Super Inspired Writer

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Sunday, July 27

Expectations

I’m feeling very philosophical this week, and that may or may not be for any reason, and that reason is neither here nor there, but I am thinking about my wedding day and how it was the one single day in my whole life that I felt absolutely beautiful. As the big 12 approaches next weekend, I am thinking that if I could just go back in time, before I ruined my body with life, I would take better care of myself from day one. I would make sure that down the road there would be no need to undo any damage.

I would be happy with myself and not critical.

I would eat to live and not live to eat.

I would start jogging in my then twenty-something body and not wait until my mid-thirties.

I would be healthier through my pregnancies.

I wouldn’t waste money and carbs on fast-food and restaurants.

But all of this is retrospective because unless you drag your feet through some mud you can’t look back and realize how lucky you were.

12 years later my body has been to hell and back, a few times over, and all I want more than anything on this God green earth is to have that moment back, that body back, so that I could cherish it and not treat it like trash.

Modern interventions help with that, but it would have been nice to not get out of control in the first place. To never have gotten to the point where I needed weight-loss surgery.

But maybe no matter what I would have done that would have still happened because this is my path and I believe in faith. I believe that I was brought to this journey for all the friends I have made along the way, for the way I educate those in my support group, the way I now see the world and what is.


And I wouldn’t change a thing.

Saturday, July 26

Shedding Baggage

We all have baggage to shed. For some of us it’s emotional turmoil from long ago, or fair-weather friends, or fair-weather enemies. For me, my body has always been an enemy to me. I started this blog so that I could document all of my feelings, the good, the bad the ugly. And here I am now writing for this blog for TWO years this month. Even though I have been dedicated to the changes, I couldn’t have predicted things to be where they are. Statistically, I should be struggling more, or relapsing more. My surgeon made it clear that because I chose the least invasive surgery, I would have the least successful odds. But that’s all they are ODDS. And I am beating them.

I am beating the physical baggage, but my head is still all over the place. That is the one thing that science has yet to be able to change, and that is your thinking.

I wore my two-piece bathing suit to our neighbor hood pool this past week and of course since it was a gorgeous day, everyone in creation that I knew were there. The whole time I’m thinking, they are looking at my belly, my belly is out in the open for the world to see. And I have a tattoo so certainly it draws attention to my mid-section.

I was asked by another mom friend if I felt “confident.” She is thinking of wearing a two piece on her next vacation and is worried she’ll be self conscious. Of course I said go for it. It’s a step toward accepting yourself for who you are. Even if you don’t quite yet. Or ever will.

I pulled the short straw in the body raffle.


But everything in life is choices. You can choose to carry the bags you have been given, or trade them in for smaller, lighter bags. Or you can chose to hide them away. But unfortunately I don’t believe for a damn that they will ever be gone forever. You are always left with a scar of some sort to remind you where you have been. For me it’s several scars that I see every day.  But a decade of body baggage is gone. Out of sight but not out of mind.

Sunday, July 20

Body Con

Recently, my family and I went on our first Disney Vacation in Fl. My husband and I had gone back in college when we were dating, on a tour bus filled with singers, dancers, and musicians to perform on the Magic Music Days stage in Epcot. We then enjoyed a backstage tour with two cast-members from one of their review shows along with some question and answer sessions in case we ever wanted to work there. Yep, that’s what Glee Club looks like when you are 20, but this time I was an adult, with kids in tow, and a backpack-purse.

We went on every ride, some twice, met ALL of the characters and princesses, ate in Castles, and enjoyed every Mickey Mouse shaped delicacy in the vicinity. The ship had it’s share of trying moments, from my ER trip before we left, to my daughter puking in a Jewel bag in the backseat, to my son pissing in a Gatorade bottle in the backseat. But all in all, it was our best vacation ever, and worth every hard earned penny and hard burned off calorie we spent. ( I only gained 5 lbs all week!! Whoo Hoo!!)

And then there was the day we went to the water park. The last time I was at a water park like that, a huge themed one with lazy river and huge ass slides and attractions was…you guessed it…Wisconsin Dells 2012 when I decided to have weight loss surgery. In my swim-burka I nearly drowned in 3 feet of water and decided to change my life. And I did.

Confident Bikini Stranger
So here I was, in a two-piece this time, and before the cover up came off I was self-conscious. No amount of weight loss or body contouring can change some things and I felt like I was under scrutiny. By who I don’t even know. But even in a bikini TOP with a FULL SKIRT bottom almost to my knees I hid behind a child or two when I took a picture.  Until that is I had my second Aha-Water-Park moment. Which was this…


That’s right, I am posting someone with an ass three times the size of mine in an animal print string bikini bottom. Your first reaction might be asking why I took such a rude and obscene picture. Because when I first saw this confident swimmer, I through….really?....I am self-conscious in my bathing suit, after working my ass off to lose 85 lbs, after running mile after mile….and this person (pretty sure they were vacationing from South America, which actually explains a lot in this scene) just shows up and rocks this look without giving a fuck.

Yep.

So I decided to cut myself just a little slack. I still have A LOT of baggage to shed, emotionally, figuratively, and physically (working on that piece as we speak), but I am going to try my damndest to be a little prouder of myself. A little more confident in myself. To not care so much what other people think I look like in the pool….because this time I’m not only in the pool but I am stronger and leaner and can actually SWIM. And that’s all that matters.

So leopard bikini lady, thank you. Thank you for not caring about what other people think and just having fun with your family. Thank you for taking a stand for women that we don’t have to have a certain body type to be happy. Thank you for once again putting all of my hard work in perspective.


And thank you for motivating me to drink shakes until that 5 lbs vacation gain was history…..

Tuesday, July 1

Happy (CRAPpy) July

This blog post is nothing but CRAPpy because it has to do with my CRAP machine.
(CPAP)
Today I had booked myself a double appointment at the hospital to get a kill two birds with one stone outing. My first appointment was with pulmonary and my second was my surgical maintenance.

At pulmonary I see a Nurse Practitioner and have to bring in the memory card from my CRAP machine I sleep with every night, the third party in my marriage. I was hopeful that there would be a change, because I have been busting my ass and because all of my other numbers have been great ie. blood pressure.

Sadly, there are no changes to be made because there are no changes with my sleep apnea. My machine started at a steady setting of 9, then was changed to a variable setting of 5-9 in the hopes that I could start weaning, but the memory card showed that I am still needing between 5-9 whatever measurement of air pressure through the night. So it is staying put. She said she didn’t even need to see me for another YEAR unless there was a major weight change or health history change and at that point I can request a sleep study if I want one. Um okay. Why go through all of that when clearly my sleep apnea appears to be more genetic than weight related? I\It seems as though it was just because of the weight loss surgery requirement that we caught it all at.

I know people have FAR more important problems in their life but I would be lying if I didn’t say I was a little disappointed. I had already told myself not to have my hopes up that I would be kicking my sleep machine to the curb in the near future…but still, I was hoping for a miracle or a least a pleasant surprise.

So what do I do? Decide to hit the cafeteria for lunch and stumble upon a taco salad bar. If you ever have the distinct pleasure of visiting our hospital one day, it really is a high-class joint. The food is amazing, and ironically enough not really health centered which means it tastes phenomenal. I decide against the huge fried taco bowl, but I grab a bag of baked Doritos and a diet Pepsi just because I’m pissed and I can. All I had eaten thus far was the splenda in my morning Joe so I figured there was no point in starving now. I already knew I was going into my next appointment a few lbs heavier than I had been all week because I had too much salt and not enough movement for one goddamned night. I was hoping the two huge capfuls of miralax would have solved this problem but it didn’t. Weight is funny that way.


I don’t even drink the Pepsi of course after a sip because the carbonation feels gross and I dump it. When I get to my surgeon’s office, I find out according to their biggest looser scale, in kilograms,  that I have lost 3 pounds in 3 months. But I didn’t gain so they were thrilled as fuck with my progress. Going as far as to say I am the poster child for Lap-Band surgery and that I have accomplished much more than the majority of their patients. Blah, blah, tell that to my CRAP machine.