My first born is about to be a bona fide adult. In the legal term of course. I don't know if I would send him out in the world just yet. Plus he's made it clear that Coby will probably grow up and move out before he does. Yeah, he knows he's got it good. When I think back over the past 18 years, I'm just so blessed. But God knew what he was doing, even though at the time we weren't so sure.
18 years and 8 months ago, a plus sign (not an "X" that means negative, Ashley Grey!) turned my world upside down. I had to make the hardest phone call of my life. I had to tell my parents that I was pregnant. I wasn't married. I wasn't financially secure. Heck, I was just barely old enough to vote. And during my second month off at college, I have to call my minister daddy and devout Christian mom, and tell them their teenage daughter was going to have a baby. I waited for the screaming and yelling and crying. If that happened, I never witnessed it. My dad calmly said, "Ok, we'll get through this." And we did.
I was terrified...at that moment, not of being a mom, but of judgment. What would my parents think of me? What would my friends think of me? What would my church think of me? You know what they thought? They thought, "We love this girl. We don't know why this happened, but it is in God's plan. We will forgive her and we will embrace her and her child."
18 years and 5 months ago, after my first semester at college ended, I made another big decision. I would not get married. There was a little shock at this decision, but not by mom. I could hear her sigh of relief. She knew that we would be okay and the support continued.
18 years and 4 months ago, I went back to college. I grew over the semester and a desk without a chair attached had to be brought in. Thanks to an especially boring History class, I doodled a lot and decided on the perfect name for my bundle. I finished the semester with just a few weeks to spare. If I was going to be able to provide for this little "pearl" I had to get my education. I was not going to change my course of action, he would just have to go along for the ride.
18 years and 1 day ago, I went to bed a pregnant teenager. I woke up bright and early in the morning, physically knowing this was the day I was going to meet my Chaston Dane and become a mom. Sure enough, June 12, 1997, 10:44 PM he made his rocket fast appearance. So fast, he hit a couple speed bumps on the way out and had a nice knot on his head that didn't recede until he was about 6 weeks old.
For 18 years, I have been a mom. And I have loved (almost) every minute of it. I was made to be a mom, I didn't know it then...but I know now. And I got to raise Chaston. Life just doesn't get much better than that!
Where can I even start to explain the awesomeness that is Chaston Dane Miller? He was born to a teenage mom, in a "broken" home (I use this term lightly, because by my standards our home was far from broken...in fact it's pretty awesome), and not without some drama. But most people don't know some of the struggles we've had. Because of the support of my parents, our friends, and especially our church and pastor...Chaston has beaten the odds. He is smart, he is funny, he is a natural leader, he is gifted, he is talented, he is an amazing big brother, he smells like a rotting gym sock, he can't clean his room or put dirty dishes in the dishwasher. And I absolutely, unashamedly adore him.
Single parenting is not a breeze. There have been moments of panic as I wonder how in the world am I going to do this? I can't do this! I need help!
I have my parents to thank for helping me to make it look easy. They do more for me than any husband could ever imagine doing. My dad has been an amazing father figure and coach. My mom has helped him with countless hours of homework and costume creating. They have been his cheerleader sitting right next to me, or sending me play by play texts when I'm unable to make a game or event. They have hugged us and let us cry when life got tough, and have been there to celebrate the many great times.
Chaston was born 18 minutes ago, not 18 years ago. Until you have children of your own (and yes, my animal parents, you count as having children), you can't understand how fast time flies by. One minute I'm changing diapers, watching Pre-K graduation, crying over timed math facts tests....the next minute, we're scheduling senior pics and getting ready for prom. Savor every moment, the good ones and the bad, help your child learn from any life experience. They might not thank you now, but they will. Chaston is learning this quickly as he grows up. Leave wet clothes in the washing machine for 4 days and they start to smell, especially after a cycle in the dryer. I pointed this out as he was getting dressed and he couldn't understand why they smelled so bad. He asked if I knew those clothes had been in there. Yep. He got quiet...a few minutes later he said, "A good mom would have moved the clothes to the dryer 3 days ago. But now I realize a GREAT mom would help me to learn a lesson." BAM!!! They get it folks!! You just have to have patience and love them and teach them.
Psalm 127:3 says: Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him.
I have been rewarded this young man, even in my sin, but have also been tasked with raising him for the Lord. I'm responsible for raising God's child...just a little daunting. Thank God for Grace, right? We aren't perfect, but He knows I try. Chaston has a yearning to work in the ministry, and every day that I see him live for the Lord I see the pearl in the sandstorm and know that God knew exactly what He was doing....18 years ago.
Thursday, June 11, 2015
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
Our own worst enemies
So something happened at a swimming party yesterday that I cannot get out of my head. And when that happens, there's no choice but to just get it all out here.
We were at a hotel this weekend and Coby swam for HOURS. He was a shriveled mess when he finally got out and he had a blast. That boy loves the water! But we went to a swimming party yesterday and while he had told me how excited he was, he slowly walked to the edge of the pool and just stood there. I nudged him to take his tank off and dive in. He walked away and hung his head. What is going on here? I followed him and started pulling his shirt off, but he held his arms down at his sides and fought me. He said, "I don't want them to think I'm fat."
Oh no! My heart hurt. He's not fat by any means! He's not even "husky" by any standards. But he has it in his head that he is fat. Where did that come from? I've done nothing but tell him how awesome, how cute, how smart, how funny he is!
I finally yanked the tank top off him, kissed the top of his head and he dove in. I thought that conversation was over. Fifteen minutes later I hear a child's voice squeal, "You have a big ol' belly!" My head jerks up and I lock eyes with Coby across the pool. No, this didn't just happen. His eyes are filled with shock and pain and blame at me for making him get undressed, then he lowers his head and slowly sinks under the water. When he comes back up, I'm already on my feet running to him. "Did someone just say that to you?? Did someone just say you had a big belly?" He nods his head and points to the boy next to him. I very calmly (this took ALOT of restraint) explained to the boy that wasn't a nice thing to say, it was very hurtful and he shouldn't say things like that to his friends. I then knelt down and looked my Coby Bear in the eye and told him he was perfect in every way and to ignore anyone that says anything negative about him. The party ended with no more issues and he had a good time. But needless to say, I can't shake the look he had in his eyes.
I had to walk away from Coby with tears in my eyes, much like they are now. I can't imagine how this crushed him at SEVEN years old when all they have to define themselves is by their friends. Coby is so many things: he is so funny, kind hearted, loves Jesus and his family, smart, enjoys reading, was awesome at first base this season, and not a bad little athlete all around. There are so many other descriptors to define my baby, other than FAT. But FAT is what sticks in his head, and now he believes that one of his peers confirms that concern.
Have I done this to him? I have defined my success in life by my weight. I have always wanted to be thin and have accomplished it a few times at extreme measures. Coby knows it's my constant struggle and is aware of my surgeries I've had to "get weak"...weak means skinny in Coby-isms. He's heard me mutter under my breath, "I'm so fat...this is disgusting." He's looked at old pics with me and heard me say, "I was so skinny then, now I'm just a fatty."
So when I look at him and tell him he's not fat, but that's he's perfect...he can't correlate the two. "How can Mommy look at her body and say it's disgusting, but I look at mine and it's supposed to be perfect?" Is that what's in his mind?
I am devestated. I work hard to teach my kids the rights and wrongs in life, to know Jesus, to be nice to others, to love everyone and be compassionate. But did I fail them on how to treat themselves?
Why is it okay for us to say the most foul things about ourselves, to ourselves? I blog quite often about how God made us flawless, how awesome it is to know that He made us perfectly imperfect just the way he planned. But as soon as I hit the "publish" button, I can't stand to look in the mirror.
Here's just a few verses that explains what God has to say about beauty and appearance:
Psalm 139:14
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
1 Samuel 16:7
But the LORD said to Samuel, "Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart."
Proverbs 31:30
Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.
I have failed to truly believe that God made me to praise Him....not for others to praise ME. And I have failed to teach that to my children. This changes now. I can not and will not let Coby grow up to have the same issues that I have now. He will know that God made him for a bigger purpose than to have others admire him for the way he looks. He is so much more...and so am I....and so are you!
We were at a hotel this weekend and Coby swam for HOURS. He was a shriveled mess when he finally got out and he had a blast. That boy loves the water! But we went to a swimming party yesterday and while he had told me how excited he was, he slowly walked to the edge of the pool and just stood there. I nudged him to take his tank off and dive in. He walked away and hung his head. What is going on here? I followed him and started pulling his shirt off, but he held his arms down at his sides and fought me. He said, "I don't want them to think I'm fat."
Oh no! My heart hurt. He's not fat by any means! He's not even "husky" by any standards. But he has it in his head that he is fat. Where did that come from? I've done nothing but tell him how awesome, how cute, how smart, how funny he is!
I finally yanked the tank top off him, kissed the top of his head and he dove in. I thought that conversation was over. Fifteen minutes later I hear a child's voice squeal, "You have a big ol' belly!" My head jerks up and I lock eyes with Coby across the pool. No, this didn't just happen. His eyes are filled with shock and pain and blame at me for making him get undressed, then he lowers his head and slowly sinks under the water. When he comes back up, I'm already on my feet running to him. "Did someone just say that to you?? Did someone just say you had a big belly?" He nods his head and points to the boy next to him. I very calmly (this took ALOT of restraint) explained to the boy that wasn't a nice thing to say, it was very hurtful and he shouldn't say things like that to his friends. I then knelt down and looked my Coby Bear in the eye and told him he was perfect in every way and to ignore anyone that says anything negative about him. The party ended with no more issues and he had a good time. But needless to say, I can't shake the look he had in his eyes.
I had to walk away from Coby with tears in my eyes, much like they are now. I can't imagine how this crushed him at SEVEN years old when all they have to define themselves is by their friends. Coby is so many things: he is so funny, kind hearted, loves Jesus and his family, smart, enjoys reading, was awesome at first base this season, and not a bad little athlete all around. There are so many other descriptors to define my baby, other than FAT. But FAT is what sticks in his head, and now he believes that one of his peers confirms that concern.
Have I done this to him? I have defined my success in life by my weight. I have always wanted to be thin and have accomplished it a few times at extreme measures. Coby knows it's my constant struggle and is aware of my surgeries I've had to "get weak"...weak means skinny in Coby-isms. He's heard me mutter under my breath, "I'm so fat...this is disgusting." He's looked at old pics with me and heard me say, "I was so skinny then, now I'm just a fatty."
So when I look at him and tell him he's not fat, but that's he's perfect...he can't correlate the two. "How can Mommy look at her body and say it's disgusting, but I look at mine and it's supposed to be perfect?" Is that what's in his mind?
I am devestated. I work hard to teach my kids the rights and wrongs in life, to know Jesus, to be nice to others, to love everyone and be compassionate. But did I fail them on how to treat themselves?
Why is it okay for us to say the most foul things about ourselves, to ourselves? I blog quite often about how God made us flawless, how awesome it is to know that He made us perfectly imperfect just the way he planned. But as soon as I hit the "publish" button, I can't stand to look in the mirror.
Here's just a few verses that explains what God has to say about beauty and appearance:
Psalm 139:14
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
1 Samuel 16:7
But the LORD said to Samuel, "Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart."
Proverbs 31:30
Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.
I have failed to truly believe that God made me to praise Him....not for others to praise ME. And I have failed to teach that to my children. This changes now. I can not and will not let Coby grow up to have the same issues that I have now. He will know that God made him for a bigger purpose than to have others admire him for the way he looks. He is so much more...and so am I....and so are you!
Sunday, May 31, 2015
I'm me, imperfections and all
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
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
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.
Friday, April 17, 2015
What's in a brain?
Still not losing weight. Eating 900-1100 calories a day, adding in working out when possible. Still nothing. Not. One. Single. Pound. And I have a lot of whining to do.
Oh, and now my face is breaking out. Like pimples and dry patches and all kinds of weirdness. I had to steal my teenage son's Proactiv. Yeah, it's that bad.
Oh, and the headaches. OMG....the headaches! I had two migraines last month. TWO! I have only had two other migraines in my life and to suffer through two more in the same month was horrific!
So off to my primary doc I go...well, she's really a nurse practitioner, but I heart her and it's easier to say doc. Anywho....I figured if I'm going to be a migraine person now, I should have some meds on hand. She decided to order an MRI, just to get an idea if anything changed since my subdural hematoma debaucle. That's fine, just put an order for Xanax in with that as this momma has some serious claustrophobia issues and I'm not voluntarily squeezing in a 10 inch tube for close to an hour. No way!
That MRI was done on a Monday (no one was hurt in the process, though the nurse held my hand for a while calming my panic attack). Thursday, I get the phone call....there was "something" seen on my pituitary gland and we need to get another MRI stat. Tears....panic....overactive imagination is the bane of my existence. I have to see Coby graduate. I am meant to have grand babies. I could possibly get married a few more times, who knows?!? It's not my time yet!!!! Stay away from the light! I have no idea why people think I'm a drama queen....moving on.
Well after some run around and a few days of panic and asking what their definition of "stat" is, I finally get another MRI done on Wednesday. Thursday the phone call of "Libby needs to see you in her office tomorrow morning." sigh......
Here we are Friday afternoon. And we keep repeating the mantra that the word tumor simply means "a mass of cells" and does not mean cancer. Why even say tumor when we can say micradenoma? Which is smaller than a macroadenoma. So far, so good. I mean, if I'm going to have a brain tumor, THIS is the kind to have, right?!
Oh and did I mention that this type of "mass of cells" totally messes with hormones. They can cause weight gain, acne, headaches....GASP!!! You mean THIS could be why my body has been forsaking me?? Let's rip this sucker out!!
So I am being referred to neurosurgeon Dr. Angel in Beaumont to discuss surgery. Since all of this started, I've been daydreaming of experimenting with wigs since they're going to have shave my head and cut open my skull and and and....what?!?! He goes up my nose?? So much for that hot pink bob I was looking at online. Or the Kim Zolciak line of wigs I was day dreaming about (google her, she's kind of a hot amazing mess with FABULOUS wigs!).
Yeah, obviously humor and sarcasm is my choice of defense mechanisms. I have very brief moments of pure panic, then I move on. Like really....this could be soooo much worse. This is really just a nuisance that needs to be taken care of. Right now, I'm very calm. I know God has a plan, and this is just part of it. This is another story in my book of life adventures. This is just another way to meet my insurance out of pocket expenses for the year.
But really, please pray. Pray for the surgeon, that together we will come up with a plan and course of action that will nip this in the bud. Pray for my kiddos. Chaston is putting on a brave face, but I know he is nervous, texting me every afternoon checking on me, when he should be in class focusing on that Pre-cal test he should have aced. Coby is kind of oblivious, which is just fine with me. He's so my kid that he would worry way too much and immediately go to worse case scenario, but would try to turn it for good and would probably pretend that I'm going to be a zombie. Pray for my parents as they have to put up with my meltdowns and over sarcastic comments. Pray for my mom that she is able to hunt down Dr. Derrick Shepard like she promised, and not Amelia because we all know she kind of has a drug problem following her and was so mean to Dr. Hunt last night.
And yeah, pray for me and my head. We could use it. xoxoxoxox
Oh, and now my face is breaking out. Like pimples and dry patches and all kinds of weirdness. I had to steal my teenage son's Proactiv. Yeah, it's that bad.
Oh, and the headaches. OMG....the headaches! I had two migraines last month. TWO! I have only had two other migraines in my life and to suffer through two more in the same month was horrific!
So off to my primary doc I go...well, she's really a nurse practitioner, but I heart her and it's easier to say doc. Anywho....I figured if I'm going to be a migraine person now, I should have some meds on hand. She decided to order an MRI, just to get an idea if anything changed since my subdural hematoma debaucle. That's fine, just put an order for Xanax in with that as this momma has some serious claustrophobia issues and I'm not voluntarily squeezing in a 10 inch tube for close to an hour. No way!
That MRI was done on a Monday (no one was hurt in the process, though the nurse held my hand for a while calming my panic attack). Thursday, I get the phone call....there was "something" seen on my pituitary gland and we need to get another MRI stat. Tears....panic....overactive imagination is the bane of my existence. I have to see Coby graduate. I am meant to have grand babies. I could possibly get married a few more times, who knows?!? It's not my time yet!!!! Stay away from the light! I have no idea why people think I'm a drama queen....moving on.
Well after some run around and a few days of panic and asking what their definition of "stat" is, I finally get another MRI done on Wednesday. Thursday the phone call of "Libby needs to see you in her office tomorrow morning." sigh......
Here we are Friday afternoon. And we keep repeating the mantra that the word tumor simply means "a mass of cells" and does not mean cancer. Why even say tumor when we can say micradenoma? Which is smaller than a macroadenoma. So far, so good. I mean, if I'm going to have a brain tumor, THIS is the kind to have, right?!
Oh and did I mention that this type of "mass of cells" totally messes with hormones. They can cause weight gain, acne, headaches....GASP!!! You mean THIS could be why my body has been forsaking me?? Let's rip this sucker out!!
So I am being referred to neurosurgeon Dr. Angel in Beaumont to discuss surgery. Since all of this started, I've been daydreaming of experimenting with wigs since they're going to have shave my head and cut open my skull and and and....what?!?! He goes up my nose?? So much for that hot pink bob I was looking at online. Or the Kim Zolciak line of wigs I was day dreaming about (google her, she's kind of a hot amazing mess with FABULOUS wigs!).
Yeah, obviously humor and sarcasm is my choice of defense mechanisms. I have very brief moments of pure panic, then I move on. Like really....this could be soooo much worse. This is really just a nuisance that needs to be taken care of. Right now, I'm very calm. I know God has a plan, and this is just part of it. This is another story in my book of life adventures. This is just another way to meet my insurance out of pocket expenses for the year.
But really, please pray. Pray for the surgeon, that together we will come up with a plan and course of action that will nip this in the bud. Pray for my kiddos. Chaston is putting on a brave face, but I know he is nervous, texting me every afternoon checking on me, when he should be in class focusing on that Pre-cal test he should have aced. Coby is kind of oblivious, which is just fine with me. He's so my kid that he would worry way too much and immediately go to worse case scenario, but would try to turn it for good and would probably pretend that I'm going to be a zombie. Pray for my parents as they have to put up with my meltdowns and over sarcastic comments. Pray for my mom that she is able to hunt down Dr. Derrick Shepard like she promised, and not Amelia because we all know she kind of has a drug problem following her and was so mean to Dr. Hunt last night.
And yeah, pray for me and my head. We could use it. xoxoxoxox
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
One month...
It's time for a new blog post and I have so many thoughts swirling through my head, that I hope I can somehow put them here in some coherent form.
Let's look at the past few weeks strictly on a number and dramatized reaction to said numbers basis:
1/12/15 -- Lost 10 pounds
Reaction: WOOHOO!
1/19/15 -- Lost 0 pounds
Reaction: Huh?
1/26/15 -- Lost nada pounds
Reaction: Is this thing working?!
2/2/15 -- Lost zip, zilch, zero pounds
Reaction: Went and bought a new scale thinking old scale has become senile and stubborn in its old age. No such luck, reads exactly the same as the old scale. Boxed new one back up and returned to store.
2/6/15 -- Lost 3 pounds
Reaction: It's about gosh darn time! But only THREE?!?! Seriously?!? And now I fear that this was a fluke and those 3 pounds, and then some, will creep back on by next weigh in.
So one month in and I'm down a whopping 13 pounds and I'm not exactly thrilled with this. My expectations so far have not been met, at all! Are my expectations unrealistic? I have no idea. I didn't think so based on my research and visiting with others who had this procedure done. But now I question everything I ever thought about my potential success.
One major issue that this lack of weight loss has caused: my fashionista needs are not being met! I stopped buying clothes a month before the surgery, knowing I wouldn't be this size for much longer. I have 2 pairs of jeans, one dress, and a handful of tops that fit. Thank goodness for tights and leggings that I can kind of switch up the looks. But it's so frustrating!
I just knew in my heart that I would be down at least one size by now. Nope. I keep pulling out jeans and trying them on, crossing my fingers that maybe they'll button. Nope.
People keep asking how I'm doing, looking for an update. I respond, "I'm feeling great. All healed up," avoiding the subject of weight loss. What I want to say is, "OMG! I can't believe I just went through all this for NOTHING! I feel fine, but I am still FAT!" But I don't want to scare people off, so I just answer with my canned response and come here to vent and cry and stomp my fingers.
I have logged everything I eat in the MyFitnessPal app on my phone. I have anywhere from 600 to 800 calories a day. I have yet to eat over 1000 calories and very rarely get up to 900. I also take in about 70 grams of protein (60 is the recommended by the nutritionist). I have done this, not only to keep myself in check, but also to show the doctor and/or nutritionist when I have my 6 week follow up next week. I am praying that they will be able to show or tell me what I'm doing wrong or offer some reassurances that I am on the right track and the weight will start magically falling off.
I had my first weekend at home since the surgery without the boys a couple weekends ago. It was the longest weekend of my life. Here's where it gets difficult for a binge eater...being alone with no one to judge or stop your addictive lifestyle (more about this in a future blog post...contrary to popular belief anorexia and bulimia are not the only eating disorders). Those alone weekends, I would eat and eat and eat, hoping at some point I would just get full or fill that empty hole that needs filling. And there was no one there to see, which means it didn't happen, right? Wrong, I know.
But my first alone weekend was a success. I did very well. Well....I didn't hardly leave the house and spent lots of time just sitting and watching tv and watching the clock til an acceptable time to go to bed so that I wouldn't be tempted to gorge myself. So I battled the demons that weekend and won. I felt like that should have earned a 5 pound weight loss right there. But nope. I will battle this demon every day and every weekend. Food is my heroin.
This is just exhausting.
I just hope something happens sooner rather than later. This is all I think about. This is all I talk about. This is all I dream about while tossing and turning, fretting that I will be the one who can not lose weight like this. That all of this was for nothing.
Sorry for such a Debbie Downer of a blog post, but this is real life folks. And since day one, I promised that I would be brutally honest...not just with you, but also with myself. If there is just one person that reads this and it helps them to feel like they're not alone in their journey, then I have achieved the purpose of this blog.
Thanks for reading....
Let's look at the past few weeks strictly on a number and dramatized reaction to said numbers basis:
1/12/15 -- Lost 10 pounds
Reaction: WOOHOO!
1/19/15 -- Lost 0 pounds
Reaction: Huh?
1/26/15 -- Lost nada pounds
Reaction: Is this thing working?!
2/2/15 -- Lost zip, zilch, zero pounds
Reaction: Went and bought a new scale thinking old scale has become senile and stubborn in its old age. No such luck, reads exactly the same as the old scale. Boxed new one back up and returned to store.
2/6/15 -- Lost 3 pounds
Reaction: It's about gosh darn time! But only THREE?!?! Seriously?!? And now I fear that this was a fluke and those 3 pounds, and then some, will creep back on by next weigh in.
So one month in and I'm down a whopping 13 pounds and I'm not exactly thrilled with this. My expectations so far have not been met, at all! Are my expectations unrealistic? I have no idea. I didn't think so based on my research and visiting with others who had this procedure done. But now I question everything I ever thought about my potential success.
One major issue that this lack of weight loss has caused: my fashionista needs are not being met! I stopped buying clothes a month before the surgery, knowing I wouldn't be this size for much longer. I have 2 pairs of jeans, one dress, and a handful of tops that fit. Thank goodness for tights and leggings that I can kind of switch up the looks. But it's so frustrating!
I just knew in my heart that I would be down at least one size by now. Nope. I keep pulling out jeans and trying them on, crossing my fingers that maybe they'll button. Nope.
People keep asking how I'm doing, looking for an update. I respond, "I'm feeling great. All healed up," avoiding the subject of weight loss. What I want to say is, "OMG! I can't believe I just went through all this for NOTHING! I feel fine, but I am still FAT!" But I don't want to scare people off, so I just answer with my canned response and come here to vent and cry and stomp my fingers.
I have logged everything I eat in the MyFitnessPal app on my phone. I have anywhere from 600 to 800 calories a day. I have yet to eat over 1000 calories and very rarely get up to 900. I also take in about 70 grams of protein (60 is the recommended by the nutritionist). I have done this, not only to keep myself in check, but also to show the doctor and/or nutritionist when I have my 6 week follow up next week. I am praying that they will be able to show or tell me what I'm doing wrong or offer some reassurances that I am on the right track and the weight will start magically falling off.
I had my first weekend at home since the surgery without the boys a couple weekends ago. It was the longest weekend of my life. Here's where it gets difficult for a binge eater...being alone with no one to judge or stop your addictive lifestyle (more about this in a future blog post...contrary to popular belief anorexia and bulimia are not the only eating disorders). Those alone weekends, I would eat and eat and eat, hoping at some point I would just get full or fill that empty hole that needs filling. And there was no one there to see, which means it didn't happen, right? Wrong, I know.
But my first alone weekend was a success. I did very well. Well....I didn't hardly leave the house and spent lots of time just sitting and watching tv and watching the clock til an acceptable time to go to bed so that I wouldn't be tempted to gorge myself. So I battled the demons that weekend and won. I felt like that should have earned a 5 pound weight loss right there. But nope. I will battle this demon every day and every weekend. Food is my heroin.
This is just exhausting.
I just hope something happens sooner rather than later. This is all I think about. This is all I talk about. This is all I dream about while tossing and turning, fretting that I will be the one who can not lose weight like this. That all of this was for nothing.
Sorry for such a Debbie Downer of a blog post, but this is real life folks. And since day one, I promised that I would be brutally honest...not just with you, but also with myself. If there is just one person that reads this and it helps them to feel like they're not alone in their journey, then I have achieved the purpose of this blog.
Thanks for reading....
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
Why am I not a size 10 yet? I'll settle for a 12....
Two weeks later and I'm wondering how am I still fat?! I can gain 20 pounds in a week, but I can't lose it that fast? IT'S NOT FAIR!!! Yes, I'm stomping my feet and waving my fists in the air, much like a petulant child that was told "no" when asking for a quarter at the bubble gum machine.
Ok, now that THAT is out of the way....where do I begin?
What a long, but speedy, 2 weeks. Gosh that makes no sense, but that's what it has been.
My surgery went fine, got a little hernia repair along with the sleeve. I will say right off the bat....that was painful. Had it not been for that little booger, it might not have been the worst thing I've ever experienced. My doc warned me that the day after surgery I would hate him and ask why did I ever let him do this to me. He wasn't kidding. I was also the lucky subject of a swallow test. This meant I had to transfer from my bed, to a stretcher, to a very VERY hard table (that would lift to a standing position and then made me turn on my sides), back to a stretcher, back to my bed....all less than 24 hours after he made SIX holes in my belly and ripped out a majority of my stomach and stitched/repaired a hernia in my belly button and had what felt like a 4 foot tube and drain dragging from my side.
Then to add insult to injury, my meals were served in medicine cups. Broth, water, tea...clear liquids...in a teeny tiny medicine cup. This for the girl that could put down an entire bag of salt & vinegar potato chips in about 10 minutes. But...I couldn't even get the broth, water, or tea down. YUCK! For several days after surgery, it was all I could do to drink a bottled water. And it would take all day to get that bottle down. But I did. Dr. Dean stressed how important staying hydrated was. He said the most common complication after surgery is dehydration. I was not going to be THAT statistic! So gurgle down the water as best I could and hope it stayed down!
Dramatic? Eh...would you expect anything less from me?
Walking...walking the halls made all the difference in recovery. I hated getting in and out of that hospital bed, but once I was out, I could move pretty good. Holding my gown in place, pushing my IV down the hall...I challenged another sleever to a race. Bless her heart, she was on day 2 (I was on day 3), and she had the dreaded case of "WHAT DID I DO?!" I told her to give it another 24 hours and she would feel better. She didn't much look like she believed me. LOL!
Thank goodness for my parents, once again, my hero parents deserve every award in the book for taking care of me, putting up with me, doctoring me, taxiing me...and all they did to help with my kids...I just can't say Thanks enough! Really, how do I nominate them for sainthood? I could have statues commissioned. Mom would be holding a little sewing machine and coupons to JoAnns and Dad a baseball, camera, and bible. Wouldn't they be adorbs??
There was a night I decided to try to go to my house even though my parents asked me to stay with them a couple more nights. But with my hard head, I told them no, I could do it myself. When trying to get out of my super fluffy comfy recliner, I had to use way too much effort and it felt like a knife stabbing and ripping my abdomen. There I was stuck on the edge of the recliner. I couldn't get up, I couldn't move back. I hollered for Chaston who came running and found me in tears. I told him I couldn't move. I quote him: "Well mom, what's your options here? You just gonna sit like that all night?" And then he gave me a look that is one that will work wonders on his children when they say they can't do something. Hmph! So back to my parents we went for a couple more nights.
Now I'm not one to wallow in the pain and misery. Surgery on Tuesday...but mommy duty called on Saturday. So up and ready I got, time for a basketball game and a walk around the mall to try to get stronger. I lasted about 4 hours. Then done. So tired and sore. I tried to move around every day, but some days I just couldn't muster the energy. And those days I didn't move, I could tell. I would get very sore and harder to get up and down.
Okay, enough about all the pain...it goes away....eventually. On to the food stuffs...
Clear liquids. They suck. Here are a couple of tips: the veggie/tortilla soup from Casa Ole. Ask for as little veggies and as runny as possible. Delightful after only having survived through broth and Gatorade. Lipton's noodle soup...but leave out the noodles. While it might look like chicken broth, it does have some seasoning and flavor to it. With both of these soups (one order of Casa Ole and one packet of noodle soup) will last you the whole week. Because ain't much going down folks. And in the early days, every sip you take, you can hear go all the way down the hatch. Gurgle, gurgle...
Full liquids was the hardest week for me. This bumps up the options to protein shakes, cream soups, and pudding. I found a great chocolate cheesecake protein pudding that really helped with this stage. Also, Jason's Deli tomato basil soup was great (the best way to have this is at home after putting through the blender).
This week I'm on purees. I've found some good recipes on Pinterest, the best being Ricotta Bake. YUMMO! And of course tuna salad, crab salad, chicken salad, refried beans...whatever you can put in a blender, food processor, or your Ninja (like me!). But be warned...ain't not much going down! I've said it before and I'll say it again, the sleeve is doing its job!
The hardest part....the head stuff...the habit stuff. The sleeve does not take away the desire for snacking, munching when you're not supposed to. You know what I'm talking about...that up and down, hand to mouth motion, picking up a chip...bringing it to my mouth, crunch, munch...oh so good. I have NOT done this. Dr. Dean has done a great job of scaring me on the eating stages, enough so that I won't be jumping ahead and am happy with my purees, but only at meal time! When I feel the need to snack, I get a shake or water and let that try to fill that need for hand to mouth motion. This is where I pray for healing the most. The head stuff.
Now weight wise. I lost 5 pounds on the preop diet. I lost 10 pounds the week after surgery. And nothing since then. Nothing. Zero. Nada. I know I wasn't going to lose 50 pounds, but SOMETHING to show that this was all worth it. I didn't do much of anything last week, really just sat around the house while the boys were at school. I'm thinking...and hoping....that this did not help the situation. I went back to work today and that was the most active thing I've done in 2 weeks. I hope and pray as I move more and recover that the weight will start dropping. I can't have gone from eating like a disgusting pig to a tiny infant and not see results! This can't have been for nothing. I won't allow it.
So that's it. Whew...it was a lot, huh?
One more thing before I sign off....thank you. Thank you to all of you who texted, messaged, prayed, offered assistance with the boys. I love you all so much and can't imagine having done this without your support and acceptance and love. I'm overwhelmed...and a little verklempt over it all...talk amongst yourselves....sniff, sniff...
Can't wait to see what the rest of this crazy ride serves up...BRING IT!
Ok, now that THAT is out of the way....where do I begin?
What a long, but speedy, 2 weeks. Gosh that makes no sense, but that's what it has been.
My surgery went fine, got a little hernia repair along with the sleeve. I will say right off the bat....that was painful. Had it not been for that little booger, it might not have been the worst thing I've ever experienced. My doc warned me that the day after surgery I would hate him and ask why did I ever let him do this to me. He wasn't kidding. I was also the lucky subject of a swallow test. This meant I had to transfer from my bed, to a stretcher, to a very VERY hard table (that would lift to a standing position and then made me turn on my sides), back to a stretcher, back to my bed....all less than 24 hours after he made SIX holes in my belly and ripped out a majority of my stomach and stitched/repaired a hernia in my belly button and had what felt like a 4 foot tube and drain dragging from my side.
Then to add insult to injury, my meals were served in medicine cups. Broth, water, tea...clear liquids...in a teeny tiny medicine cup. This for the girl that could put down an entire bag of salt & vinegar potato chips in about 10 minutes. But...I couldn't even get the broth, water, or tea down. YUCK! For several days after surgery, it was all I could do to drink a bottled water. And it would take all day to get that bottle down. But I did. Dr. Dean stressed how important staying hydrated was. He said the most common complication after surgery is dehydration. I was not going to be THAT statistic! So gurgle down the water as best I could and hope it stayed down!
Dramatic? Eh...would you expect anything less from me?
Walking...walking the halls made all the difference in recovery. I hated getting in and out of that hospital bed, but once I was out, I could move pretty good. Holding my gown in place, pushing my IV down the hall...I challenged another sleever to a race. Bless her heart, she was on day 2 (I was on day 3), and she had the dreaded case of "WHAT DID I DO?!" I told her to give it another 24 hours and she would feel better. She didn't much look like she believed me. LOL!
Thank goodness for my parents, once again, my hero parents deserve every award in the book for taking care of me, putting up with me, doctoring me, taxiing me...and all they did to help with my kids...I just can't say Thanks enough! Really, how do I nominate them for sainthood? I could have statues commissioned. Mom would be holding a little sewing machine and coupons to JoAnns and Dad a baseball, camera, and bible. Wouldn't they be adorbs??
There was a night I decided to try to go to my house even though my parents asked me to stay with them a couple more nights. But with my hard head, I told them no, I could do it myself. When trying to get out of my super fluffy comfy recliner, I had to use way too much effort and it felt like a knife stabbing and ripping my abdomen. There I was stuck on the edge of the recliner. I couldn't get up, I couldn't move back. I hollered for Chaston who came running and found me in tears. I told him I couldn't move. I quote him: "Well mom, what's your options here? You just gonna sit like that all night?" And then he gave me a look that is one that will work wonders on his children when they say they can't do something. Hmph! So back to my parents we went for a couple more nights.
Now I'm not one to wallow in the pain and misery. Surgery on Tuesday...but mommy duty called on Saturday. So up and ready I got, time for a basketball game and a walk around the mall to try to get stronger. I lasted about 4 hours. Then done. So tired and sore. I tried to move around every day, but some days I just couldn't muster the energy. And those days I didn't move, I could tell. I would get very sore and harder to get up and down.
Okay, enough about all the pain...it goes away....eventually. On to the food stuffs...
Clear liquids. They suck. Here are a couple of tips: the veggie/tortilla soup from Casa Ole. Ask for as little veggies and as runny as possible. Delightful after only having survived through broth and Gatorade. Lipton's noodle soup...but leave out the noodles. While it might look like chicken broth, it does have some seasoning and flavor to it. With both of these soups (one order of Casa Ole and one packet of noodle soup) will last you the whole week. Because ain't much going down folks. And in the early days, every sip you take, you can hear go all the way down the hatch. Gurgle, gurgle...
Full liquids was the hardest week for me. This bumps up the options to protein shakes, cream soups, and pudding. I found a great chocolate cheesecake protein pudding that really helped with this stage. Also, Jason's Deli tomato basil soup was great (the best way to have this is at home after putting through the blender).
This week I'm on purees. I've found some good recipes on Pinterest, the best being Ricotta Bake. YUMMO! And of course tuna salad, crab salad, chicken salad, refried beans...whatever you can put in a blender, food processor, or your Ninja (like me!). But be warned...ain't not much going down! I've said it before and I'll say it again, the sleeve is doing its job!
The hardest part....the head stuff...the habit stuff. The sleeve does not take away the desire for snacking, munching when you're not supposed to. You know what I'm talking about...that up and down, hand to mouth motion, picking up a chip...bringing it to my mouth, crunch, munch...oh so good. I have NOT done this. Dr. Dean has done a great job of scaring me on the eating stages, enough so that I won't be jumping ahead and am happy with my purees, but only at meal time! When I feel the need to snack, I get a shake or water and let that try to fill that need for hand to mouth motion. This is where I pray for healing the most. The head stuff.
Now weight wise. I lost 5 pounds on the preop diet. I lost 10 pounds the week after surgery. And nothing since then. Nothing. Zero. Nada. I know I wasn't going to lose 50 pounds, but SOMETHING to show that this was all worth it. I didn't do much of anything last week, really just sat around the house while the boys were at school. I'm thinking...and hoping....that this did not help the situation. I went back to work today and that was the most active thing I've done in 2 weeks. I hope and pray as I move more and recover that the weight will start dropping. I can't have gone from eating like a disgusting pig to a tiny infant and not see results! This can't have been for nothing. I won't allow it.
So that's it. Whew...it was a lot, huh?
One more thing before I sign off....thank you. Thank you to all of you who texted, messaged, prayed, offered assistance with the boys. I love you all so much and can't imagine having done this without your support and acceptance and love. I'm overwhelmed...and a little verklempt over it all...talk amongst yourselves....sniff, sniff...
Can't wait to see what the rest of this crazy ride serves up...BRING IT!
Sunday, December 28, 2014
Why am I doing this?
"You're not that big." "You carry it so well." "You're so tall, you don't look that size."
That's what I hear. Every day. When people wonder why I'm going through with this surgery. So let me try to explain.
I am not comfortable and I can not stop. I eat until I hurt, almost as if it's my last meal. It's disgusting really. I have gained so much weight, it hurts to breathe. I can't stand to look in the mirror. But I can't make the changes needed without surgical intervention. There's a part of me that's actually looking forward to the liquid diet, my body needs it at this point. Of course, ask me about it on day 2 and I'm sure I'll have a different outlook for you.
I'm tired. Before I had the lapband removed earlier this year, I was tired and didn't feel good. The same is true now. I'm looking for a healthy, happy balance. And I know this will help me tremendously. Coby wants me to play. I have to go to ball games and band concerts and work and and and....and I just don't have the energy to carry myself there.
I'm ugly. I don't care what you say. This is how I feel. I have always struggled with my self esteem as I feel it is attached to the way I look. The only time I'm confident is when I'm being a mom. That...that I am good at. But in the back of my mind, I always wonder if the boys' friends and teachers are thinking, "Gosh, Coby/Chaston's mom has gotten so big. She used to be so pretty." I remember when Chaston was younger, like around Coby's age...he said, "I want you to lose weight so you can be skinny and pretty and get me a new daddy." This baby had no idea he had just tapped in to one of my darkest issues and hurt me. I would never tell him that, but I remember that like it was yesterday. If I were skinny, I could find a man, have more friends, be a better person and my family would be happier. I know these are lies Satan is having a field day planting in my brain. I've gotten better with this issue, but it's still there.
I don't want my kids to think fat is healthy. I can't have them look at me and think that if I can have a successful life as obese, then they can too. It's not healthy and I intend to be the best me for them.
Surgery isn't for everyone, that's why not everyone chooses it. Just like Weight Watchers, Nutrisystem, Paleo, Crossfit, etc isn't for everyone. You have to find the option that works for you and be awesome at it. And this is the direction I'm headed....to be awesome! That's why!
Footnote: I'm not tall. I'm 5'6"....okay, I'm really 5'5 and a half"....please don't forget that "and a half." I really need it.
That's what I hear. Every day. When people wonder why I'm going through with this surgery. So let me try to explain.
I am not comfortable and I can not stop. I eat until I hurt, almost as if it's my last meal. It's disgusting really. I have gained so much weight, it hurts to breathe. I can't stand to look in the mirror. But I can't make the changes needed without surgical intervention. There's a part of me that's actually looking forward to the liquid diet, my body needs it at this point. Of course, ask me about it on day 2 and I'm sure I'll have a different outlook for you.
I'm tired. Before I had the lapband removed earlier this year, I was tired and didn't feel good. The same is true now. I'm looking for a healthy, happy balance. And I know this will help me tremendously. Coby wants me to play. I have to go to ball games and band concerts and work and and and....and I just don't have the energy to carry myself there.
I'm ugly. I don't care what you say. This is how I feel. I have always struggled with my self esteem as I feel it is attached to the way I look. The only time I'm confident is when I'm being a mom. That...that I am good at. But in the back of my mind, I always wonder if the boys' friends and teachers are thinking, "Gosh, Coby/Chaston's mom has gotten so big. She used to be so pretty." I remember when Chaston was younger, like around Coby's age...he said, "I want you to lose weight so you can be skinny and pretty and get me a new daddy." This baby had no idea he had just tapped in to one of my darkest issues and hurt me. I would never tell him that, but I remember that like it was yesterday. If I were skinny, I could find a man, have more friends, be a better person and my family would be happier. I know these are lies Satan is having a field day planting in my brain. I've gotten better with this issue, but it's still there.
I don't want my kids to think fat is healthy. I can't have them look at me and think that if I can have a successful life as obese, then they can too. It's not healthy and I intend to be the best me for them.
Surgery isn't for everyone, that's why not everyone chooses it. Just like Weight Watchers, Nutrisystem, Paleo, Crossfit, etc isn't for everyone. You have to find the option that works for you and be awesome at it. And this is the direction I'm headed....to be awesome! That's why!
Footnote: I'm not tall. I'm 5'6"....okay, I'm really 5'5 and a half"....please don't forget that "and a half." I really need it.
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
January 6, 2015: The day I start alllll over
FINALLY got the phone call to schedule my gastric sleeve surgery! I had asked for a date at the first of the year. Unfortunately, he couldn't do January 1. Go figure. So I'll take his first available date of January 6, first surgery of the day. Thank you very much!
I will meet with Dr. Dean on the December 29th and take the Diet Class (to get pre and post op diet instructions) on December 31. Because my BMI isn't THAT high, all things being relative I guess, I will only have to do a one week pre op diet. So yay for that! It's all going to happen so quickly, but I'm happy that I get to enjoy the Christmas festivities (which means food in my language) before starting my new journey.
My first surgery (Lap Band) was January something 2010. So almost exactly 5 years later, here I go again. Fairly weird that my blog title is "Stopping the Roller Coaster Ride" when that's all this has been...one big loopty loop and bumpy mess! Especially this year!
January of this year I weighed in around 195, about 50 pounds down from when I had the initial surgery. In June when I had the LB removed, I weighed in at a very unhealthy, dehydrated, anemic 137. Now at this surgery, I'm starting out at....ok, here it goes...deep breath....about 215. I hate that I said I would be honest through this entire process. Sheesh! 2014 was an emotionally, physically, mentally exhausting year to say the least. But it's time for something new and different, some great opportunities and challenges are ahead for 2015 and I can't wait!
I did just place an order for some plus size sweaters and jeans, not knowing how far in to the new year my surgery would be. I will be returning all that and continue looking longingly at the piles of jeans in my room ranging in sizes from 9-14. That should see me through for a while...maybe....but I'm sure I'll get the urge to go shopping soon enough.
So watch for updates and information of my newest journey into bariatric surgery. Good times ahead!!
I will meet with Dr. Dean on the December 29th and take the Diet Class (to get pre and post op diet instructions) on December 31. Because my BMI isn't THAT high, all things being relative I guess, I will only have to do a one week pre op diet. So yay for that! It's all going to happen so quickly, but I'm happy that I get to enjoy the Christmas festivities (which means food in my language) before starting my new journey.
My first surgery (Lap Band) was January something 2010. So almost exactly 5 years later, here I go again. Fairly weird that my blog title is "Stopping the Roller Coaster Ride" when that's all this has been...one big loopty loop and bumpy mess! Especially this year!
January of this year I weighed in around 195, about 50 pounds down from when I had the initial surgery. In June when I had the LB removed, I weighed in at a very unhealthy, dehydrated, anemic 137. Now at this surgery, I'm starting out at....ok, here it goes...deep breath....about 215. I hate that I said I would be honest through this entire process. Sheesh! 2014 was an emotionally, physically, mentally exhausting year to say the least. But it's time for something new and different, some great opportunities and challenges are ahead for 2015 and I can't wait!
I did just place an order for some plus size sweaters and jeans, not knowing how far in to the new year my surgery would be. I will be returning all that and continue looking longingly at the piles of jeans in my room ranging in sizes from 9-14. That should see me through for a while...maybe....but I'm sure I'll get the urge to go shopping soon enough.
So watch for updates and information of my newest journey into bariatric surgery. Good times ahead!!
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
This is life...real life
So all that talk about how I'm going to eat healthy and not gain much of the weight back and I'm in control...well that was just a load of hogwash. I tried low carb, like super low carb, less than 20 grams a day. Uh, that's hard...and expensive. Especially when you're also trying to feed 2 very picky, hungry boys. I did it for a few weeks with no results, other than gaining weight. So I just decided to do portion control, just not go hog wild and eat everything in site. Still bringing my home made salads for lunch, my protein shakes for breakfast...still gaining weight.
This is an absolutely amazing phenomenon to me. I lost about 60 pounds in 7 months. I've gained 50 in 2. Seriously. Not kidding. I started off this year in a size 16, was in an 8 when I had my LB removed at the end of June, back up to a 14. That fast. I am seriously gaining weight while I sleep, and breathe, and blink. I work out 3-4 times a week and this is doing nothing for me. My dad says I need to eat less or exercise more. I could exercise more, but who wants to do that? And eat less? Yeah, I could do that too.
What is my freaking problem? I think I'm just genetically predisposed to being fat. And I'm not okay with that, but can't spend hours in the gym and can't put the junk food down.
And why can't I be ok with being fat? With being obese? Why can't I accept me for WHO I am...not what I LOOK like...not for what size dress I wear?
And every day I notice little comments people make, or don't make. I used to hear every day how awesome I look, how thin I'm getting. Now I get comments like, "You look healthy today." HEALTHY? To me, that's someone saying I've filled out, put on some weight. Thanks for pointing that out! Or my favorite...I mentioned I had been cooking and someone said, "Really, 'cause it looks like you've been eating." I was stunned, especially since it was in a room full of people. You could feel the air get sucked out of the room. They tried to cover for him since I was brushing crumbs off my hand, that's what he meant. Doesn't matter, I will twist it to fit my sick little brain that thinks all comments are somehow directed at me being fat.
And I'm so self conscious. If people just look at me, I just know they're evaluating how much weight I've gained. They're thinking, "Oh, there's go Chrysta getting fat again."
I hate that I had the LB removed. Hate it. I felt like crap, but darn it, I looked good. Sheesh! What is wrong with my brain?! One of the reasons I had it taken out was my boyfriend hated how sick I was...that we couldn't have a meal together, I was always feeling tired. Whoops...lost the boyfriend. Now I'm fat and single. Just how I started this year. Amazing. Fantastic.
I have another follow up with Dr. Dean on Oct. 11. He seems to think that me checking in with him will help me keep a good weight. HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! I will be scheduling my surgery for the sleeve during that appointment.
This is not where you preach to me YOUR way of eating. YOUR lifestyle. Don't want to hear it. Don't need to hear it. Don't waste your breath. This is me and this is how I'm going to do it.
Bitter? Angry? Me? Nah....just being honest. I promised I would keep this blog real, that I would be honest about how this process is working out for me, not working out for me. The highs, the lows. And this is it. This is me. All 190 pounds of me.
This is an absolutely amazing phenomenon to me. I lost about 60 pounds in 7 months. I've gained 50 in 2. Seriously. Not kidding. I started off this year in a size 16, was in an 8 when I had my LB removed at the end of June, back up to a 14. That fast. I am seriously gaining weight while I sleep, and breathe, and blink. I work out 3-4 times a week and this is doing nothing for me. My dad says I need to eat less or exercise more. I could exercise more, but who wants to do that? And eat less? Yeah, I could do that too.
What is my freaking problem? I think I'm just genetically predisposed to being fat. And I'm not okay with that, but can't spend hours in the gym and can't put the junk food down.
And why can't I be ok with being fat? With being obese? Why can't I accept me for WHO I am...not what I LOOK like...not for what size dress I wear?
And every day I notice little comments people make, or don't make. I used to hear every day how awesome I look, how thin I'm getting. Now I get comments like, "You look healthy today." HEALTHY? To me, that's someone saying I've filled out, put on some weight. Thanks for pointing that out! Or my favorite...I mentioned I had been cooking and someone said, "Really, 'cause it looks like you've been eating." I was stunned, especially since it was in a room full of people. You could feel the air get sucked out of the room. They tried to cover for him since I was brushing crumbs off my hand, that's what he meant. Doesn't matter, I will twist it to fit my sick little brain that thinks all comments are somehow directed at me being fat.
And I'm so self conscious. If people just look at me, I just know they're evaluating how much weight I've gained. They're thinking, "Oh, there's go Chrysta getting fat again."
I hate that I had the LB removed. Hate it. I felt like crap, but darn it, I looked good. Sheesh! What is wrong with my brain?! One of the reasons I had it taken out was my boyfriend hated how sick I was...that we couldn't have a meal together, I was always feeling tired. Whoops...lost the boyfriend. Now I'm fat and single. Just how I started this year. Amazing. Fantastic.
I have another follow up with Dr. Dean on Oct. 11. He seems to think that me checking in with him will help me keep a good weight. HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! I will be scheduling my surgery for the sleeve during that appointment.
This is not where you preach to me YOUR way of eating. YOUR lifestyle. Don't want to hear it. Don't need to hear it. Don't waste your breath. This is me and this is how I'm going to do it.
Bitter? Angry? Me? Nah....just being honest. I promised I would keep this blog real, that I would be honest about how this process is working out for me, not working out for me. The highs, the lows. And this is it. This is me. All 190 pounds of me.
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Post Surgery Redux
Well, it's been almost a week since the surgery to have LB taken out. I have to say...I don't miss it one bit...yet. Just a little bit of honesty thrown in there.
Oh the sweet joy of being able to eat and drink and not make multiple trips to the restroom to throw up! Being able to sit in hour long meetings at work and not worry about every sip of water not making it down and needing to excuse myself. Knowing that I will be able to go on our planned trip to the beach this week and not starve myself because there is just no place to vomit discreetly out there. It's the little things, folks!
So surgery day...well...it was eventful to say the least. My family and friends know how to bring the party to a tiny room. Since I couldn't eat or drink anything since midnight the night before, and I wasn't taken back to surgery til well after 3 PM, I was starving! But they all kept me preoccupied and in giggles. And I'm sure they will tell you that no one can rock a gown, JiffyPop hat, compression hose, and a smile like I can. Ha!
Some of the most memorable post-surgery events (of which I had to be told about):
1. This one I remember -- when I woke up in recovery, the man next to me who was also coming out of his anesthesia, apparently had a full bladder and he let everyone know. The nurses kept telling him he had a catheter and he could pee any time he wanted. Finally one nurse just told him to LET IT GO! Which of course....led to them bursting in to the famous Frozen song....hey, at least they have fun at their jobs.
2. When I was going under the effect of Versad, Jason and Chaston were talking about what dreams I might have. These included rainbows, unicorns, Channing Tatum, and Ken Caminiti. Somehow Caminiti became the rainbow. In a haze, I mumbled, "Hmmm...taste the rainbow."
3. Chaston took a selfie with me after surgery, while I was still out of it. I woke up just in time to catch him. My drug induced glare scared him, and most everyone else. I must try to replicate this look for future use.
4. I think this is everyone's favorite! They wanted me to wake up after surgery so we could get going home. Jason asked Coby how he usually wakes me up. Coby said he tickles me....he was told this wasn't a good idea and to come up with a different suggestion. After thinking for a bit, he came up with a great idea! "I could wipe a booger on her face!" Thankfully, they didn't let him do that either!
Okay...so that was all the fun part. Now to the actual surgery stuff. When I showed up the day of surgery, I had lost another 5+ pounds since the Monday before when I had my pre-op lab work done. I was sick folks. I was exhausted, my head hurt, I was freezing all the time. I still can't believe I had let this go on as long as I had. Wait....yes I can. I was able to gorge and binge on anything and everything I wanted and the weight just peeled off!
But I knew I was finally doing the right thing, for me, for my kids...no matter my size and weight.
Dr. Dean said it went pretty much as he expected and my stomach was, well, it was a mess. He had to "manipulate" me back into shape. I have no idea what this means and can't wait to get more of an explanation at my post op visit with him next week. All I know is that I was more sore and sick after this surgery than when getting LB put in. I'm still a bit achy and feel like I've done 2340293848 sit ups, but it gets better every day.
And the energy I have now is pretty cool! I got home from work last night and cooked supper, played with Coby, did some laundry, and played with Coby some more. I can't wait to translate this in the gym! I think by next week, I'll be able to get on the treadmill or elliptical and get some work in.
The only drawback...I have to pee like alllll the time! This is a new sensation for me from the past 6 months. I would maybe go twice a day....now it feels like every 15 minutes. Especially with all the water I drink. Good to know I didn't lose any kidney function through the whole ordeal. LOL!
The hard part has begun though. I have already gained 12 pounds. That's 12 pounds in 6 days. I knew this would happen. I mean it had to. But I want it to stop here. I have stocked my fridge with low carb, healthy, easy to cook options. But there are still a few bad things that call my name at night. I need to remember that I can't eat everything I want and lose weight anymore. This isn't the Battle of the Bulge...this is a Battle of the Brain!
I am so blessed to be surrounded by positive and supportive friends and family who have loved me through this and will love me past it. I could not have survived this without all of them taking care of me and praying for me and offering support. If ever I throw a pity party and whine about not being loved, someone knock me upside the head.
XOXOXOXOX!!!!
Oh the sweet joy of being able to eat and drink and not make multiple trips to the restroom to throw up! Being able to sit in hour long meetings at work and not worry about every sip of water not making it down and needing to excuse myself. Knowing that I will be able to go on our planned trip to the beach this week and not starve myself because there is just no place to vomit discreetly out there. It's the little things, folks!
So surgery day...well...it was eventful to say the least. My family and friends know how to bring the party to a tiny room. Since I couldn't eat or drink anything since midnight the night before, and I wasn't taken back to surgery til well after 3 PM, I was starving! But they all kept me preoccupied and in giggles. And I'm sure they will tell you that no one can rock a gown, JiffyPop hat, compression hose, and a smile like I can. Ha!
Some of the most memorable post-surgery events (of which I had to be told about):
1. This one I remember -- when I woke up in recovery, the man next to me who was also coming out of his anesthesia, apparently had a full bladder and he let everyone know. The nurses kept telling him he had a catheter and he could pee any time he wanted. Finally one nurse just told him to LET IT GO! Which of course....led to them bursting in to the famous Frozen song....hey, at least they have fun at their jobs.
2. When I was going under the effect of Versad, Jason and Chaston were talking about what dreams I might have. These included rainbows, unicorns, Channing Tatum, and Ken Caminiti. Somehow Caminiti became the rainbow. In a haze, I mumbled, "Hmmm...taste the rainbow."
3. Chaston took a selfie with me after surgery, while I was still out of it. I woke up just in time to catch him. My drug induced glare scared him, and most everyone else. I must try to replicate this look for future use.
4. I think this is everyone's favorite! They wanted me to wake up after surgery so we could get going home. Jason asked Coby how he usually wakes me up. Coby said he tickles me....he was told this wasn't a good idea and to come up with a different suggestion. After thinking for a bit, he came up with a great idea! "I could wipe a booger on her face!" Thankfully, they didn't let him do that either!
Okay...so that was all the fun part. Now to the actual surgery stuff. When I showed up the day of surgery, I had lost another 5+ pounds since the Monday before when I had my pre-op lab work done. I was sick folks. I was exhausted, my head hurt, I was freezing all the time. I still can't believe I had let this go on as long as I had. Wait....yes I can. I was able to gorge and binge on anything and everything I wanted and the weight just peeled off!
But I knew I was finally doing the right thing, for me, for my kids...no matter my size and weight.
Dr. Dean said it went pretty much as he expected and my stomach was, well, it was a mess. He had to "manipulate" me back into shape. I have no idea what this means and can't wait to get more of an explanation at my post op visit with him next week. All I know is that I was more sore and sick after this surgery than when getting LB put in. I'm still a bit achy and feel like I've done 2340293848 sit ups, but it gets better every day.
And the energy I have now is pretty cool! I got home from work last night and cooked supper, played with Coby, did some laundry, and played with Coby some more. I can't wait to translate this in the gym! I think by next week, I'll be able to get on the treadmill or elliptical and get some work in.
The only drawback...I have to pee like alllll the time! This is a new sensation for me from the past 6 months. I would maybe go twice a day....now it feels like every 15 minutes. Especially with all the water I drink. Good to know I didn't lose any kidney function through the whole ordeal. LOL!
The hard part has begun though. I have already gained 12 pounds. That's 12 pounds in 6 days. I knew this would happen. I mean it had to. But I want it to stop here. I have stocked my fridge with low carb, healthy, easy to cook options. But there are still a few bad things that call my name at night. I need to remember that I can't eat everything I want and lose weight anymore. This isn't the Battle of the Bulge...this is a Battle of the Brain!
I am so blessed to be surrounded by positive and supportive friends and family who have loved me through this and will love me past it. I could not have survived this without all of them taking care of me and praying for me and offering support. If ever I throw a pity party and whine about not being loved, someone knock me upside the head.
XOXOXOXOX!!!!
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Ending...or starting...a new chapter?
Has it really been 18 months since I posted here? Wow! I guess I just didn't have anything that imporant to say...or I was just saying it in bits and pieces on Facebook. Oh that darn Facebook...what would we do without it? Anywho....time to update on my lapband drama. That's the reason I started this blog in the first place -- to talk about the ups and downs, highs and lows of dealing with having had bariatric surgery.
Well, here comes one big ginormous LOW! Come Wednesday, June 25, I will be losing my Lap-Buddy...it's coming out. And I have very very mixed emotions about this.
The LB drama started earlier this year. I can't pinpoint when exactly, but it was early January when I started struggling to keep anything down. I would have a good day mixed in with a few bad days during the early months. This means I would have a day or 2 where I could eat and actually get food to go down and stay down. But then I would have a week where nothing would go down and stay down. And when I say nothing...I mean NOTHING. No coffee, no water, no juice...N O T H I N G. As time went on, I had no good days. Maybe once every couple of weeks, I would have a random meal that would somehow miraculously go down. But that's it.
Before I knew it, my jeans didn't fit. And then people started commenting on me losing weight. Oh, wow. This is nice. And then it was like one day I woke up and I realized I had lost 40+ pounds which meant a total weight loss of 100 pounds since I started this journey!!
And then I hit 50 pounds down for the year and people were making comments like:
"You're melting away!"
"Hey skinny minnie!"
"You're gonna blow away if you get any thinner!"
All my life I have struggled with my weight and have never heard comments and received praise like this. All I wanted was to lay in these comments like fresh fallen snow and make skinny snow angels!
And all I have to do is eat whatever I want and it all just comes back up! Amazing! The downside was when people would want to know what my weight loss "secret" was. I couldn't very well tell them I was throwing up everything, could I? My canned responses were:
"Oh, you know I had lapband surgery a few years ago, I just decided it was time to make it work for me!"
"I just quit eating my 2 Bell friends...Blue and Taco!"
"I just watch what I eat...and no soft drinks!"
Crazy people believed me! Well...some did. My boss totally busted me after a work dinner one night when she called me out on how many times I went to the restroom. I did have one person ask how much Taco Bell had I been eating that once I stopped eating it, I was able to drop this much weight. Uhhh....????
So I let it go on...and on...and on...for months. Finally I just started getting tired of it. My family was tired of me throwing up all the time. My boyfriend (EEK! I have a boyfriend now!!! lol) hated that we couldn't go out and enjoy a meal together without me up and down to the bathroom. I had some bloodwork done and I was anemic. I'm tired and listless all the time. I'm soooooo thirsty! I get it! I'm not healthy. I look great...but my insides are messed up. And I could tell that my brain was getting just as wonky. All I cared about was being skinny...who cares how I got there?
I finally called Dr. Dean and asked to have a bit of an unfill. Didn't work. Went back and had it completely unfilled, totally emptied. Didn't work. That's when I knew I was in serious trouble.
When I went back to see Dr. Dean and told him the total empty band still wouldn't allow me to eat or drink anything, he just shook his head and said, "You know where this is going, don't you?" And I did...I knew the LB was coming out. Turns out, my LB has slipped...or rather my stomach has pushed up through the LB. He made me do a barium swallow and I was able to see just how bad it was. And there's no easy fix. He said it's not like a belt that you can just loosen, pull the stomach back through, and then tighten back up. There's too much irritation, inflammation, scar tissue. The LB has to come out.
I asked about having a revision to the Sleeve. Nope. Again...too much damage to my stomach right now. He would consider doing it in 6-9 months from now, after I've had time to heal and recover from this trauma. I don't know if I will pursue that though.
So here we go. Can I maintain this weight loss? I don't think so. I have many many friends and family that think I can. But my Debbie Downer brain tells me no. If I could, then I wouldn't have needed weight loss surgery to begin with. I'm devestated. I know this needs to happen. I'm the thinnest I've been in a very very long time, but I'm also the unhealthiest I've ever been. I need to feel better. I need to enjoy life again. But darn it, I sure have enjoyed the attention.
So there it is...my confessional, my story. I vowed to be honest and open throughout this entire journey. Please say a prayer as I move forward to the next chapter in this story...Life after LapBand...starts June 25th!
Well, here comes one big ginormous LOW! Come Wednesday, June 25, I will be losing my Lap-Buddy...it's coming out. And I have very very mixed emotions about this.
The LB drama started earlier this year. I can't pinpoint when exactly, but it was early January when I started struggling to keep anything down. I would have a good day mixed in with a few bad days during the early months. This means I would have a day or 2 where I could eat and actually get food to go down and stay down. But then I would have a week where nothing would go down and stay down. And when I say nothing...I mean NOTHING. No coffee, no water, no juice...N O T H I N G. As time went on, I had no good days. Maybe once every couple of weeks, I would have a random meal that would somehow miraculously go down. But that's it.
Before I knew it, my jeans didn't fit. And then people started commenting on me losing weight. Oh, wow. This is nice. And then it was like one day I woke up and I realized I had lost 40+ pounds which meant a total weight loss of 100 pounds since I started this journey!!
And then I hit 50 pounds down for the year and people were making comments like:
"You're melting away!"
"Hey skinny minnie!"
"You're gonna blow away if you get any thinner!"
All my life I have struggled with my weight and have never heard comments and received praise like this. All I wanted was to lay in these comments like fresh fallen snow and make skinny snow angels!
And all I have to do is eat whatever I want and it all just comes back up! Amazing! The downside was when people would want to know what my weight loss "secret" was. I couldn't very well tell them I was throwing up everything, could I? My canned responses were:
"Oh, you know I had lapband surgery a few years ago, I just decided it was time to make it work for me!"
"I just quit eating my 2 Bell friends...Blue and Taco!"
"I just watch what I eat...and no soft drinks!"
Crazy people believed me! Well...some did. My boss totally busted me after a work dinner one night when she called me out on how many times I went to the restroom. I did have one person ask how much Taco Bell had I been eating that once I stopped eating it, I was able to drop this much weight. Uhhh....????
So I let it go on...and on...and on...for months. Finally I just started getting tired of it. My family was tired of me throwing up all the time. My boyfriend (EEK! I have a boyfriend now!!! lol) hated that we couldn't go out and enjoy a meal together without me up and down to the bathroom. I had some bloodwork done and I was anemic. I'm tired and listless all the time. I'm soooooo thirsty! I get it! I'm not healthy. I look great...but my insides are messed up. And I could tell that my brain was getting just as wonky. All I cared about was being skinny...who cares how I got there?
I finally called Dr. Dean and asked to have a bit of an unfill. Didn't work. Went back and had it completely unfilled, totally emptied. Didn't work. That's when I knew I was in serious trouble.
When I went back to see Dr. Dean and told him the total empty band still wouldn't allow me to eat or drink anything, he just shook his head and said, "You know where this is going, don't you?" And I did...I knew the LB was coming out. Turns out, my LB has slipped...or rather my stomach has pushed up through the LB. He made me do a barium swallow and I was able to see just how bad it was. And there's no easy fix. He said it's not like a belt that you can just loosen, pull the stomach back through, and then tighten back up. There's too much irritation, inflammation, scar tissue. The LB has to come out.
I asked about having a revision to the Sleeve. Nope. Again...too much damage to my stomach right now. He would consider doing it in 6-9 months from now, after I've had time to heal and recover from this trauma. I don't know if I will pursue that though.
So here we go. Can I maintain this weight loss? I don't think so. I have many many friends and family that think I can. But my Debbie Downer brain tells me no. If I could, then I wouldn't have needed weight loss surgery to begin with. I'm devestated. I know this needs to happen. I'm the thinnest I've been in a very very long time, but I'm also the unhealthiest I've ever been. I need to feel better. I need to enjoy life again. But darn it, I sure have enjoyed the attention.
So there it is...my confessional, my story. I vowed to be honest and open throughout this entire journey. Please say a prayer as I move forward to the next chapter in this story...Life after LapBand...starts June 25th!
Monday, December 31, 2012
2012 Year in Review
What a year! And as I sat in reflection I thought that this was a nothing year. Nothing exciting happened, nothing new, it was just a blah year.
Then last night, I was bored, so I started flipping through my facebook page.
Boy was I wrong!!!! A "nothing" year? WHAT?!?
Wow....the things I quickly forgot that happened.
Just some of the highlights:
Chaston's 8th grade basketball team actually won a trophy! Chaston rocked the hurdles! Saw Blue Man Group! Coby started teeball! Coby turned 4! Watched my sweet friend Julie get married! Coby broke his nose. Chaston made All Stars! Clara Ann was born! Chaston "graduated" from Middle School as Mr. BCMS! Chaston turned 15! Both boys went to VBS...Chaston as a youth helper and Coby for his first time and they both LOVED it!! I started teaching a Sunday School class of amazing ladies! I lost a best friend, but gained some more! Chaston started High School!! Coby started Pre-K at FBC BC! Took a car full of boys to Houston for a long weekend of fun and an Astros game. Chaston got his driving permit! Watched the BCHS Marching Band go to Area Marching Finals in Nacogdoches! I moved to the big corner office at work! Coby had his first dentist appt! Had an amazing Christmas holidays with the family!
Whew! And that doesn't include all the trips to the movies, to Whitehouse, bowling, and just general goofy fun with the boys.
So next time I think we had had an un-adventurous year, I have Facebook to thank to remind of what an amazing ride it's been!
Then last night, I was bored, so I started flipping through my facebook page.
Boy was I wrong!!!! A "nothing" year? WHAT?!?
Wow....the things I quickly forgot that happened.
Just some of the highlights:
Chaston's 8th grade basketball team actually won a trophy! Chaston rocked the hurdles! Saw Blue Man Group! Coby started teeball! Coby turned 4! Watched my sweet friend Julie get married! Coby broke his nose. Chaston made All Stars! Clara Ann was born! Chaston "graduated" from Middle School as Mr. BCMS! Chaston turned 15! Both boys went to VBS...Chaston as a youth helper and Coby for his first time and they both LOVED it!! I started teaching a Sunday School class of amazing ladies! I lost a best friend, but gained some more! Chaston started High School!! Coby started Pre-K at FBC BC! Took a car full of boys to Houston for a long weekend of fun and an Astros game. Chaston got his driving permit! Watched the BCHS Marching Band go to Area Marching Finals in Nacogdoches! I moved to the big corner office at work! Coby had his first dentist appt! Had an amazing Christmas holidays with the family!
Whew! And that doesn't include all the trips to the movies, to Whitehouse, bowling, and just general goofy fun with the boys.
So next time I think we had had an un-adventurous year, I have Facebook to thank to remind of what an amazing ride it's been!
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Sweet 16
So I guess I need to update on the Upper GI I had done. Wasn't too painful, other than the part they made me drink something super fizzy and told me I couldn't burp. Ugh! That part wasn't nice. But I was told that officially my band was too tight. There didn't seem to be a slip or swelling, just general tightness. So I called the Bariatric Center and they were great about getting me right in so I didn't have to make another trip to Beaumont. Dr. Schrapps took out 1 full cc and gave me a script for Nexium. Ahhh....sweet relief. Unfortunately, I've gained about 20 pounds in the past year or so. Eh, whatever.
The other really bad thing...I've officially become addicted to ice cream. Don't believe me?? There's plenty of studies and articles out there to back up this theory...just google it.
Sooooo...I've been doing alot of internal reflection and have just about come to terms with who I am. There have been two times in my adult life that I have been a size 12.
Once was back when I was about 20. I was working full time and going to school full time. I lived off pretzels from the vending machine at school and little snack packs of fat free caramel popcorn we sold where I worked. Then I would get home at about 11 PM and head straight to the track for my 2 mile walk.
The other time in my life I was a size 12 was just a couple of years ago. And if we all need to be reminded on how I got there.... http://stoppingtherollercoasterride.blogspot.com/2010/12/ugh.html Throwing up every single thing that crossed my lips...including my own spit sometimes...well, that's just not all that fun, is it?
So now I'm a size 16...and I have to wonder, is eating about 500 calories a day or throwing up all the time really the sacrifice I want to make to be a size 12? Hmmm...I just don't think so. I have been teaching/leading a class of some pretty wonderful ladies from church and the title of the study is: You're Already Amazing. Wow...you mean I don't have to be a size 12 or smaller to be amazing? I can be a great mom, a good employee, an awesome friend, and a child of the King and not be "model" thin...what a concept!!
Now I have no intention of just losing control and going "hog" wild from here on out. I actually like what I see in the mirror right now, and feel comfortable. But I don't want to be completely unhealthy. The ice cream needs to stop. The candy needs to stop. Yes, I need to get outside and get more active. I do need to stay healthy. But the self hatred is over. You see this body of mine? It's a temple of the Lord. He gave this to me...I'm just blessed to have more square footage than some of you other temples out there. LOL!!!
I love some of the things I have come to realize over the past few months about myself. I hear myself sharing encouragement with my friends, and I am learning to apply those same things to myself. It's been quite the trip actually. It only took me 30+ years to get here.
And for those of you that are reading this that might be looking for weight loss or lap band tips, well I just don't have them for you today. What I do want to offer you is that God has created you for amazing things...not to wear low rise skinny jeans. Now it's up to you to get out there and find out what God's purpose is for you. And keep your head up...you are ALREADY AMAZING!!!!
The other really bad thing...I've officially become addicted to ice cream. Don't believe me?? There's plenty of studies and articles out there to back up this theory...just google it.
Sooooo...I've been doing alot of internal reflection and have just about come to terms with who I am. There have been two times in my adult life that I have been a size 12.
Once was back when I was about 20. I was working full time and going to school full time. I lived off pretzels from the vending machine at school and little snack packs of fat free caramel popcorn we sold where I worked. Then I would get home at about 11 PM and head straight to the track for my 2 mile walk.
The other time in my life I was a size 12 was just a couple of years ago. And if we all need to be reminded on how I got there.... http://stoppingtherollercoasterride.blogspot.com/2010/12/ugh.html Throwing up every single thing that crossed my lips...including my own spit sometimes...well, that's just not all that fun, is it?
So now I'm a size 16...and I have to wonder, is eating about 500 calories a day or throwing up all the time really the sacrifice I want to make to be a size 12? Hmmm...I just don't think so. I have been teaching/leading a class of some pretty wonderful ladies from church and the title of the study is: You're Already Amazing. Wow...you mean I don't have to be a size 12 or smaller to be amazing? I can be a great mom, a good employee, an awesome friend, and a child of the King and not be "model" thin...what a concept!!
Now I have no intention of just losing control and going "hog" wild from here on out. I actually like what I see in the mirror right now, and feel comfortable. But I don't want to be completely unhealthy. The ice cream needs to stop. The candy needs to stop. Yes, I need to get outside and get more active. I do need to stay healthy. But the self hatred is over. You see this body of mine? It's a temple of the Lord. He gave this to me...I'm just blessed to have more square footage than some of you other temples out there. LOL!!!
I love some of the things I have come to realize over the past few months about myself. I hear myself sharing encouragement with my friends, and I am learning to apply those same things to myself. It's been quite the trip actually. It only took me 30+ years to get here.
And for those of you that are reading this that might be looking for weight loss or lap band tips, well I just don't have them for you today. What I do want to offer you is that God has created you for amazing things...not to wear low rise skinny jeans. Now it's up to you to get out there and find out what God's purpose is for you. And keep your head up...you are ALREADY AMAZING!!!!
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
The "Crap" Band??
Yeah...what a title, huh? Imagine my dismay when I stumbled on a website where this is the favored name for the Lap Band. But the way I've been feeling the past few months, I just might have to agree with it.
I'm just tired. Tired of the throwing up, of the sleepless reflux-filled nights, popping antacids hourly, only being able to eat ice cream because it's the only thing that will stay down.
So for the first time in 2 years, I started thinking about getting it taken out. But I'm teriffied of what will happen...how quickly will I balloon back up? So then I started looking into getting a revision to a Gastric Sleeve. And wow...this seems to be quite popular amongst all the lapbanders. So after reading a few websites and people's stories, I made an appointment to see Dr. Dean to discuss some options. He started telling me this is becoming common in their line of work and they're even starting to push people toward the Sleeve rather than the Band because it's so much more effective. Oh really? Would have been nice to know a few years ago, huh?? Ugh.
He then told me that it would be two surgeries, they're conservative and do not like to do the lapband removal and Sleeve in one procedure. To top it off, it could be anywhere from 6 months to a YEAR before they would come back and do the sleeve. WHAT?!? Do you have any idea how FAT I would get in that span of time?? I mean, if I could do this weight loss thing without a tool like the lapband, I would have already done that!!
But first things first...he wants to see what the lapband is doing to my insides. He's ordering an Upper GI and EGD for me and then we will go from there. I googled these two procedures as soon as I got back and neither one looks like loads of fun. Should be interesting and I feel for the poor folks that will have to perform these procedures on me...I can be quite the whiny baby. :ashamed:
So I'll keep you updated on the results of all that mess. Now that I've talked about medical stuff, now to get to the emotional aspect...what the heck is wrong with me that I can't accept ME?! Folks tell me I'm cute, pretty, intelligent, etc...but what I want is to look like the girl on the magazine covers. And let me tell you what it would take to look like that...definitely MORE than TWO weight loss surgeries. It would take a small army of surgeons and A LOT of moolah!!
But in my head, that is what is pretty. That is what draws someone's attention to the magazines...a beautiful girl with a flat stomach and great hair. So when someone tells me I'm pretty, there is no way I believe them. How can you look at this chick on the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition and then look at me and think I am attractive. There is just NO way. She is perfection. I'm merely a below average chunky 30 something. There just is NO comparison.
Now comes the guilt and the head banging. Why do I allow all this self hatred and hate talk? I would never stand for one of my children to talk like this, so why is it okay for me to?
When I'm looking at old pictures of my teenager, he gets all embarassed because he's so chubby, has chipmunk cheeks, and some of the most horrifically crooked teeth ever seen. And I can't help but cry sweet tears as I look at his precious beautiful face, he is perfection. I don't see what he sees, I see him through eyes of pure love and adoration.
I imagine that this is the way God sees me. I stare in the mirror with disgust all while God is looking down and viewing his perfect masterpiece. Oh if only for one minute I were able to look at me through God's eyes and see what he sees. Then maybe I could learn to accept this physical shell that I have been given.
I really need to realize that I am worth more than the number on the scale, than the size on the tag of my clothes, than the lumps and bumps and curves of my body. I promise to work on this. I am a child of the King...and he is enthralled with my beauty and I shall honor Him. (Psalm 45:11)
So for the first time in 2 years, I started thinking about getting it taken out. But I'm teriffied of what will happen...how quickly will I balloon back up? So then I started looking into getting a revision to a Gastric Sleeve. And wow...this seems to be quite popular amongst all the lapbanders. So after reading a few websites and people's stories, I made an appointment to see Dr. Dean to discuss some options. He started telling me this is becoming common in their line of work and they're even starting to push people toward the Sleeve rather than the Band because it's so much more effective. Oh really? Would have been nice to know a few years ago, huh?? Ugh.
He then told me that it would be two surgeries, they're conservative and do not like to do the lapband removal and Sleeve in one procedure. To top it off, it could be anywhere from 6 months to a YEAR before they would come back and do the sleeve. WHAT?!? Do you have any idea how FAT I would get in that span of time?? I mean, if I could do this weight loss thing without a tool like the lapband, I would have already done that!!
But first things first...he wants to see what the lapband is doing to my insides. He's ordering an Upper GI and EGD for me and then we will go from there. I googled these two procedures as soon as I got back and neither one looks like loads of fun. Should be interesting and I feel for the poor folks that will have to perform these procedures on me...I can be quite the whiny baby. :ashamed:
So I'll keep you updated on the results of all that mess. Now that I've talked about medical stuff, now to get to the emotional aspect...what the heck is wrong with me that I can't accept ME?! Folks tell me I'm cute, pretty, intelligent, etc...but what I want is to look like the girl on the magazine covers. And let me tell you what it would take to look like that...definitely MORE than TWO weight loss surgeries. It would take a small army of surgeons and A LOT of moolah!!
But in my head, that is what is pretty. That is what draws someone's attention to the magazines...a beautiful girl with a flat stomach and great hair. So when someone tells me I'm pretty, there is no way I believe them. How can you look at this chick on the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition and then look at me and think I am attractive. There is just NO way. She is perfection. I'm merely a below average chunky 30 something. There just is NO comparison.
Now comes the guilt and the head banging. Why do I allow all this self hatred and hate talk? I would never stand for one of my children to talk like this, so why is it okay for me to?
When I'm looking at old pictures of my teenager, he gets all embarassed because he's so chubby, has chipmunk cheeks, and some of the most horrifically crooked teeth ever seen. And I can't help but cry sweet tears as I look at his precious beautiful face, he is perfection. I don't see what he sees, I see him through eyes of pure love and adoration.
I imagine that this is the way God sees me. I stare in the mirror with disgust all while God is looking down and viewing his perfect masterpiece. Oh if only for one minute I were able to look at me through God's eyes and see what he sees. Then maybe I could learn to accept this physical shell that I have been given.
I really need to realize that I am worth more than the number on the scale, than the size on the tag of my clothes, than the lumps and bumps and curves of my body. I promise to work on this. I am a child of the King...and he is enthralled with my beauty and I shall honor Him. (Psalm 45:11)
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Being MOM
I remember when I was younger when I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, my answer was a corporate executive. I didn't really know WHAT that meant, I just knew I wanted to wear suits and work in the tallest building in downtown Houston. In my group of girlfriends, I was the one that said having kids wouldn't happen for many many years. I couldn't imagine being a mom. But God had different plans.
At 18, I learned I was going to be a mom. Not exactly ideal timing, during my first sememster in college, but oh how God knew exactly what would make my life AMAZING! Oh it wasn't easy, and it still isn't. Chaston and I have literally grown up together. He is such a great cool kid. One of the funniest, wittiest, annoying boys I've ever known. Today he says he wants to be an opthomologist when he grows up...and of course being in the ministry in some capacity. I enjoy watching him grow every day in wisdom, stature, and in favor with both God and men.
Almost 11 years later, our two person family grew to three when Coby Dean joined in the fun. Again, this was not easy, but what a joy it has been. Coby is so funny, energetic, and definitely keeps me on my toes. I can not wait to see what he decideds to do and be as he gets bigger.
Being a mom has been the most enjoyable and challenging task that God has called me to in my life. And I have to say that it is the one thing in life that I KNOW I excel at. Sure I say the wrong things, lose my patience at inopportune times, but for the most part, I kinda rock at this. I am their biggest fan, biggest supporter, and strive to be their hero. I hope they see how hard I try to be just what they need me to be.
How did I get to be such a great mom?? Well, easy answer...I had the best role model...MY mom! She's my first phone call when I have questions or concerns or funny kid stories to share. I couldn't have accomplished all that I have, raised these amazing kids, and continue to be a working mom without her. Thanks mom! Love you!
So to all the moms out there...HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!! Enjoy your day and hug those babies tight.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Un-band related...or band unrelated
Whatever you want to call it. LOL!
This post has absolutely NOTHING to do with the band. It's about me cleaning my bathroom floor. And while this normally wouldn't be a very exciting topic, it's exactly the kind of thing I would want to find on Pinterest. Soooo...I thought, why shouldn't I put it on there?!
I am a hairspray addict. I spray my hair before I style it, while I'm styling it, after I style it, after I get dressed...and sometimes run back in the house for one more spritz...or 4.
This has caused some major buildup of hair products on my bathroom floor. One day I tried to scrub it with one of those Mr. Clean Magic Erasers. That didn't work all that great.
So I hit up google...I mean, when all else fails, right? Several articles suggested acetone. I poured a capful of fingernail polish remover on the floor just to see what it would do, and it worked! But with no ventilation or an open window, that wouldn't get very far. Another site said, shampoo. Well, isn't that a novel idea?? Use shampoo to clean up hair styling products!!
I bought some clarifying, deep cleansing shampoo. Poured some in a spray bottle, added some warm water and shook it up. Sprayed it on the floor and let it sit for a few minutes. After scrubbing with a sponge for a few more minutes....VOILA! Floor looked good as new.
I'm just a wee bit embarassed that I didn't realize just how awful my floor looked. But now I know the secret to cleaning my floor...SHAMPOO!
This post has absolutely NOTHING to do with the band. It's about me cleaning my bathroom floor. And while this normally wouldn't be a very exciting topic, it's exactly the kind of thing I would want to find on Pinterest. Soooo...I thought, why shouldn't I put it on there?!
I am a hairspray addict. I spray my hair before I style it, while I'm styling it, after I style it, after I get dressed...and sometimes run back in the house for one more spritz...or 4.
This has caused some major buildup of hair products on my bathroom floor. One day I tried to scrub it with one of those Mr. Clean Magic Erasers. That didn't work all that great.
So I hit up google...I mean, when all else fails, right? Several articles suggested acetone. I poured a capful of fingernail polish remover on the floor just to see what it would do, and it worked! But with no ventilation or an open window, that wouldn't get very far. Another site said, shampoo. Well, isn't that a novel idea?? Use shampoo to clean up hair styling products!!
I bought some clarifying, deep cleansing shampoo. Poured some in a spray bottle, added some warm water and shook it up. Sprayed it on the floor and let it sit for a few minutes. After scrubbing with a sponge for a few more minutes....VOILA! Floor looked good as new.
I'm just a wee bit embarassed that I didn't realize just how awful my floor looked. But now I know the secret to cleaning my floor...SHAMPOO!
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Another Band-iversary is here!
Someone just asked me what the date was today and I said January 12th. I thought that date sounded important and then it dawned on me...it's my Band-iversary!
I know I just posted a couple weeks ago so I won't bore you all with my band/weight struggles. Although I would like a pat on the back, a gold star, AND a high five: I haven't had fast food in TEN days! I do believe this deserves a round of applause. And I'm being serious. :)
Two years...my how time flies when you're having fun...and boy are we having fun!
I have changed over the past year. I finally faced the fact that I was suffering from severe depression and I wasn't going to come out of it without some help. I found a wonderful psychologist that I see every 2 weeks. She really challenges me. I have to tell her all the things I'm going to do for the next 2 weeks to ensure I don't get swallowed in the "Black Pit" and then I have to report to her. She has forced me to step out of my comfort zone and realize if I don't make changes, NOTHING will CHANGE.
I joined a gym (which reminds me...my membership lapsed this month and I Need to renew). I don't turn down invitations. I go out with friends and actually have FUN. I go to movies by myself. I've become addicted to all things relaxing and pampering (pedicures, massages, facials, etc). I actually TALK to my kids and play with them. I have cooked more in the past year than I have in the 2 years previously COMBINED. I wear red lipstick. I am good. Really good.
Change...change is good. And while I might pout about not being as thin as I'd like to be, still single, still struggling sometimes with life...well, you know what? I am a strong amazing woman...just like God wants me to be.
HAPPY SECOND BANDIVERSARY TO ME! And just to remind myself of what 2 years can do...
I know I just posted a couple weeks ago so I won't bore you all with my band/weight struggles. Although I would like a pat on the back, a gold star, AND a high five: I haven't had fast food in TEN days! I do believe this deserves a round of applause. And I'm being serious. :)
Two years...my how time flies when you're having fun...and boy are we having fun!
I have changed over the past year. I finally faced the fact that I was suffering from severe depression and I wasn't going to come out of it without some help. I found a wonderful psychologist that I see every 2 weeks. She really challenges me. I have to tell her all the things I'm going to do for the next 2 weeks to ensure I don't get swallowed in the "Black Pit" and then I have to report to her. She has forced me to step out of my comfort zone and realize if I don't make changes, NOTHING will CHANGE.
I joined a gym (which reminds me...my membership lapsed this month and I Need to renew). I don't turn down invitations. I go out with friends and actually have FUN. I go to movies by myself. I've become addicted to all things relaxing and pampering (pedicures, massages, facials, etc). I actually TALK to my kids and play with them. I have cooked more in the past year than I have in the 2 years previously COMBINED. I wear red lipstick. I am good. Really good.
Change...change is good. And while I might pout about not being as thin as I'd like to be, still single, still struggling sometimes with life...well, you know what? I am a strong amazing woman...just like God wants me to be.
HAPPY SECOND BANDIVERSARY TO ME! And just to remind myself of what 2 years can do...
Monday, January 2, 2012
2012 is MY year!
Next week will be 2 years since I started this journey, when I had my surgery. What a crazy eye opening experience! I have learned so much about myself and I MUST make some changes.
Reading back over my past blogs, I've done alot of making promises to change, whining that I can't do it, making excuses. I'm ashamed. I'm nothing but alot of talk and hot air.
I was pouting and havin one big pity party the other night. Thinking about how yet another year has passed and I'm still single and still overweight and now I'm brunette! EEK! lol...okay, so the brunette thing isn't that bad, it's just a change. :)
Two years ago, I was on a full liquid diet for FOUR weeks! Then I ate nothing but tuna and crab salad, greek yogurt, fish, veggies, cut out fast food, drank tons of water and logged all the fat and protein intake. Guess what?? I LOST WEIGHT! Imagine that!
Last year I started making some pretty bad choices...sodas, fast food, binging...etc. And something that only 3 people know: I am also being treated for lap band induced bulimia. Nice, huh? This is when I eat the wrong things and eat so much of it that it makes me throw up. I haven't lost weight because I can keep super sugary things down, but it has taken it's toll on me physically. My hair loss and breaking is one of them. My skin breaks out. My nails are splitting and breaking. Constant heartburn. And then there is the fear that my band will slip. If this happens, this means more surgery and possible band removal. I can't let that happen!
Sooooo....what to do? What to do? CHANGE! Go back to what works. What I put in my mouth is MY choice. No one is holding me down forcing that Mexican pizza and onion rings and french fries down my throat. I am the one going out and buying it. NO MORE!
Today was a grocery trip to stock back up on the foods that helped me succeed. Tonight is a trip to Casa Ole with the boys. Tomorrow is a brand new start. No more beating myself up for the poor choices I made in the past.
The other thing that must change is my self hatred and self disgust. I lost 80 pounds in 2010. I gained 30 pounds in 2011. I need to see that I am still 50 pounds lighter than I was to begin with!! And just like my hair color does not define me...neither does my weight. I have a pretty bad habit of having these massive pity parties where I just sit on the couch and cry about being fat and lonely. PHOOEY! get over it Chrysta! I almost let this keep me home New Year's Eve. My friend texted me and told me to get over myself, slap on my Spanx and let's roll! Couldn't argue with that. I let loose and had a great time!
When I choose to focus on the negative, what good will come of that? God don't make mistakes...every time I think about being fat and single and alone...well, I'm kinda saying God is wrong, and we all know that's not right!
I am an amazing mother, a good friend, witty, cute, smart, great credit score (lol), and have a knack for finding some gorgeous shoes at great prices. I am more than my jean size and whatever number is on my scale.
So 2012 is a new year...why not a new me? Well, not really a NEW me...maybe just an improved version. :)
My first goal...No shopping for 15 pounds. This means no purchasing shoes, clothes, purses, jewelry for myself until I lose 15 pounds. If you know me, even a little bit, you would know that this is major. This means until I lose 15 pounds, I might actually have to wear all the clothes I curently have in my closet. OH MY! lol! I'll be thinking about my next goal as I strive to reach the first. Feel free to post an idea for me if you have one.
Whew! Glad to get all that off my chest. Now...here we go. 2012....BRING IT ON!
Reading back over my past blogs, I've done alot of making promises to change, whining that I can't do it, making excuses. I'm ashamed. I'm nothing but alot of talk and hot air.
I was pouting and havin one big pity party the other night. Thinking about how yet another year has passed and I'm still single and still overweight and now I'm brunette! EEK! lol...okay, so the brunette thing isn't that bad, it's just a change. :)
Two years ago, I was on a full liquid diet for FOUR weeks! Then I ate nothing but tuna and crab salad, greek yogurt, fish, veggies, cut out fast food, drank tons of water and logged all the fat and protein intake. Guess what?? I LOST WEIGHT! Imagine that!
Last year I started making some pretty bad choices...sodas, fast food, binging...etc. And something that only 3 people know: I am also being treated for lap band induced bulimia. Nice, huh? This is when I eat the wrong things and eat so much of it that it makes me throw up. I haven't lost weight because I can keep super sugary things down, but it has taken it's toll on me physically. My hair loss and breaking is one of them. My skin breaks out. My nails are splitting and breaking. Constant heartburn. And then there is the fear that my band will slip. If this happens, this means more surgery and possible band removal. I can't let that happen!
Sooooo....what to do? What to do? CHANGE! Go back to what works. What I put in my mouth is MY choice. No one is holding me down forcing that Mexican pizza and onion rings and french fries down my throat. I am the one going out and buying it. NO MORE!
Today was a grocery trip to stock back up on the foods that helped me succeed. Tonight is a trip to Casa Ole with the boys. Tomorrow is a brand new start. No more beating myself up for the poor choices I made in the past.
The other thing that must change is my self hatred and self disgust. I lost 80 pounds in 2010. I gained 30 pounds in 2011. I need to see that I am still 50 pounds lighter than I was to begin with!! And just like my hair color does not define me...neither does my weight. I have a pretty bad habit of having these massive pity parties where I just sit on the couch and cry about being fat and lonely. PHOOEY! get over it Chrysta! I almost let this keep me home New Year's Eve. My friend texted me and told me to get over myself, slap on my Spanx and let's roll! Couldn't argue with that. I let loose and had a great time!
When I choose to focus on the negative, what good will come of that? God don't make mistakes...every time I think about being fat and single and alone...well, I'm kinda saying God is wrong, and we all know that's not right!
I am an amazing mother, a good friend, witty, cute, smart, great credit score (lol), and have a knack for finding some gorgeous shoes at great prices. I am more than my jean size and whatever number is on my scale.
So 2012 is a new year...why not a new me? Well, not really a NEW me...maybe just an improved version. :)
My first goal...No shopping for 15 pounds. This means no purchasing shoes, clothes, purses, jewelry for myself until I lose 15 pounds. If you know me, even a little bit, you would know that this is major. This means until I lose 15 pounds, I might actually have to wear all the clothes I curently have in my closet. OH MY! lol! I'll be thinking about my next goal as I strive to reach the first. Feel free to post an idea for me if you have one.
Whew! Glad to get all that off my chest. Now...here we go. 2012....BRING IT ON!
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