100 Years...More Likely Now...

All I can say is...holy shit! December 22, 2010 changed my life and so have I...forever, if not for the next 71+ possible years of my life. As of May 13, 2011, less than five months after my RNY surgery, I have lost 100 pounds! I can't even fully comprehend this loss yet, only gaze in awe at my Spark chart that shows my numbers decreasing month by month. I have averaged (with a stall once a month, at least) to lose 15-20 pounds average over the course of this crazy journey. Did you know that one pound of fat is equal to 4...count them...4 sticks of butter?! I did. However, I never fully comprehended that fact. That is a shit-load of butter! That is seriously 400 sticks of butter, sacks and sacks of potatoes or sugar and a crap-tastic amount of calories seeing as it takes around 3500 calories to gain one pound. If I had dully comprehended this, I don't think I would have reached my highest weight, but sometimes facts don't really mean anything until we are standing in the shoes of someone who weighs 364 pounds. 

What I did comprehend was my relationship with food. Food was my enemy in high school and then friend, confidante and source of comfort for a very long time and throughout some very difficult situations. It was my late night study buddy in college and my dirty little secret (not so secret as evidenced by my expanding body) afterwards. Sometimes I grieve the loss of my friend "Food," but more often than not I look upon my past relationship with this good friend and horrible enemy as a very distinct part of my life and an overall learning experience. Food taught me, if nothing else, that at the end of each and every day, I matter. It taught me to love myself for me and not settle for anything less than what I wanted in my life. Food taught me to love not only me for me but others for themselves and not for what size pants or skirt they wore. Food taught me that some of my relationships were unhealthy and toxic, besides the affair I was having with Food. I thank Food for making me value my life more than anything. I am thankful that Food has been resurrected to be helpful to me now, a healthy and life sustaining substance that I still enjoy, and that I can still create with and share with my family in a life-sustaining way.

On that note, you have all seen my recent blogs that center around cooking. It sounds really funny saying that I enjoy cooking even more now...she likes to cook? Jigga what?! It's SO true and I love to make regular recipes healthier and more "me" friendly. For example, there was a recipe in the Sunday paper coupon section (Oh yeah, I am THAT girl) about a month ago and I ripped it out along with the attached coupon. The recipe I so exuberantly ripped out was for a breakfast casserole with Hillshire Farm smoked sausage...because THAT is a healthy ingredient worthy of my post-op kitchen?! Riiiiiight...really?! Well...NO! It also called for whole eggs and heavy cream and shredded cheese! Holy heart attack Batman! I almost left it where it was. But then I didn't...because I could do some serious calorie control with this baby! And I did...ohhhh I did. Here is the original recipe in case you would like to consume at least a couple HUNDRED extra calories per serving (remember, it serves 12...) or make others fat, either way you are cruising for a bruising. 

Crustless Quiche:

1 pkg. Hillshire Farm Smoked Sausage

8 eggs, lightly beaten

1 1/2 cups heavy whipping cream

1 1/2 tsp. dry mustard

1/4 tsp. salt

1/8 tsp. black pepper

1 1/2 cups (divided: 1 cup and 1/2 cup) shredded cheddar

1/2 cup chopped green bell pepper

*Preheat to 350. Cut sausage into cubes and set aside. Lightly beat eggs, cream, mustard, salt and pepper in a bowl. Add 1 cup of cheese, sausage and green pepper. Stir well, pour into a 13x9 pan and bake at 350 for 40-45 minutes or until set. Remove from oven and sprinkle rest (1/2) cup of cheese on top to melt. Serve and enjoy!

Here is what you can do to avoid the guilt, beef up the recipe and enjoy with some serious healthy smiles:

*Use the Turkey Hillshire Farm sausage (less cals, fat and better protein).

*Use 4 large eggs and 1 cup of Egg Beaters (I used the southwestern or garden veggie flavored variety).

*Replace heavy cream with light cream (saves fat and cals).

*Use more like 1/2 green pepper, who cares to measure out something that is good for you anyway!

*Add broccoli or Zucchini to beef up the volume per serving!

*Use 2% shredded cheese (I used a % cheddar and mozzarella mix)

Per serving, this recipe now contains only 185 calories, 13 grams of fat, 4 carbs and 14 grams of protein. Without these adjustments, you are seriously looking at less food with more calorie and fat bullshit per bite! Here is what mine looks like...

It is things like this that help me remember why I made this choice in the first place. I am married to a phenomenal man and I would like, more than anything, to be able to have a phenomenally healthy little mini-me or mini-Evan of my own. And what I want in addition to conceiving a baby is for people to KNOW I am pregnant, not just FAT. I may have been able to carry and give birth to a healthy baby at my highest weight, but I highly doubt it would have been complication free or without risk of gestational diabetes or some other hellish issue. There is never a guarantee that I will not have complications when we do decide to try to conceive. However, the less weight and stress I have on this body, the better 9 month home I can give my little one and in total, a better life. I will most likely still be considered high risk due to the need for more frequent blood tests to check my vitamin levels etc. due to malabsorption issues etc. etc. etc. However, my chances to conceive, carry and birth a healthy baby will be through the roof compared to what my odds were before. I did not just do this for myself but also for my present and future family. It is important to me and a dream that I may be more likely to live in happily once I am cleared to begin trying...probably 12-18 months post op. To have a healthy baby means the world to me...and to have a healthier me, in order to be a good parent, means even more. I will not be an obesity statistic...one that dies and leaves my family behind because my fat ass didn't make a change...I want my 100 years and then some damnit!      

                              

Dead Men Tell No Tales...

Today was a very nice prelude to Mother's Day with a freaky, creepy little undertone. Not being a mother yet myself, it was very nice spending a portion of my day with my husband and my mom, dad, aunt, uncle and grandparents. We had lunch at this awesome place where I spent 5 summers and 4 winter holidays waitressing. I love Pier 57, the people and the customers that helped pay for my college tuition. It is a family owned place, whose owners never get to take a vacation but they are such amazing people and so are the rest of the wait and bar staff. I am lucky to say that I keep in touch with a good deal of people I used to work with and am proud to have worked alongside them. I loved waitressing and may, with all of the budget cuts, have to go back to it one day. I loved it because at the end of the day, I earned what I earned and I didn't bring any work home with me as I do now being a teacher. I had only to show up to my next shift chipper and ready to go. I am sure my back and arm muscles were stronger for it. Don't get me wrong, I love teaching my special needs friends, but just think what it must be like not to bring any extra stuff home...hmmm. I digress...this restaurant was and is special for more than one reason. Truth be told I never experienced this but apparently, the place is haunted. Ask many employees who have worked there for a number of years and they will tell you that a woman that was killed there years ago, still walks the up and downstairs. I am just glad the poor bitch didn't mess with my blackened chicken caesar salad light on the dressing. 

After our lunch with the spooky undertone, the hubby and I decided (or really I did) that it would be a great idea to plant a new rhododendron bush that we bought from an annual fundraiser for a local group home for disabled and non-disabled adults. As we are digging in the perfect spot, Evan hits something hard. It's hard to tell what the shovel is hitting, exactly, so he keeps digging at my prodding ("Come on, dig harder...pansy ass love of my life...push!" Oh, alright, it wasn't actually SAID) and continues to make contact with this very hard, solid mass! We try to brush the dirt off...is it a pipe or a monster mutant tree root? Is it a box with a dead pet from owners past? Is it a freaking skeleton of a dead body?! Shit! Keep digging!!! Whatever it is, he takes a chunk out of it and picks it up (I would have gagged had he not had gloves on) only to find that this white piece of mystery crap breaks in two in his hands. Double and triple shit, is that bone or some other kind of body part?! Neither of us know so of course we continue with the exploration. Well, it turns out, the damn thing is most likely a big ass tree root but we still, to this minute, do not know exactly what it is because we were too freaked out to get down on the hands and knees, touch it further or whip out a trusty magnifying glass. We simply dug a new spot right next to the root of death, planted the bush and walked away. Unsolved mystery, I say. Ten to one completely gone from my husband's memory or sense of giving a shit...but I think there lies a mystery buried deep within our garden. I'm just saying...

On a side note, and more to the point than ANY of my previous republican-like ramblings (hehe just a joke friends!), take a look at that freaking ticker at the top of this page! I have less than one pound to go before joining the century club and 3 more pounds total before reaching my half-way to goal number! These are the reasons I get up on a Saturday to work out and do extra gardening work during which I try not to let my boobs fall out of my top as I bend over to weed! It is so exciting I could pee! I think I will...maybe that will help...goodbye friends, have a wonderful Mother's Day in any and every way you choose to celebrate it!

29 Forever

Well, I am now 29...in the last year of my twenties...shit. I knew this day would come and you can say I am being dramatic all you want but I will still say the same thing...shit. My birthday went off without any issues big or small and I received some very nice cards, wishes and gifts from the people I care about. What more could a girl ask for? Not much. What made me laugh on my birthday was that I had after school meetings, half a voice (that story will follow shortly) and I was so tired I could have fallen asleep at my desk during my lunch. The first week going back to work after a break is always a hard one for me and I didn't sleep well Sunday through Thursday. This weekend has been my saving grace...I guess I really am getting old.

So the reason I had half a voice on my birthday was because I hosted a "Pure Romance" or "Tupperware" party, as I like to refer to these events. And I do mean...events. The night before I turned 29 I had a few friends over to bring in the last sane year of my life with a bang. And boy was it bangin...or buzzin...or strappin. These parties are a total riot. Our consultant from Pure Romance, Mary, was hysterical and the stuff she brought even better. I never thought that I would write about this in my WLS blog but let's be honest, 96 pounds ago, the strap on dildo that Mary made me wear for about 45 min, would not have fit. I know, at least I would have had an easy out but at this point, it feels great to have anything and everything on that fits, even a pink rubber penis. My friend Liz has pictures of the two of us posing for the camera, not that it will ever make it here, but she was a trooper for strapping on the purple people eater to make me feel that I was not alone. She's awesome...period.

The strap-on was just the beginning of the party during which I discovered too much about my mother (love you mom), my friends and myself. We played a game where we had to move to the right if we had done something our consultant decreed and if someone was sitting there, well, sit on their lap. My pink strap-on made this difficult for some as they received a little love poke when having to sit on my lap. There is so much more I could tell you, but you just need to host or attend one of these parties to believe it. Did you know that you can judge the sensitivity of your nether regions by placing a vibrating toy on the tip of your nose? Did you? Well, now you do. Boy, my family really shouldn't read this entry...complete trash...LOL.  One of the reasons I enjoyed this party so much was...well...there were a few. The fact that "if the dildo fits" actually applied to me was awesome in itself. Other than that, the laughing, facial expressions of hilarity and horror and overall presence of wonderful women, really made my birthday special. So thank you ladies!

The other thing that made my birthday special was all the facebook love I received all day. I have my wall posts sent to my phone and since I received so much love, my phone was buzzing all day. After work, my husband and I had a wonderful dinner followed by my mom and dad coming over to the house for a bit. My mom, amazing as she is, attempted to make a half size of her deliciously famous chocolate oil cake sugar free for me but could not figure out how to make her butter cream icing sugar free (p.s. got the answer from Jeannine...put splenda into food processor and it will turn into powdered splenda perfect for powdered sugar substitute). I discovered two things...not that I didn't know this but my mom is the absolute best and most thoughtful, supportive mom I know. And the other thing is that my sugar tolerance is not so low as to not allow me to have a 1-2 inch squared piece of mostly sugar free birthday cake. It was one of those experiences that felt good to be feeling normal enough to try that and at the same time be thankful that it is not a part of my everyday diet. I thought it was very good but I just don't have too much of a sweet tooth or desire for carbs or baked goods in general. All in all it was a great first birthday since beginning this new part of my life and again, I am thankful and appreciative of all the love and support.

She has Risen...

So, let me say first...Happy Easter to all of you who celebrate! Today was a really fun day for me for a few reasons The first being that I got to spend time with my husband, mom, dad, aunt, and grandparents and that is always a fun time...more so in recent years as the older members of my family have conveniently forgotten their verbal filters and say whatever they choose to say without apology. This "no-filter policy" is unwritten in the handbook and can contain anything from a variety of old racist terminology to the pronunciation of a word to who claims credit for some silly event or saying.

During two holidays (thus far) this year, a dictionary has been brought to the table to prove something or another about some seriously ridiculous word or expression. The first incident was during Thanksgiving when the dictionary was hunted down so that the correct pronunciation of "Horrible" could be found. The argument was "hORibble" versus "hARible." I say it's the one that sounds like a fun name for street walkers, prostitutes or ladies of the night...sort of like "Whoreible" which took the conversation to a whole other level as the argument continued for maybe an hour or so. The topic on Easter Sunday was the definition of the phrase "Cul-de-sac." Now, this was discussed in the car on the way to my Aunt's house, when we got there, and around the dinner table when my Dad got up to go look up the definition. This is what it literally means: "Bottom of a Sack." Yeah...let that one sink in. Enter into my world for a second and really try to understand that the word most used around the dinner table on Easter Sunday was the word "Sack." There was snickering and sexual references being made by my Dad and almost 92 year old Grandfather as well as the discussion of whether or not the plural would be "Cul de sacS" or "CulS de sac"...yeah...really. This was just the beginning of our conversational prowess...let me tell you!

The other reason I really loved today was that I got to focus so much more on those inane and hilariously inappropriate conversations with my family because I wasn't focused on my plate, the food on it, or on refilling it. I had my small piece of ham and a small spoonful of most things on the counter and licked some lemon curd off my finger for dessert. I waited my five minutes in between bites, sat back and laughed with my family. There was no silly drama, no real meaningful talk of politics (it's pointless really in my family) and people only griped about the cost of gas for about five minutes. We laughed, avoided stepping on my Aunt's really fat cat (watch out, she bites) and repeated stories (this is what happens when people who cannot hear well sit at opposite sides of the table) and had a nice time being with each other. There was no food coma and I feel really great coming home and not collapsing on some sofa somewhere. Instead of my diet, my LIFE was rich today and so again, I am so very thankful. Here's hoping that no matter what you did today, you had a wonderful time doing it!

Have you ever...

So I absolutely L.O.V.E. PINK...the performer, the singer, the woman, the role model, the cursing like a sailor, be me at any cost, say what I need to say and the hell with everyone else...PINK. As I was finishing up some craptastically long reports for work, I was listening to my i-tunes in the background and PINK's "Glitter in the Air" began to play on my "Easy Listening" playlist. Now, I am sure this song has many different meanings to many different people but the following lines touched me and made me feel more empowered to be the person on the outside that I already am on the inside...a funkily-fantastic retail therapy shopping FABU-Gorg-wah strong and empowered 20-something (we won't mention that I am quickly approaching my last year in Twenty-dom). What would you feel inside if you heard these words inside a beautiful crooning melody...

Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands...close your eyes and trust it, just trust it...have you ever thrown a fistful of glitter in the air? Have you ever looked fear in the face and said "I just don't care?"...Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone...your whole life waiting on the ring to prove you're not alone? Have you ever been touched so gently you had to cry? Have you ever invited a stranger to come inside?...there you are sitting in the garden, clutching my coffee calling me "sugar" you called me "sugar"...have you ever wished for an endless night? Lasso the moon and the stars and pull that rope tight...have you ever held your breath and asked yourself "will it ever get better than tonight?"

 I think that although it may have had a very different meaning to her, PINK really spoke to all of us as individuals. We wait, most of us, a very long time to make the decision to do this great big horribly wonderful thing...changing our lives. We wait by the phone for strangers to tell us we're not alone, we can do this...oh and in the case of the WLS patient "you've been approved for surgery." We hesitate to throw that glitter in the air, love ourselves enough to take this crazily wonderful step towards our new lives and then we invite more strangers...the nurses and the surgeons, the support group leaders and fellow patients, our WLS family...into our lives. But before we throw that glitter... that first step...many of us, in any bad situation wish for that "endless night." All we want to do is sleep away the fat, the depression, the ugly, the not-being-able-to-do what-we-want-to-do blues. We hold our breaths and pray to look...act...be able to act like ourselves in a world that doesn't accept us for who we are on the outside, no matter what our de-function. PINK would say that is complete and utter horseSHIT...be yourself, whoever that is, whoever you want it to be.

Our country may be one of the most free in the world, but we are also one of the most judgmental...and I fully believe that. Yes, if you are willing to put your hands up, throw the glitter, that hope in the air...that we will all be able to welcome all the new strangers, all the new experiences and say "I just don't care" in the face of all those who would have us question our choices in life, no matter what they are they are OURS and no one else's. We are the only ones who will pay for them, in whatever form of currency we will be charged in. No one can tell me which exchange rate I should have to pay. Screw them all for thinking they can tell any of you how to LIVE your lives. We all only get one...so smile, LIVE and LOVE yourself enough to do what is best and right for you...you will thank yourself later. I know I have. I have thanked myself, my husband, my family, my friends, my doctors and all of you out there in BLOG world and I will thank you many more times in years to come. The biggest thanks has to go to me, however...so THANKS me...thanks for believing in yourself...thanks for taking a huge and controversial step...thanks for thinking of the children you want to have and grow old holding...thanks for working so hard to lose 85 pounds in 3 1/2 months and THANKS for believing it can always get getter than tonight...cause tonight is pretty great but tomorrow can be even better!

Thankful

I don't have any snazzy titles or quips for this blog. All I can say is that I am EXTREMELY thankful to be getting my life back. To others I am sure it seemed as though I was a strong, confident woman who was overall happy with herself and her life. This is partly true. I am a strong person who has made some mistakes when it comes to taking care of myself. I am a confident woman when it comes to helping others and listening to their problems. I am happy with my life in the way of my family and friends, my husband, home, job and beautiful furry babies. I was NOT strong when it came to dealing with my emotions for a long time...ergo I ate my feelings for years and only came to terms with those emotions when I felt like I had already strayed too far on the fat freeway and there was no U-turn available. I was not a confident woman in who and what I was as a person and I have to say I think that we all work on this our entire lives in some way, shape or form. I was not happy with my lack of a life. I wasn't living. I wasn't doing the things I love to do. I was not loving myself enough to change early on and by the time I was at 364 I felt so stuck in my body.

Did you know that I LOVE...effing LOVE roller coasters? How about skiing and kayaking and playing volleyball. Swimming? Water slides? Camping? Traveling? The list goes on. Did you know I liked to do these things in my past life? My past life, of course, being...skinny-dom. It is a kingdom I have not traveled to in many years and the first few years I was there I felt like an imposter because I had gotten there under false pretenses. I had dieted and starved myself, taken ephedra, not slept and limited my carb intake to bitch slap levels. I was a complete idiot but I knew no better and as "happy" as I was, I was also NOT very happy...as evidenced by the years following high school. I dealt with very difficult situations in a very self destructive way.  It took me years to face myself and I finally have. I will get to do the things I love again...even if I SUCK at them now!

On that note...it has been three months. I will get flack from friends about posting these pictures in more than one location...bite me...and enjoy! Three months, 75 pounds later...many to go but feeling wonderful and more importantly, like the real me...the beautiful, strong, confident and happy person I am meant to be. Thanks for all the support along the way friends!

The other kind of "Stall"...

I am annoyed. Not just "I didn't sleep well last night" or "the idiot neighbor left his lights on all night again" annoyed. This is STALL annoyance. Not just any stupid crappy bathroom stall either...but I suppose just as crappy. The worst kind of stall...a weight one. Grrr! So I have posted in the past on the blog and on my support forum about how stalls happen. I have read posts from people way more post-op than me, how weight loss after surgery is pretty consistent for the first 8-10 months and then slows down...plateaus...whatever. I get it. I understand that weight loss is like a long spiral staircase and that on the way down we hit different levels and plateaus where our bodies will need to rest from the previous pounds it has just lost so it can then keep going down to the next level. Again, I get it. Do I LIKE it? No...I...don't.

For two weeks I lost about a half pound per day. I was down 7ish pounds and had been welcomed into TWOville (299) with open arms and I was feeling SO great about my 65 pound loss. This week, I went back to work, worked out early in the week, ate the appropriate amount of calories, looked into some higher quality vitamins and lost NOTHING. In fact, because my hormones are so messed up with my "special Aunt Flo" coming to see me without warning and whenever she wants, I was up about 2 pounds and I know it wasn't from what I was eating. Even though I know I am doing everything right, I am still easily frustrated by stalls. Should I be? No. Should I even be weighing myself as much as I am? Hell no! I can't help it, I do and I am bothered by the stalls. I know my body is adjusting and taking a rest before losing again, I do. I know that when we stall, we are probably not only preparing for the next loss but also losing some inches in the process. I know I should be measuring myself but I hate to. I know I should have taken a "right before" surgery picture and be taking pictures now too. I don't because I am not down to a point where I want to show a full body picture to anyone. If I don't see a ton of change, how will others? If I see someone I haven't seen in a while and they don't notice any difference, why would I be motivated to show pictures of myself to others yet? I'm not so it won't be happening right now. For now, I keep plugging through the resting levels on my very long, personal spiral staircase. I keep hoping I find my castle below the clouds. Until then, I will take one big breath and then another until I am rested enough to take on the next level. There are not banisters any of us can slide down on this staircase to heaven (sorry couldn't resist).