Bariatric Betty, Centurion, has a long week

It's for real this time.  After I stepped on the scale and it read 143.4 pounds this morning I didn't get excited.  I stepped off and let it recalibrate - because it's faked me out before.  Three times later, I believe it.  I have lost 100 pounds!  My BMI is down to 25.9 from it's high of 43.2.  So, today isn't really that different than every other day that I work the program, and nothing changes other than how I'll answer people when they ask how much I've lost and my new nickname for myself.  Centurion.  Wikipedia says it was a professional officer who commanded sometimes 100, but more often 60 - 80 soldiers.  I'm in command of my body, and I've discharged 100 pounds that were not fit for service.  :)

This is not to say the road has been easy.  Last Friday I had an epic fail - my first dump from knowingly eating something I shouldn't.  Damn glaze.

Like everyone else, the news from New Town hit me hard - especially because I work in an elementary school and I couldn't help thinking of all of "my kids" as well as my sons in such a tragedy.  So I thought I was handling it well when my first thing I did after work was take my dog for a 2 mile walk.  Then my 3rd grader son got off the school bus and told me he got in trouble for telling a friend he was "going to beat the crap out of" him.  What?!?  My first response to him was "I'm just happy you're home safe - give me a hug".  But then I spent the next couple hours talking with him about why "using your words" doesn't include threatening someone.  About how some children are not as lucky as him and come from homes where they get hit - sometimes so badly that they can't live with their parents anymore.  That while he knows he wouldn't actually beat someone up, that doesn't mean that anybody else should believe that.  I prepared my husband for the possibility that he could be suspended for threatening a student.  I prepared my son for that possibility as well, explaining that if anybody threatened him I would want them to have serious consequences.  The teacher gave some consequences and defused the situation, but she would still need to involve the principal, and we wouldn't know the outcome until this week.  Then we talked about his consequences at home.  After lengthy conversation, we decided that we would try to focus on something positive and use his saved allowance for December to go shopping for Toys for Tots on Saturday.  He picked out a toy that he hopes to get for Christmas himself and paid for it.  Then he put it in the donation box and we talked about how that was going to help a kid less fortunate than him have a happier Christmas. 

Back to Friday night, and I was finishing some cookies for a coworker.  Cookies that get dipped in glaze.  I licked my fingers, and then started scooping up the drops of glaze that dripped of the drying cookies.  About 2 tablespoons later, my stomach started to feel bad.  I threw out the rest of the glaze as soon as the cookies were finished, but the damage was done.  I had to call my 12 year old in to finish making dinner while I crawled into bed.  Owwwwwwwww.  My moaning scared the heck out of my husband when he got home.  I felt nauseous as well, but there was nothing to throw up - the thick sugar water had been absorbed and I was blessed to dump.  So that's how I celebrated the 7th night of Hanukkah - being thankful for the small miracle of dumping.  My guilt over my husband having to jump in to take care of the kids while I recovered was significant.  And then he came and talked to me.  He told me that he knew I got a lot out of baking, and that I seem to do really well controlling my intake except for when I get glaze all over my fingers...  He made me a wonderful offer.  From now on, when I make the cookies with glaze, he said HE will glaze them for me.  How cool is that?  Not only is he going to help me keep making healthy choices and enjoy my hobby, now he is going to turn something that I really enjoy doing into something every better - because he is going to do it with me!  I'm so excited!  I won't be making any more until next November/ December, but now we have a plan and I'm really looking forward to it.  His idea gave me control over this ever happening again.  I'm so lucky to have him as my husband. 

Of course, having a plan for cookie baking doesn't take care of the emotions that come with the death of innocent children.  We decided that our whole family should try to look for opportunities for random acts of kindness for the next 20 days.  So far we've donated some toys, given away closer parking spots, helped a stranger find something and opened numerous doors for others.  Last year we helped pay off someone's layaway, and we'll probably look into doing that again this year.  I'll keep looking for ways to help others, be grateful for the health and safety of my family, and keep working the program. 

Speaking of work, my job has shifted again.  I'm now working the same hours but instead of being a monitor for kindergarten, 1st, and 3rdd graders during lunch and recess daily I'm working with two special needs kids (one kindergartener, one 4th grader).  They both have significant issues that require 1-on-1 attention and help eating.  Some parts of this are very fulfilling, other parts are not - like chasing after them when they bolt/ have a tantrum.  Or yesterday when the 4th grader bit my arm (luckily not breaking the skin) hard enough that it's still sore with bruising today.  The main down sides are that (except for running after them if they bolt) I don't get my extra 5000 steps in walking around like I ued to checking in on all of the kids, and I also don't have the chance to help kids with the jungle of playground drama issues they have to figure out as they get older.  My major accomplishment this week is that I've gotten my kindergartner ward to actually eat most of his lunch without running away screaming 4 days in a row.  That's huge. 

When I see kids struggling whether with special needs like autism, or behavioral issues, or just normal growing pains ("...she said she was my friend, but now she says she's not!") I want to help.  It's easier and more fun when it's helping kids be better friends than helping someone toilet or eat.  But, in both cases I feel like I'm having a positive impact on others even if I don't feel it every day.  That's something I need to feel in my life - even if they're not able to verbalize "thank you".  Luckily, my bosses have reacted positively to my request for more training so I know how to handle physical outburst more safely for both the kid and myself in the future!

My son ended up working with the school psychologist on a social story/ plan on what to do when he gets angry, which I sincerely appreciate.  While part of me wishes they had given some additional punitive conequences so he understood how seriously the schools take threatening to beat someone up, I'm glad they took the opportunity to help him figure out how to deal with tough situations in the future.  When he was first diagnosed with developmental delays and a speech disorder, we never guessed that he would be ABLE to speak well enough to get in trouble for verbally threatening someone.  So I guess as long as he has learned never to do that again, maybe I should think of this whole thing as a reminder of how lucky we are. 

Christmas is around the corner (we're an interfaith family, so we celebrate a lot of holidays) and my boys are excited.  My third grader sent a letter to Santa in his elf's backpack last night (taping it closed to make sure it didn't fall out on the trip - so cute!), and I've been handing out packages of Christmas cookies to teachers and coworkers. I pray that the holidays find all of you with your loved ones, safe and healthy, warm and thankful for your own blessings.  Heaven knows I'm thankful for mine, most of which are in the picture below.

 

Bariatric Betty's a shadow of her former self - PICS!

I'm blown away.  After seeing some pictures people had taken of them "wearing" a pair of pants they used to fit in pre-surgery by fitting both legs into 1 leg of the pants, I decided to try it.  So yesterday I dug through my old clothes and couldn't find any of my old size 20 pants - I donated a lot of clothes right after surgery.  But, I did find a pair of size 18 jeans and tried it.  It worked!  The funniest thing was that they were tightest around my calves and ankles, the THIGHS fit in easily.  So when I went to visit my father-in-law with my boys I had a documenting session.  This is the picture my son Justin took of me!

Seriously?  Holey cow. 

So, the second part of my documenting was the body tracing.  Flashback: the weekend before my surgery, my younger son Ian and I were talking and I realized that even though I thought I had explained the surgery really well to him, he thought I would be coming home from the hospital skinny, or at least signifigantly smaller!  So, in an effort to explain the reality, I laid down on a piece of posterboard and had him trace my torso.  Then I filled in some of the internal organs involved in red (a little hard for you to see on the pink posterboard, but it worked for him and that's who I made it for).  Then I used a blue marker to show where the cuts would be made on my skin, and what the surgeon would do on the inside.  Then I explained that when I got home, the outline of my body would still be the same, that is would take months of my new eating and exercise for it to get smaller.   I ended up cutting it out yesterday and laid it against a blue background.

About 5 months post-op I was curious to see how my "new" body would compare to the old one, so I laid down on the pink posterboard again and had my son trace me again.  That's the smaller outline you can see inside.  I was surprised (and pleased) to see that it had changed that much at that point.  Then I decided that when I had reached my equivalent of "goal weight" (my doctor never set a number, but I had suggested being in the 150s and he thought that was great) I would do it again.  That evolved into thinking that I would have my son trace me again on a different piece of posterboard and cut it out so I could lay it over the old me. 

Now I'm in the 140s (never really thought that could happen 8 months ago) and my guess is this is pretty close to my final weight.  I'm down to 28.3 % body fat I would like to see that go down a little (healthy is considered 25), but I think that will be more turning fat into muscle, so the scale won't change that much.  95 pounds down from my initial weight.  So, time for the tracing! 

OK, I have to say that my son's tracing must have angled in under my muffin top, my chest, and the rest of me, and apparently when I lay down my bat wings go underneath the rest of my arm.  I considered having him retrace me and tell him to try to make sure the chalk went straight down - there were a couple spots that his tracing seemed to have two different tracks (I cut on the larger one).  But then I decided no - he had done all the other tracings of me without directions like that - he might have been angling those as well.  So you can see from my picture at the top that my arms are not stick-like - so take this as more as a perspective, not reality - but WOW!

So after I spent a while wrapping my head around THIS I realized something else.  I lost 30 pounds BEFORE the pink one was made.  My pink self could have been BIGGER.

This shows me as literally a shadow of my former self.  But I don't see myself as a shadow.  I see myself as distilled, or concentrated.  The essence of me, with the excess and unneccesary boiled away by walking, jogging, swimming.  I am distilled.  I am high proof. 

Bariatric Betty fights habit & head hunger, stands up for Wendy

Last night I realized that my eating has taken a turn for the worse.  Since I returned from my low-activity vacation I realized that my calorie intake when I'm high-activity has probably been a little low.  So, I've made an effort to make sure that at almost 5 months post op I'm hitting at least 1000 calories every day, some days 1100 - 1200.  That's fine.  What isn't fine is that I was getting in those extra 150 - 200 calories at night (around 8pm).  And that's falling back into a bad habit. 

Last night I had eaten well all day, even having an afternoon snack.  I had a healthy dinner, and then two hours later ate 1/2 cup of low-fat ricotta with truvia, torani sugar free vanilla syrup, and rasberries.  Not a bad choice if I needed a snack.  But I didn't need it.  I WANTED it.  And to reinforce that point, as I ate my last two bites my pouch decided to let me know that it was NOT HAPPY. 

I cuddled with my son and my dog and felt bad over my upset stomach while I realized what I had done.  I had a Quest protein bar for a snack at the pool in the afternoon, so I didn't need more protein or more calories.  I ate something because it tasted good and my head hunger tricked me. 

I announced to my husband and kids that I overate, and resolved to blog about as well for accountability.  Tonight I will not eat again after dinner.  Today will be a better day.

I also had a VERY interesting conversation with my sons this week.  They were watching an ad for Wendy's. OK, I just had to check to see if they have Wendy's in Canada/ outside the U.S. - and while they do have a few, for those of you who aren't familiar with it;  Wendy's is a fast food/ hamburger restaurant that was founded by a funny, persistant, and driven overweight man named Dave Thomas.  He named the restaurant after his young daughter, Wendy and made a picture of her in braids their logo.  Dave passed several years ago, and recently Wendy has started showing up in the newer ads.  Wendy is middle-aged now, and overweight.  So my boys were watching TV and saw an ad come on for Wendy's.  Their commentary went something like this:

"Wow, Wendy doesn't look like Wendy (the logo)"
"Wendy ate too much Wendy's"
"Wendy only looked like Wendy (the logo) before her dad named the restaurant after her"
"Wendy's (the person) Dad shouldn't have made unhealthy food at Wendy's (the restaurant)"
"Wendy has not done it, you know... she hasn't gone to the hospital to take care of it and so now she's stuck like that."

This last comment was from my 9 year old, referring to his belief that Wendy needs to get gastric bypass. 

This was all a little upsetting to me.  As a morbidly obese person, I was judged by others and heard harsh comments and jokes made about me.  My sons are both overweight, and although their activity level has increased and their BMI is going down, they have both had other kids tell them that they're "fat".  While I don't feel like they were trying to make a mean-spirited joke about Wendy's weight, I was very surprised that they would think that a stranger's weight was anything they should be passing judgement on, as well as the fact that my younger son apparently thinks that gastric bypass is a simple fix that anyone overweight should do. 

So I engaged them.  I started by asking them "Why do you think people are overweight?" (Ate too much food, ate unhealthy food, didn't exercise enough... fair enough answers) and then ended up explaining that while those are most of the reasons people become overweight, there are LOTS of reasons why people STAY overweight.  I reminded them that I needed to figure out that part of the reason I had been obese most of my adult life was because I felt safer that way because I thought I was less likely to be attacked (again). I finally realized that my weight wasn't protecting me at all, it was just hurting me.  Until people figure out why they are doing what they are doing, they will have a very hard time trying to change it.  We can not possibly know what anyone else's reasons are for being overweight, but we shouldn't assume that bariatric surgery will work for everyone, because it won't.   They weren't very comfortable during this discussion (neither was I) and I don't have a problem with that.  Because they were judging Wendy, and now that they got called on it, I hope they remember that discomfort the next time they think about judging someone else. 

Bariatric Betty's best NSV yet!

The week before my gastric bypass surgery, I found out something amusing.  Despite my best efforts to explain the operation and how I would be living/ eating afterwords, my 8 year old thought I would be coming home from the hospital skinny!  In an effort to demonstrate exactly what would be happening (and NOT happening) in the hospital, I lay down on a piece of posterboard and had him trace the outline of my torso in black marker.  Then I drew in my organs in red, showing how things looked on the inside right then.  Then using a blue marker, I drew in what the surgeon would be doing on the inside, and where my surgical scars would be.  After all that was done and I explained the entire poster, I said "See where you traced my body?  That will be just the same when I get home from the hospital.  The only thing that will change on the outside before I get home are the scars/ bandages where they made these incisions."  He was dissapointed and said "I thought you would be smaller because you lost weight."  I explained I WOULD be smaller, but not for months, and that maybe we could trace me again in 6 months and a year and see how I looked then. 

So.... On Friday I was 4 months post-op and my older son just happened to come upon the posterboard while we were cleaning.  So I thought "Why not?" and asked my younger son to trace me again.  I was hopeful it would show a difference, but tried to prepare myself that it might not be much of a difference.  I have always carried my weight in my torso/ abdomen, and tend to be as wide when seen from the side as when seen from the front. 

As I lay down again, I tried to help him center me in the initial outline.  "Can you see the line you drew before on this side?  Can you see it on this side?  How about my arms, should I move them up or down?"  He traced me, and for the most part I was lined up pretty well.  This is the result.

OK, so the new outline is drawn with a skinnier black marker and it's a little harder to see.  But, just look inside the bolder (older) outline and you can see the changes.  I was really surprised to how much my waist had come in.  It was great to see the difference in my arms as well, and that you could see a difference in my neck was almost shocking!  So now I have a new plan.

I had originally thought I would re-trace over the original one at 6 months and a year post-op.  Now I'm going to trace on new and different colored posterboards at 6 months and a year post-op and cut them out.  Then I'll lay the 1 year post-op on top of the 6 months on top of the pre-op and I should have a nice visual reminder of what I've accomplished.  Becoming a shadow of my former self.  Not normal, but extraordinary!  I think I might have it framed. 

If any of my readers are pre-op, I suggest you try this yourself.  While looking at the pre-op outline isn't fun at that moment, this let me see my changes in a way that felt very different from looking at before/ after pictures (although I recommend those as well).  Got to go, it's time to walk the dog and then on to Couch-2-5k training!