Back up the mountain

It's time to get real.

By spending the last nine months sitting on my ass recovering from tummy tuck surgery, recurring sinus infections and a knee injury, I have found myself in a dreaded situation.

"Re-gain" is a term easily found on bariatric message boards and in support groups. Some people try their best to hide it, some ignore it, some justify it, some tackle it head on and get back to the basics of the program to lose it. Weight loss surgery will not make you thin forever; you have to eat well and exercise. There are NO long-term shortcuts.

I've been carrying around 10-15 "extra" pounds for a few years now, but my weight was stabilized so that was ok with me. No, it really was. A lot of times, people who experience massive weight loss will indeed gain a few pounds after reaching their goal weight - the term I've heard for this is "bounceback". Take Biggest Loser winner Rachel Frederickson, who recently made headlines for appearing shockingly thin on the show's finale. Rachel has since gained 20 pounds. I knew that would happen to her and I wasn't surprised at all when it did. When it happened to me - though I was by no means underweight when I reached my goal - I didn't let it worry me too much. Honestly, I thought I looked very drawn and a little strange at my goal weight. I have been ok with my weight for a long time.

But the past year has been tough. Not long before my tummy tuck, I started a new job working afternoon shift and that lifestyle change has been an adjustment. I don't cope well with change; it's an issue for me. And I have a terrible habit of sticking my head in the sand and procrastinating solving problems instead of, you know, actually solving them. Very Scarlett O'Hara: "I won't think about that now. I'll think about that tomorrow."

Do I sound like I'm making excuses? I guess I am. I'm also a defensive person. Basically, I'm a mess! But that has to change. *I* have to change.

The scale was going up. I could see that, I knew it. A few cycles of the trusty 5 Day Pouch Test definitely worked, but it doesn't work if you go right back to eating crap again. It's always been very clear to me that I need to exercise to maintain my weight because I'm not good at abstaining from every single food that's bad for me. I will eat pizza, I will have an occasional sliver of pie. And that's fine - moderation - but I must keep moving to even things out. And I haven't really been doing that for almost a year now. Can you say horribly out of shape?

So the scale was going up but I didn't see it yet. Not in the mirror, not in my clothes. "I'll think about that tomorrow." Well, baby, tomorrow is NOW. All of the sudden, my jeans got tighter. I didn't like pictures of myself anymore.

This past weekend, I participated in a race with a bunch of friends. We have an exercise group called Badbass Babes. We have our own logo, our own t-shirts. We're pretty badass! Professional photographers were along the route and when the photos came out, I couldn't believe the woman in those shots was me. There it was. RE-GAIN. I posted one of the photos a full THREE TIMES on Facebook and deleted it each time because I think I look so large in it.



I'm wearing a few layers, my legs & neck desperately need skin-removal plastics but...that's all me. I can't deny it anymore. About 30 pounds needs to come off. Face it, Scarlett.

Changes have already been made. I was starting to eat more often and badly - grabbing junk out of a vending machine or checkout line, bringing baked goods into the house, etc. Why was I doing that? Maybe to soothe myself because I physically felt so bad all the time. I'm not sure. But that's stopped already, even before I saw these pictures. However, I bought a few things over the weekend in the States that I justified by saying that I don't get to have them often. They're in the garbage now. It's over. I have to get serious about this again. I worked way too hard to get this weight off to allow it to creep back on.

It's so easy to get complacent and let old habits back in, especially as the years tick by. A crack addict can avoid crack. Crack addicts don't have to pass 10 fast-crack establishments on every street and crack isn't readily available in every store. Crack isn't advertised on tv and in magazines. People aren't smoking crack on every street corner. You can avoid friends who smoke crack; you never have to be around it again. This isn't the case with food. Moderation is a slippery slope. I did it for four years, though, and it worked for me. But it has to be a more EXTREME moderation, at least for now. I have been letting foods back into my diet with an ever-increasing laissez faire attitude. It's too dangerous.

I'm doing well in physiotherapy for my knees and seem to be back on track for regular exercise again. So it's time to get serious!

A good friend of mine has been posting in our support group about her re-gain and she may not realize how she has inspired me to come out about my own issues. I've been struggling with it for a few months now - whether to blog about it, how to say that I feel badly for letting this happen, for disappointing both myself and people who care about me. She has spurred me to be open about it. No journey is without speedbumps, miraculous hills as well as deep, dark valleys. No one is alone here. It's time to start climbing back up to the mountaintop. One step at a time, putting one foot in front of the other.

I'll take a knee (please)

At some point, we have to admit our humanity.

Since losing weight, I've done a lot of things I never thought I could. One that I enjoy most is participating in running/walking events. From my first 5K to the half marathon I completed last year, they are all exciting milestones in my mind. As a heavy child/teenager, I never participated in sports, so this whole thing of pushing my body towards a tangible finish line is new to me. People cheering for me, receiving a medal or ribbon at the end, the feeling of accomplishment - just the act of crossing a finish line - is a sort of addiction to me. I love it so much! And besides, the necessary training for these events keeps me in the gym and focused (most of the time!) on healthy habits.

I signed up for the half marathon right after I finished it last year, at a highly discounted price. Great! Of course I'll do it again! Then just a few weeks later I got the call to have my tummy tuck done. The recovery from the tummy tuck is looooonnnnggg. At least, mine has been. I haven't had any complications, but my whole torso is still...fragile. I'm now 8 months post-op and still have to be careful about how much I lift and exert myself. Honestly, I didn't do much at ALL for a few months. I started getting back into short walks in October, still wearing my abdominal binder. I even signed up for and completed a couple of events in the late fall, trying to get my mojo back. One 2.5K and one 5K. I wore TWO binders for both events and all went well. The knees were holding up, too.

By the time the Santa Shuffle 5K rolled around in early December, I had been pretty sick with what I thought was a cold for about a week. Just a day beforehand, I had a fever. But on race day, I was feeling a little better so decided to go. It was freezing and snowing out, and my nose was running like Niagara Falls (LOL) but I did well. My first trip to the doctor came a few days later. Sinus infection. First round of antibiotics, three-week supply. By Christmas, I was doing better (meaning no fever) and even though I was completely exhausted, I trudged through shopping, wrapping, dinner, etc. I had a few days of normalcy in early January, then got "sick" again. Waited about a week or so, went back to the doctor...sinus infection. More antibiotics. Didn't seem to help much, but I put off going back to the doctor. We're into February at this point. I had now been ill since November, pretty much all the time. No gym, no NOTHING. I was sitting on my ass folks, clutching a box of tissues and using a sinus rinse (which did NOTHING for me). We used so many tissues, Erich said we should buy stock in Puffs. I'd have a day where I would start to feel better and I'd think "Ok, I'll go to the gym tomorrow." Then I'd wake up feeling like a Mack truck ran over me in my sleep. OR...we'd get 12 inches of snow. This was shaping up to be one of the worst winters I'd ever had, both weather-wise and health-wise.

So I went back to the doctor in early February because I didn't want to be sick as a dog on my birthday on the 7th and we had a trip planned to Ohio on the 15th, for a week's stay with my parents. For the second year in a row, I did not make it home for Christmas. New job, and apparently people have to die before I get my turn in line to have Christmas off. So yeah. Doctor. Sinus infection again. Really?? More antibiotics. I took them for almost a week then came home from work one night and noticed I was getting what looked to be a rash on my neck. Hm. I showed it to Erich and had him take a photo of it. Having already planned to return to the doctor yet again the next morning since the antibiotics weren't working, I wanted to show this "rash" to him in case it cleared up while I slept. I took some Benadryl (couldn't hurt, right?) and went to bed.

Well. I woke up covered head to toe in little red dots.

When I got to the doctor's office, he looked at me and started muttering, "Oh no. Hm. Wow. Ok." He said I was having a reaction to the antibiotic and needed to go to the emergency room right away. I had a high fever, but wasn't having trouble breathing or anything. I went home, got Erich, called in sick to work and went to the ER. Long story short...I wasn't responding to the treatment they were giving me, so they decided to keep me overnight for observation. I started to improve overnight and by morning, the rash was almost totally gone. The doctor on staff brought an intern to see me and the strange-looking rash because he'd never seen anything like it before. Of course! Leave it to me to be weird! LOL!

In the end, I stopped taking EVERYTHING to get a handle on this rash. I had been taking over-the-counter meds, too, and of course my vitamins and supplements I always take. I stopped it all, including the new round of antibiotics the hospital physician prescribed to me. We went ahead with our trip to Ohio and eventually, I got better. Fingers crossed, I've been ok ever since. But then my problems started with my knees.

I have wanted to move out of our apartment for years now, ever since I lost weight especially. When we moved here, there were two units available - one on the main floor, one in the basement. You walk into the building and either go up a flight of stairs to the main floor, or down a flight to the basement. At well over 400 pounds, I remember thinking which option would be better for me if I was coming home with a load of groceries or just back from a hard day....I wanted to go DOWN, not up. So we took the basement apartment. Now, it's not as bad as you might think. The entire street-facing side of the apartment is nothing but big windows with lots of light coming through. It's not like I live in a hole in the ground! LOL! The main thing I want is outdoor living space. A balcony, a patio. Something.

We like the building, the neighborhood, our landlord, our super. We hate to move. There are three-bedroom units here, so we were considering moving to the third floor, where a unit might be opening up soon. So, when we returned from Ohio, I started climbing to the third floor a couple times a day, just to see how my knees would handle it. Well, guess what? They won't. I might have lost weight, but the damage has already been done. I started having debilitating knee pain for the first time in years. Like, really hurting. Barely able to walk around at work some nights. Yes, I'm a graphic designer but I do soooo much more than that. Some nights, I'm working in four different rooms at once, running around all over the place. There is no way I could've done this job pre-op; it's too physical. So this knee thing is a big issue.

But I iced it, wore my braces, etc. I had two 10Ks coming up, as well as the half marathon again in June. I was behind in my training schedule and starting to panic a little. So I went to the gym and likely overdid it. 8K on the treadmill. OMG....severe knee pain for a couple of days. I've gone back to my family doctor to begin a physiotherapy program.

I am doing better, but certainly not well enough to chance a half marathon. Not only because of my bum knees, but because I'm just not ready. I've spent too much time on my ass recovering from the tummy tuck, recurring sinus infections, etc. I just don't feel like it would be smart of me to say "I can do this!" and go out a kill myself in the process. I have nothing to prove to anyone and there's always next year. I will participate in the two events for which I had originally registered a 10K, I just switched them to 5K. That's more reasonable, I think, and very do-able. But the half marathon is out.

At first, I was really upset about all of this. It seemed like taking a step back. I suppose it is, but it's what's best for me now.

Erich and I are looking for a new place outside this building now - preferably either a main-level unit or someplace with an elevator because my knees can't do stairs (apparently). I'm continuing with my knee rehab and doing well, although the core exercises are waking up my midsection in a sometimes-unpleasant way! I'm in the gym twice a week doing light biking and walking. Sometimes it feels like I'll never be back to normal from the tummy tuck, but there are still no regrets. Life is an adventure and if the road turns and twists, well, that's what makes it interesting, right? Onward!

P.S. Sorry this is so long, and if you've read it all, thank you! It's good for me to get these things out. I appreciate anyone who takes the time to read my ramblings.

Find your Health Hero

You are stronger than you think. This has been my motto on my journey to better health for over five years now. In my moments of self-perceived weakness, I found strength in myself.

When I decided to have RNY gastric bypass surgery in 2009, I didn't join a support group. Indeed, I didn't know there were any to join; there may not have been any at the time in this area. I made my own phone calls, researched the protocol to get the surgery approved out of Canada since I'd already been turned away from a local clinic, and figured it out. My family doctor had no idea what to do and had very little knowledge of the surgery or how to care for me during or after the process. I had to lead her through it as well. I was her test case and after my success, she has gone on to recommend the surgery for other patients.

Maybe I was naive, but I didn't do much surfing around online or anything...not for support, at least. Honestly, I didn't know about any of that stuff. And when I did discover a few online forums I was turned off pretty quickly. Post one random thought or question and you'll get 10 different responses ranging from gratitude and interest to sneering and eye rolling. I didn't, and don't, need the drama. Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit, where I had my procedure, gave me a huge blue binder full of information and I read it voraciously. Again, maybe not too smart of me, but that was about it. I knew what I had to do to be successful and just did it.

Here's my favorite "before" photo. Christmas, 2008 (click to enlarge).


So when people ask me who my mentor is/was, who is my Health Hero, it's surprisingly difficult. After thinking about it for a while, I think it's me! Is that a weird answer? Let me explain.

Were there people I looked up to on this journey? Sure! I never missed an episode of The Biggest Loser or Ruby. But I had to make adjustments for my personal journey, as would anyone else. I tried to ignore it when, as a pre-op, I watched Allison Sweeney roll her eyes and shake her head at the mention of gastric bypass surgery. For me, there was more interest in someone my exact weight (444 pounds) shrinking more and more every week, doing things I didn't think I could. But hey, I was stronger than I thought; I could to that, too. I laughed as Ruby Gettinger smashed her talking scale with a sledgehammer - the exact same scale I had, purchased because it weighed up to 600 pounds - and it said "HELLO...I'M READY" after she thought she destroyed it. OMG, the thing was still alive! As is our quest for health. You can't kill it. Just when you think you're done, you're not. There were many teachable moments on television.

About three weeks after my surgery I found out about a local support group and went to my first meeting. It was at someone's house and there were two people there. It was kind of awkward and a little strange. I understand it was the middle of summer and people are busy, but I dunno. I just never went back. Again, probably not smart on my part. The best thing to come out of that meeting was I was told about The World According to Eggface, which is a wonderful resource for weight loss surgery patients. I still follow Shelly to this day, and she led me to Beth, a.k.a. Melting Mama. These two ladies are definitely worth a look if you're going through the process.

Here's a photo from around that time, August 2009 (click to enlarge):


It must be said that I, like a lot of morbidly obese or super morbidly obese folks, have an issue with meeting new people. Even in a setting where those around me are ostensibly like me, I fear being judged. For my appearance, for my choices, etc. I find myself to be oddly quiet in group settings when I'm definitely not that way normally. I'm a very opinionated, sarcastic and strangely funny person. But I clam up if I don't know you well because I fear saying or doing the wrong thing and seeming foolish. Even five years post-op, this is still somewhat true.

So I chugged along on my own for another three years until Melting Mama's Facebook page led me to a different local support group. This time I went and was much more comfortable. Maybe it was the atmosphere - a mall food court - or maybe it was just that I was ready to mingle, at a different point in my weight loss where I was open to sharing. I had lost 250 pounds by that point and certainly felt better about myself. This blog gave me confidence that I could share with others and also learn a few things myself! I love these people but they're not necessarily my Health Heroes. They inspire me with their determination, failure and forgiveness.

Here's me in September 2012, around the time I found my present support group (click to enlarge). I am getting ready to compete in my first 10K here:


But still, ultimately, it's up to me.

I'm the one who has to reach down inside myself and find a reason to continue. To have scrambled eggs and Greek yogurt for breakfast instead of pancakes & bacon. To go to the gym instead of cuddling up on the sofa with my husband. To set goals, like the half marathon I completed last spring, which force me to take care of myself and treat myself with respect. One of the most difficult lessons to learn is that WE ARE WORTH THE EFFORT. It's so easy to sit back and do nothing. Heroes rise to the occasion and put forth the effort to do what's right. And we all have that inside us.

Give thanks to those who have inspired you in some way, but also give credit to yourself. You are the one who recognized that inspiration and how it could benefit your own life. Then you put a plan in place, taking the steps necessary to achieve your own success. That was all you and no one else. But with that realization also comes responsibility; it's also up to you to keep up the good work. Celebrate your own heroism! It's yours for the taking.

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.

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.

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!

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.

Here's a tip for ya

'Tis the season to be inundated with "helpful" tips to keeping your waistline trim while you navigate your way through office parties, get-togethers with friends and celebrations with family. Here are my thoughts on this, likely to be controversial.

Isn't there enough to stress out about? Enjoy yourself a little bit. Why in the world would you have half an apple and a full glass of ice water (cold water revs up your metabolism; water fills you up; apples are loaded with water) at Aunt Mabel's house rather than enjoy a small slice of her homemade pie or shortbread? Honest to god, I don't get it.

I recently read that the average person gains one pound over the holidays. And even if you gain two or *gasp*...three, so freakin' what? Your routine will return to normal in January and it'll come off. Just live your life.

Have a cookie. Not the whole tin. Done.

And if you're one of those people who can't have one because one starts an avalanche, well, ok. But for most of us, we can live with it. I believe moderation is the key to living without deprivation. I don't believe you need to give up mashed potatoes or the occasional piece of pumpkin pie to have success. Relax and enjoy the holidays!

Now, off topic, if you don't follow Tony Posnanski, The Anti-Jared, you should. Especially on Facebook. His posts are awesome. Tony lost over 200 pounds and knows what he's talking about. Listen to him and get inspired.

Fear and loathing

What are we afraid of?

I'm not talking about things like ghosts, spiders or heights. I'm talking about what it is we think will happen if we go for what we want. What's stopping us? What's stopping you? What's stopping me?

I've been thinking a lot about this lately. Making excuses for not having what we want...that is a form of self-flagellation, isn't it?

I don't have time.
I need to do 1), 2) and 3) first.
I don't possess the skills to have it.
Who do I think I am to want it?
What will people think?
What makes me think I can do it?
I don't deserve it.
I can't do it.

So we get into the cycle of desire, sabotage of procrastination, self-hatred for not achieving and finally acceptance of defeat. I know I've gone through this my whole life. While there have been times I've made some very big, outside-the-box decisions that have worked out well for me, I still lack the self-esteem in some areas that keeps me from having what I really want. By now, I should know and understand my abilities. But a lot of times I don't, and I know I'm not alone.

Why is that? It's like some of us are afraid of success. What do we think will happen if we succeed? Why is it scary?

I get angry at myself for doing this, which often makes things much worse. Anger turned inward is depression. Anger itself isn't a bad thing; it's just energy. But energy needs to be focused in a way that is useful to us. What would happen if we turned that energy on itself, channeling it into a way that can help us achieve what we want, what we deserve? If we do that, depression has no choice but to make room for comfort, complacency....success and happiness.

Happiness, my friends, is subconsciously terrifying for some. We all say we want it, but we put barriers between ourselves and that "goal" allll the time. Is it because we think if we achieve happiness, there will be nothing left to strive for? But there is always more. Always something new to keep us going. I think it has more to do with how we feel about ourselves. And we need to change that mindset to ever feel settled and satisfied.

Practice being good to yourself and searching for ways to direct anger, guilt and self-loathing into more positive pursuits. Think about what will make you happy. Why can't you have this? You know you can. Of course you can! Think of someone else who has what you want. They're no more deserving (often less so) than you are.

I'll try to remember my motto if you will: I am stronger than I think I am.

The 10K Route

You all know my motto is "You are stronger than you think you are." The reason I tell myself this all the time - and ask you to do the same - is it's true. My body continually surprises me with what it can do.

My 10K was this past Sunday and well, I did great! Smashed my goal of 1:45 and really proved to myself that when I want to, I can achieve a lot more than I think.

Chip time (each bib was outfitted with a timer): 1:35:09
Place: 123 (out of 262 entrants, 227 finishers)
Gender place: 84 (out of 167 female finishers)

This isn't bad, in my opinion, in a race that featured competitive walkers. It was also my first attempt at a 10K. I'm pretty pleased with these results. My only complaint was the timer at the finish line seemed to be off. When I crossed the finish line, the time I saw said 1:30:21. I was REALLY happy about that! So when I saw the chip times posted, I was a little disappointed. Still a good time, but not what I'd originally thought.

When Erich and I picked up my race kit the day before the race, they took one look at me and said "You might want the 2X. The shirts are fitting small." Excuse me? LOL! I registered for the women's XL and the guy was right; I ended up with a men's 2X, not the women's 2X (which is smaller). These were the tiniest, tightest, most unflattering shirts I've ever seen in my life. Like they wanted us to channel Lance Armstrong or something, in his yellow Tour de France jersey. Here's me before the race (ignore the desperate need for a tummy tuck):


It was cold on race day but the sun was shining. No rain, as was forecast. I swear....you'd think that as time goes on, advancing technology would enable weather forecasting to be more and more accurate. Erich and I both think the opposite is happening. You can truly have no faith in the forecast. Just wait and look outside. Don't make plans based on what the weather guy says!

The course was very hilly. After about the 4th hill, I grumbled "Jesus, who mapped this course out??" All I kept thinking was I had to do it all over again because the 10K was essentially two loops of the 5K.

Halfway point:


It took me 45 minutes to get to this point. To put that in perspective, it took me 47 minutes to do the Father's Day 5K in June...and I jogged for some of that. WTF? I was seriously surprised at my time. But I didn't think I could keep up the pace because of those hills.

But I did! Well, pretty much, anyway! I don't mind saying I was really proud of myself. As I crossed the finish line and they put that medal around my neck, I could see Erich there with the camera pointed at me, huge smile on his face. I went straight to him and got my hug & kiss. My husband rocks.

Finish line:


Red face, as usual:


My knees held up fine during the race, but it was a different story when I got home and the next day. I was pretty sore. Lots of ice and Tylenol Arthritis. Sunday night, I went to my coffee meeting that I wrote about in my last blog. I nearly fell asleep and had to leave early. Wiped out!

But by Tuesday, I was pretty much back to normal. My body bounces back quickly now and again...I am stronger than I think I am. It's very important to push yourself because trust me, you are capable of a lot if you just believe.

Our brains tell us lies, and if we listen, we cost ourselves surprises. - Andrew Zimmern

I have another 5K this Sunday, the CIBC Run for the Cure, an event that benefits the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation. I did it last year and I have no doubt that I'll beat my time. Forecast is for rain and cold again. Suuureeeee. We'll see!

Final countdown

Tomorrow, I'll participate in my first 10K "race", Minds in Motion KW Walking Classic, a competitive walk that funds good shoes for people using exercise to recover from mental illness.

I feel ready for it. I've been training for eight weeks and while I have by no means been perfect, I've stuck to the schedule pretty well. My knees are "meh"....they're ok but it is what it is. For some reason, my right ankle started feeling wonky yesterday. So whatever that's all about. We'll see how it goes. But all in all, I'm feeling good about it.

The race starts at 9am. My poor husband will go with me at what is, for him, an UNGODLY early hour. He will wait for me in the cold and rain (yes, that is the weather forecast) all so he can take a picture of me crossing the finish line, give me a big hug and kiss, and tell me how proud he is of me. Pretty special.

So cross your fingers and toes for me that all goes well! I'm pretty excited!

Then next weekend, I will participate in my second CIBC Run for the Cure, a 5K event that benefits the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation. I did the event last year. It was my first such undertaking and took me a little over an hour to finish. I injured my knee the night before so I always wondered if that had anything to do with what I considered a slow time. Next week, I'll find out for sure. It took me 45 minutes to do the Father's Day 5K, so I know I can do better than an hour.

It took me just under two hours to complete the dry run of the 10K that I did a couple Saturdays ago. Walking, mind you, no running allowed. People who run in the KW Walking Classic get disqualified, so I've been really trying to curb my desire to at least trot when the music on my mp3 player gets me going. So walking and stopping for crosswalks, traffic, strollers and dogs (not allowed on the route Sunday). I'm hoping to slash that two hours by at least 10 minutes.

In other news, I've been meaning to write a little about a new, local support group I joined. It's a very simple, casual group of people in various stages of their weight loss-surgery journeys getting together for coffee and our crazy version of fellowship. I gotta tell ya, I love these people. I haven't met one yet that I wouldn't want to take a road trip with!

The local support group is part of a larger network called the Community of Bariatric Patients of Southern Ontario. An overnight meet-and-greet is being held in Sarnia next month so everyone can get to know each other even better. I'd love to tell you I was attending but I'm not. Too short notice, most people have roommates already and it's too close to Halloween! I can't miss our annual viewing of "Rocky Horror Picture Show". LOL! Next year.

If there's a single regret I have about getting my surgery in Detroit instead of Ontario, it's that I missed out on things like this. I should've been with these people for 3 years, not 3 months. But oh well. I know about it now and I'm all in! As I've said many times before, support is so important.

Who Says You Can't Go Home?

Ok, so I've been really busy lately and learning things about me more and more. I consistently underestimate myself, even though I'm the same person who lost 250 pounds and completely changed my life. That, all by itself, should let me know that I am capable of pretty much anything.

During the first week of August, I went home to Ohio for a week-long visit with my parents and old friends. Maybe I am truly blessed but I am someone who can always go home:



The week started off with a family reunion, continued with fabulous lunches, coffees, shopping and dinners with old friends. My days were busy with activity and my nights were spent chilling out at the house with my parents. It was a good trip, just what I need every time I make it. Here's a photo of my parents and me, right before we left to come back to Ontario (click to enlarge):



We took only one day trip to Serpent Mount, the largest prehistoric effigy mound in the world...conveniently located about 20 minutes from my parents' house. Erich has seen the mound featured on television specials on the Sci-Fi and History Channel and always wanted to go there but for some reason, we never got around to it. This year, we did. I hadn't been there myself since a grade-school field trip. It was a pretty cool place and definitely worth the trip. While there, we climbed the observation tower to have a look at the mound from above. As I ascended the stairs, I couldn't help but think this was yet another thing I would never have attempted pre-op. We had someone else up there take our photo (click to enlarge):



I continued my 10K training in Ohio - as I mentioned in my last blog, the local YMCA offered me a free guest membership while I was there. The facilities were very good and made it easy for me to get my workouts in. I would get up and go in the morning, before Erich woke up and we started our day.

Of course, one of the perks of crossing the border is getting all the goodies that aren't available here, especially to those of us who have had gastric bypass surgery. The sugar-free syrups to put in our protein shakes, the MUCH larger varieties of low-fat and sugar-free food...and the much lower prices of things that can be found here. Everyone...EVERYONE...loads up on supplies when in the States. Here's my haul:



A variety box of low-sugar oatmeal! Cool flavours of protein bars and Mio! Torani syrup AND...I found sugar-free syrups at Ollie's and the dollar store for....wait for it...ONE DOLLAR. And yes, they were sweetened with Splenda. I would've bought an entire case if they would've had it. OMG. I was so happy. LOL! That big bottle of sugar-free maple syrup there in the middle? That costs less than a bottle almost half its size here. I had my dad order high-dosage calcium supplements from GNC; not available in Canada. Nice haul.

Right after I came back, I had to get super focused at work because my supervisor was going on vacation for two weeks. We are the only two people left in my department so that meant I was alone. For two weeks, running the whole show by myself. I don't mind telling you I was pretty worried about this. There's a reason he's my supervisor and gets paid more than me - he does things I never do. And to be frank, I'm not too interested in learning the things he does without the bump in pay that should rightfully come with it. But I had no choice. I dread letting people down. I dread not rising to the occasion. Like most people, I think, but my drama-queen nature creates/amplifies crises on a regular basis. But I think I did a pretty good job, all in all. I didn't kill anyone so that's a plus. Seriously, I was fine about 95% of the time. I shake my head at myself...I really am a much more capable person than I realize.

You all are more capable than you realize. I sometimes need to be reminded of my own motto: You are stronger than you think you are. For sure!

Let the games begin!

So as I reported a couple of weeks ago, I signed up for a walking 10K to celebrate my re-birthday. The Minds in Motion website includes helpful training schedules for their races; I just completed week one and am proud to say that I not only lived through it but I thoroughly enjoyed it!

Getting back into the gym at least 4 days a week has been really good for me. I had been walking/jogging a lot outside but during the heatwave, well, I did pretty much nothing. Having this schedule in front of me and knowing I need to adhere to it in order to complete the 10K safely and efficiently, helps (click to enlarge).



The race isn't until September 23, so I didn't need to start training until tomorrow but I figured I'd go ahead - I was pretty excited to start, actually! I'm a very visual person and I love seeing this schedule. I can see me doing many more events like this with a goal in mind and a clear path to getting there.

Since I'm American, my copy of the schedule has a little key written off to the left side with the mile equivalent of the kilometers! And - you might be surprised to hear this - I've never been on a treadmill here that had a kilometer feature. They're all in miles. Very odd. So...for those who are interested...

3K = 1.86 miles
4K = 2.49 miles
5K = 3.1 miles
6K = 3.73 miles
7K = 4.35 miles
8K = 5 miles
9K = 5.6 miles
10K = 6.2 miles

I like that the "rest" days are Friday and Sunday. With Erich working nights Monday to Thursday, Fridays are special to us. We often go out to dinner then chill out in front of the tube, catching up on those things we forget to mention during our nightly phone calls. Same with Sunday - it's our lazy day. I often work out Saturdays before he gets up, so this is perfect.

The week went pretty well. I strapped on my braces, downed a preventive dose of Tylenol Arthritis and took off to the gym. So far, so good! I am continually surprised by how in shape I am. The fact that I can work all day then go to a 5K isn't anything new - I've done it before - but it still surprises me.

Well, maybe not work ALL day. I'm getting off earlier and earlier. Which is good for gym time, but bad for the pocketbook. Anyone have a job for me out there!?!

For my first "cross train" day, I did an abs workout video. I felt it for a few days! That's probably a sign I need to do it more often.

The Olympics began over the weekend and with me doing this piddly little training schedule, it got me to thinking about what they go through. Such intense training. Hours a day for years. Now that's dedication worthy of admiration and respect.

This time next week, I will be in Ohio for a week to attend my family's annual reunion and visit old friends and stomping grounds! There is a YMCA about 15 minutes from my parents' house and I have contacted them about training there. The manager assured me he would give me a pass to use for the week. Awesome! I was totally prepared to pay so that was a nice gesture on his part. Priority number one when we get down there will be to go get that pass.

Random cool event: Bought a pair of Dr. Scholls walking shoes yesterday since I wanted to have a pair that weren't my normal running shoes; I need a pair to use when I have to walk around all day at an event. They were priced $35. Ok, fine. Well....they scanned at $3.00. That's right. THREE. The checkout lady definitely noticed it but said "I'm not telling anyone. Go get you another pair!" LOL! They didn't have any more in my size, or I would've. Too cool, huh? Every now and then, karma smiles.