Haircut and run?

Tummy tucks are...challenging for the impatient.

I am now 14 weeks post op and lemme tell ya something; I am nowhere near back to normal. Not that I ever WAS normal, but....you know what I mean. My RNY gastric bypass was a walk in the park, recovery wise, compared to this. It's not that I've had any complications or anything like that. On the contrary, I'm doing very well! It's just a long process when someone slices through your abdominal muscles, takes off 13 pounds of skin and tissue, then sews you back up. It takes a while.

Never being one to be patient with anything at all in life, ever, this is getting on my nerves. I want to go back to my life. Can't. I still don't lift very much - because I know from past experience I'll regret it if I do - and I am not able to work out very hard. The first time I really, really pushed myself was November 18 and I felt it all week long. Thinking I could do it without my binder - or Spanx, at this point - was a mistake. I had been getting along so well that I hadn't had it on for well over a week, though I still take it to work with me every day in case I need it. Well, after that workout, I was back to wearing it every day again.

The thing is this: I need to move. I will gain weight if I don't push myself, so I'm kind of worried. And I'm out of shape from sitting on the sofa recovering.

My support group, the Community of Bariatric Patients of Southern Ontario, has put together a couple of teams to take part in an event called the Santa Shuffle. It's a 5K to support the Salvation Army. We're going to wear Santa hats and freeze our asses off, but it'll be fun and for a good cause! It's no secret that I love events like this. I never participated in sports growing up because well, just dragging my "husky" self through gym class was demoralizing enough; it never entered my head to put myself through that voluntarily! LOL! So I was 41 the first time I crossed a finish line. It was amazing! The endorphin rush and shot of self-esteem was crazy and I enjoy it every single time.

I figured a 5K would be a good, easy start to get me back into the event swing of things. I've already signed up for a 10K and a half marathon next year; I need to get my shit together. Well, after my dismal performance at the gym on Nov. 18, I got a little concerned that I would embarrass myself at the Shuffle, so I signed up for a 2.5K on the 24th. The annual Jingle Bell Run features a 2.5K fun run/walk and a 5K run to benefit the YMCA, which I belong to (that's how I found out about the event). Figuring I could use the cold-weather outing/training and event atmosphere as a warm-up to the Shuffle, I signed up for the 2.5K, the "kiddie" run. LOL! I certainly wasn't the only adult in the race, but yeah, it was mostly kids. Cute kids. Who are in way better shape than me!

I put on my cold-weather gear purchased for that one-time-only (seriously) RUN I did this past March, a set of pink cammo reindeer antlers and hoped for the best. Oh...and I wore my binder. Yeah.

The thought going in was to break my dismal 10-minute kilometer I presented at the gym on the 18th. I figured if I could beat that, in the biting cold, I would be happy. So I needed to finish under 25 minutes. And I did it! Just under 23. And right in front of an older couple, just like back in March. LOL! Yay! I beat the old people again!



I felt good during the race, no pain. Got a free massage afterwards, which always helps. Later on that night, though, my abdomen started protesting. By the next morning, I was popping Tylenol and reaching for my binder again. Wore it all week, too. I dunno....now I'm worried about the Shuffle 5K. I'll do the best I can and try not to push myself too hard but I know that will be difficult. When the race starts and I see everyone moving around me, I'll want to GO. I need to take care of myself but I also want to get moving!

My hair has been making me crazy lately, so I decided to book an appointment with a stylist popular with some of my friends in my support group. She was responsible for the makeover featured at our meet & greet last month, too. My hair is 95% back to pre-gastric bypass normal. It's thick and curly again, but still very dry and coarse. The texture isn't the same and it's not quite as thick as it once was. But I can't complain. I'd been growing it out for a long time without a good trim so it needed some help. This is the result - keep in mind I haven't worn my hair straight since the '80s. When everyone else had big hair, I was trying to tame mine by wearing it short and as straight as I could get it. LOL! Anyway...the new cut:



Am I going to recreate this every day? Hells no. It took Terra (the pro) several balms, ointments and tools (none of which I own or know how to use) to get this result and I'm just not the girl who's willing to spend a lot of time on her hair. I wash and go. She said that would be possible with this cut; I hope so. People have been raving about it - to my face, anyway! LOL! I'm still on the fence about the straight thing; the short thing I'm ok with. My first impression was that I looked like a PTA mom or an anchorwoman and much older. Conventional, conservative, sort of like everyone else's hair. It's just so different, I guess! So unlike anything I've ever done to my hair. It'll take some getting used to. The remarkable thing is that I slept on this hair last night and it still looks this way right now. THAT is incredible. LOL! The positive feedback has been nice, though - often, certainly, we see ourselves in one way while others have a different view. If enough people tell you that you look good...maybe you should believe them.

My husband is on wife #5 at this point. He just keeps looking at me and saying WOW. Not sure if it's a good wow or a bad wow.

Ah well. The ride continues!! Happy Thanksgiving if you're in the States and reading this. I miss my family during the holidays so much. Maybe one day I'll have a job where I can actually take time off every year and make it home.

The good re-gain

I was in a pretty bad state of mind when I wrote my last post (duh). But this past week, I decided to take at least one step in the right direction and get things back on track.

A few times a year since my surgery, I do something called the 5 Day Pouch Test (5DPT). It's always helped me get back on track both physically and mentally. And I do notice that, of course, when things go off the rails in my brain, my diet goes off track. I can eat pretty much whatever I want at this point in my journey and that's dangerous. Since I'm so far out post-op, it's even more important to get control of my eating habits before the unthinkable happens and I get some serious re-gain. Of course, there are things I avoid simply because I guess they'll always be harder for me to digest (chicken breast, rice, sugary drinks, regular white bread, and others) but I definitely have to make smart choices just like those who haven't had surgery. The pouch is a tool to be used wisely for the rest of my life. I can screw it up and gain everything back *that just gave me a shiver* Every person who has surgery is different but this is how it is for me.

In the past, I've beaten myself up for not making smart choices 100% of the time. You know - one of those people who is like "WHOO-HOO!! No more bread, EVER! No more sugar, EVER!! I will never eat another french fry or slice of pizza again...EVER!! Zumba twice a day!! Whoo-hoo!! Forever!!" with no deviation. I know people like that - or at least, that's how they present themselves - and bless their hearts but I'm just not that girl! It used to really bother me that I couldn't seem to be like them but I've come to accept my humanity couple of years. In order to be successful - for me - I have to give myself some leeway to eat like a normal person and not Jillian Michaels (blech) sometimes. If I constantly beat myself up over it, I'll just feel badly and...eat more crap. So no. Over, done with, gone.

Even so...some people need refresher courses once in a while. That's how I see the 5DPT. The plan is controversial in some weight loss-surgery circles. If you mention it on certain message boards or in certain groups, you will get POUNDED. Whatever. It works for me when I do it and I'll just continue doing what works for me, thanks. This is why I don't belong to many groups or any message boards. It doesn't matter what you're doing, someone will tell you you're wrong. Really wrong! And you're gonna die! LOL! I don't need it in my life.

5DPT is just getting back to basics, in my opinion. Protein, protein, protein. It does eliminate all carbs and I confess that I do not do that. I follow the plan and make the recipes, but I add fruit. Apples, grapes, a banana...some fruit every day just like always. And I eat a protein bar every day...just like I always do. Lots of water and recipes that go with the plan on the corresponding days. The key word here is "plan". You have to make a plan to follow this plan. This is important. We all need to figure out what we're going to eat before we get hungry and start rummaging through the fridge like a starved maniac. That is a habit that needs to be kept long after the 5 days are over.

This past week while on the plan, I lost 9 pounds. Yes. Nine pounds in 5 days. That's kind of unusual in that I average 5-7 when I've followed it in the past. That tells me I was holding onto a lot of crap inside my body that needed to be shed. I was also holding onto a lot of crap in my brain. Taking control of my eating habits has helped my outlook tremendously.

I decided to keep a Right Journal. I made two columns and kept an ongoing list every day of the things I did right on one side and things I needed to work on in the other. "Work on" - not wrong. Positivity was important to me this week and I really tried to focus on that. It worked well and let me go back and see that I do a lot more right than not. I know how to do this thing called life. It's a pretty incredible one that I've created for myself. And I need to remember to treat myself well - which goes right along with making smarter choices for my body. It'll do my mind a world of good.

So I lost 9 pounds but re-gained a new, positive outlook. The best kind of re-gain! I'm determined to make more changes in my life and continue on this path. We only get one chance, right?

Unforgettable

I notice I tend to put off posts when I feel like I don't have a lot of good things to say. This wasn't the case in the past; I used this platform to blow off steam, vent about my frustrations and generally bitch and moan. But in the past year or so, I feel like my posts should have a positive spin, some lesson to be learned.

But I haven't been in a positive head space lately. I've lost a ton of weight. I've had a tummy tuck to make me even more aesthetically pleasing. And yet I'm still not totally happy. This has nothing to do with losing weight or how I look. It has to do with how I feel, about me. I get that.

And there's this: It's been almost 4-1/2 years since my surgery and about 3 years since I have been this size. The shine seems to have worn off the diamond. I'm accustomed to myself now and no longer think I look so awesome. For the past few years, I would look at photos of myself and couldn't believe it was me! That ship has mostly sailed, and if anything, I look at photos and would swear to you that I looked better than the person shown. That's new to me; I was used to myself pre-op. I had always been very obese and well...that's how I looked. I never shied away from cameras and just accepted it. So it's frustrating to me that I am becoming uncomfortable with the way I look.

I don't know how to explain it better than that. It's a very odd emotional state.

One more thing bugging me more and more lately: Why the hell am I so unforgettable? I seem to slip peoples' minds. And what is it about me that makes people not listen when I talk or remember what I say? Very often I find myself thinking "Yeah, I said that 5 days ago," or "Yeah, that was actually my idea," or "Yeah, I was there and spoke to you several times." I have never been the type of person people go out of their way for. But the way I am sometimes ignored is really starting to get on my nerves. And I have to think the way I'm treated has something to do with the way I carry myself, the way I feel about myself. The common denominator is me. You teach people how to treat you.

I'm tired of feeling like shit inside but putting on a smile.

All of this boils down to self-esteem. So if you're going to tell me that losing weight doesn't fix your head, please don't. I know that. I've written about it a lot. Putting it into practice is a whole different level of awareness that I'm just starting to really, really GET. And no one can change it but me. It may mean some big, big changes but I'm starting to think I have to do some things for ME. Not trying to please everyone else, not trying to just go along for the sake of argument. But for ME.

When people forget you, you have to remember yourself.

Getting there

Probably not too smart to do an entry at 3am but I'm a WTF kinda girl, so here we go.

Day 34 post-op. I had an appointment with my surgeon on Thursday. Well...it was supposed to be with my surgeon, but I was almost 30 minutes late due to the total suckage of Toronto traffic - I left early and took the supposedly super-fast toll highway and was still late - so I ended up seeing his partner instead. He's a nice guy; it was fine. He removed several stitches that had "pushed out" (his phrase) and told me I was healing remarkably well considering my stage in recovery. "You are well ahead of schedule, based on how this looks," he said of my Bride of Frankenstein scarring. Oh...it's supposed to look worse than this? Alrighty then.

I do seem to have good luck with recovery, knock on wood. My gastric bypass was very uneventful and remains so to this day, save a slightly low ferritin level. I can't complain.

He told me I should be ok to return to work on schedule, September 23, but he still didn't want me lifting anything. I got no real answers to the itching problem (largely gone now) or the low blood pressure issue (still hanging around). Just more of what I've already heard that neither explains why it was/is happening nor gives me any way to relieve it. So I just let it drop. Ok. No answers to Cindy Weirdness, as usual...moving on.

He also looked through the photos that my PS asked me to bring with me to the OR the day of my surgery that were in my chart and went on and on about how much progress I've made, how far I've come. "You should be one of our models," he said to me. "If we had models!" He even went back through my surgeon's camera to find the shots he took of me in the OR that day. I never know how real that stuff is when I hear it. Is this something everyone hears? Maybe. So I never know how to react. When the appointment was over, he led me out to the waiting area and had the PS's assistant (the psycho) look at my before pictures, resulting in my first real "moment" with the woman. She told me how she was trying to get a relative of hers to have weight loss surgery; how she sees the results every day and it would be good for the relative to go through with it, but the person was afraid. She told me she thought I was brave and admired what I'd done. Whaaaa?? It was actually a nice conversation. Will wonders never cease? She is human after all.

He took some photos of me to show my PS and I made another appointment in a month's time. The drive to and from Toronto wiped me out and I went to bed early, sleeping late. I still get tired quite easily.

As far as how I feel..physically and mentally I'm doing better and better every day. I can bend fairly normally now and I feel like getting up and doing things - which means I'm becoming a bit bored - instead of sitting around and napping all the time. In fact, I was feeling so well that I tried on most of my wardrobe last week...and regretted it soon afterwards. It completely wiped me out. Before the surgery, I was warned not to overdo it when I started to feel better. Good advice.

There are two big trash bags full of clothes that are now too big for me. Shirts, jeans, pants, dresses...a lot have to go. And a lot just fit better, too. I still have a lot of clothes! LOL! But I will need to get new underwear and some new jeans. The selection of non-granny panty undies is a little overwhelming. I've never been able to wear such things and don't really know where to start! I keep looking around then leaving empty-handed because I just...I dunno. Dunno what to buy, I guess! A friend has offered to help me with that so we'll see how that goes. LOL! I need instruction on buying underwear. I also need to investigate low-rise jeans. Having to pull my old jeans up to my armpits (LOL) and cinch my belt three more notches isn't going to cut it.

Here's a shot I already posted on Facebook, but it shows what used to be my favorite pair of cropped jeans, along with a t-shirt I have never been able to wear because it's an XL that fits like a medium:


My support group has clothing exchanges, so I'm hoping to find something through that avenue. Also, there will be a massive exchange at the meet and greet I mentioned in my last post. So...wish me luck.

Insomnia sucks. Still not really tired...I think one of the reasons I'm having trouble sleeping tonight is I know I have to go back to work soon. After my appointment on Thursday, I stopped in at my company to let my supervisors know that I'd be back on time and everything was going well. This was the first time I'd walked in the place since I left. Hardly anyone gave me the time of day. It was very clear I was interrupting World Peace Talks or something. There were only a few people who even stopped what they were doing long enough to ask me how I was feeling. It's the main thing I don't like about the place - everyone is "too busy", the company is very impersonal and cold. There are people who have worked in the same building for years and don't know one another. I dunno, I find that to be very sad. Maybe it's just me. I'm not really looking forward to going back.

I think trying on the clothes helped my brain catch up a bit. It forced me to look in the mirror and grasp that this is the way I look now. And I look pretty damn good with clothes on! LOL!

TT PTSD

I know it's been too long since my last entry, but I have a good reason. The feelings I'm having are a little complex, enough that I have been having trouble putting them into words.

So now I'm 24 days post-op from my tummy tuck (TT) and doing pretty well. Well, if you don't count the stun-gun zaps from nerve regeneration and the feeling like Mike Tyson has been using my abdomen for a sparring partner (muscle repair healing). There has also been a lot of itching. Not so much from the incision sites, but all over my torso. I stopped taking Percocets a while back and just take Tylenol as needed at this point, also Benadryl for the aforementioned weird itching. All of that has been been getting better the past couple of days, however, so I see a light at the end of the tunnel.

My next appointment with my surgeon is next Thursday, September 12 and I'm not looking forward to the drive to Scarborough. Sigh. I find I get tired pretty easily. When I go out, I want to come home as soon as possible...mostly to take a nap.

Then there's my binder. Ahhh, the binder. It's such a love/hate thing. I was cleared to stop using it at 3 weeks post op but...I feel like I still need it. I hate wearing it but I feel like my guts are gonna fall out if I don't. So yeah. Still wearing either it or tight Spanx for the most part.

From an emotional standpoint, I have ups and downs. Now, the expected reaction might be complete elation but well...it's more complicated than that, at least for me. You know how you finally remodel the kitchen that's been driving you crazy for years and while you're thrilled with the results, it also highlights the fact that you also really, really need a new sofa, window treatments and yeah...the bathroom needs work, too? That's kinda how it's been for me lately.

For most of my life, my stomach has been a huge area of concern. Referring to my lower abdomen as my "drop stomach", I sort of learned to work around it. I bought shirts that covered it as much as possible - long and loose. Finding a shirt that would hit the tops of my thighs (always my goal) could be very difficult for my 5'10" self. It's weird to say, but I got used to looking the way I did, I guess. But my stomach was a pain in my ass because it was so hard to clothe and it was always in the way. Lifting it up and out of my way to do even the most basic of hygiene tasks...it wasn't pretty. So I was really looking forward to the TT so I could finally be rid of it! And don't get me wrong, it's awesome! Even though I'm squeamish and don't like to look at the horrible scars too much (LOL), what I see of my abdomen when I ignore them, I do like. And I've never said that before...ever.

But it just makes everything else more vivid. Especially my thighs. Lord god almighty. The problem is that I can SEE them now. So while I'm looking in the mirror at my new, flat stomach - I'm also seeing these absolutely horrific upper thighs. And much like my stomach, there is absolutely nothing short of plastic surgery that is going to make them look much better. Let's put it this way...when people excitedly tell me they bet I can't wait for bikini season...while I appreciate the good wishes that I know such a comment entails...I will never wear a bikini, or even a bathing suit, because of my thighs.

Maybe a bikini TOP and board shorts.

This pisses me off, you know? It makes me mad that now there's this other thing that looks like total shit and also that it bothers me so much!! I know my brain just needs to catch up (again) to this huge change and I'll be ok. Honestly, I know that. Good enough needs to be good enough. Someone blogged about this very topic not long ago....yeah. Practice what you preach, Cin.

The good news is, most everything I've tried on so far has been baggy. Especially my shirts and dresses, which was unexpected. I expected to change more in my jeans/pants, but I honestly think there will be more of my shirt wardrobe that will have to go. And, there are some things which just fit "better", so it's all good. A tight shirt looks pretty damn good on me now; nothing is too short or too tight because there are no fat rolls. That's pretty amazing! I haven't felt up to trying on too much yet since I still have trouble bending, but I'm really looking forward to going through my closet yet again and seeing what goes and what stays. And then shopping for things I never thought I'd be able to wear! Are half shirts in style? No? Well crap...

I'm very fortunate to have a supportive network of friends who have gone through this and assure me that I'm not crazy. So I know what I'm feeling is pretty normal and that helps. I am so lucky to have found the people at the Community for Bariatric Patients of Southern Ontario (CBPSO). My local support group in Cambridge is hosting our annual meet & greet this year and I'm really looking forward to it! I'm playing a small part, designing some of the posters, brochures, etc. I figure it's the least I can do for a group that has given me so much. You know it's true....we all get by with a little help from our friends.

Drains and dresses

Thirteen days post-op! No way am I ready to do cartwheels, but things are definitely chugging along.

Both drains came out this past week - two days apart - and GOOD LORD!! Those things were really long. I had no idea I had that much room left in my abdomen. LOL! It didn't hurt at all. Like, not even a little bit. You know what was painful? Getting the tape off my pubic hair. Yes. I would have to say that so far, that is the most painful thing I've had to go through.

And some people PAY someone to do that to them *shudder*

I'm pretty squeamish when it comes to blood and guts, so I don't look at myself that much. I can't bear to see the Bride of Frankenstein look. Seriously, I look horrid! I know the scars will flatten and fade over time, it's just difficult for me to look at them. I've said it before. I'm a wuss. Sue me.

Also, I still feel like I'm going to break. If I remove my binder to take a shower, it kinda stresses me out. Raising my arms makes me feel like I might rip open or something. I'm starting to walk more normally, though.

There seems to be a bit of an issue with low blood pressure but I'm sure that will pass, too. I have been told that is fairly common after the tummy tuck. Removing 13 pounds of skin and tissue is very trying on the body, I would imagine. Just trying to watch myself when I get up so I don't get too light headed and dizzy.

I have completely stopped the Percocets and am taking Tylenol 2-3 times a day. Nerves seem to be waking up; I'm having a little more pain now. Fleeting sharp pains nowhere near any incisions. The incisions themselves ache somewhat but not badly. However, my hips are still totally numb.

A big complaint right now? I am so tired of sleeping on my back. In fact, I think it's interfering with my sleep patterns. I sleep for about five hours and wake up with a backache. Then I get up for about an hour, then, still exhausted, go back to bed for another 4-5 hours. I long for the day I can sleep on my side or stomach. Ugh.

Last year, I bought a cotton maxi dress at Old Navy. It was about $10 and very casual - I even thought I might wear it as a bathing suit cover-up. The only one in a pattern I liked was a size large but I tried it on anyway...and it fit! I was really stoked to have a size large in my closet! LOL! Yesterday, I pulled that dress out of the closet because I wanted something other than my nightgown to wear. Underwear rubs against my scars causing discomfort and I can't bend over well to get pants on so, nightgowns have been my outfit of choice for the most part. Anyway...I pulled out this dress and slipped it over my head. It's baggy! I was pretty surprised. I know there is a big chunk of my stomach gone but it's still kind of jarring. It will be interesting to see how my jeans fit me.

What a long, strange trip the past four years has been. So many new and exciting adventures so far and more to come!

Flat

It's been eight days since my tummy tuck and I have to say this isn't as hard as I feared it might be.

I still have two drains in my abdomen, dressings and a ACE bandage-like binder to contend with, but the pain isn't so bad. The recommended dosage for my percocets is 1-2 every 6 hours. I never had to take two and am now taking one about every eight hours. We keep stretching the time between doses and I think very soon, I will not need them at all. I don't have PAIN, per se, as much as a pulling sensation and occasional burning at the site of my left drain incision. There are pins & needles sometimes, that feeling you get when your foot is asleep then you step on it. However, I am heeding the warning of not doing too much too soon. Just because I'm not doubled over in pain doesn't mean I should go out and do another half marathon next week.

The procedure itself went very well. My PS requested that I bring before-and-after photos with me, so I did. He showed them to the whole surgical team.It only took 3-1/2 hours and my PS said he took off 13 pounds. I guess he knew what he was talking about when he was estimating! Erich was told the amount in kilograms and miscalculated so I announced 14 pounds on Facebook, but that isn't technically correct. One pound difference, splitting hairs - right? That's a pretty amazing amount. At my first check-up, my PS said a little 100-pound Filipino nurse had to lug that 13-pound thing off the table and was having trouble! LOL!

After they took me to my room (of which I have no memory) I slept most of the day and night. I remember telling Erich to go around 9:00 pm, that he needed to eat something and get some rest because all I was doing was sleeping anyway. Or at least, I was trying to. I had a semi-private room and of course, I drew the roommate from hell. Five or six people with her all the time, making tons of noise. Another fuzzy memory from last Monday was angrily saying "Shhhh!!" at them so I could get some friggin' rest. I'd drift off then her daughter's cell phone would ring. The woman acted like she was DYING - the grunting, moaning and groaning...YIKES! - except when her family was there, then she was loud, animated and chatty. They shrieked at each other in Arabic, I think. Yeah, it was not good. Ah well. I spent about 24 hours there, then we were off to the hotel.

I vaguely remember the nurse asking me if it was ok that Erich see the surgical site. She needed to pull up my gown. Of course it was ok with me. What I DO remember is the look on his face the first time he saw my flat stomach. "It looks GOOD," he told me. I took his word for it and went back to sleep.

They did the usual "you must pee to be discharged" thing and that was my first A-HA moment. For as long as I can remember, I've had to lift up my stomach to wipe after I urinate. Now I don't have to do that. Again...the little things most people take for granted.

In the van on the way to our hotel, I looked down and could see the tops of my thighs for the first time. I kept staring down. Crazy. The shirt I had on was much baggier than when I arrived.

At some point that day, Erich was helping me to the bathroom at the hotel room and we passed the full-length mirror. I was naked except for my binder and Erich stopped me so I could look at my profile. Ok, lemme say this: I didn't know I had an ass. Like, my stomach is flat and my ass jutts out. You know, the way it's supposed to? My boobs jutt out in front, my stomach is flat and my ass jutts out in back. Like a normal woman. "Oh my god! Is that me??" I was seriously stunned. I stared at myself for a little bit, amusing my husband. I now have to move my boobs out of the way to see my torso. I used to have to move my stomach out of the way to see my feet. At the beginning of all this, I bought a talking scale because I COULDN'T SEE IT TO READ IT. Craaaaazy stuff.

It's still too soon to feel the full impact of the change, of course. I haven't even really had clothes on yet. I'm pretty much living in my nightgown except when the home nurses come, then I pull on panties, pj pants and an old shirt.

I've been very happy with my PS during all of this until last Monday. On at least three different occasions during the day, I was asked if someone had come with me to the hospital and of course I always said yes. However, Erich waited and waited for my PS to come speak to him after my procedure and he didn't come. Finally, Erich saw on the electronic board the hospital has in the waiting room that my surgery was over, so he went up to my room (they already told us what room I'd be in). Eventually, we had my PS paged and he spoke to Erich on the phone. He apologized and said he didn't know I had anyone with me, that I didn't mention it. HELLO?? This made absolutely no sense to me. I didn't know it was my job to tell him, "Hey, my husband's in the waiting room," before they put me under in the OR. I'd told others. He said he didn't see it in my file. I don't know if I believe that - several people would've had to have been out to lunch that day, not doing their jobs. And even if they had...still doesn't excuse it, in my opinion. This was the first blip I had with him personally and not his assistant. Then...he never came to see ME, the patient. Didn't come that day or the next. Tuesday morning, another doctor doing rounds came in and said my PS called to check on my chart and said I could go home. Um, what? This was at like 7:30 am. His office and clinic are in the hospital. He couldn't come to see me, to talk to me himself? Really? I never saw him or talked to him until my appointment on Thursday. BIG BLIP. I wasn't impressed by this example of bedside manner at all. It seemed so different from what I know him to be like in his office. His assistant called and checked on me when we were in the hotel, but still. I wasn't impressed.

In any event, all is going well at least in the physical sense. I am not used to sitting around so much and it's starting to get on my nerves. But I have lots of things on the DVR to watch and I'm reading a book called "Heft" by Liz Moore. Check out the link - great story.

In the morning

Tomorrow I will get up at the butt crack of dawn and head to Scarborough, on the east end of Toronto, to once again pay a surgeon to cut me open and try to repair some of the self-inflicted damage I have done to myself over the course of my life.

It's hard not to feel some guilt about the whole thing. It's my fault, after all! But I continue to attempt to forgive myself and learn from the mistakes of my past. A friend told me recently, "You know better now. You didn't then. Remember, you are worth it." This is good advice in theory, and I love her for saying it, but I dunno...intellectually, I absolutely knew what to do to achieve and maintain a healthy weight. I had followed so many diet programs that I knew a LOT about nutrition and exercise. I really did. I just chose not to follow it. I suppose we're all that way...we know what to do but for some reason we don't think we deserve it, so we sabotage ourselves. Why do we punish ourselves so much? That's the million-dollar question. If we could all come to terms with that and move past it, we'd all be fabulous and there'd be no reason for most forms of self-medication - from heroin and vodka to Prozac and Pop Tarts. There are biological and behavioral reasons for what we do; it's a struggle every day to overcome the demons we all face.

It seems like this is all happening very fast. My first visit with my plastic surgeon (PS) was in April! But honestly, I should've had this tummy tuck about 2 years ago. So I AM READY. Bring on the flat stomach. That concept is sort of unimaginable to me. Unlike some people who lose weight later in life, I do not remember myself thin. I have no point of reference. So this will be a whole new ball game for me once again. I had to get used to my new body when I lost weight and will have to do it again.

I was in Ohio recently visiting family and passed a display of various types of belts in a department store. I normally ignore such displays...though I did have to buy a (plain black) belt to hold up my jeans after I lost weight. In order to slip the jeans over the excess skin on my lower abdomen, the waist gaps quite a bit so I must wear a belt. However, I have never been able to tuck my shirt into my jeans, so pretty belts were not on my radar. When I passed the display, I said to Erich, "Hey...after the tummy tuck, maybe I can buy one of these snazzy belts because MAYBE I can tuck my shirt into my jeans so you'll be able to see it!" Seriously, this is a big deal. LOL!

It's the little things that so many people take for granted.

Also...I am losing patience with my Spanx. I have to wear it every day to keep my lower abdomen somewhat stable, i.e., so it doesn't shift around and give me a rash. I hate it and hope I won't have to wear it much - maybe on special occasions - after the surgery. Of course, I'll probably need a smaller size! I expect to have to buy new panties and maybe jeans. I think I might go down a size.

Ruby Gettinger once said of plastic surgery, "I'm trading fat for skin, skin for scars. The scars are a reminder of what I did to myself, and that's hard." It's clearly difficult to come to terms with the fact that you'll never look the way you're "supposed" to. But hey...all we can do is be the best we can be. Block out the bullshit and just soldier on. As for me, I'm happy I had the strength to save myself. Putting that knowledge up against the guilt helps. I'm alive! And I look pretty damn good. Tomorrow, I'll look even better!

My weight has been stabilized for well over a year now. It's higher than I'd like, but I have pretty much determined that I just need to come to terms with it and move on. My BMI is too high, but I firmly believe BMI charts are complete bullshit. Plus, I'm not one of those people who will track every single calorie, stop eating carbs and get up at 5am to go to my first of three spin classes a day. It's not happening. Maybe I'm just lazy, but I don't want to work that hard! I enjoy being active, though. And I no longer eat crap for crap's sake all the time. So if I can be healthy and active, then I'm good. I wanted to lose 10 pounds before this surgery, and I did that. But then I went to Ohio and because I wasn't a food/exercise Nazi, gained a few pounds back. Oh well. It seems like my body just wants to be at this weight. It is what it is! I was worried that my PS would ask me to lose weight before my surgery, but he said: "You are a big girl, very tall and sturdy (LOL), and you carry this weight very well. I am not going to require you to lose any weight. We will go ahead." Ok then! Good, because I'm done!

My surgery will take place at The Scarborough Hospital at 12:30pm; we have to be there at 10am. The surgery is supposed to take 4.5-5 hours. I will spend one night in the hospital and one night at a nearby hotel. My PS tells me I will have about 200 stitches and possibly a few staples. I will have drains in my abdomen for about 10 days; a home health care worker will come to the house to check on me after I go home. I'll be off work for 6 weeks. I work at a printing company in the art department but I don't sit at a desk all night. I am all over that plant doing several different things - I carry boxes of stock from the warehouse to the front, I load said stock into printers, etc. Sometimes I am working in four different rooms at once. It's a night shift thing. They have about a half dozen of us doing what 15-20 people do during the day. My job requires such activity that I've said many times I would not have been able to perform my duties at my former weight. So, since I can't lift or bend for a while, my PS recommends 6 weeks of leave. I'm kind of hoping I can get back before that, just to have the full paycheck!

Here we go! Yet another life change. I'm looking forward to it, but I'm nervous as well. Send good vibes for good drugs and a speedy recovery! I'll update when I can. Thanks to everyone who has followed me on this journey so far. We ain't done yet!

Good enough

A friend of mine shared the following image on Facebook a few days ago and it's resonated with me ever since:



First of all, can we all agree on the Melissa McCarthy love? She is so awesome. I love her to death. And in this instance, she is totally spot on.

So many of us who go through dramatic weight loss think we'll be pleased when we get to the "end" of our journeys. We think if we can just lose the weight, we will finally accept the person staring back at us from the mirror. Of course, that's not always the case. We do look and feel better, but I know I speak for myself and others when I say some of us go, "Is that it? Is this what I looked like underneath all that? Really?" So we pick. And piss. And moan.

"My stomach is horrible."
"I would kill for your thighs."
"I need $100,000 worth of plastics!"
"God, my bones stick out now! They hurt!"
"How did that woman lose more weight than me and look that good and I look like a freak??"
"Oh no....I don't look great. I still have 10 more pounds to lose."
"Now my nose is too big for my face."
"Where did these knobby knees come from??"
"I have a small bump one millimeter from my left big toenail that's bothering me. Maybe I need more plastics."

I could go on and on, but you get the drift.

The point is, after losing weight, we transform from fat chicks bitching about our weight to normal-weight chicks bitching about....everything. "Normal" women are notorious for complaining about their image and swatting away compliments like flies. We are no different.

When is good enough, good enough? As Melissa points out, where does it end?

I'm guilty of this myself! I've written in this very blog about some of the statements I'm listing here. Do I think I look better after losing 250 pounds? Yes. Do I think I look good? Not really. And I'm starting to worry that I'm putting too much pressure on this tummy tuck. I will not look perfect when it's done, in much the same way that the gastric bypass didn't make my life perfect, either. NO ONE looks perfect, and even if WE think someone does, trust me - that person can tell you about his or her 100 physical flaws they themselves see.

Until we focus on the inside, the outside will never measure up. I'm not talking about 25 pounds of excess skin. That's a legitimate health concern in some cases and should be dealt with however the individual sees fit. Some people are fine with it. More power to 'em! But for the most part, we have to come to terms with our own imperfections and embrace them as part of our unique self! Yeah, I know...what a bunch of hokey self-help crap. Well, not really. It is true, but very difficult to execute in the real world. Some of us may never get there. All we can do is try.

I will if you will!

This is a test. This is not a test.

Ok, are you ready?

In my last post, I talked about how we sent my PS the check for my tummy tuck via Purolator on July 2 since the PS's assistant was having a fit and insisted they needed the money right away. After we got back to the house, I called the office and told her the money had been sent per her instructions. I had an appointment to see the PS and do my pre-op testing on July 4, but she told me when I called - after I'd already sent the money - that the PS would be out of town on a family emergency and would have to re-schedule my appointment for the 11th. Ok, no problem. No mention of the entire office being closed on Thursday and Friday.

Erich told me the money wasn't coming out of the account, so I tracked the package on Tuesday the 9th. Apparently, Purolator tried repeatedly to deliver the checks but there was no one in the office.

Can you say furious?

There were repeated messages in the tracking information about "attempted delivery/address invalid or incomplete" along with normal-looking entries about attempted deliveries and no one being in the office. I called Purolator immediately, because the address is perfect on my shipping receipt. The woman I spoke with said to ignore the incomplete address errors and they would attempt delivery once more, on Wednesday the 10th, and I should call to make sure someone would be there. If they couldn't complete delivery on Wednesday the 10th, the package would be sent back to me.

So I called (Tuesday the 9th).

Did I mention the PS's assistant (PSA) is pretty much psycho? I did? Ok then.

Oh...she left at noon on Wednesday the 3rd and the whole office was shut down Thursday and Friday. And furthermore...she "told me the office would be closed". OMG........I kinda lost it. A little bit. I couldn't help it. SHE was the one insisting I send the money via Purolator (which cost me almost $20) then she LEFT THE OFFICE?? I told her at the time she would receive it on Wednesday the 3rd...and SHE LEFT AT NOON??? Then shut down for two days? Are you kidding me? And she didn't tell me the doctor was leaving until AFTER I'd already sent the money! She was really trying to pin this on me. She assured me she would be in the office all day Wednesday the 10th to receive the package.

I figured I'd ask her if they received my blood work and ECG I had done here in town on June 28. No. OMG.....ok. So I called the local lab. They don't give out results and gave me a 1-800 number that the doctor's office would need to call and have the tests sent again. So I call PSA back and give her the number.

The next day (the 10th), I was getting ready to call her again to see if she'd received the check when the phone rang. It was almost 2:30pm. She hadn't received the check yet and "you said it would be here by 10:30 and it's not here yet".

What I wanted to say was: "Are you on drugs or what?"

But instead, I assured her I told her no such thing, that I had NO idea when it would be delivered, only during business hours. I asked her if she'd received my tests yet. Silence.

"You know," I said, "remember, I gave you the 1-800 number yesterday to call about my tests?....." Oh...she had "other patients" and hadn't called yet. I am really deep breathing at this point. I mean, my appointment was at 10:30am (which is maybe where she got that delivery time...I dunno) the next day. No payment and no tests.

"Is there any point in me coming to see him tomorrow at all?" I asked. She said yes, that we needed to "get going" (yes indeed WE did) and assured me she would have all the tests for him to look over by the morning. Ok. I told her I'd also bring the checkbook, and if for some reason she didn't have the Purolator package by then, I'd write her another check.

I leave for work with a raging headache and slight homicidal tendencies.

My appointment the next day was fairly uneventful, but looonnng. The check never came, so I wrote her a new one. More on that later, in another entry.

I was at that hospital from 10:15am until almost 3pm. I didn't really know what to expect at all. I asked the PSA on the phone what the pre-op testing would entail, and she wasn't very specific. Bloodwork, ECG....but I already had that done. So I arrived with my proverbial thumbs up my ass. Which would come in handy, given that one of the tests involved me swabbing my own rectum for some sort of bacteria-resistant virus they wanted to make sure I didn't have. Oh yes. A joy.

While I was still in the PS's waiting room, the PSA handed me a packet with a bunch of forms to fill out. Now, you are supposed to get this packet, take it home and fill everything out, then bring it back to the hospital. I understand things were happening so quickly in my case that it wasn't possible for it to work out that way. However....again, I think the PSA should've told me - especially when I specifically ASKED her - what sorts of things I'd need to fill out these forms. I had most of the information on me, but some I didn't. I guess the most important thing I didn't have were my supplements in the original bottles. Didn't know I needed it, didn't think about it. So....I had to sit in the pharmacist's office while she Googled everything I was telling her and had me identify the exact brand/dosage of all the many vitamins I take every day. Again...a joy.

I saw the PS, which was routine, then the PSA led me down to the basement and the pre-op testing area. I would need to speak to a second doctor, a pharmacist, an anesthesiologist and a nurse. They all said I was fit as a fiddle, ready for major surgery.

The doctor questioned my assertion that I had "diet-controlled diabetes," which is what my family doctor calls it. "You don't have diabetes," he said. "Your sugar is perfect." I got the feeling he thought the adage of 'once you have diabetes, you have it forever' was old-fashioned. My blood pressure was elevated in the nurse's office (no surprise given how pissed off I still was, and anxious because I was certain now that I'd be late for work) and is often slightly high when checked at my family doctor's office. This pre-op doctor said "No, what you need is a bigger cuff. If the cuff isn't right, you will get a falsely high BP." Hmm...I knew I needed a big cuff pre-op, but thought I was ok now. He said no (there's a lot of extra skin on my arms). He took my BP again with a bigger cuff and it was normal. I'll have to remember that!

So it's all done (again). I am to be at the hospital at 10am on August 12, the surgery is 12:30. Shit just got real.

Want a final psycho-PSA story? Ok. She takes me downstairs to the pre-op testing area and has me sit in a chair, telling me they will call me when they're ready for me. So I sit. And sit. Finally, a staffer comes over and asks me why I'm there. I tell her and she checks the system....I am nowhere to be found. Not me, not my surgery, nothing.

"Who is your surgery with?" I tell her. "Oh," she says, "well...that's (PSA's name) for you."
I smile. "Yes. It sure is!
"You know (PSA's name)?"
"I sure do!"
She laughed. "Well, then we both know!"

And we both laugh. Because it's either you laugh or you cry, right? I think I feel sorrier for those poor people who have to deal with her every day. Eventually, I won't have to see her again!

Four years on, the plastics begin

Today is what I like to call my rebirth-day, or, as it's known in the weight-loss surgery community, my "surgiversary." Four years ago today, I had RNY gastric bypass surgery and my life has never been the same. I won't bore you with all the details of how much better I feel now, how I can do things I never thought possible. It's all true, but I would just be repeating myself! It never gets old, though, this thing called LIFE. It's more than I ever thought it could be. To date, I have had ZERO complications, only freedom...from pain, illness and the bonds of my own body. And I wouldn't change a thing except that I wasted so much time.

A before and after (click to enlarge):


For those who are interested - you can go back and check out where my brain was 4 years ago here and here.

In my last entry, I mentioned that I got my tummy tuck surgery date (August 12) and I had an appointment to see my plastic surgeon (PS) on July 4th. That appointment got moved to July 11, so I'll likely do another update afterwards.

I heard about this surgeon from my bariatric support group. A lot of fellow patients have been to him - indeed, his assistant said about 85% of his patients are of the bariatric variety. I like him very much but his assistant...lorda mercy. Honestly, speaking to her is a chore. And even sitting in the waiting room, listening to her talk to other patients, tries MY patience. I don't tolerate stupidity and rudeness very well. I think I've mentioned this before - she needs another profession.

The whole plastics experience has been a whirlwind since April, my first visit to his office. At that time, I was given a quote for his services, far above what I knew some of my friends to have paid. This was surprising, but prices go up so...whatever. I soon got approval from OHIP for my panniculectomy and we went from there. The coverage for the panniculectomy is minimal; I still have to pay thousands of dollars for the "upgrade" to a full tummy tuck (tightening and repair of the abdominal muscles and removal of more tissue and skin). I went back to see him last month and was informed the procedure had gone up another $1,000. Not only that, this new quote was only good for 6 weeks. If I didn't pay this new, inflated price right away, the price could go up again....and again... I had no idea when the surgery would be, so I had two choices: Pay right now or wait and take my chances the price could go up thousands of dollars by the time I got a surgery date. Oh...and we had to pay in full two months before the surgery date...whenever that would be.

I burst into tears in the parking garage. Erich and I had been putting money aside for this, but $1,000 was a lot of money. Plus, I had tremendous feelings of guilt. There was so much more we could do with this money. Many other things needed our attention and I felt bad enough about spending thousands of dollars on a tummy tuck. Yes, I needed it, for medical, cosmetic and mostly psychological reasons. But still. If I hadn't allowed myself to reach nearly 500 pounds in the first place, none of this would be necessary. I feel a LOT of self-loathing and guilt about that.

My husband would hear none of this. "I'll handle it," is all he kept telling me as I cried and battled a near-nonstop headache for the rest of the week. My first thought was to sell the Camaro he bought for me when I lost half my body weight. He said "NO. Absolutely not." Alrighty then! He was adamant that I have the surgery ASAP and he would find a way to pay for it.

The surgery costs $5500 (starting out at $4500 and going up $1000). And we didn't have it all. Not yet.

You might ask me why I didn't try another surgeon. Well, this PS is very well known in the weight-loss community as being extremely affordable and willing to work with OHIP coverage. I had a nightmare experience with a PS a couple years ago that I detailed here. That PS wanted more than twice this amount to do the same surgery. I'd also heard price horror stories about other surgeons. So while we were presently scraping together cash, it wouldn't be as much as other prices I'd heard about.

I'd told the PS assistant to look to October when she asked me when I wanted to have the surgery. She also asked me how much notice I'd need for a date. I told her two weeks. I have a fairly new job and wanted to give my employer some notice. I knew we still needed to scrape together the money but I was really worried and upset. To keep the cost down, we would need to pay in full by July 30 or, like I said, risk the ever-escalating price. I compared it to a kitten chasing a ball of yarn the just kept unraveling and the kitten never catching up. If we didn't pay soon, we'd just keep chasing the higher price.

Soon, she called and asked me if August 12 would be acceptable. I was floored, flabbergasted. I'd originally thought this wouldn't happen until after the new year. Of course, this new date would mean we'd need to pay NOW. In fact, she wanted me to courier a check that same day! Um, no. No can do. This was on a Friday afternoon; Monday was Canada Day. I told her we would have to make arrangements to get the money together and send it to her on Tuesday. She was pretty upset by this and put me on hold (needs a new job). But when she came back on, she agreed.

Again, I was very upset about the money aspect. Erich again told me, "I'll have it by Tuesday. Don't worry." He doesn't like to discuss things with me because he just wants to take care of it, but it sometimes just makes me worry even more. In his mind, keeping the details from me protects me. Sometimes that's true, but in this instance it just made me crazy. LOL! Eventually, we got the money together and sent it in via Purolator. It made me physically ill. Excited, nervous, guilty, scared, you name it.

So it's done. Paid for in full and scheduled. During my last appointment, I asked the PS how much skin and tissue he thought he would be taking off. The PS in London told me maybe 3-5 pounds. That seemed an impossibly low number and made me even more dubious of her at the time. Well, the new PS said "At least 6 kilos...about 14 pounds." I literally could not speak. While I knew I had a lot of excess skin to get rid of, I didn't think it was that much. Maybe he's over-estimating. I'm trying not to get my hopes up, I really am. He also assured me this surgery will be "life-changing"....again? *deep breath* Ok. Strapping in for another life change. Erich jokes that this will be his 4th wife: He was married before me then to the pre-op me, the post-op me, and now the tummy tuck me. LOL!

I've had this stomach for so long, I don't know what it's like to be normal. Ever since I can remember, I've shopped for shirts long enough to cover it and loose enough to hide it. Ever since I can remember, I've had to lift it up in the shower and wear baby powder to help keep the rashes at bay. It's actually worse since I've lost weight and it's like an empty bag. I've taken to wearing a "looser, everyday" Spanx just to keep it from moving around and causing chafing. But even "super-Spanx" doesn't make it disappear. I know I'll never feel truly successful until I get it off me. And I can't wait to see how this affects me, both physically and emotionally.

Busy, busy, busy!

Since working afternoon shift, I don't seem to have time to do much. It's all I can manage to get up at a reasonable hour and run errands, go to the gym, clean the house, do laundry, etc. I need to do all these things BEFORE I go to work because while I am a bit of a night owl, I'm not much in the mood to run around all over the place at 1 a.m. So this blog has been very neglected. When I logged in just now, I couldn't believe it had been APRIL since I last submitted an entry. Wow.

Well....a lot has happened since then! I have been extremely busy and things are happening fast and furious. Here's a "quick" rundown. As always, click on the thumbnails for the full photos.

May:
I took my Canadian citizenship test. They only give you about a week's notice! I studied a lot and felt pretty good about the outcome. The day after the test, I participated in a local Run-A-Lung 5K event to raise awareness and funds for organ donation in Ontario. A young girl named Kayla Baker gained local fame through her efforts for this cause - she herself needed a double lung transplant. She had been scheduled to be at the event, but received a single lung unexpectedly a few weeks beforehand. She was there via Skype, and the community really came together for her. I was still not 100% recovered from the 5K RUN, so I opted to walk it. As I mentioned before, I don't think I'll be doing any more running. Too hard on my body.


In my previous blog about my initial visit to Dr. Nan's office, I mentioned that he'd told me to call back in 4 weeks. So...I did that. His assistant (NOT a people person; she has the wrong job) got pretty irate with me and said it takes her 4 weeks to submit paperwork to OHIP, then another 6-8 weeks to hear back. I was like WTF?? Seriously. WTF? I was pretty upset about this, but tried to brush it off. All I could do was wait.

Erich and I celebrated our 12th anniversary in Toronto. We went to the CN Tower - Erich, who has lived here for 30 years, had never been up to the top - and had dinner at Medieval Times. What a wonderful day. When I do a lot of walking, I am still so grateful that I can! I don't think I'll ever forget how far I've come and take movement for granted. It's such a wonderful thing to be able to live your life. It truly is a gift. It had been about 11 years since I'd been to the tower, and at that time, I refused to step on the glass floor. I was always afraid things would break away with me...and they wanted me to step on a glass floor?? Were they nuts?? But this time I did it.


June:
The very next weekend, we set out for Niagara Falls and the Women's Half Marathon (21.1K). Yes, that's right. I did it!! I mentioned it briefly back in March, but I signed up in February. When I posted about the race on my bariatric surgery support group's Facebook page, it sort of took on a life of its own and several of us signed up to do it together. Some people dropped out over time for one reason or another, but a few of us really went down there and gave it hell! Of course we all walked it. Again...no running for me.

I was not able to train properly for this race because I was still battling physical pain from the run I did in March. My knees and back were taking me back to my 450-pound days with the way they were bothering me. I was at the chiropractor several times and went through an entire bottle of Tylenol Arthritis. I was actually a little worried - why wasn't I bouncing back? And I had a half marathon to train for!! So I was very nervous about the event. Plus, due to some noisy neighbors at our hotel, I only got about 3 hours of sleep the night before.

For the first 10-12K, it was fairly easy. I was trotting along, music pounding in my ears. There were people cheering us on all along the course. Very nice. When I got to about 18K, I hit a wall. I got dizzy and my stomach felt very upset. There were medical personnel watching us and all I could think was "There is no way I've walked 18K to wimp out and be taken out of the race. Straighten the hell up and FINISH." I talked myself off that wall and kept going. It wasn't easy and I slowed down quite a bit, but I finished well under the 4-hour time limit. When I saw Erich at the finish line - and a row of firemen, who were on hand to give us our medals - it was all worth it. I swear, there is a high that comes with crossing a finish line unlike anything. It's so fantastic and yes, very addictive. Granted, I've never taken any drug in my life, ever, but this is pretty damn cool.

I had another first right afterwards. Massage students were there providing free massages to participants. I decided to take advantage and waited in line. The tables looked pretty flimsy to me, as they always had and why I'd never entertained getting a massage when I was so obese. Again, there's the notion that I will break anything I sit/stand/lie on. Plus, I would've been very self conscious having someone put his or her hands on me. I would think THEY would think, "UGH...I have to touch this disgusting person??" But I tried to push past that because I knew my body would benefit from the massage. I climbed on the table carefully and it didn't break. The tiny little student went to work on me and I didn't die of embarrassment. At least, not until my husband mentioned how my excess skin & flab was jiggling around all over the place as she manipulated me. Thanks, hon!! I so appreciate that. Sometimes he doesn't think. Ah well. I'm sure the massage helped; I was surprised by how UNsore I was. I had been pretty sure I was going to have to call in sick to work the next day, but nope. I was fine. One small blister and a bit of soreness in my shoulders, of all things. Some of us have already signed up for next year's race.


I found out I passed the citizenship test and took my oath of citizenship on June 10! I am officially a dual citizen now. NO, I didn't have to give up my U.S. citizenship. I've had about 1,000 people ask me that. LOL! The night before the ceremony, I found a red dress and wore that with two pairs of Spanx so I'd look somewhat normal. Kinda crazy to think this is what I might look like post-tummy tuck. You can see in the third photo from the half marathon (minus Spanx) how desperately it's needed.


And...the next weekend, we were off to London for the annual Father's Day 5K for Prostate Cancer Canada. My father is a survivor, so I do this one for him each year. It's not the most organized race, but I'll do it because it's an important cause.


And...the next weekend (LOL), we traveled to Ohio for my 25th high school reunion. I have a lot of my old classmates on Facebook and was looking forward to connecting with them in person. Well....most of them didn't show, which was disappointing. However, I did have fun talking with those who did. It was a good weekend all around.


That first photo is important for the following reason...and since I've told her the story, I'll now "out" her and remind you all of a blog I posted a while back about my experiences with bullying. The woman in the photo with me is named Rana, and Rana was the little girl who took up for me in 6th grade science class when a bully tried to cut me down to size. When I told her this story at the reunion, she of course didn't remember it but was so pleased I shared it with her and gave me a big hug. She has been one of my cheerleaders on Facebook and I know she is so happy for me now. The irony of her career as a personal trainer speaks to the kind-hearted person she was and is - she wants to help people. It's her nature.

I have a lot more to tell you! My tummy tuck surgery has been schedule for...wait for it...AUGUST 12!! I am excited beyond belief but pretty nervous. How that date came about is a blog all by itself so I'll save that story for after July 4th, which is when I go see Dr. Nan again and start my pre-op testing. So I'll talk to you soon!!

Joining the Flat Belly Society

A few days ago, I saw a plastic surgeon in Toronto to see if I can finally move on a little from the brain-numbing excess skin situation.

I've written extensively and openly about my issues with my excess skin. It bothers me in a way I wasn't really expecting. I knew it would be there, of course, but the way it messes with my brain was surprising. Not everyone is affected this way. There are some who say "Screw it," and live with it. But as for me, I find it very difficult to literally carry around flesh-and-blood reminders of what I did to my body and why I'll never look normal through my own efforts. It is my fault and no matter how much I work out or what I do, they are there. Like Guilt Tumors or something. I struggle with that. And in that struggle, I sometimes seek comfort in my old friend, food. This, and the stress I endured last year over my employment situation, definitely caused me to regain some of the weight I initially lost. It's coming back off slowly. I hope the good news I received on Wednesday will help me get my head straight and continue on my current path.

I've turned into one of those women constantly saying "If I could only lose 15 pounds..." Well, I might think it; I'd never say it in certain company. I used to hate those women, bitching about 15 pounds when I had over 250 to lose! And they are not even remotely similar situations, so please don't bitch about 15 pounds in the presence of a 500-pound person. You might get punched in the neck. I know I held myself back several times...

I had a really bad experience a couple of years ago with a plastic surgeon (PS) in London. She came recommended by a friend who had bariatric surgery and had her panniculectomy covered by the Ontario Health Insurance Plan (OHIP), through this surgeon. It was a nightmare and kinda put me off seeing another PS. When I asked my family doctor for another referral, her first response was "But you already saw one and they said the panniculectomy wouldn't be covered." I had to talk her into giving me another referral. Nothing is easy, right?

But through some friends I've made in my support group, I heard about a new PS in east Toronto - actually, Scarborough. Everyone has been so sure he would work with me, so sure that I should get the panniculectomy covered, that I decided to give it another shot.

So on Wednesday, I set out to drive to Scarborough - by myself. In the rain. This is already a laughable situation, as I loathe driving in big cities and can't see my hand in front of my face when driving in the rain. Erich taking the evening off work to accompany me wasn't really an option; that would mean losing a lot of money in overtime because of the way his company calculates hours. And, well, the tummy tuck "upgrade" I want ain't gonna pay for itself.

The drive wasn't too bad, save the accident I nearly got into at an intersection 5 miles from my destination when two cars in front of me wrecked (thank you, Good Brakes) - but as I sat in the waiting room, I listened to another patient speaking to the PS's assistant. They were having a "discussion" about pricing. This woman was also a bariatric patient looking to have a tummy tuck upgrade after an OHIP-approved panniculectomy. As I listened to this exchange, I got more and more nervous. Erich and I don't have a lot of money. We get by, but don't have large amounts of cash sitting in the bank. My husband has been working his fingers to the bone, accepting overtime whenever it is offered in order to sock away some money to get me as much surgery as possible. I need *A LOT* of skin removal, but the panniculectomy and tummy tuck upgrade are foremost on my mind. Listening to these people argue over price and money made me uneasy because the figures his assistant was tossing around weren't the ones I had in mind. I started feeling a little sick.

My nervousness quickly subsided when I got in to see the PS, though. I really liked him. We talked about my weight loss a bit and he took some measurements. According to him, there was "no way" I wouldn't be approved by OHIP for the panniculectomy. He seemed very certain of this. It should be noted that 90% of his patients are folks like me, bariatric patients. So I trust his judgement. This was a great relief! I told him about my earlier experience in London and he was genuinely puzzled by that surgeon's lack of empathy, her unwillingness to submit paperwork on my behalf, to even try for me. "If you don't get approved, I will go and beat them up," he joked in his slightly accented English. Again...great relief. We also talked about other surgeries I need, like an inner thigh lift, a boob lift, removal of the "batwings" under my arms. I didn't ask him about the skin under my chin, which surprised Erich because I'm always bitching about my turkey neck. But all in all, the experience was night-and-day different from the one in London. He was so reassuring:

Me: "So it takes 6-8 weeks for OHIP approval, right?"
PS: "Call me in four."
Me: "Ok, great! Do you think we can do this by the end of the year?" (He's a very busy man, for obvious reasons.)
PS: "Yes, sure."

The type of tummy tuck he recommends is called a fleur de lis, sometimes referred to as an "extended panniculectomy" which is the most common for patients who go through massive weight loss. You can click on the link for more info on that, as it explains things better than I can.

The only thing that left me cold were the prices of the "upgrade" surgeries. I can get the tummy tuck upgrade but that's it. I was hoping for either the boob lift or batwing surgery to go along with it, but no. He has significantly raised his prices since my friends had their surgeries done just a couple of years ago. That's disheartening but hey...that's my luck! If I'd gone to see him in 2010 instead of the PS I saw in London, I would've gotten a much better deal. However, his prices are still significantly lower than the London PS; he will charge me less than half the price she would've.

But....I WILL GET THIS TUMMY TUCK!! That is so fantastic to me, I can't even tell you. It will be life changing for me in much the same way that actually losing the weight was. I can't wait to have it and start the next chapter in this never-ending journey.

Me with a flat stomach? That is mind blowing...

Finish lines

So I did it - last month, I completed by first running 5K. Now, will I do it again? Probably not.

It was bitterly cold that day and since it was an inaugural race, pretty poorly organized. Some runners, myself included, got a little turned around on the badly marked course. I estimate that it affected my time by 2-3 minutes. Aggravating, to say the least.

The day before the event, I went to a runners' specialty store and bought some cold-weather clothing. Lemme tell you something...if you're not already fit, then I guess walking/running isn't for you because you won't be able to find clothing in these stores. They had nothing for women above a size large, and an x-large for men. Cindy needs a women's x-large (and because these items are so tight and my desperate need for a tummy tuck, I'd prefer a 2X). I was like "Are you kidding me?" Honest to god...way to make someone feel like a rhinoceros. Is my horn showing? But, I needed this stuff as the forecast was for wind chills below zero. Plus, I had a WagJag coupon to use so I decided to try on the men's XL, and it was suitable. Not only is the stuff size-stupid, but you should probably have a damn good job to be a serious runner/walker. I got a jacket off the clearance rack and a long-sleeved shirt. $75...and this was AFTER I used my $50 WagJag. Right. I looked pretty spiffy, though!



But they worked, because I wasn't really cold the next day. I lined up and took off, bringing up the rear immediately. No matter. I kept on. There were supposed to be walkers, but by god I never saw any until the end of the race, when some of them caught up with me. LOL! An older couple directed me back onto the course and I managed to finish ahead of them, as well as most (if not all) of the walkers. Dead last of the runners, though.

I have a tendency to run toward Erich at the finish line. If I see him, I go to him - not the finish line. I've done this several times now. Last June, at the Father's Day 5K in London, he had to tell me to go one more lap around the track. I saw him and thought I was done, I guess! And at the Minds in Motion 10K last fall, I almost went right past the guy handing out the medals at the finish line because I was focused on my husband. How weird is that? Well, I did it again this time. I had to swerve away from him to cross the finish line because I went right for him. Then the girl recording everyone's time on their bibs had to come and turn me around. LOL! My first words to Erich were "I beat the old people!" Then I was horrified that I screamed it, because I had loud music going in my ears. GAH.



According to their time, I finished in 46:18. A pitiful time but at least I finished. Oh, and they completely screwed up my name. Check it out...Uncle Albert?


I had my Couch-2-5K program running during the race and it clocked me at just over 40 minutes. I dunno. Again, whatever. I finished! Twice! Because on the Wednesday before the race, I ran a 5K on the treadmill at the gym, just to see if I could. Now, this was probably a mistake...which takes me back to my first paragraph and why I won't be running anymore. At least, I don't think so.

My left knee is a bitch. Both of them are shot, but the left one is worse. I wore braces on both knees all during training and on race day, but I was mainlining Tylenol Arthritis for a good 10 days afterwards. The pain was so chronic that I was thinking for a while I might need to go see my doctor about it, worrying that it wasn't getting much better. But eventually it did subside and seems to be ok now. However, I did do the damn 5K twice in four days. Probably not very smart.

Every time I achieve something new, I want to go farther. It's like I need to keep proving to myself that this is really me, I can really do these things; the weight is gone. I don't know if I'll get over that. Also, when I know I have a race coming up, I train - a.k.a., move my ass. If there's no event coming up then I'm likely to stay on the sofa watching Dr. Phil. "So how's that workin' for ya?" Yeah, not too great. I still would like to lose another 15 pounds or so. That's my sweet spot and a weight I can maintain if I'm smart about it and not go off the rails like I did last year. I'm on it. It'll come off.

Last Monday, the Boston Marathon Bombings affected people around the world, of course, but I think especially those of us who regularly compete in races. I'm doing a (walking) half marathon in Niagara Falls in June, and one of the girls posted in our group, wondering aloud if anyone was bothered by the fact that we'll be in a similar situation very soon...lining up, ready to do something we've always wanted to do...to prove we CAN do it...and working to cross that finish line and greet our loved ones. My local running club sent out invites to "Run for Boston" at a special event last Wednesday evening.

I'll tell you this: Erich has waited for me at every finish line, at every event I've ever participated in. To think that people like him...who just wanted to see their loved ones achieve a lofty goal, cheering them on with love and support, waiting to snap that victory picture...were targeted with such hate is very difficult. For me, I wait to see my husband's smiling face behind a camera lens at the finish line. It's part of what I train for, to see the look of pride in his eyes and the "Good job, baby," in my ear when I'm done. And of course, when you are in a race, the last thing you are thinking about is death and chaos waiting for you at the finish line. You're thinking about achievement, support and love. It's a scary thing and will probably change how people think at these events for a long time to come, if not forever.

But we'll still run or walk...crawl if we have to. For Boston, for us, for freedoms that no coward with a pressure-cooker bomb can take away. Screw 'em. Let's go!

Born to run?

All the Bruce Springsteen fans landing here via some Google alert...sorry. You can click out now.

In some sort of misguided and arrogant flash of confidence, I signed up to *jog* (not walk) a 5K event on March 23. I loaded the app Couch to 5K on my phone and got to work. I have often written of my desire to run. I equate it with a certain level of fitness, leftover trauma from elementary school gym classes where the thinner, more beautiful people literally ran circles around the fat girl vainly attempting to keep up with them.

Couch to 5K is a nine-week program and I must admit, I thought it would be easier than it is. I consider myself to be in fairly decent shape but....this is kicking my ass. In the end, I suppose the goal is to have participants running a 5K in 30 minutes. Let me tell you, this is not going to happen! I can run for 25 minutes. I can probably run for 30 minutes (not there in the training yet). But not 5K (3.1 miles) in that length of time. Probably the most disappointing part of this whole training process is finding that my running is not much faster than my walking. While I expend a lot more energy "running", I don't get much farther than if I'd just walked. By now, I can walk pretty damn fast. Jogging is a knee and cardio killer. The point will not be whether or not I can job for 30 minutes, but whether I can do it for 35 or 40 minutes because I'm so damn slow.

So I'm sort of left feeling like the fat girl in gym class again. Yay. Nine weeks isn't going to cut it for me; I need more time. I don't think I'll be ready for the race March 23. That really disappoints me but it is what it is. I'll still try like hell - because I am stronger than I think I am - so we'll see.

I have more 5Ks scheduled for May, June and October, along with a walking half marathon in June. So I'm not done yet. Things just may be delayed for a while.

I have an appointment this morning with my family doctor. Feeling a bit off kilter lately, I will request that she order some blood work, especially iron and bone density. I am exhausted, foggy-minded and of low libido. All signs of iron deficiency. Also, I will finally ask for a referral to go see the Wizard of Oz, a.k.a. Dr. Nan - a plastic surgeon working out of Scarborough General Hospital. He has done plastics for many of my fellow WLS patients and they all seem to love him. He knows how to work with us and the system. I've been afraid he will tell me I need to lose more weight - especially since I'm about 20 pounds over my goal weight at this point.

Last year sucked. Since I wrote about it extensively, I won't go back into it here. The events did a number on me and I backslid. There are no excuses, although I have many. I'm getting back on track with my eating and exercise and it's slowly coming back off. My new job is helping; the fucking vending machines calling my name every night are not. I work 2nd shift and am alone in the front office with a multitude of treats that I have to pass by over and over again in the course of doing my job. More often than not, I am able to ignore them but there are times when, well, the Snickers or Kit Kat bar wins. I'm human, right? It's a work in progress.

But back to Dr. Nan....this excess skin is messing with my head and, I believe, plays a part in my backslide. I don't like what I see in the mirror. At all. There are times when I think to myself "Why am I bothering when I still look like complete shit?" I know what you're thinking but honest to god, if you haven't been here, you don't get it. You don't know what it's like to lose over 200 pounds and be reminded every day of what you did to yourself. The guilt and self-loathing that comes along with that is palpable and can be more front and center than when I weighed 444 pounds. I think if I am to truly find success, I need to start the plastics journey if I can. OHIP will likely pay for some of it; I certainly can't pay for ANY of it. So I guess I just need to try and get what I can get and be done with it. Better than nothing.

Online forums: *shrug*

In the interest of full disclosure, I'm a big believer in the Internet. My presence is very visible in this blog, on Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn - not much into Pinterest as of yet. I need some form of 3D life. And of course, as I've spoken of many times, my immersion in Bo Bice's fan club/community has been life altering. Used correctly and responsibly, online communities bring like-minded people together and make them feel supported and understood. My wide circle of friends and family are all over the globe and I'm so grateful to social media for helping me stay in touch at the click of a mouse.

So it may seem odd that I am a late bloomer when it comes to online support systems meant for bariatric patients.

Henry Ford Hospital gives each of their bariatric patients a Big Blue Binder full of answers to just about any question you could think of and I studied it carefully. Maybe I felt that was enough? I joined a Yahoo group for Henry Ford patients but wasn't a huge presence there. Through it, I learned of an in-person support group nearby and went to one meeting a few weeks after my surgery in July, 2009. There were two other people and it was kind of...empty and strange. While one person present educated me about an online message board called Obesity Help (OH) and pointed me in the direction of a fantastic blog called The World According to Eggface, I didn't go back.

I created an account at OH but again...didn't post much. I can't remember if I ever posted at all. There was some support there and good information, but everyone seemed to already know each other and I didn't know where to start. There also seemed to be a fair amount of cattiness, judgment, cliques and "inside jokes" (which I hate). So I just concentrated on this blog and my Big Blue Binder.

Through Facebook, I found Melting Mama and her Bariatric Bad Girls Club (BBGC). Or rather, she found me (thanks, Beth) when she requested my friendship after reading my brusque (hey, I gotta be me) response to a post from a so-called "leader" in the bariatric community. That person is now finished and most of us couldn't be happier. Through BBGC, I found the Community of Bariatric Patients of Southern Ontario and the Cambridge Coffee Crew (CCC...are you keeping up with the acronyms?), the wonderful bunch of women I am proud to call my sisters following this twisted path of health. I went to my first meeting in June of last year, a week before my 3rd "surgiversary" or what I like to call my Rebirth-day.

I was surprised to find people at CCC and BBGC who were months pre-op. Some haven't even got their surgery date scheduled yet. Looking back, I wonder how different my journey would've been if I'd had this support system. Luckily, success came to me despite it. My cheerleaders have been all of you, as well as a wonderful system of family and friends. But it's true I had no one who had actually gone through this and knew what I was thinking and feeling. Support is so very important and you can never have too much.

So I am envious of these people in some ways. Not so much in others. I still don't participate/post much in online forums because I still find so much judgement there. You know what they say about opinions, right? It doesn't matter what you're doing, someone will tell you it's wrong or you're not doing it as well as they are. Most of the time it's in a passive-aggressive way, sometimes it shows outright hostility. Then someone chimes in with what should be the Bariatric Life Principal, "we are all different", trying to calm things down. I dunno, it's tiring to me and I don't have time for the drama. If someone wants to eat a certain thing or take a certain brand of vitamins, don't judge. You know what The Beatles say - let it be. Words of wisdom and all...

Bullshit is everywhere and I suppose it's our job to duck and cover when we deem it necessary. Some people love OH and the online bariatric community, and that's great. Whatever works for them. I'm pretty sensitive so maybe it's just me. But I will stick with my CCC girls - even though no group is perfect - and this blog, all of you. Add CCC, my amazing husband and the Big Blue Binder to the mix and I think this is going to be a very good year for success!

Let's finish it

Ah, the excess skin issue. It doesn't go away for those of us who have lost massive amounts of weight.

Recently, an articleappeared in an area newspaper about a woman who lost weight successfully with weight-loss surgery but felt she needed to have the excess skin removed from her abdomen to feel "done". And she believes OHIP (Ontario Health Insurance Plan) should pay for it.

I agree on both counts.

Ontario does cover a surgery called a panniculectomy under extenuating circumstances. "The pannus should hang below the level of the groin/pubis to qualify. In addition, the patient must have significant pain, chronic skin breakdown and recurrent infections and if the surgery is related to weight loss, the patient’s weight must be stable for at least six months." Ok. I get that.

I believe my excess skin keeps me from feeling like a success. I still have huge handfuls of skin around my stomach and it's really hard to feel like I've lost weight successfully sometimes. The reflection in the mirror is just "meh".

There are things that haven't changed for me, even though I've lost well over 200 pounds. I get in the shower and still have to lift up my stomach, make sure I get everything clean in the folds of flesh. This is reality, and it's no different than the way I showered when I was 444 pounds. Actually, there are MORE folds of flesh to worry about now, and my hanging stomach is heavier.

I still have to shop for longer tops to cover it up. It still hinders my intimate relationship with my husband. I have to buy a bigger size jean to get it over the stomach (stuffing it inside), then cinch a belt around my fairly small waist in order to be semi-comfortable....but I guess the bright side is at least I can wear jeans now!

I really do try to be one of those people who say "Screw the excess skin. I'm healthy now and that's what I focus on." But it's hard. It's a true psychological barrier I wasn't prepared for when I started to lose weight.

Not long ago, a "friend" told me "his wife said" if I'd lost weight "naturally", I wouldn't have excess skin. Thanks! While I know that statement is complete bullshit, it's just more guilt that I didn't do this the right way and the way I abused my body is something I chose and can't change.

Would I qualify for the panniculectomy? Probably. Friends who have been through the process tell me I would, without question. But I feel like I'm not small enough for it. I've gained a little bit over the past year and want to get that weight off before I try. That's all my fault, I realize that.

So the goal this year is to get that damn panniculectomy, at least. I think OHIP should pay for the full tummy tuck, but it is what it is. I need to get this skin off because it's starting to break me down psychologically, and is getting in the way of my maintenance. I can't let that happen.