Confession

Last Thursday, I went to the doctor again.  I got to see "my" doctor.  Somewhere along the line, I thought I wanted to switch to another doctor in the practice.  However, after meeting with my doctor again, I realized I don't.  She seems to understand me.  It also helps that her mom has had WLS so she's not completely new to the whole restriction/malabsorption game.  She doesn't deal with it as much as my surgeon, but she's willing to listen to my rules/restrictions.

According to their scale, I gained about 2 pounds.  Normal, right?  Ha.  How little you know me.  Those two pounds were a HUGE disappointment to me.  I'd worked my tail off for two weeks.  The first week I was an emotional mess and lost five pounds.  I melted down (horrible, sobbing, hysterical melt down...not just a little one) that Thursday and by my appointment a week later I'd regained 7 pounds!?  Argh!

She told me that I should be gaining about a half a pound a week.  Once she checked the baby out (he's fine, btw...measuring perfectly) she asked if I had any more questions.  Nope!  I'm good, see ya in two weeks.

Fortunately, I had SS with me and he's always very good about asking questions.  "Hang on a minute, I'd like to talk about her eating and her food.  You know now that you've said she should be gaining half a pound a week, you've given her a goal, right?  She'll panic if she goes above that goal. "

My doctor pulled out her little doctor stool and sat down.

Sigh.  Even SHE knew this was going to take a while.

SS laid out his concerns.  I've heard them all before.   We've talked about it since I got pregnant.  He's concerned about the obsessive weighing, the self-imposed restrictions if the scale goes up, etc, etc.  In my mind, I know it's not "right"...but I still do it.

My doctor basically looked at me and said, "While your OCD was good when you had the surgery, right now, it's working against you.  You're in the beginning stages of an eating disorder..."

Whoa.  That is a scary word. Honestly, I didn't hear much that she said after I heard the word "eating disorder."  I spent the rest of the appointment trying not to cry.  SS says I shut down, but I didn't!  I swear, I listened.  I just focused on things to make myself stop crying.

She gave us both some good ideas and suggestions and basically told SS to take my scale away.  He did that Monday morning when he caught me getting on the scale.   I haven't seen a scale since Monday and I've been tracking my food and staying within my calorie limits which is what my doctor recommended.  As much as I beg, SS won't let me have my scale back.  I'm glad he's stronger than me, because I don't know that I could resist without him.  I'm hoping NOT weighing in gets easier.  I just know I tend to go off the deep end when I don't weigh myself every day (see June's 10 pound weight gain).

 I've skimmed some articles and blog posts on eating disorders after WLS, but I never paid much attention.  Now as I read them, they scare me.  I see WAY too much of myself in those articles.  I know I am compulsive about food.  The surgery didn't fix that problem.  I don't just want one cookie, I want them all.  However, if I only see one cookie and only get one cookie, I'm ok with that.  I can't just walk by certain foods.

Sounds like I need to start my list of questions/concerns for my surgeon when we go see him in January.

Checking In

Yesterday was another doctor's appointment.  I've pretty much decided if we do this again, I don't think we'll use the same practice.  It's not that it's been a bad experience, I just don't feel like they "get" me.  My surgeon "gets" me.  My primary care physician "gets" me.  (Basically, "getting" me means that you realize I'm a bit neurotic, you embrace/accept my neuroticness, and you know how to essentially "talk me down."  I don't think I'm asking too much.  SS does it on a daily basis.)

Verdict:  Wombat is doing great, but me gaining 9 pounds, by my scale and 12 pounds, by their scale in 3 weeks is not so great.  Blood pressure was high (see #4 below) and blood sugar levels were GREAT.

Okay, here's my rationalizations...

#1 - My appointment before yesterday was at 8:30 in the morning.  I hadn't eaten anything or had anything to drink.  It's the lowest I was going to weigh all day.

#2 - Yesterday's appointment was at 4 o'clock in the afternoon.  I had no choice but to eat and drink before my appointment.  (The Wombat gets angry when he is denied food for extended periods of time.)

#3 - At the appointment before yesterday, I had only gained a pound.  I was due for a larger number.

#4 - My blood pressure was high because I knew I'd gained at least 10 pounds and I was worried about being reprimanded/"talked to" about it.  Plus, we had to play beat the clock to get there after school and I had to pee......again!

#5 - My blood sugar levels were delightful.  As a Type II diabetic in remission, seeing a fasting blood sugar level in the 60s is astounding.  (I used to hope for the 130s)

My frustration is this...for the last 3 weeks, I've watched my food like a hawk.  I was doing the blood glucose testing (because the glucola test, you know where you drink the super sweet kool-aid stuff, was just an absolute no).  So I tested my blood sugar four to five times a day.  Once when I woke up (fasting) and then two hours after eating.  Considering I eat at least four times a day, that's a lot of finger pricks.  My poor fingers.

But anyway, testing my blood.  I didn't not eat things I "shouldn't," but I tracked everything I ate, stayed under or very close to my 1,700 calories a day, avoided processed carbs, and drank all my water.  People, I was on my best behavior.  AND I STILL GAINED 10+ POUNDS!

It's enough to send my little weight loss surgery self right off a cliff!  I feel like I have no control.   NONE!  Before Wombat, hereafter referred to BW, I could control my weight.  If I gained a pound, I got my food in check and it went back down.  If I wanted to lose weight, I exercised.  Now?  I can do everything right and it doesn't do a damn bit of good.  It turns me into a hormonal, neurotic mess.

I've made my peace with gaining weight, but I don't want to gain too much and undo all the work I've done in the past two and half years.  I can feel myself slipping back into pre-surgery bad habits and it scares the heck out of me.  I desperately want to crack down on my food choices...can I safely cut out all my carbs (except fruit carbs) again and not hurt the Wombat?

The one consistent craving I've had is cookies.  The Wombat will work for cookies.  He's never met a cookie he didn't like.  Coincidentally, neither have I.  My plan for my last trimester (eek, when did THAT happen!?), is to cut out the cookies again.  Cookies are not our friend.  Repeat with me Wombat, cookies are not our friend!  (I'm so going to get kicked for that later.)

Don't tell her, but my mother is right.  I need to call my surgeon and ask for his advice.  He has faith in me that I don't have.  I've told you, he's an amazing man.  Of course, that involves a phone call.  I'm working up to it...

Meanwhile, check back soon for a 32 Before 32 update/recap.  Prepare to be disappointed!

What is wrong with people?

Seriously, what is wrong with people!?

Is it our society in general that is just unbelievably rude or is it just this town?

When I was growing up, if someone did something for you, you said thank you.  Yet, when I'm out in public and I thank someone for helping me/serving me/acknowledging me they seem honestly shocked.  Don't get me wrong, nine times out of ten I get a heartfelt you're welcome back, but the look of shock on their face surprises me.  I'm sorry.  My mother raised me right.  Manners and how we treated others were a big deal.  Heaven help my brother or I if we were rude to someone or didn't think of how our actions would make someone else feel.  Didn't everyone get that as a child?! 

Since when is it socially acceptable to be rude first and then when someone responds with kindness then you're polite.  What the hell!?

Case in point, yesterday was the first day of the spring rec season.  It rained Friday and the fields were wet, but instead of cancelling all of the games, SS decided to start off the season.  Mind you, we got up at 5:45 so that we could get to the fields before dawn.  That way, SS could walk the fields and make sure they were playable.  I went along to help out SS.  I spent my morning distributing shirts to new players and running the concession stand when needed.  I had fun, met new people and only rolled my eyes a few times.  ;)

For the first game, one field (out of 8) was a little wetter than we would like.  One of the coaches on the field came over and mentioned it to SS.  SS talked with the coach and they agreed to move the game to an adjacent field.  No problem.  As the coach left to get the kids together and notify the other coach, here comes Mama Moose.  "THESE FIELDS ARE HORRIBLE!  I'VE LOST MY FOOTING THREE TIMES ALREADY!  HOW DARE YOU PLAY THESE GAMES!?  IT'S NOT SAFE FOR THE CHILDREN!"

Ladies and gentlemen, this is why I love my husband.  He calmly and rationally diffused the situation (though, not before I managed to reply, "Well...then take your kid home." My mother would be livid if she knew I was snarky back to someone.  However, attacking my husband brings out the "Mama Moose" in me.).  The field weren't perfect, but it's February.  What do you expect?  Mama Moose stalked off to cheer for her little moose-let and so began our day.

Who does that!?

The coach of her child's team came over a few minutes later.  He was embarrassed and apologized for her behavior.  Not. his. job.  It's not his job to control a 40 year old woman.  I felt bad for the coach.  I wouldn't want to deal with that woman every single week.

People are rude first...and I live in the South, for crying out loud!  I thought Southerners were supposed to be the epitome of manners and social graces. 


Is it just me or have you noticed people being more rude lately?

Lock Down

SS has me on lock down.  For once, I'm not fighting him.  He very reasonably requested that I not run, try Zumba, or lift heavy things for a few weeks until I get some test results back from my appointments this week.  I think it's a huge sign of how much I love this man that I am listening.

If you know me you know that telling (or even sometimes asking) me not to do something is pretty much going to result in me doing just that.  I'm stubborn like that.  According to my mother, I get that from my father and my grandfather.  She's pretty darn stubborn too when it comes down to it.  Stubbornness is good when it makes you stick with something until you've accomplished your goal.  Stubbornness is NOT good when you dig in your heels about stupid stuff.

Being on lock down has made me really hungry.  I hate feeling "hungry."  It makes me feel out of control.  If you haven't realized, I hate being out of control.  I finally realized tonight, I'm not hungry.  I'm bored.  Normally, I keep pretty busy.  At work, at home, on the weekends, I'm constantly moving.  Throw in a load of laundry, make the bed, plan a lesson, vacuum the living room, chase the cat with said vacuum (just kidding), I'm constantly moving.  Sitting in bed stinks.  All I can do is make lists of things that need done, turn my brain to mush with television (currently watching the Glee movie - meh), or peruse Pinterest and pin lots of yummy looking recipes or ideas of stuff I want to do around the house.  Normally, when I get like this, I ban myself from the kitchen and find something active to do.  Run, Wii Fit, EA Active - something to distract me!

I'm in a good mood...I want to dance and jump around.  I can't.  Grrr....it's frustrating.  We're hoping to go to a movie this weekend, so I am really looking forward to getting out of the house.  Maybe I can talk him into frozen yogurt, too.  Big day!

For now, I am going to go back to "eating by the clock." 8, 11, 2, 5, and 8.  That's when I will eat.  I will measure out my food and when I'm done, if I'm still hungry.  Oh well. 

What are some things you do to distract yourself from thinking you're hungry?  Any ideas I can do on lock down?

Side show

I am very fortunate to have a loving and supportive family.  Not just my family, but SS's family as well.

Since I had my surgery, I've read about people who want to keep their surgery a secret.  While I respect their privacy, for me that just isn't an option.  There is no way anyone would believe I lost 180+ pounds in 18 months without some sort of help.  For those who have less to lose, it might be an option.  Not me. 

That being said, everyone in my life has been incredibly supportive...at least to my face.  I need the support quite frankly.  Having someone pop up with a compliment on a day when I just want to quit has saved me many times in the last few months.  The compliments have never upset me or made me aware of people looking at me.  Let them look!  I've worked really hard to get where I am and I am proud of myself (most days).  I'm always wishing I was doing better, but I've changed my life and that's something to recognize.  It's also helped me get better at taking compliments.  I still have a ways to go, but I feel less awkward about it.

Then we went home to see SS's family for Christmas.  Yeah.  It's been a while since we've been to his hometown.  We're not intentionally avoiding his hometown, but we generally spend several breaks with his parents at the beach.  Therefore, when we have extra time, we drive the 10 hours home to see my family.  Besides, his cousins are baby machines and right now, I try to avoid babies.

Anyway, we went home for Christmas.  We went to one of his aunt's holiday parties the second night we were there.  As we walked in the door, we saw one of his younger cousins, who I haven't seen since her wedding in 2008.  When she saw me, her mouth dropped open and she said, "Whoa!  Look at you!"  Yeah, it's been a while since I saw her.

The following day, we went shopping with another of SS's aunts (he has 6 of them).  Before we could get into the car to go, she exclaimed, "Come inside!  I want {insert another cousin's name here} to see you!" 

By about that time, I was hearing the carnival side show music in my head. 

That being said, we had a good time visiting SS's family and I really hope we get to go back more often.

18 Months

Yesterday was my 18 month post-op appointment with my surgeon.  It seems I might be too hard on myself.  I haven't lost what I think I should have lost.  My surgeon, however, is beyond thrilled and SS is right (I promised him I'd write that).  I never worry that he'll chastise me for my efforts, but I do worry he'll be disappointed.  I can't say enough about how important it is to find the right surgeon.  My doctors have made all the difference in my life after surgery.  Their support (including phone calls at 11 o'clock at night because I'm having a little meltdown) has empowered my to change my life.  He also appreciated my fertility clinic story.  When I told him the doctor told me I needed to lose weight "rapidly" his response was, "You've got to be kidding me!"  He agreed I should not return.  

Love this man.  He's amazing.

Just for fun, I thought we should revisit my monthly breakdown list.  The last one I did is here.

Elapsed Time: As of December 7th, I am 18 months post-op.  Wow.  I never thought I'd get here.

Scale Reading: Officially 186 pounds down from my highest weight, 146 down from my day of surgery weight.

State of Mind: Better!  Between my doctor and SS, I'm beginning to realize I'm being too hard on myself.  It doesn't stop me from being hard on myself, but I'm realizing it.  It's a step.

Food: It's Christmas.  I. am. screwed.  My goal is to get through the rest of December without gaining.  I don't have to lose weight, but I need to continue making healthy choices so I can maintain all the hard work I've done so far.

Cravings: I want a cookie.  Constantly.  I'm doing pretty well at dealing with my baking urges by making some cookies and then giving them all away before I can eat too many.  I satisfy my domestic urges and the remnants aren't around to derail me completely.

Cooking:  We've been traveling so much lately that I haven't been cooking much.  I miss cooking.  I do not miss dishes.  By the by, the Apple Herb Roast Chicken from Cracker Barrel is amazeballs!

Protein Shakes:  Still enjoy them (never thought I'd say that).  I have one for breakfast every morning.  SS makes me one.  He's getting to be a pretty good mix-master.  There was one coffee, sugar free coconut syrup debacle that we don't talk about.

Head Games: Like I said before, I'm beginning to realize that I'm being too hard on myself.  I'm going to try to change it.  Not sure if I want to though.  How will I do better if I'm not hard on myself?  Also, I have to work on the anxiety I experience when I eat more than 1,200 calories.  I panic internally when that number gets close to 1,200.  According to my surgeon (and SS, in all fairness), 1,200 is the minimum number of calories I can eat in a day.  If I'm eating less than that (which I am), then my body is in starvation mode and it's no wonder I'm not losing weight.  My body needs over 1,900 calories, my new goal is 1,400.  I'm going to work on getting closer to that.

Exercise: Last week, I started doing crunches and push-ups.  The crunches hurt.  I started with 100, but now I try to do 10 more each night.  I'm up to 150.  The push-ups are harder.  I've never been able to do a push-up.  I started doing 20 each night, now I'm up to 50.  They're girly push-ups, but they count!

Clothes:  I love clothes!  My mother-in-law was nice enough to give me my Christmas gifts early.  New clothes!  I've been getting lots of compliments on them, which is nice.  Everyone is noticing how much weight I've lost too.  It's amazing what happens when you wear clothes that fit!

Frustrations:  Slow weight loss is frustrating.  Cravings for unhealthy things are frustrating.  Constant travel which results in the inability to cook is frustrating.

Previous Goals Update:  

•  Find my positive attitude.  Some days are better than others.

New Goals:  

• Manage anger. I've noticed (and SS has noticed) that I go from 0 to pissed at the drop of a hat.  That is NOT me or my personality.  I need to work on figuring out why and finding a better way to deal with it.

Upcoming Events:  

• Christmas and Christmas traveling
• Seeing Twin and Mini Twin - hooray, she's getting so big!
• A nice break from work...greatly needed
• Swindling...er...convincing SS to paint the bathroom over winter break.  Love you, honey! 

Double standard much?

I'm a big fan of Glee.  Don't judge.  ;)  I've been a loyal watcher since the first episode of the first season.  I was in choir in high school, I like music and singing.  Plus, I love the way they change up the pop songs.  I prefer the Glee version of several songs...there I said it.  Full disclosure,  I've also been reading Tom & Lorenzo's recaps of the shows the day after.  Some of their points I agree with, some I don't.  I do agree if the music is great, the acting/story line suffers and vice versa.

However, I have one big beef with Glee.  Why is it perfectly acceptable, funny even for Santana to call Finn fat and make fun of his weight, but if someone makes fun of a gay character the whole show grinds to a halt and becomes borderline preachy?

Double standard much?

Thankful

It's November...you know what that means.  Everyone is talking about being thankful.

Let's be honest, the last 6 months have sucked for SS and I.  Unemployment, job upheaval, ulcers, infertility, financial worries, job changes/stress, etc.  The bad news just seems to keep coming.

In the interest of being positive, I decided to stop focusing on what is going wrong in our lives and look at all the good things.

• I'm thankful that even though SS's job situation isn't ideal, each month we somehow manage to get all our bills paid on time.  We're not swimming in dough, but we're making it work.

• I'm thankful for my health.  Compared to 17 months ago, I have come so far.  I'm very, very lucky.

• I'm thankful for my fur-kids.  They make me crazy and make me laugh on a daily basis. 

• I'm thankful for my family.  No matter what happens, I know my family will be there to support me.  Sometimes it's easy to forget just how lucky I am to have a family, my family.  That includes my in-laws.  Though, my parents are obviously better...SS's parents are great, too.

• I'm thankful that I have a job.  More so, I'm thankful that I have a job that I love.  Even on the days where I'm "just not feeling it," my students come to my class eager to learn and always manage to make me smile.

• While we're talking jobs, I'm thankful for SS's job.  Sure, it requires him to work long hours.  Sure, he deals with...uh...interesting people, but he loves it.  He's good at it.  The field he's in now, the field that he is finishing his master's degree in is the field he was meant to be in.  It's amazing to see him in his element.  I'll take 1,000 pay cuts if it means he's happy.

• I'm thankful for the people I work with.  I've met some of the neatest people at my job and made some of my dearest friends.

• I'm thankful for my doctors.  Without the full support, encouragement, and help of my primary care physician, I never would have had my surgery.  Since my surgery, he's been nothing but supportive and encouraging.  He's wonderful.  

• I'm incredibly thankful for my surgeon.  He has always worked with me, tried to understand me, and celebrated even my smallest victory.  He's taught me how to eat smart, be smart, and live smart.  If I have any questions or problems, he encourages me to call him AT HOME.  Even if that means I call him at 11 o'clock at night because my blood pressure is low or I'm scared I'm eating too much.  He's an amazing person.

• I'm thankful for my friends.  Near or far, they're always there to listen or help.

• Last, but certainly not least, I'm thankful for SS.  He's amazing.  He is constantly thinking of me.  What will make me happy?  What do I need?  What would I enjoy?  Everything they say about men being oblivious is wrong when it comes to SS.  He works as hard as he can taking care of me and the people he loves.  He works hard at his job and does it with a smile on his face.  He's not afraid to tell me no when I need it or ground me when I'm being neurotic.  I know I can count on him, no matter the situation.

What are you thankful for this holiday season?

Am I enough?

On one of the message boards I frequent recently someone asked how you keep yourself motivated to log calories and exercise.  Several people commented that it was important to find something you “love” to do and look forward to doing.  Most people mentioned running and how they love their time spent running.  Yeah.  That’s not me.  I don’t like exercise.  I like being active (or more active than I used to be), but plain old exercise…?  Not interested.  My philosophy on running remains the same:  “The only time to run is if someone or something is chasing you.”

I’ve come pretty far in the last sixteen months.  Sixteen months ago, I would have stayed home if I didn’t have an exercise buddy.  Sixteen months ago, I worried what people would think if they saw me exercising.  Sixteen months ago, I was scared.  

Now?  Now, I don’t care if I have an exercise buddy.  Sure, I’d still like some company, but if you aren’t going to take the time to put me and more importantly, yourself, first then I am going to do what I need to do.  By myself.  At first it was scary…but now, it’s less scary.  

Twin and I had a conversation several weeks ago when she purchased a bicycle.  Like me, she worried about people seeing her riding her bicycle and judging her.  Ultimately, she decided to embrace that fear.  “That’s right, lookey-loos, I’m a fat chick riding a bicycle!”  That’s kind of been my reaction to the C25k program.  I’m tired of worrying what other people think.  I’m tired of being afraid.   From now on, I’m going to do what is right for me whether people judge me or not.  I have been afraid long enough.  It’s time to put myself first.

I’ve been trying to be diligent about my workout routine.  I do fairly well during the week.  For whatever reason, Tuesday and Thursday seem to be my exercise days.  Fridays and Saturdays are practically out of the question.  No, no!  I’m not making excuses.

Friday, we have soccer practice.  I’d love to walk the walking path before or after practice, but so often SS has work to do before practice.  He has forbidden me from going on the walking path alone.  To be fair, I’m not fighting this edict.  The walking path is not a safe place for a woman to walk alone…honestly, I’d be uncomfortable walking the path with just my exercise pal from school.  It’s a case of “better safe than sorry.”  Saturday, we have rec until 12.  We generally get out of there by 1 or 1:30.  At that point, I usually haven’t eaten anything since 8 when we arrived and I am in need of food.  I should bring lunch with me to the field but SS and I are creatures of routine.  We go out for lunch on Saturday and breakfast Sunday morning.  

I try to get up early on Sunday morning and go run.  Some weeks are more successful than others.  Though, a coworker complimented me on my exercising the other day.  Evidently she’d seen me out running while they were driving to church.  It’s nice to be complimented…though now I worry just how red-faced and sweaty I was.

The commitment I’ve made, at least mentally, pleases me.  Mentally, I know if I exercise I lose weight.  When I stop or slack off on the exercising, I don’t lose weight.  That in and of itself keeps me motivated to exercise.

If you read my last post, you know that I worry if I’m pushing myself enough.  Here’s the thing, I’m a perfectionist.  I want to be the best.  I NEED to be the best.  It’s a personality flaw, I know.  I’m forever comparing myself to someone else.  Case in point, in middle school one of my friends and I were REALLY into the Babysitter’s Club series.  We read the books constantly.  I distinctly remember having a competition (in my mind only) on how fast we could read a book.  If she read a book in a day, I needed to read a book in a day.  Did she participate in this competition?  Uh, no.  But for me, it consumed me.  

This surgery has been no different.  If someone had surgery around the same time, I should be losing at the same rate as them.  If someone had surgery after me and had a similar amount of weight to lose then I should be keeping up with them.  When I don’t meet my expectations, I get depressed.  

I’ve lost 178 pounds.  178.  I look nothing like my former self.  Often, I don’t recognize myself in pictures or even the mirror.  However, I still have over 60 pounds that I still want to lose.  That won’t put me at a “normal” weight, I’ll still be plus-size, but it’s a number both  my surgeon and I feel is reasonable given my body type.  Instead of celebrating the 178 pounds that I’ve lost, I obsess over those remaining 60 pounds. 

I obsess over things (shut it, SS).  At the end of the day, I find myself rehashing the day and trying to figure out where I could have done better.  Am I eating too much?  Am I not eating enough?  Have I stretched my pouch?  Do I need revision surgery?  Did I push myself enough this week in my workouts?  Am I screwing up this surgery?  Am I using my “tool” the right way or am I ruining the wonderful gift I’ve been given?  Logically, I know that everyone is different.  We lose at different rates, we can/can’t eat different things, and we excel differently.  

I just want to be better than I am. 

 

Will there ever come a time when I realize that I am enough?

Signs

Signs you might not be as "okay" as you thought you were with coping with the stressors in your life:

• At a 5 minute appointment to discuss a vitamin level your surgeon couldn't get and thus asked your PCP to do and send him, said PCP walks in and says, "How are you doing!?" and you promptly burst into tears and cry for the next 45 minutes.
• Losing 8+ pounds in 4 days

Maybe that whole ignore it until it goes away/fake it til you make it mentality isn't working as well as I thought it was.

Wherein the rug is pulled out from under us

Yeah...yesterday sucked.

The Good

• Called my old surgeon and got an appointment for next week
• Got medicine to help my tummy feel better
• Finished "garden" week without any major incident

The Bad

• Why did I get an appointment so quickly?  Doc thinks I have an ulcer.  I see him Wednesday, Thursday he's going to do an endoscopy to confirm the ulcer.  It's my first "complication" and I'm scared.
• Medicine was expensive.
• Endoscopy will be expensive.

The Ugly

• SS's did not receive an employment contract for next year due to budget cuts

I'm hoping by Monday, I will have stopped bursting into tears at the drop of a hat.  Considering SS and I have the same boss AND at some point I am going to have a meeting with him, this will be a good thing.  The sooner, the better.  Really getting tired of being "tested."  We obviously don't know how to pass this particular test.  

SS doesn't deserve this and I hate what it's doing to him.  Now, I'm off to make contingency plans in my head.  If you're the praying type, please say a few for us.  If you're the good news thoughts type, send those too.  It can't hurt.

Edited to Add:  Made it through this post without bursting into tears...do I smell victory over my emotions?  I think I do.

Houston...we have a problem...I think

So...vacation is over.  I'm bummed.  I have this weird, overwhelming feeling of sadness.  Nothing is *wrong,* but still I cry at the drop of a hat.  I'd REALLY like that to go away.

That's not the major problem though.  For over a week, I've had this weird "off" feeling.  It's not a pain, but more of an ache?  It's like the feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when you start to get a stomach ache.  I'm not very good at describing the problem except to say that it's different and in my opinion, it's not right.

Drinking and eating are very much a chore for me, right now.  I feel the best when I'm not eating or drinking.  I've gone through this before, but it's never lasted this long.  It's beginning to scare me.  

I've asked my good friend Dr. Google and I'm wondering if it's a hernia.  Luckily, SS has agreed to call my surgeon's office (the original one) in the morning to see about getting me an appointment.  This was my idea...which is somewhat frightening in and of itself.  

Fingers crossed that I'm overreacting and this is nothing.

No, just...no

So.  That just happened.

Today was my appointment with the new surgeon.  I will not be going back.  I feel like it's a pretty clear sign that I need to not come back when SS and I walk out of the office and I immediately burst into tears.  

I've said it before, I love my original surgeon.  Love him.  He's always positive, he's always upbeat, and he knows me.  He "gets" me.  When I went in for my last appointment for my surgery, I had lost 40 pounds.  I felt like a failure.  My goal was to be under my current 00 number.  I was 4 pounds away from it.  Sure, I'd starved myself to get there and half of the weight I lost was muscle, but bottom line, I was disappointed in myself.  He was going to yell at me...it was going to be awful.

My original surgeon walked in the door and the first words out of his mouth were: "Congratulations!  You've lost 40 pounds!  Great job!"

Ex-squeeze me?

Exercise is hard for me.  So when I tell my surgeon I'm exercising 2 or 3 days a week, his reaction: "That's great!  Do you think you can do more?"  

I went into today's appointment proud that I have made exercise a habit.  5 days a week!  I'm exercising!  

Today...was a completely opposite experience.  First, they lost my records/claimed they never got them.  My primary care doctor got my records, they were sent at the same time, so I doubt the problem is on my original surgeon's side.  But hey, I could be wrong.

First, the doctor I was expecting to be a woman is actually a man.  Shut the front door.  So that threw SS and I for a loop, but I think we recovered well.

The new doctor was nice enough.  Not a lot of bedside matter, but he wasn't mean. 

Basically it boils down to the following:

• According to him, I need to exercise more.  45 - 60 minutes a day, 6 days a week, strength training every other day.
• If I'm "doing it right" I should hurt the next day.
• I'm eating too much.
• My protein and vitamins look good.
• He was not concerned at all about my low B12 or D levels.
• Before I left, he plotted my total weight loss on this wonderful graph (like the child growth charts), giving me concrete proof I'm a failure.
• I've lost 5 pounds since I stopped weighing myself in February.

For me, the whole ordeal was just not good.  I will not be going back.  We'll be driving the 3 hours to my original surgeon...I hope my insurance will still cover him.

Stetching

So...I'm convinced I've stretched my pouch.  My 1,800 calorie goal is now not really a hard number to hit.  In fact, I'm alarmingly close to it every day (withing 3-500 calories).  I'm following my former surgeon's recommendations to the letter, but I'm still worried.  How am I going to reduce my calories once I lose more weight?

Have I failed again?  Have I broken this too?  Right now, it seems like a failure.

Guilt

Let's talk a moment about guilt... Several weeks ago my parents arrived for a visit and accompanied me to the patient education class for my surgery.  After the class, my mother jokingly commented, "I'm going to be the only fat one left in the family!"  

I know she was joking, but don't they say half of everything said in jest is serious?  Her surgery won't cover weight loss surgery.  If I could finance gastric bypass for my mother, I would do it in a nanosecond.  I worry constantly about her and the surgery would definitely help her.  Is it wrong to feel guilty about having this surgery?  I know that having the surgery is the best thing for me, but it's almost like survivors guilt.  If she asked me to, I would stay the way I am just to save her pain.

My best friend is in the same boat.  She wants bariatric surgery but her insurance won't cover it.  I feel guilty discussing it around her too, however, she's pregnant and I'm not so the guilt is lessened. 

I guess it's time to really commit to winning the lottery so I can help the people I love.