I don't know if anyone ever stumbles into this space anymore, but I wanted to update you, just in case. Plus I'm trying to make it til 5:10 at work so I can feed some stray cats at the office next door after all of their busybodies go home!
It's now been almost 9 months since my surgery, and I'm down 93 pounds. I went from a size 24 to a size 12, and I'm between M-L shirts. My whole life feels different now. I'm happier, I don't have aches and pains, and I'm even dating. Even during Covid quarantine when I gave up on life and just settled into a diet of ice cream and goldfish crackers, I only gained a few pounds because I can't eat very much, even when I turn to junk. So June 1st I decided to get back on the wagon, and I dropped 15 pounds fast.
Just do it. Get the sleeve. You can spend your whole life fighting this demon, or you can get a quick procedure and get all of the help that you've deserved all along. I wondered if I was doing something TOO drastic. Nope. It was just the right amount of drastic to take me out of prison and show me what life is supposed to be like.
Monday, June 29, 2020
Tuesday, November 19, 2019
Forty-One
I weighed in today and am officially down 41 pounds from the day I started my pre-op liquid diet, September 21st. I won't mind if this pace continues for another 40 pounds! People are really starting to notice now, which I didn't expect until I'd hit at least 50. That's what it took the last time I dropped a lot of weight.
I had egg salad from a local health food store for lunch. It didn't sit well. I'm going to dinner with my fellow non-meat-eating friends tonight. The restaurant has a special with butternut squash and vegan sausage. My tummy is still angry from lunch, so I'm a little nervous about dinner. But I want to support any restaurant that makes an effort to include creative vegetarian, pescatarian and vegan meals.
So my eating style is kind of hard, because I could and should be eating chicken and turkey at this point. But I don't want to. I did make some exceptions in recovery for some chicken broth and beef broth because I didn't have many options...or sometimes any options. But now that I'm mostly fully recovered, I'm back to only eating fish/seafood and no other meat. But I have to watch because I had tuna 4x in 2 days over the weekend, and I'll end up sick if I keep that up. Soon I can add back in shrimp which will help. Anyway, I eat low carb, low calorie, moderate fat, high protein. Nectar protein shakes are a huge help. But they aren't meal replacements, as they really only contain protein and no other nutritional value. They sure taste good though, mixed with Fairlife white milk.
Off to dinner now. I know this is boring, but I'm just trying to stay in the habit of writing.
I had egg salad from a local health food store for lunch. It didn't sit well. I'm going to dinner with my fellow non-meat-eating friends tonight. The restaurant has a special with butternut squash and vegan sausage. My tummy is still angry from lunch, so I'm a little nervous about dinner. But I want to support any restaurant that makes an effort to include creative vegetarian, pescatarian and vegan meals.
So my eating style is kind of hard, because I could and should be eating chicken and turkey at this point. But I don't want to. I did make some exceptions in recovery for some chicken broth and beef broth because I didn't have many options...or sometimes any options. But now that I'm mostly fully recovered, I'm back to only eating fish/seafood and no other meat. But I have to watch because I had tuna 4x in 2 days over the weekend, and I'll end up sick if I keep that up. Soon I can add back in shrimp which will help. Anyway, I eat low carb, low calorie, moderate fat, high protein. Nectar protein shakes are a huge help. But they aren't meal replacements, as they really only contain protein and no other nutritional value. They sure taste good though, mixed with Fairlife white milk.
Off to dinner now. I know this is boring, but I'm just trying to stay in the habit of writing.
Monday, November 18, 2019
Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Slightly Smaller Non-Bikini
You guys. I SUCK at writing this blog. It's mainly because I don't have a computer at home, and I'm not about to start typing blogs on my phone.
But I do NOT suck at this diet. I'm so sorry I left you behind during pre-op. You've missed ALL of
the good parts. After that last blog post things got pretty easy on the liquid diet. Once my period GTFO of the way, my hunger left with it. By the second week I was forcing myself to drink Powerade Zero just to survive, but I didn't want much of anything. I'd make soup, taste it, then dump it.
I flew out at 6am on surgery day, October 5th. The whole way there I was thinking that I could just get off the plane, rent a car, and drive up the coast from San Diego to LA, visiting taco and margarita bars on the shore, ultimately ending up at Disneyland with a Dole Whip and churro in hand. Thankfully I had in-flight internet and my friend Laurie made me PROMISE I'd call the valet to pick me up and take me to the hospital.
When I landed I already had a text from my valet, Juan. He picked me up curbside and drove me 20 minutes across the border into Tijuana. It was shocking to see there was NOTHING to do to cross the border. You can get in with no questions asked.
Hospital BC is just another 5 miles or so, inside a gate, overlooking the city. It was a beautiful entryway, which made me feel so good right away. Sunshine and scenery! I started filling out paperwork right away, and then everything happened SO FAST. They drew my blood and took xrays of my guts. Then I went to my room where I got changed into my gown and compression stockings. At that point I met the surgeon, anesthesiologist, cardiologist, surgical nurse, and who knows who else...it was a blur. My test results came back clear so it was off to surgery.
Now, anyone who knows me, which is none of you, knows that I've spent my entire life avoiding needles at any cost. HUGE needlephobe. It was truly remarkable how skilled these pokers were. I didn't feel the bloodwork needle at all. The IV of course didn't feel GREAT going in, but it was not bad at all. And just about the time I started to get super nervous and was ready to say "I think I'm going to go get those beach tacos..." I was OUT.
I woke up 14 seconds later in recovery, feeling surprisingly decent. I slept in my room for about an hour and then they wanted me to get up and walk. I won't lie, I was feeling nauseous at this point, and full of air. They fill your abdomen with gas to provide room for the surgery, and that gas has to go somewhere...up into your body, which hurts. The gas pain actually hurts worse than the incisions or anything inside. Walking helps more than anything, so all night long I alternated between small dry heaves into a cup and walking the halls, with a little sleep. They managed my pain very well and they were super compassionate. More than anything I wanted a drink - because it was nothing-by-mouth from midnight the previous night until the morning after surgery. I could only chew ice chips and spit it back out. I met some nice people in the hallways - other patients, and the mom of a patient. I have remained in touch with all of them and expect to be friends for a long time!
The staff was the absolute greatest, and the facility just as good - BETTER - than anything I've seen in America. Every 8 hours we had a new valet to help us with anything we needed, and the valets translated for the non-English speaking nurses. They took care of me so well, I could cry thinking about it. Since I'm single I do EVERYTHING for myself, and even though I didn't feel well, I felt truly pampered, like a spa vacation.
24 hours after surgery my mind was blown by how much better I felt. I spent the day walking and hanging out with my new friends, watching TV and talking to my mom online, who was home freaking out for no good reason. I was FINE! I took a shower, did a swallow test, then got a tray of
jello and broth, juice and coffee. I slept very well that night and was dismissed the next morning. They took us to a beautiful hotel, called Real Inn Tijuana. We checked in and had an hour to rest, then
we went on an all-day tour of Tijuana. We had lunch in an awesome historic restaurant where Caesar salad was invented. We of course could only have broth, but the French Onion broth was like manna from Heaven! Just eating out on a patio in the sunshine and tasting something real was so amazing. We did some shopping, then went to the ocean. It was really sobering because the border wall runs right down the beach into the water. Kids were standing against it gazing into San Diego.
Then we visited another beach that was more of a party atmosphere. Lots
of restaurants and people hanging out, followed by a secluded private
beach...manned by a guy in a pop-up tent in a recliner who charged $2 to
drive in. It was gorgeous! And right next to a 20th Century Fox movie
studio with a giant pirate ship outside! We looked at art, and stopped
at a pharmacy to pick up all of our medications. Including the worst
part of the entire experience - BLOOD THINNER INJECTIONS.That's right...needlephobe me had to give myself injections for a week after surgery! I was absolutely panicked. But the doctor came to the hotel that night to check on me and she showed me how to do it. I wasn't reassured too much, but I was happy for the lesson. We were able to call room service and ask for a bariatric meal, and they brought me a tray of broth, apple juice and a popsicle. Plus the hospital had sent sports drinks and bouillon cubes.
The next morning the valet was waiting for me in the lobby and we made the 90 minute trip across the border. That's right...no questions coming in....90 minutes going out. It was like a street party the whole way. People selling tacos, churros, toys, magazines. Imagine how many people sit in that every day to cross into America to go to work!
The flight home wasn't too bad. My backpack was a little heavier than I should have been carrying I think. I found some soup on my layover and drank the broth on the plane. I'd booked first class to have more room to move around, which was money well spent. When I got home I drove myself home and faced my first injection. It wasn't great, I pretty much stabbed myself and bled. My nurse brother talked me through it the next day..."STRAIGHT IN, STRAIGHT OUT." I got used to it.
I spent the next day in bed, which was a Wednesday. on Thursday I picked up my dog, and by Monday I was back to work. It's truly unbelievable how easy recovery was, starting the day after surgery. Even the night of surgery, I would say I felt about the same or slightly better as having a stomach flu. Since then I've had no complications. My incisions are healing very well, and I've gone through all of the stages of eating and I have very few stages left before I can eat anything I can tolerate. I've had seared ahi tuna this week, sugar free ice cream, some soft veggies, protein chips.
And I threw away my swimsuit. I found it the other day and figured by the time I need one again, that one won't fit. I'll never be in a bikini with this cellulite and the inevitable loose skin, but I won't be in that grandma swimdress again, either. I've lost 40 pounds in less than 2 months. I've had a couple of stalls - I went 9 days without losing anything in October. Then I lost 7 pounds the next week. Screw you, period!
I blame everything weird on my gallbladder. Like if I eat too fast around other people and I feel sick. Or if I don't eat "enough." Plus I do say I'm dieting which helps. But for the most part I've been able to eat in restaurants without anyone seeming to notice me being weird. Well, 2 weeks post-op I went out with a group and I attempted to eat hummus and soup. Way too much of both. I felt like I was going to DIE and I had a complete panic attack. And we were seated at a weird table where I couldn't really easily get out to go to the restroom so I was really having a breakdown and trying to hide it. But once I got some fresh air and walked from the restaurant to the theater, I felt much better. That's the only time I've pushed my pouch too far.
If you are reading this and thinking about bariatric surgery but your insurance doesn't cover it, or you don't want to jump through all of those hoops, then I highly recommend Hospital BC in Tijuana. For under $5,000 you'll have a top-rated, certified medical team and a built-in vacation with followup care that goes on long after you come home. I have zero regrets, except for not doing this 5 years ago.
But I do NOT suck at this diet. I'm so sorry I left you behind during pre-op. You've missed ALL of
the good parts. After that last blog post things got pretty easy on the liquid diet. Once my period GTFO of the way, my hunger left with it. By the second week I was forcing myself to drink Powerade Zero just to survive, but I didn't want much of anything. I'd make soup, taste it, then dump it.
I flew out at 6am on surgery day, October 5th. The whole way there I was thinking that I could just get off the plane, rent a car, and drive up the coast from San Diego to LA, visiting taco and margarita bars on the shore, ultimately ending up at Disneyland with a Dole Whip and churro in hand. Thankfully I had in-flight internet and my friend Laurie made me PROMISE I'd call the valet to pick me up and take me to the hospital.
When I landed I already had a text from my valet, Juan. He picked me up curbside and drove me 20 minutes across the border into Tijuana. It was shocking to see there was NOTHING to do to cross the border. You can get in with no questions asked.
Now, anyone who knows me, which is none of you, knows that I've spent my entire life avoiding needles at any cost. HUGE needlephobe. It was truly remarkable how skilled these pokers were. I didn't feel the bloodwork needle at all. The IV of course didn't feel GREAT going in, but it was not bad at all. And just about the time I started to get super nervous and was ready to say "I think I'm going to go get those beach tacos..." I was OUT.
I woke up 14 seconds later in recovery, feeling surprisingly decent. I slept in my room for about an hour and then they wanted me to get up and walk. I won't lie, I was feeling nauseous at this point, and full of air. They fill your abdomen with gas to provide room for the surgery, and that gas has to go somewhere...up into your body, which hurts. The gas pain actually hurts worse than the incisions or anything inside. Walking helps more than anything, so all night long I alternated between small dry heaves into a cup and walking the halls, with a little sleep. They managed my pain very well and they were super compassionate. More than anything I wanted a drink - because it was nothing-by-mouth from midnight the previous night until the morning after surgery. I could only chew ice chips and spit it back out. I met some nice people in the hallways - other patients, and the mom of a patient. I have remained in touch with all of them and expect to be friends for a long time!
The staff was the absolute greatest, and the facility just as good - BETTER - than anything I've seen in America. Every 8 hours we had a new valet to help us with anything we needed, and the valets translated for the non-English speaking nurses. They took care of me so well, I could cry thinking about it. Since I'm single I do EVERYTHING for myself, and even though I didn't feel well, I felt truly pampered, like a spa vacation.
24 hours after surgery my mind was blown by how much better I felt. I spent the day walking and hanging out with my new friends, watching TV and talking to my mom online, who was home freaking out for no good reason. I was FINE! I took a shower, did a swallow test, then got a tray of
jello and broth, juice and coffee. I slept very well that night and was dismissed the next morning. They took us to a beautiful hotel, called Real Inn Tijuana. We checked in and had an hour to rest, then
Then we visited another beach that was more of a party atmosphere. Lots
of restaurants and people hanging out, followed by a secluded private
beach...manned by a guy in a pop-up tent in a recliner who charged $2 to
drive in. It was gorgeous! And right next to a 20th Century Fox movie
studio with a giant pirate ship outside! We looked at art, and stopped
at a pharmacy to pick up all of our medications. Including the worst
part of the entire experience - BLOOD THINNER INJECTIONS.That's right...needlephobe me had to give myself injections for a week after surgery! I was absolutely panicked. But the doctor came to the hotel that night to check on me and she showed me how to do it. I wasn't reassured too much, but I was happy for the lesson. We were able to call room service and ask for a bariatric meal, and they brought me a tray of broth, apple juice and a popsicle. Plus the hospital had sent sports drinks and bouillon cubes.The next morning the valet was waiting for me in the lobby and we made the 90 minute trip across the border. That's right...no questions coming in....90 minutes going out. It was like a street party the whole way. People selling tacos, churros, toys, magazines. Imagine how many people sit in that every day to cross into America to go to work!
The flight home wasn't too bad. My backpack was a little heavier than I should have been carrying I think. I found some soup on my layover and drank the broth on the plane. I'd booked first class to have more room to move around, which was money well spent. When I got home I drove myself home and faced my first injection. It wasn't great, I pretty much stabbed myself and bled. My nurse brother talked me through it the next day..."STRAIGHT IN, STRAIGHT OUT." I got used to it.
I spent the next day in bed, which was a Wednesday. on Thursday I picked up my dog, and by Monday I was back to work. It's truly unbelievable how easy recovery was, starting the day after surgery. Even the night of surgery, I would say I felt about the same or slightly better as having a stomach flu. Since then I've had no complications. My incisions are healing very well, and I've gone through all of the stages of eating and I have very few stages left before I can eat anything I can tolerate. I've had seared ahi tuna this week, sugar free ice cream, some soft veggies, protein chips.
And I threw away my swimsuit. I found it the other day and figured by the time I need one again, that one won't fit. I'll never be in a bikini with this cellulite and the inevitable loose skin, but I won't be in that grandma swimdress again, either. I've lost 40 pounds in less than 2 months. I've had a couple of stalls - I went 9 days without losing anything in October. Then I lost 7 pounds the next week. Screw you, period!
I blame everything weird on my gallbladder. Like if I eat too fast around other people and I feel sick. Or if I don't eat "enough." Plus I do say I'm dieting which helps. But for the most part I've been able to eat in restaurants without anyone seeming to notice me being weird. Well, 2 weeks post-op I went out with a group and I attempted to eat hummus and soup. Way too much of both. I felt like I was going to DIE and I had a complete panic attack. And we were seated at a weird table where I couldn't really easily get out to go to the restroom so I was really having a breakdown and trying to hide it. But once I got some fresh air and walked from the restaurant to the theater, I felt much better. That's the only time I've pushed my pouch too far.
If you are reading this and thinking about bariatric surgery but your insurance doesn't cover it, or you don't want to jump through all of those hoops, then I highly recommend Hospital BC in Tijuana. For under $5,000 you'll have a top-rated, certified medical team and a built-in vacation with followup care that goes on long after you come home. I have zero regrets, except for not doing this 5 years ago.
Wednesday, September 25, 2019
I lack enthusiasm
Sad but true: The most exciting part of my workday is normally deciding what to have for lunch. My days severely lack entertainment now, and my enthusiasm is non-existent. I feel like I'm just living from one beverage to the next, desperate for something that tastes like something. It's not even hunger, it's pure boredom. The pleasure center of my brain is definitely located in my mouth.
Pretty much everyone says the first 3 days are the worst then it gets a lot better. FAKE NEWS. The first 3 days were a breeze. Yesterday was a little worse, and today is a giant turd. I wandered through the food aisle of the drug store thinking that some magical liquid I hadn't previously considered might jump out at me. Whopper-in-a-Cup? If I mix peanut butter and frosting together with some Snickers coffee creamer is that considered a smoothie?
Only 9 more full days of this before surgery day. Things don't improve after that as far as taste and texture go. But at least I'll feel like crap and won't want to eat, so there's that. Of course, I started my period yesterday so that's probably why I feel like a monster now.
I woke up around 6am, and my first thought was "WHAT HAVE I DONE?" Like, is this real life? I'm really flying to fucking Mexico in a week to have someone I've never met carve out 80% of my stomach? I'm going to eat dime-size bites and 1/4 cup portions for the rest of my life? How did I let this happen? But I know if I bail on the surgery, I'll run face first into a pizza and that will be that. I've tried, succeeded, and failed SO many times since the age of 8....nothing is different this time. It has to be this way.
I'm down 9 pounds today.
Pretty much everyone says the first 3 days are the worst then it gets a lot better. FAKE NEWS. The first 3 days were a breeze. Yesterday was a little worse, and today is a giant turd. I wandered through the food aisle of the drug store thinking that some magical liquid I hadn't previously considered might jump out at me. Whopper-in-a-Cup? If I mix peanut butter and frosting together with some Snickers coffee creamer is that considered a smoothie?
Only 9 more full days of this before surgery day. Things don't improve after that as far as taste and texture go. But at least I'll feel like crap and won't want to eat, so there's that. Of course, I started my period yesterday so that's probably why I feel like a monster now.
I woke up around 6am, and my first thought was "WHAT HAVE I DONE?" Like, is this real life? I'm really flying to fucking Mexico in a week to have someone I've never met carve out 80% of my stomach? I'm going to eat dime-size bites and 1/4 cup portions for the rest of my life? How did I let this happen? But I know if I bail on the surgery, I'll run face first into a pizza and that will be that. I've tried, succeeded, and failed SO many times since the age of 8....nothing is different this time. It has to be this way.
I'm down 9 pounds today.
Tuesday, September 24, 2019
I'm Souper, Thanks for Asking
Well last night was a breeze. I had a big mug of pureed cream of celery soup. When you eat a cup of soup with a tiny spoon it takes FOREVER. So you magically feel full. I ate outside with the dog by a fire, with my favorite playlist of songs. It made the meal a nice experience despite the lack of actual food.
Today I'm down 8 pounds. Not bad for 3 days! I did break my own rule and engage in some political banter on Facebook last night, and I can only blame the lack of food for that one because I NEVER do that. It wasn't even over the top, but the guy on the other end of it decided we aren't friends anymore. I'm a little bummed about that, but not binge on Reese's bummed. There's probably no chance of the world going back to the way it was before, right? Where people could just talk about important issues without drawing deep lines in the sand?
I've spent the day thinking about what flavor of soup I'll have tonight. The soup is getting me through because it feels like real food. I have a feeling I'll be a soup expert by the time I get to stage 3 soft foods post-op.
Boring blog, but it's all I've got. Go hug a friend and tell them love is stronger than politics.
Today I'm down 8 pounds. Not bad for 3 days! I did break my own rule and engage in some political banter on Facebook last night, and I can only blame the lack of food for that one because I NEVER do that. It wasn't even over the top, but the guy on the other end of it decided we aren't friends anymore. I'm a little bummed about that, but not binge on Reese's bummed. There's probably no chance of the world going back to the way it was before, right? Where people could just talk about important issues without drawing deep lines in the sand?
I've spent the day thinking about what flavor of soup I'll have tonight. The soup is getting me through because it feels like real food. I have a feeling I'll be a soup expert by the time I get to stage 3 soft foods post-op.
Boring blog, but it's all I've got. Go hug a friend and tell them love is stronger than politics.
Monday, September 23, 2019
The Great Gallbladder Bamboozle
Well, here I am again. Fatter than ever. I think I ended up losing around 35 pounds last year. I went back to Hawaii in July and never got back on my diet when I returned. I shot up to my new highest weight ever... 255 pounds. I did finally go to a real doctor, and amazingly, my tests were pretty good. Glucose was perfect. Cholesterol not too far off the mark. Had a normal EKG. Blood pressure is still a bit high but not enough to go on meds. So I finally made a decision I've wrestled with for many years.
Back in 2014 when I kicked B and took names on my diet, it all started with a conversation with a friend who was talking about gastric bypass surgery. I said I had to find out one last time if I could do this on my own before resorting to that. And I did! I started my diet and didn't stop til I'd lost 90 pounds. It took me exactly 2 years to lose 90 pounds and to regain 102 pounds. I realized I CAN lose weight on my own, but I can NOT keep it off. I HAVE to be on a diet at all times. If I'm eating more than 800-900 calories a day, I'm not losing weight. I see know-it-alls on Reddit all the time telling fat people that it's "simple science, calories in vs calories out." Well I'm here to tell you that I can eat 1200 well-balanced calories, exercise, and not lose weight. And at 255 pounds, I should drop weight like crazy at 1200 calories, even without exercise.
SO....I've decided to get gastric sleeve surgery. And in classic ME fashion, I'm not doing it the regular way. You know, like talking to a doctor, going through a year of psychological and medical testing, getting insurance approval. BOR-ING. No, I'm going to Mexico, alone, and getting sleeved for $4900 with exactly one month's time between my initial phone consult and surgery day.
I would never do this without some reassurance that this place and this surgeon are not back alley psychos. I have two great friends who have already been sleeved at this place, and the clinic and surgeon have the same accreditation as the top US bariatric facilities. The surgeon is a designated "master surgeon" for number of surgeries performed without complications. So I feel like I'm in good hands. As for being alone...my top two worries are just being really emotional when I wake up in pain. And, you know, dying...alone...in Tijuana.
I don't feel comfortable telling anyone where I'm going and what I'm doing. There's enough stigma with gastric surgery, and then add the idea of going to Mexico to have it done. I'm going through quite enough mentally at the moment without getting outside opinions on my poor decision-making skills. My mom knows, even though I didn't want to tell her. She didn't take it well, and I wish I had stuck with the OG plan of telling her when I got home. A couple of friends know. But everyone else thinks I'm having my gallbladder out. I had to come up with some logical reason of why I'm on a 14-day liquid diet for pre-op. I just don't need my co-workers to have this information. I work with a couple of real b-holes.
So the saga continues....I'm on day 3 of all liquids. Day one was depressing. Day two I pooped in my pants. And today, I feel ok. I can do this. I mean this blog all started with weeks of only drinking juice and I survived that. At least this time I can have soup and smoothies. If I had to drink mean green juice for 14 days I'd cancel the whole thing and use the money to go to Thailand to feed baby elephants.
But for now, I'm the baby elephant, and I'm going to see this crazy idea through. It's going to be really hard, and also really exciting. And if you're willing to go on another journey with me, I'll tell you everything you never wanted to know about Mexican gastric sleeve surgery from start to finish.
Back in 2014 when I kicked B and took names on my diet, it all started with a conversation with a friend who was talking about gastric bypass surgery. I said I had to find out one last time if I could do this on my own before resorting to that. And I did! I started my diet and didn't stop til I'd lost 90 pounds. It took me exactly 2 years to lose 90 pounds and to regain 102 pounds. I realized I CAN lose weight on my own, but I can NOT keep it off. I HAVE to be on a diet at all times. If I'm eating more than 800-900 calories a day, I'm not losing weight. I see know-it-alls on Reddit all the time telling fat people that it's "simple science, calories in vs calories out." Well I'm here to tell you that I can eat 1200 well-balanced calories, exercise, and not lose weight. And at 255 pounds, I should drop weight like crazy at 1200 calories, even without exercise.
SO....I've decided to get gastric sleeve surgery. And in classic ME fashion, I'm not doing it the regular way. You know, like talking to a doctor, going through a year of psychological and medical testing, getting insurance approval. BOR-ING. No, I'm going to Mexico, alone, and getting sleeved for $4900 with exactly one month's time between my initial phone consult and surgery day.
I would never do this without some reassurance that this place and this surgeon are not back alley psychos. I have two great friends who have already been sleeved at this place, and the clinic and surgeon have the same accreditation as the top US bariatric facilities. The surgeon is a designated "master surgeon" for number of surgeries performed without complications. So I feel like I'm in good hands. As for being alone...my top two worries are just being really emotional when I wake up in pain. And, you know, dying...alone...in Tijuana.
I don't feel comfortable telling anyone where I'm going and what I'm doing. There's enough stigma with gastric surgery, and then add the idea of going to Mexico to have it done. I'm going through quite enough mentally at the moment without getting outside opinions on my poor decision-making skills. My mom knows, even though I didn't want to tell her. She didn't take it well, and I wish I had stuck with the OG plan of telling her when I got home. A couple of friends know. But everyone else thinks I'm having my gallbladder out. I had to come up with some logical reason of why I'm on a 14-day liquid diet for pre-op. I just don't need my co-workers to have this information. I work with a couple of real b-holes.
So the saga continues....I'm on day 3 of all liquids. Day one was depressing. Day two I pooped in my pants. And today, I feel ok. I can do this. I mean this blog all started with weeks of only drinking juice and I survived that. At least this time I can have soup and smoothies. If I had to drink mean green juice for 14 days I'd cancel the whole thing and use the money to go to Thailand to feed baby elephants.
But for now, I'm the baby elephant, and I'm going to see this crazy idea through. It's going to be really hard, and also really exciting. And if you're willing to go on another journey with me, I'll tell you everything you never wanted to know about Mexican gastric sleeve surgery from start to finish.
Sunday, April 8, 2018
Fat, Fat, Wind pants, Fat.
Back in the 90's a friend was describing the guys at his college. "They're all like frat, frat, wind pants, frat." Which lead to me and my friend Sarah describing ourselves as "fat, fat, wind pants, fat." And today I'm here to tell you that I am full-blown wind pants fat again.
I mean what else would I have been doing over the past 3 years? If I'd spent it getting skinny I'd have been here acting all authoritative and inspiring, giving everyone homework assignments to motivate you to be as happy and fit as ME ME ME! But instead I've been eating my weight in Reese's Cups monthly, making a charitable contribution to not one but TWO gyms that I never visit, letting the basement treadmill belt crumble from non-use, and so on.
Despite a few short-term successful efforts to lose a few pounds, I soared up to my highest-ever weight before I stepped on the scale on January 2nd, 2018. All 90-ish pounds I lost in 2013-14 came back, and they brought 12 new friends. And they were accompanied by stage II hypertension, back and joint pain, and some other unpleasant symptoms of fatness I'm unwilling to disclose. Even my super emergency fat clothes didn't fit anymore. The once roomy 2X's gave way for new 3X's. For the first time in my life, I honestly was afraid I was going to die.
I experienced the joy of vertigo in late 2017 which lead me to Statcare…my first doctor's visit in several years. They told me my BP was 164 over 100 and that I should see my regular doctor about it. Buttttt….I didn't have a regular doctor. And I was really embarrassed to walk into one this fat and with my brain ready to blow up at any moment. Day and night I worried about having a stroke or a heart attack. I knew I had to get it under control or see a doctor soon. But fall became winter, which became Christmas…and THAT seemed like a dumb time to save my life. There were cookies to be eaten, for crap's sake. But by January, I was ready.
On the morning of the 2nd I weighed myself, and that evening I had my BP tested. 163/98. Early Stage II on top, late Stage I on the bottom. Yep, I was a time bomb. I'd talked myself into thinking maybe it was just high at Statcare from stress and fear, not the 120 extra pounds I was carrying and the cheeseburger/fries habit I'd developed for brunch each day.
I went back to the only plan I've ever had long-term success with - low carb. I hate to call it Atkins or Keto because it's not necessarily either of those things, by-the-book. I try to stay around 20 net carbs a day, and I try to keep my fat high, my protein moderate, and my calories under 1200. I'm not like the Atkins people who can eat 3000 calories of beefy cheesy bacon bake….and I'm not a keto person who can drink buttery coffee and track incremental percentages and macros all day. I have to keep my calories low, and those calories have to be low-carb. Yes, I'm so fat, fat, wind pants, fat that I have to be on two diets at the same time.
But, it works. It's working. I've barely incorporated exercise yet. I WANT to run again but when I tried in February it killed my shins and ankles. I've gone to a couple of zumba and water aerobics classes. I bought a Sweatin' to the Oldies DVD, my 90's go-to workout that now feels unbearably long after the era of HIIT 20-minute boot camp workouts. But I'm not even exercising twice a week most weeks, other than walking the dog a mile every day.
Anyway, I'm down 32 pounds since January 2nd. My BP has dropped to 142/81. That's early stage I on the top, early pre-hypertension on the bottom. Not too far from normal-ish ranges. I'm ready to find a doctor and go get everything checked out. Maybe ask if I should be on a med for awhile or if it's ok to keep trying to do this myself. I don't feel like a bomb is ready to go off in my head anymore, which is reassuring. But I'd probably benefit from a real medical opinion and some bloodwork.
But man, I'm 40…this is the age where people start getting bad news. I know bad things happen whether you find out about them or not. But holy mammograms, I'm terrified to go. I know it's the wrong attitude, I'm working on it.
I went on a two week vacation to Hawaii and gained 8 pounds. I got right back on my plan when I got home and I lost 12 pounds in two weeks. Over Easter I gave myself a 3-day vacation from my diet, and I gained SEVEN pounds (THREE DAYS!), but I took off 9 pounds in the week after. I don't remember any point in my past when I was so easily persuaded back onto my diet after a break. Part of my motivation is Healthy Wager. It's a website where you can bet on yourself to lose weight. In fairness, they are essentially betting that you will lose, but they put a positive spin on it. You throw money into a wager every month and they figure out a payout based on how much you pledge to lose in a certain amount of time. If you fail, they keep everything. If you succeed, you win big. I have $1400 on the line, and the weigh-out day is the day before I leave for Cancun. So if I can peel off another 50 pounds by November, my trip will be paid for, courtesy of my fat. If I don't…I'm out $300.
Along the way you can do little group challenges. I just completed a 3-month, 6% weightless challenge and won $66. It seriously motivated me, so I just turned that money back over for a new challenge.
I haven't gone back to TOPS. I was too embarrassed to go back so fat, even though I know they understand more than anyone. But I also feel like it might be discouraging for them to see it. I don't want anyone to think "why lose all of this weight, everyone just gains it all back eventually." I've heard they aren't as motivated as a group anymore, anyway.
Plus since I last wrote, I was promoted to the top of my company, and it's not so easy for me to leave work early on Mondays to get to meetings. And I have a big, sweet, fluffy dog who I'd rather spend my evenings with. So I think the Healthy Wager thing has become my TOPS. Let's face it, I was in it for the prizes more than anything anyway.
I realize I'm writing this blog into the air. The few who followed have long faded-away, and I'm not brave enough to post a link for people who actually know me in real life. But last night I found this old blog and read some posts, and it reminded me how much it helped me to vent my frustrations and rejoice over my successes. So this is for me, my therapy. But if you have stumbled into it and you get some small amount of support or enjoyment from it…then I'm happy you're here.
Hopefully I'll keep this train rolling right back toward the world of normal clothes and fitting onto roller coasters and not having my thighs make a swishy sound when I walk in my Spanx.
Welcome back.
I mean what else would I have been doing over the past 3 years? If I'd spent it getting skinny I'd have been here acting all authoritative and inspiring, giving everyone homework assignments to motivate you to be as happy and fit as ME ME ME! But instead I've been eating my weight in Reese's Cups monthly, making a charitable contribution to not one but TWO gyms that I never visit, letting the basement treadmill belt crumble from non-use, and so on.
Despite a few short-term successful efforts to lose a few pounds, I soared up to my highest-ever weight before I stepped on the scale on January 2nd, 2018. All 90-ish pounds I lost in 2013-14 came back, and they brought 12 new friends. And they were accompanied by stage II hypertension, back and joint pain, and some other unpleasant symptoms of fatness I'm unwilling to disclose. Even my super emergency fat clothes didn't fit anymore. The once roomy 2X's gave way for new 3X's. For the first time in my life, I honestly was afraid I was going to die.
I experienced the joy of vertigo in late 2017 which lead me to Statcare…my first doctor's visit in several years. They told me my BP was 164 over 100 and that I should see my regular doctor about it. Buttttt….I didn't have a regular doctor. And I was really embarrassed to walk into one this fat and with my brain ready to blow up at any moment. Day and night I worried about having a stroke or a heart attack. I knew I had to get it under control or see a doctor soon. But fall became winter, which became Christmas…and THAT seemed like a dumb time to save my life. There were cookies to be eaten, for crap's sake. But by January, I was ready.
On the morning of the 2nd I weighed myself, and that evening I had my BP tested. 163/98. Early Stage II on top, late Stage I on the bottom. Yep, I was a time bomb. I'd talked myself into thinking maybe it was just high at Statcare from stress and fear, not the 120 extra pounds I was carrying and the cheeseburger/fries habit I'd developed for brunch each day.
I went back to the only plan I've ever had long-term success with - low carb. I hate to call it Atkins or Keto because it's not necessarily either of those things, by-the-book. I try to stay around 20 net carbs a day, and I try to keep my fat high, my protein moderate, and my calories under 1200. I'm not like the Atkins people who can eat 3000 calories of beefy cheesy bacon bake….and I'm not a keto person who can drink buttery coffee and track incremental percentages and macros all day. I have to keep my calories low, and those calories have to be low-carb. Yes, I'm so fat, fat, wind pants, fat that I have to be on two diets at the same time.
But, it works. It's working. I've barely incorporated exercise yet. I WANT to run again but when I tried in February it killed my shins and ankles. I've gone to a couple of zumba and water aerobics classes. I bought a Sweatin' to the Oldies DVD, my 90's go-to workout that now feels unbearably long after the era of HIIT 20-minute boot camp workouts. But I'm not even exercising twice a week most weeks, other than walking the dog a mile every day.
Anyway, I'm down 32 pounds since January 2nd. My BP has dropped to 142/81. That's early stage I on the top, early pre-hypertension on the bottom. Not too far from normal-ish ranges. I'm ready to find a doctor and go get everything checked out. Maybe ask if I should be on a med for awhile or if it's ok to keep trying to do this myself. I don't feel like a bomb is ready to go off in my head anymore, which is reassuring. But I'd probably benefit from a real medical opinion and some bloodwork.
But man, I'm 40…this is the age where people start getting bad news. I know bad things happen whether you find out about them or not. But holy mammograms, I'm terrified to go. I know it's the wrong attitude, I'm working on it.
I went on a two week vacation to Hawaii and gained 8 pounds. I got right back on my plan when I got home and I lost 12 pounds in two weeks. Over Easter I gave myself a 3-day vacation from my diet, and I gained SEVEN pounds (THREE DAYS!), but I took off 9 pounds in the week after. I don't remember any point in my past when I was so easily persuaded back onto my diet after a break. Part of my motivation is Healthy Wager. It's a website where you can bet on yourself to lose weight. In fairness, they are essentially betting that you will lose, but they put a positive spin on it. You throw money into a wager every month and they figure out a payout based on how much you pledge to lose in a certain amount of time. If you fail, they keep everything. If you succeed, you win big. I have $1400 on the line, and the weigh-out day is the day before I leave for Cancun. So if I can peel off another 50 pounds by November, my trip will be paid for, courtesy of my fat. If I don't…I'm out $300.
Along the way you can do little group challenges. I just completed a 3-month, 6% weightless challenge and won $66. It seriously motivated me, so I just turned that money back over for a new challenge.
I haven't gone back to TOPS. I was too embarrassed to go back so fat, even though I know they understand more than anyone. But I also feel like it might be discouraging for them to see it. I don't want anyone to think "why lose all of this weight, everyone just gains it all back eventually." I've heard they aren't as motivated as a group anymore, anyway.
Plus since I last wrote, I was promoted to the top of my company, and it's not so easy for me to leave work early on Mondays to get to meetings. And I have a big, sweet, fluffy dog who I'd rather spend my evenings with. So I think the Healthy Wager thing has become my TOPS. Let's face it, I was in it for the prizes more than anything anyway.
I realize I'm writing this blog into the air. The few who followed have long faded-away, and I'm not brave enough to post a link for people who actually know me in real life. But last night I found this old blog and read some posts, and it reminded me how much it helped me to vent my frustrations and rejoice over my successes. So this is for me, my therapy. But if you have stumbled into it and you get some small amount of support or enjoyment from it…then I'm happy you're here.
Hopefully I'll keep this train rolling right back toward the world of normal clothes and fitting onto roller coasters and not having my thighs make a swishy sound when I walk in my Spanx.
Welcome back.
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