Super Inspired Writer

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Look SUPER. Feel SUPER. Choose SUPER. Be SUPER.

Sunday, September 29

This time...

We joined a gym! I’m actually pretty excited about this because not only is it awesome health wise but also because I have always wanted to be that family with a gym membership.  You know what I’m talking about, that family that owns attractive athletic clothing and actually looks forward to spending a beautiful Sunday together sculpting themselves. So far, I have already gone twice and used the track and my legs are really feeling the burn. I am still using the 5K Runner app and slowly adding in jogging to my routine, and each time I feel like jogging is becoming just a little bit easier.  By easier I mean that I can complete one lap without stopping, which is 1/9 of a mile. But it’s something. By spring I hope to jog a full 5K. The new me knows I can do it but the old me who is still whispering in my ear is laughing and saying it’s ridiculous. Why do I continue to doubt myself? Because it’s all I know.

Prime example. I also took my ring in to get sized this weekend. First let me preface by saying that my wedding set has been sized no less than 5 times in 11 years. I’m not even joking. In fact, the bottom where the three pieces were soldered together was getting so jacked-up that they had to cut the entire bottom of the ring off and make a new shank for it. I would get the ring sized down when I would lose weight, which would never last for long, then wait until it was cutting off my goddamned circulation before I went back in to get it sized up again.  As I yo-yo’d up and down, my ring yo-yo’d with me. When I went in this time, I had the same anxiety as always when I sized it down, wondering if I should even bother since I would just be back in six months to size is up again. I still constantly doubt myself when it comes to maintaining my new life. But here is where the hope sets in that no I won’t be back because no this time I won’t gain the weight back. It is OK to size my ring down because YES it will still fit by my birthday.

Sure, does it freak me out that statistically as with any weight loss, surgery guided or otherwise, that people can and do gain their weight back?? Yes of course, I know that just because I am banded doesn’t mean that I can’t slip off the wagon. But I also know that those that slip are those that stop going to maintenance appointments, or start drinking calories, or just stop being committed in general.

In MY delusions of grandeur I will be the Lap-Band poster child on every bariatric surgeon’s wall. I really have no choice but to think that way. I just have to. I have to get my ring sized confidently and believe that this time it will stay small. I have to join the neighborhood gym and believe that this time I will actually use every dollar toward my membership by working out. I have to hush that whispering voice and tell it this time will be different, because…after all… I am different this time.

And my family belongs to a gym. =)

Monday, September 23

PB

It happened. And when I started to write this blog I promised you the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help me God. Because of that I have to lay it out there. I have to tell you honestly about the good, the bad, and the ugly of having Lap-Band surgery. So here it is. And it’s gross. So if you really want to know the reality of this decision read on but if you are only following my blog to encourage me on my journey I give you a pass on this one.

It happened on Sunday, specifically. I was cranky and tired, aggravated with everyone in my path for no legitimate reason, and that all lead to a bad choice and I snuck my son’s leftover pizza crust. It wasn’t something I hadn’t eaten before so I took no precaution with a big bite and swallowed it. It wasn’t long before I felt the pain. I had tightness in my chest, almost like when you had to run the mile in gym class and felt like you were going to die afterwards. Oh, and also a shooting sharp pain in the left shoulder, a phantom pain, because apparently there are no real pain sensors where the actual esophagus is in trauma, so your brain then sends a pain to your shoulder. Weird science, I know.

This, my readers is what you call a “stuck episode” or “being stuck” in our community’s vernacular. I had felt this feeling only once or twice before in six months, but I didn’t’ realize what it was at the time. After walking around my house a few times while wind-milling my arms around, it had gone away, which meant the foreign object stuck in my stoma (the space created by the band between the two stomach pouches) had gone down or dissolved enough to become unstuck. This time was different; I started to feel a gagging in the back of my throat and excused myself into the bathroom. That’s when I started to burp out what was choking me, but I wasn’t really choking of course because I had plenty of air. You can talk and breathe and what have you but you are still goddamned choking. I kept burping and burping nothing until eventually I coughed up a golf-ball size slime ball. That’s it, very anti-climactic. A few more burps and up came a second one. And then I was done and felt completely normal again.

It was my first PB (“productive burp”) and something that is sure as shit for someone who is considering the lap-band procedure. We are taught about it but until it actually happens, you aren’t’ t sure what to expect. We are also taught to let the stomach rest after that because getting stuck again only makes matters worse, so for the rest of the day I ate sliders, like stuffed shells and potato salad.


I had my support group session tonight and we talked and laughed about it. It sucked for me, but it made me realize a few things. For starters I really have a band. Without the physical reminders it is too easy to slip into poor choices. Secondly, I realized that even if I have to hawk a loogie every couple of days, it sure as hell beats being fat. Lastly, I realized I got this. I can do this. And I am NOT going to be sneaking any more pizza crusts in the future.

Tuesday, September 17

Leg Work

The NSVs just keep on coming. The universe is consistently reminding me that I did the right thing by having weight loss surgery. Here are just a few new examples from the past week. I wore a sweatshirt under a jacket and it zipped just fine. I walked up 63 rows of bleachers at the NASCAR race and could still recite the preamble. I was able to hold myself up while peeing in the grass while tailgating. That long awaited accomplishment in it’s own brought a tear to my eyes. I now have not one but two pairs of tall boots I can wear and …wait for it….a new collection of LEGGINGS for underneath. Yep, she's got LEGS. (and you just sang that in your head in a ZZTops voice!)

I have never ever had nice legs. Now, I’m sure you are thinking does anybody like anything on their body?? But I do, like my nice strait teeth.  But if I had to actually list the parts of my body from 10= likes best to 1 = likes least my legs are in the bottom half of that list. They have never been a good shape, just too squatty, and even when I have been thinner my thighs make up for what I lack in hips.

So why am I shopping for tunics and leggings?? Well, because I am in that in-between phase where my lowest size in my closet is starting to not fit well anymore. To put it blankly, my pants are sagging under my ass. I figure if I invest in some leggings they will take me through the next phase of my weight loss.  And because I am magic marker shaped I look just fine from the front or the back, it’s sideways that is a problem. Leggings are more flattering than skinny jeans in my opinion because since I would only wear them under a sweater dress or long fleece there is no bulk at the waist like with skinnies. My only fear is that the patterns don’t get stretched out to indiscernible proportions.

But I just don’t care as much anymore.  I look so much better than I did that even if I am still too fat for some fashions all people seem to see is the new me. Every day I am approached by someone who notices my progress. Let’s face it, it’s impossible not to. And even though I find it hysterical that no one seems to know what to say to me, I am flattered by these compliments…and motivated.


Now if only I could find time to jog. It’s been a good week since I hit the pavement and I can tell already. I need to get back on track with that…literally….and who knows, maybe with all the lower body cardio I will get my legs higher up that list eventually.

Tuesday, September 10

Smash Up

It was a long ass day. Because I had to take my daughter for her first set of dental sealants, I decided to make my Bariatric appointment on the same day so that I could kill two birds with one substitute. When I woke up I discovered my raging case of pinkeye from last week developed into a horrible sinus infection (or vice versa) and had to squeeze that one in today too. It was a day spent in waiting room hell.

At my Bariatric appointment I asked for another fill. They were impressed that I lost 8 lbs. in the six weeks since I had been there, but I assured them that was because I have been DIETING and that I could still eat way too much if I wanted to. In fact, for lunch I ate a whole slice of cheese pizza at the mall food court and then a few bites of my daughters chicken tenders with no ill effects. I allowed myself to do this of course because I knew I was going in for a fill anyways and would be on liquid the rest of the day.  They agreed to the fill and I got shot with ½ cc (or ½ ml). Even though that doesn’t sound like a lot, the surgeon said even that little amount can really feel different and some patients who are too full have had a hard time swallowing their spit even after such a small fill. I passed the Dixie cup test after so I am good to go, liquids the rest of the day, mushies the next, chopped diet to follow.

When he asked if I had any questions, I had one important one. How and when do I get my tummy tuck?? He just laughed and said about 9/10 patients that want cosmetic or reconstructive surgery do have to pay out of pocket and if I am interested in that surgery A. I need to be about two years out from my lap-band procedure, and B. I can start a flex spending account with my husband’s medical benefits VISA.  I was content with that answer. I mean, I am in no means as pouchy as some weight-loss surgery patients, mostly because of my low starting BMI because I took care of my problem early, but let’s just say I won’t be wearing a non-skirted bathing suit bottom any time soon.  Two years puts me at Spring Break 2015, and in fact I already have two big beachy/bathing suit events planned for that summer so we shall see!


I then went to my internal medicine doctor to get a damn z-pack so I can start breathing again. It is crazy to me that each time I go in for a prescription and tell them point blank that I have a gastric band and that I need a Rx that I can smash, they look at me like I’m crazy. This one even went as far as to make a yuck face and tell me that smashing my pills must taste terrible.  Yes it does, but I don’t have a choice unless I want to clog my fucking esophagus with antibiotics. I wish those goddamned computers they have now would have a flashing message when they log me in that says..PATIENT IS BANDED WHICH MEANS SHE HAS A NUSE AROUND HER STOMACH. The only thing worse than having to be on liquids the night after a fill is to have to smash pills into a sugar free pudding for dinner and want to gag on that bitter shit. But I did it, because that’s exactly what I signed up for.

Thursday, September 5

Ten Things Thursday

1.     Today I attended a curriculum night for one of my buildings where I teach music and some of the classrooms had as little as ONE family in attendance. Make no mistake that schools are struggling to stay afloat because parents just don’t give a rat’s furry ass anymore and NOT because the teacher’s aren’t doing their jobs.
2.     There were some definite hits and misses on the diet this week. I hit a huge milestone and was maybe a tad more relaxed than I should be with my calorie counting. I see my chips addiction loud and clear and need to make some major changes in our household. If my husband was a recovering alcoholic I would definitely not keep liquor around so why am I still buying party sized bags of chips for my family when I cannot resist them? It’s no longer a matter of willpower but a matter of keeping them out of the house.
3.     The kids are loving first and third grade. We have finally found our grove and our mornings are running very smoothly as well now that I put a new smack down on our routine. We are all creatures of routine. No more lounging on the couch before school and a second set of toothbrushes and toothpaste in the downstairs bathroom has been a lifesaver!!
4.     The outfits for the family photo-shoot are starting to come together but I am having a hell of a time finding exactly what I want. I did find a black cardigan sweater at Forever 21 that covers my ass so it’s possible I just need a tunic and I can wear my new print leggings with my black boots. Life was so much easier when I wore a 5T like my daughter. Like something on a hanger at the store? Buy it in your size and voila! It fits!
5.     I’m starting to get lazy with my CRAP machine. I am waking up early in the morning and I don’t know if it’s because my complexion is oily but it isn’t sitting right on my face so I just take it off.  Or even worse I am super tired at night and don’t even take the effort to reach over and strap it on. The over-achiever in me is a little concerned that I will get my hand slapped when I go back to the pulmonologist in November but I am still feeling good so maybe I can wean off the damn thing after all.
6.     Every day this week I have packed a lunch and have gone home to pick it up at lunchtime. It is way to hot still for it to sit in my car and even my Pack-it lunch bag will melt from the rays. Being organized and planning ahead has really helped me this week from binging or getting fast food at lunch. Plus, let’s be honest, having to go home for my lunch also forces me to not pass by the McD’s.
7.     I am starting to feel anxiety because my husband has to travel for work. Travelling for work really means drinking and playing golf. Oh yeah, in a college town one of the first weekends of school. Back off sorority girls, this one is taken.
8.     What is it about pounding pizza dough that is so damn therapeutic??
9.     I have not jogged in two days and I have to say…………I miss it. Yep, it’s true, I feel sore as hell after but I feel amazing also. Just when I think I can’t go on, my robot friend has my back.

10. I am getting over Pink-eye and I have had to wear my glasses every day this week which SUCKS. No offence glasses wearers but I don’t know how you do it. My face feels sticky and warm and I feel dumpy and very unsexy. I’m vain, and that sucks too.