Two Month Post-Op Pics

I'm two months out today and down forty-three pounds. Here I am in the same shirt (different jeans). Ahh, I was feeling so happy about this when I first pulled together the pictures, and a coworker (whom I consider a friend) says, "You should be proud of yourself...(implied BUT)...having your stomach surgically removed played a big part in it."

Well, duh. And f*** you, too. I am looking for a way to spin this into a positive, but I'm not feeling it right now! Yes, surgery played a huge part in it. I always knew I could lose weight - I was very good at doing it, in fact. I could not keep it off. And I always gained back more. So I got to a point where I was unwilling/afraid to lose any because I didn't want to get any fatter.

I didn't do have the surgery to win some "losing weight contest" or show anyone up. I did it to save my life. To make my life something worth saving. I am very open about the surgery - especially to my coworkers as it is a covered medical insurance benefit for them, too. I figure that if I can be of any help or inspiration, it would make my struggles worthwhile. It's the same reason I started blogging: I want people to know that it is OK to go this route. It doesn't make you a failure, and it's not a magic wand, either. It's hard work. There's a lot of emotional pain and growing that comes with it, too.

Anyway. My weight loss is becoming pretty noticeable and this seems to have opened me up to oddball comments which I am trying to take in a spirit of support and/or friendship but really hurt. "It's still great no matter how you lose it," or "Too bad you couldn't do it on your own." People, PUH-LEEZ. Do you think I do not know the victory of taking weight off "ON MY OWN." I know it so freaking well I've been doing it since I was eighteen years old. I also know it's evil twin: gaining it all back and then some, and feeling like a piece of shit loser for not being able to maintain all that hard work and effort.

Yipes. My friend really hurt my feelings. In case it wasn't obvious, haha. But anyway, I am proud of myself and thrilled with my results and that's all that matters.

Happy Burro Day!

Hello, little burro! Yes, if I want to, I can ride you - straight into the bottom of the Grand Canyon! That's 220 pounds, the next goal on my list!

I ventured onto the scale this morning, against my better judgment. I decided my problem is that I am feeling all plugged up. Stopping at the store this morning to buy some of Sheila's Benefiber! :) I think it's all this damn meat I eat. Do you know I was a vegetarian for ten years or more? Now I'm always gnawing on a hunk o' meat.

Anyway, my cycles are still a little screwy, so I always feel a little PMS-bloaty, I'm constipated...yes, I am sharing way too much information here but it is MY BLOG, haha, and when I look back on this, I want to remember, "Oh yeah, that's why I started drinking this nasty orange shit." Or better yet, if *you* are recovering or preparing for your own surgery, you can think, "I better just plan on buying some of that, too," just I did when I read Sheila's Benefiber post. Which I will hyperlink here later, but am oh-so-procrastinating getting ready for work, and taking the time to declare today "Love Your Burro Day" has already wasted much too much time. :)

Takin' Care o' Mama

Well! Only two days shy of my two month surgery-anniversary. (I have tried, but cannot embrace the nickname "surgiversary." Even though it is less time-consuming to type than surgery-anniversary. We'll see if it grows on me. I'm all for saving key strokes, right?) I am a bit nervous about it tonight, which is silly. I think because I did not weigh myself today, which is my OCD post-op habit (as opposed to my compulsive scale avoidance pre-op). I filled myself up last night and tonight on, uh, boiled cabbage. I hardly think this is harmful food, but I overfilled nonetheless. That was earlier, and now my tummy is sloshing with diet Snapple ("water" in my world). So I am not especially warm to the idea of thinking about post-op success.

Plus, my bra is tight. I think I must be a little bloaty. The bra? Oh yes, my new size 40 bra, thank you! The old ones were 44, and they were snug as heck when I bought them. And at my highest, my breasts spilleth over from the cup. Woohoo!

The cup size on this one is a 40G (what is that, a 40-quadruple-D?). Mama has some big-ass boobs. I could have probably gone to a 42DDD or something, but I decided that afternoon I was going to try a 40 and fit the cup size around it. I kept going up and up and up.

Rambling. How am I taking care of me? Well - I haven't told you that I am doing my first 5K on Sunday! The Seattle Saint Paddy's Day Dash. No, sillies, I won't be *running* the 5K, I will be walking, but hey, I'm participating! Pictures to follow. Pray it's sunny. Pray the Alaskan Way viaduct doesn't collapse when we walk on it (but hey! if it does, we had the best view in town before we went down - don't cry for me, Argentina.)

Also, this was a big week on the home front. I try to keep this blog about my WLS adventures, but you can tolerate me while I say that I re-hired last summer's nanny, am pulling the boys out of after school daycare (before they throw my youngest out, haha), and I hired a cello instructor/housekeeper.

You heard me right. :) I got a one month membership to sittercity.com looking for 1) a summer nanny, 2) an after school nanny starting immediately, 3) a cadre of occasional babysitters I can call in a pinch, and 4) a hapless victim to help me clean and organize.

What? Did you not know I am made of money? Oh yes, I positively bleed it! BAHAHA. No, we're in code red mode. My five-year-old, a chipper little off-the-charts-ADHD type guy...well, the chaos of the YMCA is not a good fit for him. A quiet, calm, padded-walls-type place would be better, perhaps, but he is stuck with the middle ground: home, with his siblings and a nanny.

Last year's nanny wanted to come back to us, and we are happy to have her. We will have to work with her to tighten up the ship she runs, but she is a wonderfully sweet and reliable girl whom I consider part of the family.

Separately, I planned to interview a music major from the University of Washington who is an experienced nanny (and one of eight kids in her family). Her school schedule doesn't allow nannying right now, but she responded to my housekeeping ad. In her profile about nannying/babysitting, she mentioned she plays cello. Hey! I have a cellist in my house! And she has been b-e-g-g-i-n-g for private lessons.

And thus, I hired the cellist housekeeper. And I invited her to attend the cello concert my daughter and I are going to on Friday night. I think she will be a great role model and inspiration for my daughter, who is in her second year of playing cello, and is quite good, I think.

This all equates to taking care of me because, well, I need some help around here. I hope that by getting the house in order, combined with my continued weight loss and energy recoup, I'll be running a well-organized domestic machine around here in a few months.

In the meantime, I'm glad for the help. Here's to reduced stress!

Get Thee a Pill Box

Every now and again, you can rely on this blog to provide you with earthshattering, cannot live without pre-and post-op advice. Things you could have never possibly figured out on your own.

Today's advice is "get a pill box."

No, really.

So, I am eight weeks post-op today, and, true to form, I am terrible about taking my pills. Twice a day pills? HA! More like "several times a week" pills.

This week, I was fed up. I take a prescription twice a day to prevent gallstones. A common result of rapid weight loss is gallstones, and thus the need to have your gallbladder removed. I do not want my gallbladder removed. In fact, I want to stay away from anything that lands me in the hospital for another surgery.

Ipso facto, I must take my gallbladder medication for the next four months or so.

Now - I knew a pill box would facilitate medication management. So, for a good four to six weeks, I mused that I needed to remember to pick one up from the drugstore. Then, I *did* pick one up, and for a good week or so, I mused that I needed to sit down and fill it with medications. Then I actually sat down to load it up, and within a couple days after that, I rounded up all the pills that need to go into it. I put the bottles in a gallon zip-lock bag, so next week's re-load will hopefully not be such a time-consuming endeavor.

Here it is. Ain't she a beaut? AM and PM pill holders, and each day pops out to drop into your purse or pocket, should you so desire. And there are my pills, if you are interested:

MORNING
Gummy vitamin
Actigall anti-gallstone pill
1000 IUI vitamin D
Some reflux/antacid med - I think I take this for a few months, too
1/2 my high blood pressure med. I have turned amateur physician on myself. I stopped taking the high blood pressure med weeks ago and monitored my blood pressure and found it consistently to my liking. However, now that I have been exercising more, I noticed that my heart rate is still high. On the blood pressure med, my heart rate is much lower (for example 80 bpm versus 100 bpm when first stepping onto the treadmill, and 120 max versus 155 max when in full workout). I like a slower heart rate, it makes me feel less like I'm going to drop dead at the YMCA. So, I started taking 1/2 a pill again. I'll monitor my blood pressure to make sure it's not too low, and see how it affects my heart rate when working out.

EVENING
Gummy vitamin
B-12 sublingual
Actigall
Prescription iron supplement

I have nasty, nasty calcium liquid purchased from Costco to take daily. I haven't been, and need to get on it. Nasty, nasty stuff. Claims to taste like a blueberry smoothie. Does not. WLS peeps are supposed to take calcium citrate, which is pretty limiting in terms of the stuff you think of when you think calcium supplements (TUMS, vitachew, etc). I have hated everything I've tried, but I'm difficult that way.

VSG Surgery Costs

I am compiling up some fascinating data about the costs related to my VSG surgery. I'll post that later: I am waiting for insurance review on one final claim from the assistant surgeon. Once they make a decision, I'll know what the final amounts are that I paid versus what my insurance paid.

What really strikes me though, is this little item:

Hospital charges (surgeon/asst surgeon invoiced separately):

Invoiced amount: $27,307.36
Insurance paid:      $6,589.90
Julie paid:                $932.20

Isn't that shocking? I feel so badly for the people who self-pay. There was a woman I met who self-paid for the surgery at the same hospital. I believe she told me she paid upwards of $20K for the surgery. Now, for myself, I am grateful that insurance negotiated the cost down to 1/3 what the hospital billed - but it's still pretty difficult to grasp the discrepancy.

I Feel Pretty, Oh So Pretty!

Okay, actually, I felt prettier before I saw the picture, but still, I feel pretty! Here's me, down 42 pounds (yeah, baby, snuck another one in there!)...and those are size 14 slacks! Ha - that won't work in every brand, but it did in *this* brand! And HIGH HEELED boots! I am stylin', but I will be back in my tennies by lunch, I predict. It has been many, many years since I've worn heels, 'cept to play around the house. ;)

3/7/11 (1 day shy of 8 weeks post-op)

June 2010

Seven Dwarves Diet

Gotta love a forty pound loss! It's forty-one, actually, so things are clipping along even farther. I am feeling great about my success. I'm also feeling a bit more up for the challenge of what to eat. Today, I'm going to make my own turkey meatballs/turkey burger/turkey meatloaf. Haven't quite decided what direction to take it.

Post-op VSG eating reminds me of a chick-lit book I read several years ago. I want to say it was from the "Shopaholic" series, but I don't think it was. Something of that ilk, anyway. There was a character, a single woman, who followed a "Seven Dwarves Diet." At the beginning of each week, she bought seven yogurts, seven apples, and seven tiny pieces of chocolate. (There may have been more food involved, I can't remember.) Anyway, that's how I feel about my eating. Anything I buy, I think, wow, that's going to go bad before I can eat it. Preparing ahead is tough because we just have the little freezer, and it's jam-packed. Maybe we'll concentrate on eating out of the freezer this week! Make a little space, make it a little more sleeve-friendly.

This will also be a fish week, I think. I'm finding that I'm focusing so much on eating protein, e.g. meat - that I'm eating these little sausages, or salamis, pepperonis, etc. Too much processed - too much sodium. This week, we're going to push that sleeve a little harder and go for foods I can make at home.

Part of that revelation was my last couple purchases from Costco. Yuck. I bought some aidells teriyaki and pineapple chicken meatballs. Too sweet for me. I've slathered a few in A1 sauce, but I just don't like them. I also bought some Aidells mini sausages - now I'm kind of turned off all of it. I'm thinking about being evil and returning it to Costco. Hmm. Maybe I'll call my parents and see if they want it.

Anyway....FORTY-ONE POUNDS!!

No Longer Extreme! Scale Cooperation and Mathematical Manipulation

I told my friend on the phone this afternoon that I am both deeply mortified and embarrassed to achieve this goal and super proud of myself. It is an odd feeling!

I am now officially..."Obese." Not "Extremely Obese." Thankyouverymuch! The BMI chart has spoken: my BMI is 39.7, *well* under the 40 BMI classifying you as extremely obese. If I showed up at the weight loss surgeon's office today, demanding a gastric sleeve, well, I'd be turned away because my skinny little BMI didn't meet my insurance company's requirements.

There was a little mathematical manipulation at play, too. After getting measured at my surgeon's office since they had neglected to do it, and asking the hematologist's office to measure me...well, I am ready to concede that I guess I either grew as an adult or have always had an inaccurate understanding of my own height. I bumped it up from 5'2.5" to 5'3". Amazing what a nice little push a half inch will give you, haha.

But, notice the scale has favored me this week, as well. That's a four-pound weight loss, ladies and gentlemen! I am on the cusp of the 40 pound lost goal, as well. Yay! It feels good to have started losing again after no loss last week and the evil Chex Mix incident.

You may notice my goal list in the upper right corner. Why do I want to ride a burro into the Grand Canyon? Well, I probably don't. But many years ago a coworker went with her husband, who was turned away and left at the top of the canyon while his wife and daughters rode their burros to the bottom. He was over 220 pounds, and thus not allowed to ride on the burro. I remember both a) being embarrassed for him because she was sharing this story with everyone at work, and b) feeling embarrassed because I, too, would be turned away from the burro ride.

But soon, that burro would have to take me on its back, and thus, it's the next goal on my list. :)

I Know What Evil Looks Like

I should have walked away. I knew that the mini-mart by my house has nothing of value for me, food-wise. I was hungry, I wanted breakfast. I had no time to go to the grocery store, I told myself. I asked the cashier where their little bags of almonds were: but even as I asked, my tummy said, "hmm." Wasabi-flavored almonds, while delicious, are probably not wise right now. As I mulled over the almonds, the face of evil locked eyes with me. I blame 23imaginaryfriends and her daughter, who introduced me to the homemade version of this incredibly powerful monster!

I bought the bag. I told myself I was being ridiculous. I am ever so reluctant to blog about this major transgression, because I am embarrassed and disappointed in myself. However. This blog is a chronicle of my experience with weight loss surgery. In a year, in two years, I want to be able to look back on my experience and know where I came from, where I am now, and how I got there. Making bad food choices is part of that journey. Will I get a handle on it? Will I overcome the problems that led me to reach 263 pounds? Will I ever learn?

Yes. I am confident I will. I cannot pretend that I have solved my eating issues overnight just by virtue of the surgery. I can admit to myself, however, that poor eating choices may put myself at risk of physical harm. This excerpt is from the obesity forum today, the story of someone who has lost 150 pounds in a year. This person learned some lessons the hard way, too:

"Once after about two or three months out I ended up in the hospital with severe stomach pains. Never had that much pain in my life. My doctor ordered blood work, abdominal X-Ray , CT Scan, Upper endoscopy all test came back negative. He...did a leak test and discovered a leak and repaired it...All this was due to me going carb crazy when I deviated from program two days before my pains. I didn’t think that my deviation two full days before I experienced any pain was related to my symptoms but looking back I think it was. This is why I always advise people to stick to program. You never know what the results of a little deviation can do, especially when you’re a newbie."

Powerful lesson. Over the course of the day, my listless, feeling sorry for myself day, I ate the whole bag. I don't think it was 10 oz, I think it was 7 oz. But really, does that matter? It was 7-10 ounces of poison. Poison to my body, poison to my hopes, poison to all the hard work I've been doing.

I will learn. I am DONE with obesity and food addiction and all its related self-destruction and stupidity. DONE.

Listless.

Ah, I am so over food. I'm over EVERYTHING today. (It is no coincidence, I'm sure, that today is the day I compile a report at work - I *strongly dislike* this task and find that it kind of puts a funk on my day. Fortunately, it's only twice a month.)

Anyway. I can't think of anything to eat. On Sunday, I bought two feta/spinach turkey burgers from the meat department. I cooked them up, cut them in half and stuck them in snack sized baggies. This, I planned, would be lunch at work for the next four days.

Sigh. My stomach hates the feta. My mouth loves the burgers, but the feta is a sleeve no-go. Okay. Regroup. Yesterday, I went to the lunch buffet place (from my food photos) just before they closed at 3:00 p.m. I was over-hungry. I went bananas and bought $2.40 worth of food (as opposed to the $1.20 worth I posted last week, haha). I gave myself a stomachache. I wanted to go home.

Today, then, the buffet doesn't sound good, even though it wasn't the buffet's fault. It was too much food, and probably too much variety. I had a spoonful of egg yolk and a spoonful of tuna salad: foods that have not historically been well-tolerated. I got over-cocky with my assumption that it would be okay, since my sleeve is being more tolerant. Maybe it was too much food, maybe it was the wrong food.

So now, I am just over food, and over my sleeve. For some reason, today I have been obsessing about not losing fast enough. I am down 37 pounds in 9+ weeks (including two-week pre-op diet). Twenty-nine pounds from the day of the surgery. This is fast! But I didn't lose last week, and this week I dropped two pounds and holding steady.

I am overthinking. No, I have not reached maximum weight loss. I should probably stop reading the weight loss surgery forums so intently. Yesterday I read that someone's surgeon said you lose most of your weight in the first three months. "I'm blowing it!!" I thought.

Silly girl. Don't stress so much.