.  As I'm driving to my appointment I could feel the panic attack starting.  I was going to have to walk in there, with these people that fought so hard for me, get on a scale, and show them that I was still fat - not only was I still fat, but I hadn't lost any weight in a month.  I was terrified, literally gripped with fear, at the thought of disappointing them.  By the time I walked in the door I had worked myself into a frenzy - all over the scenarios that I was playing up in my head.  Deb called me back and, before the scale, she hugged me and told me how amazing I am looking - I'm telling you, that woman is an angel and can read me like a book.  She had me get on the scale and - guess what - I had lost 4 pounds since seeing the surgeon the week before!!  I could feel some of the panic lifting, especially as she high fived me and told me how proud she was.  We got in the room and she did the nurse thing - stats, temp, etc - then she pulled up pictures of me from just before the surgery.  She made me look at them and made me admit how much better I look now.  I have a defined neck again and you can see my collar bones.  My breasts no longer look like a shelf attached to my chest, rather I am developing a shape.  When I smile you can still see my eyes, whereas before my cheeks were so chubby they would block my eyes.  She made me look at and acknowledge the differences.  Then, before getting doc, she told me to stop beating myself up.  She reminded me that exercising has been very difficult because of my injuries and asthma but I have still been trying, and that everybody hits bumps when they are losing weight - no matter what process they are taking - I am no different.  She also pointed out that the thinner I get the slower I will lose weight, BECAUSE I HAVE LESS TO LOSE (her emphasis lol).  She said all of the things I needed to hear and she did make me feel better, but I couldn't stop the nagging feeling over the munchies - then doc came in.  He and I had our typical small talk. he checked my lungs, set me up with a specialist, and gave me another script, then he brought up the steroid I had been taking because of the asthma.  He asked me if I had been hungry lately, even though I shouldn't be.  I told him yes and that it was really bothering me because I couldn't figure out what was going on.  That was when he informed me that any time I get any prescriptions I need to call either him or my surgeon because my body is different now, so the side effects that are no big deal to most people are detrimental for me...one of the biggest issues with the steroid I was taking (in large quantities I may add) is increased hunger and water retention.  The constant munchies I had been experiencing weren't my fault, they were a result of the meds, and the fact that I was fighting them was awesome.  Even more impressive to him was the fact that I was noticing there was an issue with food and with the munchies.  Before the surgery, before I became so committed, I would have just eaten - hungry or not, healthy or not, it wouldn't have mattered - I would have stuffed my face without even thinking.  Now, however, I was realizing that I was craving food even though I wasn't hungry, AND when I chose to eat something I was putting good things into my body.  I was drinking water to make sure I was hungry, not thirsty.  I was eating veggies and granola, not chocolate.  I was making all of the correct decisions, even with my system so off because of the meds.  I needed to hear all of that because I had been brutalizing myself for a week, trying to figure out what was wrong with me and why I was such a failure.  Talking to doc and his nurse helped me, and it answered questions I had been struggling with all week.  That said, I am still having a difficult emotional time after my last weigh in.  Yes, the logical part of me accepts everything I have been told and knows it is accurate.  I get that.  I just can't shake this feeling that I am letting everybody down.  So many people, so many of you, have been pulling for me.  Over the past year I have discovered I have the most amazing support system on the planet.  I have this group of people that love me, and support me, and cheer for me, and are excited for me and my victories, and I don't want to disappoint them.  I step on the scale and I can see that the number is so much smaller than it was just a few short months ago, but I look in the mirror and  all I see is the same out of control fat chick staring back at me.  My clothes are literally falling off, to the point that I have to hold my pants up (I even accidentally put on Mykayla's panties the other day) but when I see myself I don't see any changes at all, and I can't figure out how anybody else does.  Again, that logic side of me knows that it is not the reflection in the mirror that I am struggling with - it is my perception of that reflection - and, again, my logic side isn't winning right now.  I think I am just so afraid that I will no lose enough fast enough, that I will write a blog without enough of a difference, that I won't lose inches quickly enough, that everybody will just give up on me.  I worry that I will let everyone down and they will feel like they invested their time and effort into the wrong person.  That they tried so hard to support me and I just turned around and went back to my same old ways again.  I want so badly to see what everybody else tells me they see.  I want to look in the mirror and see the woman that does look thinner and happier and healthier.  I want to put my clothes on and feel good about how they fit and how they look.  I want to see a camera pointed in my direction and not feel my stomach drop at the thought of a picture being taken looking like this.  I want to be able to take my girls to school or the pool or out with friends and not worry that I am an embarrassment to them, or that their friends are going to tease them for their fat mommy.  I want all of these things so badly and there are times I can see them there, they are almost in my grasp, I just can't quite reach them yet.  I really am trying.  I am trying to heal the broken parts of me that change the reflection in the mirror.  I am working on getting back to the gym and pushing because I feel better about myself and about life when I have worked out.  I am reshaping my relationship with food and what I do when I am upset or when I have the munchies.  I am working on all of this and some days I feel like I have made huge strides and that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and other times I feel like I am taking more steps backwards than forwards.  What I must try to understand and accept is that it took me almost 34 years to get this way - both physically and mentally.  Parts got broken little by little, my pieces became sharper as they were worn and rebroken over time, my body got bigger slowly as it tried to hide my pieces from the world, all of these things happened over years not days, or weeks, or even months, and they are not going to change and heal instantly.  This journey will take time, it will not happen overnight, I will probably be struggling with some of this for the rest of my life, and that is ok as long as I am willing to keep fighting.  Slumps like this will happen, I will take steps back, but it is the ones that I take forward that will define who I am on this journey.  So, I ask all of you for continued prayers and patience as I continue to navigate this bumpy path I have chosen.  I have made it this far because of your strength and love and I am so blessed that each of you is supporting me.  I promise to try and never disappoint you and to always push towards the finish line...
Until next time, thank you for reading, good night, stay safe, and I love you!!!

weigh ins and bra shopping

Hi everyone!  First and foremost, let me say thank you for all of your thoughts, prayers, juju, and patience.  This has been quite an eventful several weeks and, at times, I have felt like my world has been spinning out of control.  The fact that you are reading this, especially after such a long time since my last post, is a true testament to how blessed I am and how many people I have supporting and loving me.  There are truly no words to describe how grateful I am, and simply saying thank you just doesn't seem adequate.  Please know that you have all stamped my heart and I thank god every day for each one of you!!!


Now....on to updates....

First and foremost, as most of you know, I had my official weigh in two weeks ago.  It was supposed to be almost a month ago, but I that was the week that I was in the hospital so it didn't happen.  If you go back to my first blog, you will remember that I revealed my weight there - and that was momentous for me.  I vowed that day I would stop hiding my weight, stop running from it, and put it out there for everybody to see - and it's time to do that again.  The day of my weigh in I was more than anxious, to say the least.  Joe and I had been taking bets about how much I had lost and what I weighed now and I wanted to know which one of us was right.  Along with the flutter of excitement you feel, there is also a knot in your stomach that is palpable.  What if you step on that scale and you haven't lost enough?  What if your doctor gets mad because you aren't making the right progress?  What if you let down everybody that is behind you and supporting you?  I actually had nightmares that I got on the scale and my doctor shook his head, told me I was hopeless, and sent me away.  To say it can be traumatic is an understatement - you are filled with so much excitement and apprehension that you feel like you are coming apart at the seams.

We got to the doctors office - it was in a different building this time so I got a little lost - and waited to be called back.  When the nurse finally called us back I could feel my stomach flutter; and, as she was leading us, I was emptying my pockets of everything and anything I could find (logic tells me that receipt from the gas station isn't going to make a difference, but why chance it?)  We get to the scale and I slowly step on, scared to look at what numbers will appear.  I kept my eyes straight ahead for a few seconds - some of you may remember that I wouldn't even look at the scale the last time I was at the doctor - before finally glancing down to take in my fate.  The numbers jumped off the scale at me and the words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them "you're shitting me, right??!!??"  I looked again, this time taking it in, one number at a time, forcing myself to believe what I was seeing.  On March 26, 2013, moments before surgery, I weighed 323 lbs, not my heaviest but nothing I was proud of either.  Now, May 15, 2012, less than two months after I had my gastric sleeve, I was staring at a number I never expected...265!!!!  Can you believe that??  Two hundred and sixty five pounds!!  I had lost 58 lbs in less than 8 weeks.  All of my clothes were huge on me, I knew - my pants didn't stay up (neither did my panties), my bras were too loose, my shirts looked like I could fit an extra person with me - but I wasn't expecting 265.  I felt like I had succeeded, like I had accomplished something for the first time in years.  Since them I have lost 11 more pounds and I continue to lose.  It was like that number, that progress, gave me a new purpose.  It showed me that I am doing things right, that I am finally getting somewhere, that I am well on my way to being healthier and happier, and I needed it more than words can describe.

                                                                     ME AT 265 :)!!!

Some parts about losing so much weight are amazing - other parts are both frustrating, and embarrassing. Let's start with the bra shopping, shall we??  They warn you that as you drop drastic amounts of weight your breasts will get smaller, both cup size and around your chest, and I was good with that - kind of happy about it actually.  I have always been large in that area and they can get in the way.  The girls make my back hurt, they don't sit right, gravity doesn't even matter - after three children and sheer size alone they will never be back where they belong - bras are impossible to find and when I do they are ridiculously expensive, it drives me nuts!  I held on to my larger bras for as long as I could until I just couldn't take it anymore, they had gotten to the point that I may as well not wear one, so we were off to go bra shopping.  How many of you have even been measured for a bra?  I have a couple of times, but not for years, and I had forgotten just how - shall we say personal - it is.  I am standing, topless, in the fitting room with this random stranger.  She wraps her arms around me to loop the measuring tape around all of me then fits it snugly underneath both breasts.  Once she decided what size I needed she rushed off and got me several options.  Thinking I would finally have some privacy I eagerly reached for them to try on - teach me to think.  She proceeds to come back into the dressing room with me while I put the first bra on.  At this point she begins lifting, stuffing, shifting, poking, pulling, and prodding the girls into the bra to make sure they are sitting correctly and it fits correctly.  Let me just say, for the record, if the girls are going to get that much attention then you should at least buy me dinner first.  It was insane!!  All of this so I can spend too much money on a piece of fabric that I would get arrested for wearing in public - makes total sense to me.  We finally settled on two bras (I am losing weight too quickly to buy more than that) and made our hasty escape.  I decided to avoid jeans for now - my jeans average eighty dollars because I'm so tall, so I am going to make do with what I have until I have no choice - so thankfully I didn't have to try anything else on.  Thankfully, with all of that, I did find two bras that fit perfectly and that make me feel amazing and sexy, so I guess it was all worth it.

I have bored all of you enough for one evening.  I will write again tomorrow, and I think we are going to talk about some of the things that you can't prepare for before having this surgery - the good and the bad.  As always, if you have any questions or anything you would like me to talk about, please let me know and we will discuss it here.  Until tomorrow, have a great night, stay safe, and thank you for reading!!!  <3  <3

PS - the bras are already too big
xoxo
     

Tristan Patrick - Good Night and God BlessTriss

Hi everyone.  I know I am behind on my blog and I know I promised an update, but today is not the day for updates.  I will have my weigh in tomorrow and I will post again then - we will talk about weight checks, my latest surgery, bra shopping, going to the gym again, and so much more; but that is for tomorrow.  Today, for me is a day of remembrance.  A day to embrace my children and my life and thank god that I have them to hold.  Today, I remember Tristan Patrick and the amazing woman she was....it is the only way I know to honor a life that was taken far too soon.


We all have those friends, those amazing, perfect friends that complete our lives.  The ones that you can go weeks, even months without talking to and then pick up the phone and it's like you were together yesterday. They are closer than friends, even best friends, they are a part of your family, a part of your heart and soul and life - that is my LouLou.  Lou and I became friends almost seven years ago, in a training class for our new job - and we took an instant dislike to one another.  She was "old" and opinionated and set in her ways, and I was a young punk, a totally obnoxious pain in the ass - we were oil and water, and that was how we treated each other.  We fought constantly until it all came to a head one night before a major inspection.  We had been grating on one another all night, tension was high, we were getting busy, and all hell finally broke loose.  We screamed, things were thrown, I ultimately walked out (thank god Susan was looking out for me and I didn't lose my job).  When I came back something had changed between Lou and I, it was like we had found some middle ground, some understanding, and it was the beginning of a life changing friendship.  From that day on we were always together.  We smoked together, we hung out, we talked all of the time, we took on projects together - and as we grew together we began to get to know, and love, each others kids.  That was how I met Tristan.

Tristan was still a kiddo when Lou and I became close.  She was becoming a young adult, barely a teenager, and starting to stretch her wings - and push her limits.  Lou and I closed the restaurant together almost every night and the phone would always ring exactly at closing - and I always knew it was either Trissy or Michael.  I would joke that it was Louana's answering service after 8:30 pm :).  I would answer the phone and there was Trissy, looking for her mom.  She would always take a minute to ask how I was, how my day was, and how our shift was going, and we would chat before I got Lou for her.  When she came into the restaurant she would seek me out and run up and just hug me, no matter how bad my day was she always made me smile.  I can remember times when she and Lou were fighting and she would show up and try and get me to side with her, to get her mom to stop being so strict, to give her more freedom.  She was always so full of fire and spirit, you couldn't help but love her.  When her older sister got sick, it was Trissy that called me so I could meet the family at the hospital.  The first time I saw Tommie, Trissy came in with me and I watched her transform in front of my eyes into both an adult and an angel.  She stroked Tommies hair and told her how much she loved her and needed her.  She talked about all of the things they would do and see and experience, Tommie just had to get better first.  She told Tommie that she had to get better, that she and Lou and Ash and Michael needed her, that it wasn't her time yet and their family wouldn't be complete if she wasn't in it.  You could feel Trissy's spirit fill the room and Tommie's vital signs responded to it - it was like Trissy was giving her some of her will so she could get better.  That was just who Trissy was.  She was a shining star that lit you up from the inside out.  I am not saying Trissy was perfect, of course she wasn't.  Part of her spirit and her fire gave her a fierce streak, and she helped use it to try and hide her pain.  She could push her limits and strike out, she didn't always make the best decisions, she would take her anger out on those she loved the most - but who among us hasn't done that?  Ultimately, Trissy was a beautiful, amazing tribute to her mom and to their relationship.  She was strong, kind, smart, loving, beautiful, giving (I think everybody that knew her got a gift from her), gentle, generous, fierce, there are truly not enough words to describe just what an amazing young woman she was.  And now she is gone and the void that she has left is palpable.

As I sit here and read the tributes to her on Facebook I am struck by the number of lives she touched, the sheer amount of people that are better because she was in their life.  The truth of it is, no matter how short your journey with Trissy was, the imprint she left on your soul will never fade.  So, tonight, hug your children, your mom, your best friend, whomever, one extra time - make sure they know just how much you love them. Hold on to each moment of your life, experience it, love it, enjoy it, because the next isn't promised to you.  Take a part of Tristan with you from this moment on, and pass her on to those you meet.  Smile at a stranger, hold the door open for someone, sing happy birthday to somebody you love (or don't even know), let your light shine as brightly as Trissy's did, so brightly that it touches everyone you come in contact with and brings them to a better place.  That is how we can honor this life that was taken too soon, that is how we will keep her alive.  As I said, tomorrow will be the time for updates, today is my day to remember my Tristan and to thank god that I got to share part of her life - I know I am better for it.  Thank you for remembering her with me.  Until next time, good night, stay safe, and thank you for listening.

Square One

A manifesto, by author Terry Tempest Williams in a book on 'Creative Non-Fiction'

I write to make peace with the things I cannot control.
I write to create fabric in a world that often appears black and white.
I write to discover. I write to uncover. I write to meet my ghosts. I write to begin a dialogue.
I write to imagine things differently and in imagining things
differently perhaps the world will change.
I write to honor beauty. I write to correspond with my friends.
I write as a daily act of improvisation. I write because it creates my composure.
I write against power and for democracy.
I write myself out of my nightmares and into my dreams.
I write in a solitude born out of community.
I write to the questions that shatter my sleep. I write to the answers that make me complacent.
I write to remember. I write to forget. I write to the music that opens my heart. I write to quell the pain.
I write with the patience of melancholy in winter. I write because it allows me to confront that which I do not know.
I write as an act of faith. I write as an act of slowness.
I write to record what I love in the face of loss. I write because it makes me less fearful of death. I write as an exercise in pure joy.
I write as one who walks on the surface of a frozen river beginning to melt.
I write out of my anger and into my passion.
I write from the stillness of night anticipating -- always anticipating.
I write to listen. I write out of silence. I write to soothe the voices shouting inside me, outside me, all around me.
I write because I believe in words.
I write because it is a dance with paradox.
I write because you can play on the page like a child left alone in
sand.
I write because it is the way I take long walks.
I write because I believe it can create a path in darkness.
I write with a knife, carving each word from the generosity of trees.
I write as ritual.
I write out of my inconsistencies. I write with the colors of memory.
I write as a witness to what I have seen. I write as witness to what I imagine.
I write by grace and grit.
I write for the love of ideas.
I write for the surprise of a sentence.
I write with the belief of alchemists.
I write knowing I will always fail. I write knowing words always fall short
I write knowing I can be killed by own words, stabbed by syntax, crucified by understanding and misunderstanding.
I write past the embarrassment of exposure.
I trust  especially myself and slide head first into the familiar abyss of doubt and humiliation and threaten to push the delete button on my way down, or madly erase each line, pick up the paper and rip it into shreds -- and then I realize it doesn't matter, words are always a gamble, words are splinters from cut glass.
I write because it is dangerous, a bloody risk, like love, to form the words, to say the words, to touch the source, to be touched, to reveal how vulnerable we are, how transient.
I write as though I am whispering in tor he ear of the one I love. 

Wow, truly and honestly. wow.  That is so fitting for this journey that we are taking together.  I had heard it once when I was younger and it stuck until all matter of these years later -  it seemed appropriate to share with you guys :)  There are a couple of disclaimers that I want top throw out there before we jump into this week.  First off, this was a medically graphic week for me, and I will be explaining whats been on and why I vanished.  Secondly this has been a week full of ups and downs, of making new friends and reassessing some of my older ones, many learning events.  Thirdly, this has been a very difficult week for me, self discovery wise, and I am still working through some of my recent revelations.  Whatever you decide with this blog, thank you for coming on this ride with me and for all of the prayers, thoughts, support that I have been getting from everyone, and the conversations - not all of them are bad stories, most fun or funny, and all coming from all of you - I can feel the good juju flooding my system and it is helping....now on to the week :)

As many of you know, I have been absent from life for almost a week now, without any real explanation - my apologies for anyone that I worried, that was not my intent; to be honest, I worried myself - here's what happened.  As most of you know I have really been pushing myself in the gym every day, with me adding to my workout from the day before.  It has been and felt amazing and I have really noticed the changes with my body.  As part of my lifestyle change I have to drink a lot of water, and with working out I consume even more usually upwards of 100 ounces a day if not more.  Well, about two weeks ago I noticed that I had stopped urinating.  Maybe I shouldn't stay stopped, because I was still going about an ounce a day, but it certainly wasn't as much as it should be.  My first thought was a UTI because I had a strong and frequent urge to go but I was still not able to.  Then I began to think that maybe my workouts had something to do with it.  Obviously I sweat a lot while at the gym, so I began to assume that I was sweating too much liquid for me to really have to pee.  Then the extreme nausea started to happen.  It started with basic food.  I would eat something and I would instantly become sick.  It felt like the food would just sit on top of my stomach until I would finally throw up.  Me being foolish, I ignored it.  Nausea is a common problem with the surgery I had, so I blew it off.  Then Monday came.  I was at my break at work and I took a drink of water, and was instantly sick.  I tried drinking again several times, each with the same result, and I finally became worried enough to call my doctor.  Doc wanted me in his office immediately so I left work and drove up to the Springs.  I went back in with Doc, explained to him what was going on and how long it had been going on, he checked my hands and feet - my feet were swollen the size of balloons, and the skin on my hands had no rebound - and looked to make sure I wasn't jaundiced.  I was in his office a total of ten minutes and was handed orders to be admitted to the hospital.  We all thought the same thing, I was just too dehydrated and once I got some fluid in system things would work out.  We started with saline IV's and some meds for nausea, but I still wasn't getting better, and I still wasn't urinating.  Doc finally ordered some bolus's to see if we could kick start my kidneys.  Sure enough, they worked and I was finally able to pee after ten days.  Unfortunately, that didn't fix everything, I was still completely nauseous and couldn't tolerate any intake.    The first test we did was an upper gi, barium, some god awful salty confection, and lots of rolling, not the most fun I've ever had.  Thankfully the gi showed that there were no leaks, huge bonus, but we were still in the dark as to what was going on.  Next test was an ultrasound to look at all of my inside parts, again, normal!  We were all so frustrated.  I couldn't keep any food or liquid down and every scan they ran came up good.  It had gotten so bad that Doc was talking about a feeding tube if we didn't get this fixed asap.  My nurses and I were convinced it was my gallbladder, regardless of what the ultrasound showed.  It may not be swollen when looking through the ultrasound but every symptom you can name for gallbladder failure fit.  So, Doc ordered what is called a hydroscan.  With this test you lay on a table and they inject a small about or radiation into you veins.  You can watch the screen in front of you as your liver comes into view and then your gallbladder - it kind of looks like a Rorschach test lol.  Once that is fully visualized - which takes about an hour - they inject another liquid to watch the gallbladder fill up and then watch it drain - that test takes almost two hours, but it is kind of cool to watch and you get  a tv too.  Within two hours Doc was in my room.  The nurses and I were right, my gallbladder was gone.  This was Thursday and we finally had some answers.  My surgery was scheduled for first thing  Friday morning.  The night before and the morning of surgery you are supposed to wash with certain soap to get rid of all of the bacteria, only problem with this I am allergic to it.  So, the nurse called up to Doc and we ended up doing a different sponge bath to get me ready.  Went down for surgery at 6 and was back right on time.  Surgery went perfectly, without a hitch.  They did four incisions - for those of you that are counting that means I have a total of nine incisions on my belly now lol - filled my abdomen with gas (again) and pulled my gallbladder out through my belly button.  The surgery took a little over an hour and I actually woke up in recovery.  I was sore, of course, but I could already tell I was feeling better, first time in weeks I didn't feel like vomiting.  I am still on a liquid diet - broth, juice, jello, popsicles - and I'm not eating most of it, but what I am eating I am successfully keeping down.  More than keeping it down, it's not making me sick, so I think we may have finally solved all of it!!!  I will still be in the hospital for a couple of days, but I am healing and feeling ok.  There is one very big frustration for me with the second surgery - I can't work out again for some time.  No lifting anything heavy, I have to take it slowly on the treadmill, no zumba or pilates, I can't go to kickboxing and I can't do squats or my ab challenge.  I am so upset about that.  I was doing so well!  All of the walking, all of the exercises, I was building back to to where I was getting in an amazing workout everyday and now it's all gone.  Back to baby steps :(  However, every step I take, is still a step in the right direction and I know I can do this.
This week in the hospital has actually been a blessing in some ways.  First off, the staff her is absolutely amazing, I could not be more blessed by them - from the Doctors to the Nurses to the CNA's, all of them have gone above and beyond.  I've also found myself bonding with some of my nurses, to the point that I would call them friends.  The people at Penrose are amazing to begin with, but the people on the bariatric unit have hearts of gold, truly.  Yes, they do their jobs and they do them very well, but it's so much more than that.  They have allowed me to talk and work through some difficult emotions, they have played and joked with me, when we knew it was my gallbladder they helped me fight for the proper tests, they have become my cheerleaders (in fact they are going to start following my blog with all of you) - they even want me to come back up so I can show them my progress.  I've also had quite a few ups and downs this week, and I have had lots of time to consider everything that has been going on since my sleeve was done.  Some of the emotions I've gone through I was not prepared for, at all.  One of my best friends, Beth, had the lap band done awhile ago (she looks amazing by the way) and she was visiting with me the other day.  It's awesome having her to talk to because she actually understands it - not that the people in my life aren't amazing and there for me but if you haven't been there, been through it, then it's hard to fully understand it.  One of the first things I told her was the other day I was craving a McDonalds cheesburger (for those of you that know me you will see the humor in that, I dislike meat, I dislike McDonalds even more lol).  I was telling her about it and how sometimes my cravings will hit out of nowhere, and half the time they are for things I don't like or want.  She looked at me and she put it better than I ever could have, she said after these procedures you mourn food, and that is so true - I just hadn't thought of it that way.  For a lot of heavy people, myself included, we eat more when there are high emotions.  We are upset, scared, crying, angry, celebrating, whatever, we turn to food to either make it complete or to help us feel better; and, in some ways, food becomes like a friend - one of the most reliable friends you will ever know.  After surgery you can't turn to this friend any longer, it will make you sick, uncomfortable, put you in pain, it's like this "friend" you have had your entire life has suddenly betrayed you.  She is right, you do mourn food, you mourn the place it took in your life, the way it made you feel, the ease of just going to the kitchen and grabbing whatever.  Now I have to pay attention to everything that is going into my system.  I have to weigh everything, I have to cut it up in to small pieces so that I can take longer to eat it, I have a special plate and special silverware so that I eat less, I have to time my meals and make sure they take long enough (at least 30 minutes), there is now this whole process that goes into eating anything.  I'm not going to lie, sometimes it even makes me mad.  Yes, I chose this, and I don't regret it I would do it again tomorrow, but I can't just run through a drive through and eat something.  Technically I can eat whatever I want, but it doesn't work that way.  I have to pay extra attention to what nutrients are getting into my system because I can't eat a bunch to keep them up, and if I chose to eat something in the "junk food" category I will be full and it won't be a good full - I will feel bloated and nasty, so this entire process is redeveloping a relationship with food, this time a healthy one.  Another thing I found myself sitting here processing is the fact that, as excited as I am to be losing the weight and getting healthy, I am terrified about what will happen after I have lost the weight.  My size has become my shield, my comfort zone.  I don't have to worry about men finding me attractive or making advances because I am so big.  I am really good about making the jokes about my size before anybody else does; after all, they are going to laugh at me anyway, why not make it so they are laughing at something I said.  I've been heavy for most of my life and I've allowed that to define who I am, it's how I interact with people - strangers and friends - it's how I react to my kids, it's what my relationships have been built around, what will I be when I can no longer hide behind my size?  Who will I be?  The idea of being so exposed and vulnerable shakes me to my core and it is going to take me quite a while to process it and figure out who I am without my size defining me.  There is so much I have realized this week, so much I want to share with all of you, but I have already rambled long enough - the rest will wait for another day.  Doc just said I should be released from the hospital tomorrow and then I will have up to two weeks of bed rest before returning to work, so I will have time to write more.  I know this one is long and I appreciate you for sticking through it with me today.  As always if you have any questions, comments, things you would like me to address, please just let me know and I will talk about it in my next blog.  Until then, thank you for reading and being part of my journey, have fun, and stay safe....love you all!!!

Work....and Workouts

Well, yesterday was my first day back at work, and today was my first day actually working.  Word to the wise for everybody that thinks a free day to just chill at you desk is fun - the first hour, maybe two, aren't too bad....after that you are counting tiles on the ceiling and praying for anybody to walk by and talk to you for entertainment.  Trust me on this.  It was good though, to not have to do too much yesterday.  I forgot every password that I need, which was fabulous.  It took me forever to remember how to unlock my computer and when I finally did I got the popup that my password was old and needed to be change - but when I had to retype my old one in I couldn't remember what I had just typed.  Take that process and repeat for every password I have at work (I have several) and feel free to laugh hysterically at what a goob I looked like - I know I was laughing.  Once I got my passwords straightened out I weeded through a million emails - ok, 368, but that's still a bunch of deleting lol.  Then I went through the meeting and tailgates I've missed in the past month to catch myself up on everything I missed in the month I was gone.  All of this got me to around 8:30 (I work 7:30-4:30) and then I was free to read through some of my tools and catch up on the news - I use the term catch up lightly because I have been watching massive amounts of news over the past month, but I did read the entertainment and sports sections of the ap news, so that was something new.  I will admit that sitting for that long was slightly difficult for me.  It's been some time since I've sat upright for any amount of time and my incisions aren't totally healed yet - plus they did cut through abdominal muscle - so I did get achy and tight sitting there, but that was mostly better by today.  Today was much better in terms of speed.  I was finally actually working which makes it go so much faster.  The funny thing was, I consider myself fairly good at my job, I know my tools and how to use everything - but my first couple of calls I totally drew a blank.  Couldn't remember where to go or what to do, and they were simple calls - thankfully I have always been good at gabbing so I was able to talk until I found my footing again.  It was beyond words to see most of my friends again - I can't tell you how much I've missed them!  Tomorrow is going to complete it because the rest of my team will finally be there and I get to see them....I'm so excited!

As for working out - it's going really well.  Today was definitely a "Dory" workout though.  I've been doing the squat challenge, and I try to do it after I work out and get my treadmill done, it seems to work well for me.  Today, however, all of the treadmills were full so I decided to do squats first.  Now, my legs are already sore and shaky and I had to add five more than I did yesterday.  I start my squats, and the first five or so were fine - no pain, nothing horrible, very doable.  Then it started getting rough.  I kept pushing through and working on doing them correctly - I've been really focused on form and making sure that I am doing everything effectively - so I ended up redoing 6 of them.  By them time I had hit my number my legs were on fire.  It was good, I love the feeling you get from working out, Joe calls it "good pain" and I would have to agree.  It feels like you have accomplished things.  After squats, I made my way to the treadmill - heaven help me lol.  Lately I've been doing an hour on the treadmill, all uphill, all at a fast walk.  I love it, I pop my headsets in and just zone out the world, it's perfect.  Then there was tonight.  I did make it over 40 minutes, but my incline was about 1/2 of what I have been doing and my pace was much slower.  After about five minutes I just kept chanting "just keep swimming, just keep swimming" to myself.  I didn't think that I would make it the full 30 minutes, much less an extra 10 after that - but I did it.  I was trying so hard for a full hour, but my legs were shaking so much there was no way.  I still made it the 40 minutes though and I am very proud of that.  After that I went and worked on arms for a bit and then ( drum roll please) I did FIVE crunches!!!  First crunches since the surgery!  I was so very excited.  They hurt like heck but they felt amazing.  I can't wait to build that up as well.  I'm really pushing and working hard, I will do it this time!  I already have a dress and high heels picked out for when I hit my goal weight.  (For anybody that knows me both of those are huge things for me and also very rare - kind of like dinosaur sightings).  Next Wednesday is another weight check so I will let you guys know what happens there and I will also be taking another picture then too.  As always, if you have any questions, thoughts, ideas, anything, please write me or email!  Until next time, thank you for reading and stay safe!!!

Hi Ho Hi Ho......

Well, this is it, my final night before work.  I can't believe it's been a month since I was at work, since I saw most of my friends, since I had a full eight hours out of the house lol.  Truth be told, I'm nervous - ok, more than nervous.  I have so many people pulling for me, so many people that have been by my side, my strength, my support, everything, and I'm so scared that I will let them down.  I am afraid that I will walk in tomorrow and my body won't have changed enough to make them proud.  I know there are changes, I see them, I feel them, I know they are there, but what if nobody else does?  I also understand that I am doing this for me, not everybody else, and that's great and I agree, but I still don't want to let anyone down.  In my heart of hearts I know this is my journey, my path, my success, and my failures - that is reality - but there is something to be said for the people that are there for you, that are with you through thick and thin, good days and bad, no matter what.  There is power there, and joy, and love, and gratefulness, and I don't want to disappoint any of them -  I don't want them to feel like all of their time and energy was for nothing, because it has meant the world to me.  I have made some major steps in the past weeks.  I am walking over three miles now, all uphill, which is huge!  I used to walk so much more than that, and do it faster, but I don't beat myself up - I know that I am making progress and that changes are happening - baby steps.  I also ordered the beach body at home system so that I can work out at home on the days that I can't get to the gym.  Along with that, I have a friend that sells yoli and another several that use it and love it, so I am going to jump on the wagon and try that along with all of the other changes I am making.  It looks amazing and every little bit is worth it.  It's funny the things that I struggle with still, things you don't think about.  My stomach is too small for me to eat too much at once, but that doesn't mean that I can't eat anything I want - at least try to and see if it makes me sick.  So, there are times that I have to really pay attention to what I'm about to put into my body.  Thankfully, most things that used to be my weakness don't appeal to me any longer, but other things do.  I'm not big on sugar, as a matter of fact I have to water down apple juice because it's too sweet for me, but I still love bread which I'm not supposed to eat because it is difficult to digest.  I also have always had something to drink while I'm eating, but if I do that now it makes my stomach hurt, so I have to be careful.  My biggest struggle, however, is making sure I take the proper amount of time to eat my meals and that I chew them as completely as possible.  I have to take at least 30 minutes to eat anything, but that is much harder than it sounds.  I think part of it comes from working in restaurants for so long.  When you have food, especially hot food, you eat it as quickly as you can before it gets cold or you run out of time or a table needs you, whatever.  So you learn to eat fast, without much chewing if possible - which brings up my second stumbling block.  I have to chew food until it is almost liquid...trust me, that sounds way easier than it is - if you ever get really bored try it sometime - it's more difficult that you would think.  I am getting there though.  Slower bites, longer meals, more exercise, extra water, it's all coming into place - not as quickly as I would like, but I am getting there.  This whole thing is a process, one that is taking will power, energy, prayers, and a little luck, and it will be a life long process - but it will all be worth it when I can run with my girls without gasping for breath.  After work tomorrow I am going to the gym and then I will write and let you know how my first day back is.  Until then, thank you for reading and stay safe!!

Hitting the gym

Hey guys! I know its been a bit since I've written, I've been slacking - sorry.   The gym has been going fabulous! Ive made it to 2.6 miles on the treadmill,  all uphill.  I'm finally starting zumba and pilates, and today is my first kickboxing class which I'm super excited for!  Most of my incisions have healed really well.  I have a couple of stitches that still haven't dissolved so I will be asking the doc about that when I see him in two weeks.  I have one site that is still really tender and bruised so I'm still babying that side.  I really noticed it yesterday when I was pulling down the door to my trunk, it flexed that muscle and I could feel it pull - just taking its time.  I went to lunch on Monday with one of my best friends, that was a new adventure lol.  I ordered soup and salad, ate about 1/5 of the soup and brought the salad home (my girls ate it lol).  It was so much fun to get out of the house and hang out with her, and it was good to go out to eat and see what I can do and what options I have.  I do have a card that states I had stomach surgery so that I can order smaller portions,  but I didn't use it this time.  I go back to work next week.  Extremely excited and very nervous too.  Work is where I sit all day and snack on things, which I can't do anymore - I dont want to do that anymore.  It will be another challenge for me, but I am so lucky that I have the amazing friends and support there that I do.  I know it will work out - I just have to remember,  baby steps.  Well, I'm going to go work in the house and get ready for the gym, I will write soon!  Until then be happy,  and stay safe :)♥