So 5 months after my surgery and I'm still fat. I have piles of jeans, sundresses, shorts, tank tops all from last spring/summer that I just knew I would be able to fit in by this summer. I hate being wrong. Like I said in the previous blogs, no matter how weird this sounds, I was hoping that little brain tumor scare had turned in to something. At least then I would have something to blame this on. I'm still stumped. I'm going to pick up all my lab results and make an appointment with my surgeon this week and pray he can help me with this, because I don't know what else to do.
In the meantime....I did it....I joined Orange County Fitness. Yep, I'm attempting to become an #OCFjunkie. After months of being harassed (too harsh? encouraged? is that better?) about going by my cousin and friends, I finally gave in.
I had been going to Anytime Fitness and "working out." I would go for a week or two, put in my 30 minutes, then take a couple weeks off. Then I would just be flabbergasted that I wasn't losing weight or gaining muscle tone. I finally faced the truth that I was not working. I would leave barely winded, hair still #onfleek, and able to sit down to pee without much of an effort (give me a minute, this will make sense shortly). Plus, I was bored. I did the same machines, the same workout, everything...and I was yawning. Dreaded going. Not good signs.
So one day, I finally went to visit OCF. It was the best work out I have ever had. I left completely drenched in sweat, legs shaking in so much pain yet had no feeling, every muscle screaming, and a smile on my face. The sense of accomplishment I felt and the pride coursing through my veins made me feel invincible. Now granted, I was not invincible. Have you ever done 200 squats then attempt to sit on a toilet? I have had 2 children birthed naturally, I have had 3 bariatric surgeries that rendered stomach muscles useless, I have suffered a subdural hematoma that no pain medicine could numb. NOTHING compares to the pain and struggle of sitting on and getting up from the toilet after 200 squats. Try it if you don't believe me! But all this proved how hard my muscles were worked in just one day. I couldn't move, but I knew I would be stronger for it.
One of the best things about OCF is that anyone can do it, you just have to scale your workout to what you can do. I can't run for 200m without having to stop and walk, I couldn't do one wallball, I shudder at the thought of doing more than one burpee....none of that mattered! I got out there and I did me.
My mantra: I do me. This means I do not and will not compare myself to any one else there. Here are some examples of having to repeat this mantra.
Running:
Running does not feel natural to me. Everything jiggles, inside and out. I feel like my insides are a giant weird snowglobe that some obnoxious kid just picked up and shook with all their might, all while sitting on my chest and pinching my nose closed so I can't breathe. Running does not appeal to me. So when the WOD calls for sprinting, then I'm going to move over to the side so the pros can breeze past me as I jog as fast as I can. I am not a runner, I never have been, and I probably never will be. I ran ALOT back in high school...up and down a basketball court. For some reason, I could play entire games with no break and had no issues. Put me on a track and tell me to run a lap? OMG! You would find me flopping on the ground only 100m in, like a fish sucking air outside of the water, screaming for an oxygen tank, and a wheelchair because my legs got lost somewhere 50m back! Not a runner. So a WOD calls for several 400m runs. I will jog 200m, walk 200m. Or just do a 200m jog. I do me.
Wallballs, burpees, HSPU, or anything resembling a pull up:
See that 8 pound ball? Yeah, that's mine. I'm not ashamed, that's the ball I use for wallballs. You want the 20 pounder, awesome! Don't mind me! Same thing with HSPU (handstand push up) and pulls up and all the fancy pull up workouts. I'm good with regular scaled push ups and ring rows...I rock those ring rows! There is no shame in my game! I'm here to get stronger and healthier, not to prove anything to anyone other than myself. I do me.
How many rounds?
WOD calls for 5 rounds, 10 rounds? Watch me do 3, 6, 8...I remember only getting to round 3 of a 5 round WOD. Mrs. OCF walks up and asks if I'm okay. I say yes, but I think I'm about done. I felt ashamed that I hadn't completed the WOD, even though it was only my second day! She looked at the clock and said, "Awesome! You have been working your tail off for 43 minutes! That's amazing! Good job!" Really?? YES! So that's a new outlook for me. Someone else might be able to get through all 5 in 43 minutes, but I did 3...and that's awesome! I do me.
This mantra was a hard one to learn. I felt like I was going to be judged, like they were going to look at me and wonder what this roly poly, soft bodied, no running lazy bum was doing in their gym. But that's not how it is at all. Everyone is there to work, they aren't worried about me because they are focused on themselves and doing their own workout, pushing themselves to be better...just like I am. And we all have to start from somewhere...and this is my somewhere. I get smiles, cheers, a few shouts of strongly worded encouragement from the coaches and it helps. We're all in this together.
So there you have it...only 2 weeks in and I'm on my way to earning my #OCFjunkie tag. If you have been on the fence of upping your work out, a little timid at the idea of joining something so different than your regular treadmill and machine based circuit training....come on! First workout is free, and who doesn't love free??
Seriously...if there is a crossfit gym local to you that you have been thinking about going to; if you've been thinking of purchasing that Beachbody DVD; if you've been thinking about using that C25K app; or if you've been thinking about anything that will get you healthier and feeling better...just do it. Take your first step, no regrets. And remember to just do you...you know who you are. This is a snippet of lyrics from one of my fave songs being played on The Message. Click the youtube link below to hear it in its entirety. You do you, because you are enough.
I am strong, beautiful
I am good enough
And I belong after all, 'cause of what You've done
This is real what I feel
No one made it up
I am loved
I'm runnin' to the One who knows me
Who made every part of me in His hands
I'm holdin' to the One who holds me
'Cause I know, 'cause I am
I know who I am
I am sure, I am Yours
Fearfully, wonderfully, perfectly
You had made me
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6oZuNkT7_UM
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Saturday, May 9, 2015
Unnecessary Drama
I thought about just updating on Facebook and foregoing the blog post, but this is what I do. I just have to word vomit all this out, and I feel safe here.
Sorry it took so long to update, but life has a way of not slowing down or stopping...even in weird situations like what I've being dealing with. I have had to go to work, baseball games, feed kids and stay up late washing uniforms because of back to back games. So no matter how many times I wanted to wallow in the messiness of this entire "adventure," there was no choice but to get up and keep moving.
So I FINALLY met with the neurosurgeon on Wednesday. Unfortunately for Coby, I do not have a watermelon growing in my brain. Basically, this all boils down to...just no big deal at all. That's right folks, this is basically just some sort of brain pimple. It's not doing a darn thing to me but camping out on my pituitary gland. My labs have come back normal, I am normal (don't look so shocked). He said I might have even been born with this. I did question this as I had an MRI in 2013 and nobody said anything about it then. He said, very condescendingly as a top rated neurosurgeon would typically do, that the peon doctors at our small town hospital probably just didn't see it. Okay, he didn't say those exact words, but my translation of his tone is spot on. He did ask for me to get my hands on that MRI and send it to him, he was curious to see if it was there, if he can see it. Based on his lack of enthusiasm and blasé attitude toward this "cyst" as he's called it, I'm not in any hurry to go out of my way to get this MRI, mail it to him, and then (at his request) email him a few times a week to make sure that he reads it and gets back with me. I feel I have already given this too much of my time.
I asked about my headaches: not caused by this at all. Hmkay.
I asked about my inability to lose weight, my acne, all my female related concerns, my exhaustion: this peaked his interest a tad bit. He started describing a very specific, unusual lab that would test for Cushing Syndrome. I told him I did that lab!! The results were not back yet. Of course they're not... He said if that came back abnormal, then we would need to take some action. At this point, I really don't think that lab is going to come back as anything other than normal. And if it's normal, then I'm still left with these unanswered questions.
But yes...PRAISE THE LORD! This is no big deal. This is exactly what we wanted, and what I asked for your prayers. But there is this nagging in the back of my mind, that something is off. I wanted this to be something so we could treat it and move on, and all my "issues" would disappear. But that is not to be. So I will move on and leave this little detour in life behind.
I'm kind of embarrassed with how I reacted, freaking out about this. It had consumed me. I thought about it all the time, wondered about what the future would hold, spent so much time on the phone trying to get someone to tell me something or do something! Only to be told it's a "cyst" and we will do nothing but maybe get an MRI every other year or so. Ashamed that I spent so much energy on something that didn't deserve my time. Did I not trust God enough to handle this? I don't know and I don't know if I want to answer that truthfully. There were times when I felt like God was trying to slow me down, yet I kept pushing and getting more and more anxious that things weren't falling in to place like I thought they should. Now, it's over, and I'm ready to rest up for the next obstacle that we will most assuredly face.
I do thank all of you for your concern, your prayers, your hugs, your cards with well wishes, your love. You should all know by now, I lead with the drama and can turn even the most benign brain pimple into a wild and crazy ride. Love you all!
Sorry it took so long to update, but life has a way of not slowing down or stopping...even in weird situations like what I've being dealing with. I have had to go to work, baseball games, feed kids and stay up late washing uniforms because of back to back games. So no matter how many times I wanted to wallow in the messiness of this entire "adventure," there was no choice but to get up and keep moving.
So I FINALLY met with the neurosurgeon on Wednesday. Unfortunately for Coby, I do not have a watermelon growing in my brain. Basically, this all boils down to...just no big deal at all. That's right folks, this is basically just some sort of brain pimple. It's not doing a darn thing to me but camping out on my pituitary gland. My labs have come back normal, I am normal (don't look so shocked). He said I might have even been born with this. I did question this as I had an MRI in 2013 and nobody said anything about it then. He said, very condescendingly as a top rated neurosurgeon would typically do, that the peon doctors at our small town hospital probably just didn't see it. Okay, he didn't say those exact words, but my translation of his tone is spot on. He did ask for me to get my hands on that MRI and send it to him, he was curious to see if it was there, if he can see it. Based on his lack of enthusiasm and blasé attitude toward this "cyst" as he's called it, I'm not in any hurry to go out of my way to get this MRI, mail it to him, and then (at his request) email him a few times a week to make sure that he reads it and gets back with me. I feel I have already given this too much of my time.
I asked about my headaches: not caused by this at all. Hmkay.
I asked about my inability to lose weight, my acne, all my female related concerns, my exhaustion: this peaked his interest a tad bit. He started describing a very specific, unusual lab that would test for Cushing Syndrome. I told him I did that lab!! The results were not back yet. Of course they're not... He said if that came back abnormal, then we would need to take some action. At this point, I really don't think that lab is going to come back as anything other than normal. And if it's normal, then I'm still left with these unanswered questions.
But yes...PRAISE THE LORD! This is no big deal. This is exactly what we wanted, and what I asked for your prayers. But there is this nagging in the back of my mind, that something is off. I wanted this to be something so we could treat it and move on, and all my "issues" would disappear. But that is not to be. So I will move on and leave this little detour in life behind.
I'm kind of embarrassed with how I reacted, freaking out about this. It had consumed me. I thought about it all the time, wondered about what the future would hold, spent so much time on the phone trying to get someone to tell me something or do something! Only to be told it's a "cyst" and we will do nothing but maybe get an MRI every other year or so. Ashamed that I spent so much energy on something that didn't deserve my time. Did I not trust God enough to handle this? I don't know and I don't know if I want to answer that truthfully. There were times when I felt like God was trying to slow me down, yet I kept pushing and getting more and more anxious that things weren't falling in to place like I thought they should. Now, it's over, and I'm ready to rest up for the next obstacle that we will most assuredly face.
I do thank all of you for your concern, your prayers, your hugs, your cards with well wishes, your love. You should all know by now, I lead with the drama and can turn even the most benign brain pimple into a wild and crazy ride. Love you all!
Friday, May 1, 2015
It wouldn't be fun if it were easy
First of all...I changed the title of my blog. It used to be "Stopping The Roller Coaster Ride." But, well, life is nothing but a myriad of ups and downs, twists and turns. So I made the switch to "Enjoying The Crazy Ride." I refuse to stop the ride of life, so I might as well have a little fun. Plus, this started off as a place to log and vent all my bariatric surgery stuffs. But I need an outlet for all things about life, not just about weight loss struggles.
For instance, today's vent/update is about this stupid tumor that no one seemed to really care about. And by "no one" I really mean anyone involved in the medical field.
I found out Friday, April 17 that I had this tumor and would be referred to Dr. Angel in Beaumont. On Wednesday, April 22, we decided I would go to Dr. David Baskins in Houston. After googling Dr. Baskins, I was very pleased and felt like I would be in good hands. The problem...actually getting in to see Dr. Baskins.
I called my doctor's office, the referral department, spoke with friends in the medical field about how this process should work...still not hearing anything about an appointment and getting completely conflicting reports on what next steps are.
By Monday, April 27, I finally received a phone call from the referral department of SETMA. They sent all my paperwork to Dr. Baskins office on the previous Thursday at 8:56 AM and I should have heard something from them by now.
I call Dr. Baskins office: We don't have anything on you...oh wait, yeah here it is.
Seriously?!? You've had my name since LAST Thursday and it took me calling you for you to find it? I was told she will fax orders to my local doc's office to get some labwork done here and will find me an appointment for this Thursday (that was yesterday by the way...in case you're not looking at a calendar and following along counting the days with me).
That didn't exactly happen. That was Monday. Finally by Wednesday the lab orders were done and Thursday I was told I have an appointment for NEXT Wednesday. This will be almost 3 weeks since learning about my little alien living in my head. I would like to name this little alien...suggestions?
Every day I would say, "That's it, I'm done." Meaning I'm not going to stress myself out, I'm not going to call the doctor, I'm just going to sit here and do nothing. Unfortunately, that's not me. I have called someone every day, heard the promise of a return call, and hear nothing....and start the process over the next morning.
Finally Tuesday evening, I couldn't sleep. I just laid there thinking about this, about this baseball season, about Coby still snoring in my ear...and that's when it finally happened. I let it go. Sing along...Let it go....let it go...ok, enough.
I finally just said, you take it Jesus. This is not my ball game, this is not my plan, and honestly my hands are not strong enough to hold all this. And Wednesday was the day the ball got rolling. God just needed me to be reminded WHO was in control here, and it's definitely not me. This is a gigantic step for me. I kinda like to be the one in charge, the one navigating the processes. But I couldn't keep going the way I was. I was crying every hour, every day. I was exhausted. I wanted to scream. Thank you, Jesus, for your hand on my shoulder telling me to just be still.
Now don't get me wrong....I'm still a little freaked out that this is even happening. But I know my God is bigger than this. Please continue to pray for me and my little guys as we are going through this. I love all of you for checking in on me, asking me how things are going, and encouraging me through this test of patience and faith. xoxoxox
Edit...minutes after I posted this, the doc called and rescheduled my apoiintment from 8 AM to 5 PM. The same time as Coby's vbs musical. And the patience testing continues as this Supermom is constantly being reminded she can't do it all.
For instance, today's vent/update is about this stupid tumor that no one seemed to really care about. And by "no one" I really mean anyone involved in the medical field.
I found out Friday, April 17 that I had this tumor and would be referred to Dr. Angel in Beaumont. On Wednesday, April 22, we decided I would go to Dr. David Baskins in Houston. After googling Dr. Baskins, I was very pleased and felt like I would be in good hands. The problem...actually getting in to see Dr. Baskins.
I called my doctor's office, the referral department, spoke with friends in the medical field about how this process should work...still not hearing anything about an appointment and getting completely conflicting reports on what next steps are.
By Monday, April 27, I finally received a phone call from the referral department of SETMA. They sent all my paperwork to Dr. Baskins office on the previous Thursday at 8:56 AM and I should have heard something from them by now.
I call Dr. Baskins office: We don't have anything on you...oh wait, yeah here it is.
Seriously?!? You've had my name since LAST Thursday and it took me calling you for you to find it? I was told she will fax orders to my local doc's office to get some labwork done here and will find me an appointment for this Thursday (that was yesterday by the way...in case you're not looking at a calendar and following along counting the days with me).
That didn't exactly happen. That was Monday. Finally by Wednesday the lab orders were done and Thursday I was told I have an appointment for NEXT Wednesday. This will be almost 3 weeks since learning about my little alien living in my head. I would like to name this little alien...suggestions?
Every day I would say, "That's it, I'm done." Meaning I'm not going to stress myself out, I'm not going to call the doctor, I'm just going to sit here and do nothing. Unfortunately, that's not me. I have called someone every day, heard the promise of a return call, and hear nothing....and start the process over the next morning.
Finally Tuesday evening, I couldn't sleep. I just laid there thinking about this, about this baseball season, about Coby still snoring in my ear...and that's when it finally happened. I let it go. Sing along...Let it go....let it go...ok, enough.
I finally just said, you take it Jesus. This is not my ball game, this is not my plan, and honestly my hands are not strong enough to hold all this. And Wednesday was the day the ball got rolling. God just needed me to be reminded WHO was in control here, and it's definitely not me. This is a gigantic step for me. I kinda like to be the one in charge, the one navigating the processes. But I couldn't keep going the way I was. I was crying every hour, every day. I was exhausted. I wanted to scream. Thank you, Jesus, for your hand on my shoulder telling me to just be still.
Now don't get me wrong....I'm still a little freaked out that this is even happening. But I know my God is bigger than this. Please continue to pray for me and my little guys as we are going through this. I love all of you for checking in on me, asking me how things are going, and encouraging me through this test of patience and faith. xoxoxox
Edit...minutes after I posted this, the doc called and rescheduled my apoiintment from 8 AM to 5 PM. The same time as Coby's vbs musical. And the patience testing continues as this Supermom is constantly being reminded she can't do it all.
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