Habits of highly successful people

In the past year or so, I've let old habits creep back into my life and I have the regain to show for it. These past couple of weeks, my focus hasn't been on weight loss specifically, but to break those habits once again.

I had started doing sabotaging things like bringing unhealthy food into the house, regretting it, then rationalizing "Well, it's here, I'll eat it but won't buy any more." It sounds so ridiculous coming from someone who worked so hard to lose 250 pounds, but that's what I was doing. Sometimes I'd pick up a candy bar at the checkout. The vending machine at work, where I work ALONE at night, I might add, was a major draw. So I'm trying to break those habits once again and succeeding very well, I think. Down seven pounds, I'm pretty happy with the results so far, both on the scale and in my brain.

A return to common sense is what's needed here. That's all, nothing more. I do hate it when weight-loss gurus and internet "experts" who comment on weight-loss stories say in frustration, "Just eat less, move more and don't eat junk. It's simple!" It's NOT simple. If it was, no one would have a weight problem. So while it is a matter of common sense, it's not that easy. But I do believe in setting up your surroundings for success. It's not a matter of "just because it's there doesn't mean you have to eat it." People who have a healthy relationship with food say shit like that. For the rest of us, we have to create common sense mindfully. We have to work at it.

I'm no longer sure I'll ever have a normal, healthy relationship with food. When I started this journey, I said all I wanted was to be normal. I wanted to not have to think about food all the fucking time. I mean, think about that; to ensure success, we have to put a lot of thought into it. No other addiction is like that in the way it is with food. We have to constantly think about and carefully plan how much of our crack we can have. Over the years, we can hope to develop good habits and I think most of us do, but it's soooooo easy to fall off that wagon. The world around us is set up for us to fail. We must be mindful at all times. That kinda sucks, but that's just the way it is. Try to find out what triggers you and avoid it as much as you can. I read on bariatric websites and Facebook pages where patients say things like "I now eat because I have to, not because I want to." Lemme tell ya something - that will never be me! LOL! I still love to eat. I will have to be very careful for the rest of my life. And I wonder if people who say things like that ever had an actual food addiction or maybe they've had severe complications with their surgery and it hinders their ability to eat. I dunno. All I know is I find that VERY strange to hear from our community. Kudos to them, but that's not me.

So...breaking bad habits. Yes, that's working. Cross your fingers for me.

Erich and I are moving in late June and over Canada Day weekend. We found a sweet little house with three bedrooms. The basement is rented out, but we will have two floors and full use of the garage, as many as three cars in the driveway and the backyard. I have wanted out of this apartment for YEARS! Yay! We're excited but stressed out about the move, mainly because we can't find many people available to help us over the long weekend. Erich and I are not overflowing with friends - we're both introverts and don't let people in easily - and family is fairly nonexistent so...it's a problem. Add in the fact that my lifting ability is hindered because I'm STILL recovering from this damn tummy tuck and we're starting to feel the stress. I told him I'll put on two binders (LOL) and we'll just do it. No matter what. And no stress eating for me!

My other mission this summer is to attempt to make peace with my batwings. That's the extra skin hanging off my upper arms, for those not familiar with the term. Unless there's a winning lottery ticket somewhere, that skin is staying put. Last weekend, I wore a sleeveless top - without a shrug or sweater! - out in public for the first time since my weight loss. It didn't kill me. People didn't stare, throw stones or chase me down the street with torches and pitchforks. I'm going to do my best to wear them more and more this summer. Swimsuits, however....no, I'm not there yet. The excess skin on my upper thighs is BAD. No, it's really bad. No one needs to see that! I will wear board shorts or something (it needs to be knee length).

But sleeveless, I'm going to try.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Good enough

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I will if you will!

This is a test. This is not a test.

Ok, are you ready?

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

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

Can you say furious?

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

So I called (Tuesday the 9th).

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joining the Flat Belly Society

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

The secret under our clothes

Good grief, it's been a while.

So did any of you watch TLC's The Real Skinny last Monday? I didn't watch till this weekend, but man...it was like watching me.

We follow two post-ops on their final journey to "normal" - the removal of the excess skin that oftentimes comes with massive weight loss. Sarah is 28 and was once almost 400 pounds. Chris is 41 and started out at 424. They have both reached a normal weight, but deal with the aftermath of what they did to their bodies every day when they look into the mirror.

They both get the dream procedure for most post-ops: The 360 circumferential body lift. YOWZA!!! If I ever win the lottery, this is the one. As their surgeon, Dr. J. Timothy Katzen, described, it's sort of like "cutting someone in half and putting them back together."

Sarah's story was especially poignant to me, since we look very similar naked. I know it's not what a lot of you want to hear, especially those just starting out, but it's the truth. It's the "secret under my clothes", as Chris said that people who have gone through massive weight loss - whether surgical or "natural" - hide every single day. Hide it from everyone but themselves, that is.

It's very difficult to explain how painful it is, psychologically, to be successful with your battle against obesity yet not to feel like you've completed the transformation because you are still ashamed of the way you look. It's hard to explain that to people who are not in the same boat. They think you're crazy. You should just be happy that you've lost all the weight and to them, you look great! Of course, they don't see you naked, right?

Sarah explained her daily routine stuffing her stomach skin down into her jeans. Of lifting the skin to wash underneath it; using powder to keep it dry and diaper rash ointment to soothe the inevitable rashes that occur (I have both in my bathroom right now). Of feeling it jerk and jiggle all over the place when you run. Chris talked about how it smacks him when he does jumping jacks or "hits the ground first" when he does a push-up. All of this is true, and the great majority of post-ops quietly deal with it every day.

It's worth mentioning that I never had these issues with my fat. It's the skin that's the problem. So that's the demoralizing part. You think the physical challenges of your life will be over when you lose weight. You think you'll be bursting to get into a bikini or wear shorts and halter tops. You think life will be normal, and it's not. It's still not. And that is heartbreaking for a lot of people. Sarah's first words in the recovery room were "Am I skinny yet?" This from someone who has lost more than 200 pounds.

Now I'm not about to sit here and tell you I cry into my Crystal Light every day about this. I don't. I am so grateful to have accomplished everything I have so far. I'm proud of myself and hey....I do look pretty damn good (with clothes on, anyway). But the excess skin does suck. It affects the way I shop, it affects the way I see myself and reminds me of what I let myself become. Of what I did to myself and my body. That hurts a lot. This is what I did to myself. It's my punishment for how I behaved for most of my life. Sarah said as much during the show and that's similar to how I feel, too.

Lately I have felt myself backsliding into bad habits that I know I need to get a grip on. I've had some regain this winter but the scale is starting to move back down. I know how to do this. Another reminder that I will never be done. That's ok; I just need to always remember it and not just when it's convenient for me. I made a promise to you all and to myself - in this blog - that I would never be one of those people who says "Before I knew what happened, I'd gained 50 pounds." So I need to get it together before that happens. Don't worry, we're not even close to that number! And we never will be!

One more thing then I'll stop: Those Weight Watchers commercials with Jennifer Hudson screeching in them grate on my nerves. Tired of it! Moving on....