Bariatric Betty tackles Self Hate and Sabotage

Last Friday I stopped at our local Sears/ Lands End store to try on some tops.  I'm still building up my wardrobe at my goal size - my clothes from last summer are two sizes too big.  I have become a big fan of getting clothes second hand, but also hit the sales racks at places like Talbot's Outlet, Lands End, and of course Target and other places as well when I need something. 

I picked up several Medium Petite (still boggles my mind) tops and went to the dressing room.  Walking in there was a woman trying on a winter jacket (Lands End has GREAT deals on winter clothing right now) and I commented "Cute jacket!".  She replied "Not on a fat woman like me, maybe on somebody like you."  My heart fell.  I hate to hear people being cruel and calling people names, but one of the worst is when they are hateful towards themselves.  I couldn't just let it pass.  Here's a chunk of the conversation that followed:

"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself"
"No, it's true!"
"You know, a year ago I had bariatric surgery to lose over a hundred pounds, and I know it's really hard to lose weight.  Beating yourself up isn't going to make it easier."
(pause) "Wow, you lost 100 pounds!  You look great.  You would never know."
"Yeah, I feel great, too.  But for decades I tried Weight Watchers, Nutrisystem, and all sorts of diets.  When you find something that works for you, you will lose weight.  For me it took surgery to get it all off - otherwise I just kept losing the same 30 pounds.  Until then, you should give yourself credit for doing the best you can."
"I guess.  It all came on after I had my kids - I was never heavy before then...."

I felt so bad - here she was berating herself to a stranger in a public changing room.  I said a supportive comment and ended up hearing her whole weight loss history.  Of course, I shared mine first (heaven knows I like to share happy stuff with everyone) - but can you imagine how much she needed to talk to someone sympathetic that she was willing to talk about something that made her ashamed and mad with a total stranger?  She was perfectly willing to say mean things to herself, and I'm sure has heard cruel comments from others.  The sense that fat people deserve to be made fun of or be the targets of snide comments - or the even more twisted thought process that targeting them might make them more likely to lose weight and be healthy - it's RIDICULOUS.

Here's a link to an interview on the Today Show that showed up yesterday after I started writing this blog. http://www.today.com/health/my-butt-so-huge-fat-talk-common-harmful-6C10109738   It talks about how women hurt their self-esteem and that of others by participating in negative self-talk or negative comparisons to others.  What many may think is trying to help support a friend unhappy with their body, i.e. "Oh, no - my hips are SO much bigger than yours!" is not helping.  It is leading into an almost competitive cycle of trying to make others feel better at your own expense - where the original unhappy person then feels the need to point out that her "flaws" are even BIGGER.  So instead, talk positive.  About yourselves, about others.  When your friend says "My muffin top is turning into a whole CAKE top!", say "I think you look beautiful" - not "my muffin top just filed for it's own zip code".  When you are frustrated that your own physical fitness goals aren't showing up the way you would like,  i.e. "Why can I now see some ribs outlined but still have a jelly belly???" think "I have worked hard, I feel better, and I look better.  I can't control where my body decides to lose fat, but I can make the most of the parts I'm proud of."

Now, fast forward to yesterday, when I tried on a new pair of shorts with an older shirt.  I didn't think they necessarily worked together, so I asked my husband.  He agreed.  I tried a different shirt, and he tried to explain that my top is so curvy, but the bottom half is so straight, and the original combo just seemed to over-exaggerate it.  He was right, I have a large chest and then very little hips or butt.  So I needed an outfit that created a little more balance.  I had unrolled the legs on the short to about a 10" inseam, but originally they were rolled to about a 7" inseam.  I rolled them back up and with the new shirt felt better.  Still, I looked in the mirror several times yesterday morning, and ended up asking my 12 year old son what he thought.  Warning Sign Alert - if you have to ask your 12 year old son for fashion advice, it's a sign you are feeling a little insecure!  The following is a recap:

"Justin, does this outfit look OK?"
"Ummm, that depends... where are you going to wear it?"
(internal alarm, uh-oh, what the heck?  Maybe my tucked-in shirt is showing my extra-skin flaps too much???) "To work"
"Oh, then it's fine."
(???) "OK, just wondering , where WOULDN'T it be a OK to wear it?"
"Ummm, to drop me off with my friends"
"OK, I promise I won't be upset, but I want to know what makes you uncomfortable about your friends seeing me like this." (Oh boy, I hope this doesn't hurt too much)
"Well, Mom, could you wear jeans or something?  I'm not used to seeing your knees, it just seems weird..."

LOL.  Yes, my son wasn't embarrassed by my flaps of skin, or my large chest - he felt that my shorts falling just above my kneecaps was embarrassing!  Watch out - I'm a hootchie mama!  Looking back, I shouldn't be surprised, he told me that if any of his friends wear shorts that don't come below their knees some of the guys at school call them "bootie shorts".  It gets even more funny when you know that I wear skirts above my knee (about the same length as the shorts yesterday), but that doesn't bother him.  But shorts that showed the ENTIRE KNEECAP???? Gasp.

We can be our own worst enemy.  Don't give in to the negative trash talk in your own head.  It makes it easier to do it again, and easier to believe that others are thinking/ saying even worse. 

Speaking of our own worst enemy - I caught myself before I sabotaged myself yesterday.  Yay for the catch, boo for the constant vigilance required.  I have been making meals for a friend once a week - she's been very ill for several months, and a couple of us bring meals a couple times a week to take some of the pressure off the family.  This week I offered to bring "Breakfast for Dinner" - French toast casserole, quiche, and a carrot/ yogurt/ craisin salad.  They have a severe peanut allergy in the family, so it's important to read and re-read the labels.  I started being concerned about the quiche crust.  In the past, I have found it a little tricky to find ready-made pie crusts that don't have lard.  And now I would have to find one without any peanut oil/ exposure to nuts in the factory.   Hmmm.  I started thinking about making my own crust.  OK, that's simple.  Then I remembered how much I like to nibble on pie crust dough.  Yeah, I know, weird.  I don't know why it tastes good to me, but it does.  And then I found myself thinking about nibbling on pie crust dough probably 50 times over 24 hours.  Not exaggerating.  And about how I should probably make a little extra to make sure I had enough dough - but knowing it was really so I could eat some but still have enough.  Yikes.  So I started thinking about going back to finding a pre-made crust.  But they usually come in two packs.  I would have a whole extra pie crust.  Extra pie crust, mmmmmm.  Seriously?  Then here comes my AHA moment.  Wait, I can use that whole extra pie crust to make another quiche for another meal for them.  So I can't break off a piece and eat it, because I will need it for the next week!  Restraint engaged - logic wins!  It was that hard.  You never know where your brain will take you on these weird cravings/ food addiction trips.  Every day is a journey, where we have to make the choices that will keep us healthy.  Some days are easy down-hill paths, other days we have to climb the mountain in the way. 

On a positive note - I saw a wonderful friend this weekend who hadn't seen me for over a year.  She has seen my pics on facebook, and knew all about the surgery, but it was still a shock for her.  I loved getting to visit with her and her family, and of course the complements felt wonderful.  Mostly though, I loved seeing our kids together.  Except for maybe when two of our sons demonstrated their "feedbag method" of eating a bag of popcorn.  Gross. 

Getting ready for summer break to start next week - and it turns out I registered for another 5k I forgot about.  Now I have to figure out if I can do it with the kid's baseball schedules.... 





 

Bariatric Betty wrestles with Head Hunger and takes a leap of faith

Head Hunger - the feeling you have when your brain is telling you that you are hungry, but you are not.  You might be thirsty, you might have just seen or smelled something that awakened a craving, or you might have just stumbled upon a trigger that used to cause you to eat (emotional stress, a time of day, a social situation..) 

Real hunger isn't something that my stomach can feel yet - it will probably be 12-18 months post-op before I feel that again.  That's part of why this is called the "honeymoon" period. 

So this week has been enlightening in several ways.  First - head hunger.  I have experienced this numerous times before this week and dealt with it OK; drinking more fluids, sucking on a cashew, distracting myself.  This week I experienced a stronger feeling, about 1 1/2 hours after dinner.  I felt hungry.  Not thirsty, but like I didn't have enough to eat.  So, given that I had eaten 1/3 cup of cooked lentils with a couple tablespoons of greek yogurt for dinner, I thought "OK, I'll get a little more lentils.".  Note - not craving something "bad" - head hunger can be sneaky!  I got another 1/4 cup of lentils and started chewing slowly.  After two bites, the "Uh oh" feeling hit, and I went and threw them up.  Yuck.  I cuddled up with blanket I thought about the other head hunger episodes I've experienced and realized that evening time is a trigger for me.  A couple hours after dinner (about the time the kids start saying "can I have a snack") my head is trying to get me into my old habit of having a snack.  I can distract myself, drink more fluids, etc, but it is still trying to fight me.  Weird talking about your brain as if it's another person.  Anyway, I decided the best thing I can do is put it out there.  My kids (and sweet hubby) are never happy to listen to me get sick - so when I said "Hey guys, I just realized I should NEVER eat after dinner.  It will only make me sick.  Drinking and sugar free popsicles are OK, but no food" they listened and I knew I would be held accountable.  Hah!  Take that sneaky head hunger!

I made need an intervention in the future about my consumption of sugar-free popsicles, but for now I will let it slide.

So, a couple of fun things this week.  I have been struggling with what I will wear to my son's first communion and my best friend's wedding reception.  All of my dresses in my closet are too large.  I went online and found an adorable cotton & silk dress that I thought would work for both, and I was going to order my current size, when I realized that the next size down would be $15 cheaper.  We will discuss my rage issues regarding the overpricing of plus-sized clothing another day.  ;)  Hmmmm.  Given that I'm losing about 2 pounds a week right now and my friend's reception is about 45 days away... I ordered the smaller size.  So, that's my little leap of faith - that I will fit into smaller dress size in 45 days.  At my heaviest I was a size 22 dress, now I'm down to feeling like a 18 is roomy.  And a 16 is on it's way to my house! 

My other fun thing happened yesterday - after getting my hair done my curiosity got the better of me as I passed by a Talbot's outlet store.  Oooooo, nice clothes...  Talbot's is a store I haven't set foot in for over a decade.  Too expensive, and my body wasn't Talbot's size.  But the big posters in the window saying "Additional 75% off already reduced prices" lured me in and boy was I in for a surprise!  First of all - Talbot's has plus sizes!  I don't know when that started - I don't remember seeing plus sizes in other stores in the past - it might be just because it's an outlet store.  But for all of you who might wear plus sizes now - check out Talbot's!   Second of all - I don't NEED to wear the plus sizes!   I fit very nicely into several pairs of shorts and pants (size 14) and actually narrowed down my choices based on what looked BEST.  Huh, enough things that fit that I could say "I prefer the way this one looks to that one."  Best of all - sale prices!  I got a wonderful plum corduroy blazer, two pairs of shorts, and four blouses for under $40.  SWEET. 

My last thought - Passover.  For those of you who don't know me personally, my religous background is confusing and I have not ever formally been a part of any religion or congregation.  However, my faith is very strong and I have found a lot of comfort praying Hebrew prayers and celebrating the high holy days for the last decade.  Someday I might make the step to conversion, but right now I have quite enough converting going on in my body and mind (thank you very much).  My family is very supportive - my husband was raised Catholic but fits more into a Zen-buddist Catholic mindset than anything, and since I didn't have a strong religious background to raise our children in, they have been raised in a similar open-minded, inclusive Catholicism.  So this is the first Passover in quite some time that I'm not participating in a Seder (either my own mini-one or one thrown by friends) and while I'm not having anything leavened/ hametz that is more part of my medical journey than spiritual one.  It feels strange.  And my kids miss the matzah!  One step at a time.  But my prayers are just as strong (or stronger) and I know they are heard.

Bariatric Betty - 5 weeks out, new totals, new job!

So today is day 36, and tomorrow I get to start trying transitional foods.  That means very small amounts of super-toasted bread products (the crunchier, the better) and things like a bite or two of iceberg lettuce.  Woo-hoo!  Chewing continues to become more and more important as I eat more things that won't just slide out the tiny opening in my stomach.  I've had several reminders to CHEW MORE like two unchewed lentils stuck together blocking that opening and causing pain and vomitting.  Once it was a shredded piece of cheese.  The new crunchier foods increase that risk if I don't chew well.  I continue to feel uneasy about eating in front of others outside my immediate family because of this, but I'll keep working through it.  My best friend was sweet enough to not only give me the entire menu for her wedding reception, but to tell me the restaurant that's catering it, so I can try things ahead of time if I want.  I'll still need to eat protein I pack, but I could at least taste some palak paneer!

So lots of good news this week.  As of today, I actually weigh the weight on my driver's license!  That is very exciting, and again makes me wonder why they don't actually have us stand on a scale (without our seeing the weight) that would automatically enter the weight in the computer at the DMV (and not put it on the driver's license for the world to see).  After all, if I had disappeared a year ago, they would have been looking for someone that weighed 52 pounds less than I did - how would that have helped them find me? I have actually imagined that heaven forbid I had been murdered and they found my body, them saying "Nope, this can't be that girl, she's much more obese."  HELLO - how many of the people getting license give their correct weight?  I'm guessing even those who have never been obese fudge a little.

Yup, 52 pounds!  My BMI has gone from 42.1 down to 33.9.  I'm losing 1 to 2 pounds a week, which is right on target for now.  It will slow further as I have less to lose.    I'm very excited about achieving my next goal - no longer being obese.  When my BMI gets to 29.9, I will be overweight, but not obese.  Celebrating being overweight sounds oxymoronic, but when you started out being Morbidly Obese, it's a real milestone. 

So yesterday I brought a pizza party to my son's classroom to celebrate his birthday.  I suggested that instead of cupcakes or cookies, because I figure by giving them a lunch of cheese pizza, grapes, and water they were probably eating the same number of calories they would normally get at lunch, but it felt like a huge treat.  The kids had a blast - and funny enough I didn't have the slightest craving for the pizza.  I didn't even want to lick my fingers as I plated all 24 servings.  I used to love pizza. 

So after lunch I stopped by to chat with the principal and let her know that I will be all healed up and off restrictions after our spring break, so if she needed anyone to sub as a monitor (watching the kids for lunch and recess) I would be available.  She had offered to hire me fulltime (2.5 hours a day M-F) last fall after I had applied as a sub, but I had told her that with the planned surgery I would be out a couple months in the winter/ spring, and didn't think it would be fair to them.  Her response was "How did you know?  Did you know?  That I just got two resignations this morning?  They're on my desk right now!"  So, I'm hired "fulltime" as of 4/16!  The pay isn't great, but I will only be working when my kids are in school, I'll have a really good idea of what's really going on in the elementary school, and hopefully I can help keep the peace.  Given my strong sense of fairness and sense that school should be a safe place for children, I hope neither the principal nor I regret this!

The interesting thing is I realize now that I probably couldn't have done this last fall when I applied.  You see, you constantly stand and walk for 2 1/2 hours.  While I was walking 2 miles a day, doing the elliptical for 1/2 hour (5 miles) and other active things, just standing for an hour used to make me sweat.  I remember volunteering at the bookfair and walking around a small room helping kids for 1 1/2 hours and being sweaty and exhausted.  Because when you are morbidly obese, your body works really hard just STANDING for a long period.  It was easier to do 5 miles on the elliptical than stand/ walk a little for 1 1/2 hours.  

So I'm going to start increasing the lengths or my walk with my dog now to make sure I build up my endurance a bit more before starting my job in April.  I know my body is totally different now, and I'm not as limited as I was, but I'm still obese and at my current approx. 600 calories a day, my energy level isn't sky high by any means.  At least I know I will be guaranteed a lot of walking (in addition to walking my dog) for the rest of the school year.  Once summer starts, I'm looking at starting Couch To 5k training with the whole family.  Now that will be interesting. 

Bariatric Betty at 1 month post op with pics

Wow, what a month!  Full of emotional highs and lows.  Some "it can't be this easy" moments and some "why have I not lost weight for the past few days" ones.  All in all, I have been pretty complication-free!

At 3 weeks I had my first post-op follow-up first where they said I had already lost the average excess weight (16%) they see in RNY patients at one month.  Good thing, because I've only lost another pound and a half since then.  Part of that is because of my journey with pureed foods and then recently soft foods (no blenders!).  You defintely lose slower once you are actually eating.  I have also slowed my eating, and now take 20-30 minutes to eat a meal (vs. that too-fast black bean soup puree moment).

Here a picture of me I took today

Most people say they can see the change since surgery most in my face.  I also have to show this other picture I took of my new furry friend, "Bearyatric Betty" - a great recovery gift from my friend and WLS mentor, Jo.

Jo's the best - other than the fact that reading Bearyatric Betty's name made me laugh so hard it pulled my stitches. 

So, I had a little scare last week when I worried I was becoming intolerant to dairy.  Being ovo-lacto vegetarian, that was concerning.  I get 1/3 - 1/2 of my protein daily from dairy.  After 2 rough stomachs with Greek Yogurt and 1 horrible one with pureed cottage cheese,  I tried to take Lactaid with dairy and that seemed to help.  In fact, it helped so well a couple times, I started to wonder whether I even had a problem.  So I stopped taking the Lactaid, and what do you know  - I'm fine with dairy!  Huh.  Don't know what happened, but I am glad it stopped!

I went to our community garage sale yesterday and got a bunch of things.  I needed some size 16 pants (my 18s are starting to fall off) - so I got two pairs of jeans, 1 white tailored blouse and 1 pair of shorts that fit right now for a total of $17.  I also bought some khakis that will fit in another 10-15 pounds, ditto 2 skirts, and then two blazers I can wear with pant/ shorts or skirts when I'm down another 20.  I'm going back Tuesday for "bag day" - when you can get anything you can fit in one of their good size bags for $5 - and stocking up on lots of shirts and shorts for the summer in various sizes. 

So I started my "soft foods" the other day!!!  So far I've enjoyed 2 ounces of fresh mozzarella with a slice of tomato, 1/2 cups of scrambled egg beaters with 1/4 cup shredded cheddar, 1/2 cup of morningstar veggie crumbles with a little spaghetti sauce and 1/4 cup shredded mozzarella, 1/2 cup of low fat cottage cheese with unsweetened mandarin orange slices - all with no dumping, no overeating, and chewing well. Then came lunch today.  I thought I would try the morningstar veggie meatballs with spaghetti sauce and mozzarella (similar to the crumbles).  Unfortunately, on my second bite, I didn't chew long enough and got a piece about 1/3 inch long stuck in my pouch.  OWWWWWWW!  First came the drooling, then the pain - kind of angina-like.  I tried to swallow some water to see if it would push through - I FELT it move up and then wedge right back in there.  Owwww. So I spent the next 15 minutes trying to throw it up - finally did, whew.  I know I'm lucky that I haven't had to throw up since surgery until now - and it wasn't that bad since I've had all this time to heal - but I'm in NO HURRY to experience anything like that again.  Latest lesson - THINK about the chewing EVERY bite.

During a spell where there wasn't any change going on with the numbers on the scale, I measured myself.  This was very cool - because I hadn't measured myself since November.  In November I was halfway through my pre-op 90 day medically monitored diet, and since then I have lost 5 inches in my waist, about 4 in my hips, and about 3 in the band around my chest.  I also lost 1 inch off my biceps, and almost an inch off my thigh.  I'm pretty happy with all of that.  My only disappointments is that some of my weight has come off my butt - which was fairly small to begin with, and that none of it seems to be coming off my cup size.  I know that I will have less "sagging" pants moments when I have a more defined waist, and that will come.  I also expected that my bountiful chest wouldn't reduce much (if at all) based on past weight loss, but I was holding out hope.  Maybe it will change later, but probably not. 

This brings up the ghosts of discomfort of being looked at like I'm a waitress at Hooters... but I will deal with that if/ when it comes.  At least I won't be dealing with diabetes and morbid obesity at the same time.  It's hard when people assume that the only reason you have a large chest is because you WANT that type of attention, and that it must be implants.  As the rest of my body gets smaller, they become more apparent.  But, right now, I have enough to focus on with sticking to the plan.  Tomorrow will bring what it will.  And I'll do my best with whatever that is.

One last thing - I now live in Onederland!  Translation for those who have never struggled with their weight - I'm under 200 pounds.  I actually got there a while ago but was nervous about announcing it.  Not because I thought I would gain it back (NO way), but because for many WLS patients, it takes a year or several to reached this promised land.  By the time I had surgery I was only at 213, so I didn't have that much to lose to get there.  It definitely doesn't compare to the achievements of those who started much heavier, and I didn't feel right about "bragging" about it because it could make some of my fellow WLS patients feel like I was diminishing their accomplishments.  So I haven't announced it on my private facebook groups, but I figured if you are reading my blog, first of all THANK YOU, and second of all - you probably know me well enough by now to know that I'm not comparing this landmark of mine to anyone else's.  Everyone takes their own journey.  But I'm not going to hide successes or setbacks on this blog - so there it is!

Bariatric Betty says "What are we doing to our kids?"

Those of you who have read my blog before know that my children are a large part of the reason that I want to have this surgery.  I don't want them to grow up without a mom, or with a blind mom, or with a disabled mom if there is anything I can do to help it.  Being morbidly obese (actually now just "obese" with the pre-op diet) and diabetic means that those conditions are in my future - it's just a matter of when. 

It's also because I don't want my kids feeling like they have to defend or protect me.  When I hear that my kids have heard someone call me fat, or laugh at me, it breaks my heart.  It's never fun to be insulted or the butt of someone's joke.  But the big thing is that kids aren't supposed to defend and protect their parents - their suppposed to be protected and defended BY us. 

Then there's the fact that I want my children to be healthier than I am.  Having parents that always struggled with their weight and body issues, I want to be a good example.  I don't want to just say "go outside, play some basketball/ soccer/ run around.." - I want them to see me DOING that stuff.  To know that I will have the energy to join them and inspire them to be more active.  To see me eating healthy, and have healthy food for them to eat as well.  To know that a great way to have one-on-one time with me is to go biking, or swimming, etc. - not just cuddling up on the couch. 

My kids are overweight.  Not obese, but overweight.  One of them was in great shape until about 1 1/2 years ago, when we moved.  He is a black belt in Tai Kwon Do and was incredibly active.  No matter what he ate - he burned it off.  Now that he's just moderately active, it has started to accumulate.  My other son has always been heavy, in addition to have developmental delays and low tone.  We have always gotten them into community sports, and started taking them to the gym twice a week 5 months ago - and it's making a difference.  My husband has taken the brunt of that - he committed to getting them there no matter what - and it's rare that they miss a Tuesday or Thursday.  Their clothes fit differently, and the scale shows that they've leveled off.  Our pediatrician said that he would like them to be active and work on "stretching" their bodies out - getting taller without gaining much, not putting them on a diet.  But we have cut change their preference to graze to having defined snacks, and my personal battlefront has been serving size.  My 8 year old now knows serving sizes of many of his favorite snack foods.  He double checks the amount of Cheerios or pretzels he puts in a bowl with me.  He knows that he can have 5 crackers with his cheese.  It's still hard though - because there are times he just WHINES about wanting to eat more.  I usually don't give in.  He still gets treats - just not everyday, and when he does get them, they replace a snack.  That's important I think, because I want him to learn moderation.  I don't want him to end up like me. 

So this morning while I was working out I watched Toddlers & Tiaras.  It's easy to feel morally superior and snarky when you watch an editted "reality" show like that.  Usually when I watch it I cheer for the underdogs and girls who actually seem nice, and hope everyone else finds a good therapist some day.  Today, my heart hurt as I watched.  A big thrust of the episode was about the girls' weight.  As the pagent director put it "girls who aren't really pretty or are a little chubby should just find another hobby".  OK, I think all of the girls there should find another hobby, and a small percentage actually enjoy what they're doing, but it was the overall message she was giving that blew me away. 

The girls she was talking about were under 10.  Most were 4-7.  Choosing a girl as "most beautiful" from a group is one issue.  Telling girls that young that they are not pretty enough or too heavy to even be IN the competition appalls me.  Most of the pagent directors in other episodes talk about "building up girls' self  confidence" and "being proud of yourself".  This director from Arkansas held up no such illusion.  "These girls should look like Barbie". 

If I was a reporter, I would now insert several links to studies that show how young girls body images are damaged by dolls like Barbie, or reference other articles about how a woman actually built "like Barbie" would be incredibly unhealthy, almost grotesque to look at, or at women who have had dozens of plastic surgeries to approximate that "Barbie" look.  But I'm just an opinionated mom, not a reporter, and you can look those things up if you haven't heard of them.  And I think that if I had a girl I would let her have Barbies, I would just also make sure to point out how weird their proportions are, and make sure she had other dolls as well. 

Perhaps even harder was listening to moms who put their daughters on diets.  At 5 and 7 years old.  These children were not overweight, let alone obese, but they were going to "eat lots of salads" so they would look better in their beautywear.  One mom who was hyper about it, ended up having her daughter's beautywear dress be TOO LOOSE because she had lost more weight than she thought.  Think about that.  A 7 year old who probably weighed 60-70 pounds to start lost about 10 pounds to prepare for a pagent.  And then the judges ended up deducting points because her dress was too loose.  Or the 10 year old girl who won the Ultimate Grand Supreme (translation: the biggest prize) who stood in front of a mirror, probably weighing 65 pounds in this beautiful dress and said to herself "This dress makes me look big". 

The United States has a big problem with obesity.  And the kids are starting to catch up with the grown-ups.  The government just finally changed the school lunch programs to say our kids have to be offered a fruit AND a vegetable at each meal.  However, they also caved to lobbyists and said that pizza can continue to be counted as a vegetable.  Read that last line again, I'll wait.

I heard about a contest that Disney is running where you submit pictures to show changes your family is making to try to improve their health.  LOVE IT.  Way to go, Disney!  The grand prize winners get all expense paid trips for 4 to their new Hawaiian resort.  I told my kids that I'm bringing my camera to the gym tonight to take pictures to show how well they're doing and submit it for the contest.  I'm telling you about it because I would love for everybody in the world to know about it.  Tell your friends, tell your neighbors.  Because even if it increases the number of entries ten fold and decreases our chances of winning, it increases our children's chance at healthy lives.  And they deserve that.

Bariatric Betty is happy to still be diabetic, but faces a sad reality.

Today I went for my 3 month check-up with my primary care doctor.  She hadn't seen me since I started the medically supervised diet (this is day 67 of 90).  She was thrilled with how I'm doing.  She agreed that I was right to lower my nighttime (long-acting) insulin when my morning numbers hit the 70's.  According to her scale I was 17 pounds lighter than 3 months ago!  I love her scale.  But, it lies.  I weighed myself three times at home before the 9:30 appointment this morning.  Once before I ate of drank anything and I was still in my pajamas.  Once after I drank 12 oz. of water and 12 oz. of diet coke (I will miss you, caffeine) and scrambled egg beaters with whole wheat bread.  And a third time after I was fully dressed.  Either her scale is off or I lost three pounds during the 1/2 hour drive to her office.  My scale is weighs me 1.5 pounds lighter than the one at the bariatric surgeon's office.  I'm not normally one to weigh myself numerous times in a day - just was wondering how much my weight fluctuated between eating / dressing/ etc. 

Anyway, she was really proud of me, and said she couldn't imagine how the insurance company would turn me down as a surgical candidate.  From her lips to God's ears!  I stayed and waited to hear my Hemaglobin A1C number... 6.4!  That is wonderful in many ways - first, it's the lowest it's ever been since I've been a diabetic.  Second,  while it shows my diabetes is marvelously controlled, it also shows I am still definitely considered a diabetic.  If it was under 6, my insulin would have been reduced (possibly discontinued) and then the question of my qualifying with the insurance company would have come into play.  Since I now have  a BMI under 40, I need to have at least one co-morbidity to qualify.  Diabetes is my only one.  Now I'm breathing easier, because my last set of labs before sumbission for approval from the insurance company show I'm still diabetic as well as compliant.  Yay!!!

Last night I got to go to my second local support group meeting.  It was just as fascinating as the first time.  Bunches of new people to meet, each with their own story.  Two women had lap-bands and one just a revision to the vertical gastric sleeve 6 weeks ago.  The other had hers a year ago and hasn't lost much weight or noticed it helping. Everyone was very encouraging and positive with her, suggesting that she talk to her new doctor about running some tests to see if the band is functioning.  One woman was a "lightweight" (BMI under 40) like me 15 months ago but has lost 90 pounds!  Another accidentally got pregnant just two months after her surgery.  Whoa.  Not recommended, but she and the baby are both fine.  She lost all the weight (including not gaining any during the pregnancy) she wanted to, and shared some great recipes with us.  She also recommended a latte machine at Bed Bath & Beyond for $30 - she said it reheats and reblends the latte during the day, and has a great recipie book with it that included a mocha latter with egg whites (it heats it enough that there's no samonela risk).  If I liked chocolate or coffee I would have been all over that.   Another woman who had just had plastic surgery to remove excess skin (and looked FABULOUS) and shared this recipe:
Kate'a Frozen Protein Treat
2 cups skim milk
1/2 cup greek yogurt
3 scoops unflavored whey protein powder
6 packets of splenda (or other sweetner)
1 1/2 cups of frozed strawberries

Blend and then pour in a sealable container and freeze.  She eats it as a high protein snack and said it's super.  THAT one I'm trying for sure.

On the topic of recipes, I came to a realization.  I may not be able to handle baking next year.  This may sound funny, but it's a huge tradition in my family.  We decorate our christmas trees with gingerbread, have a new year's eve cookie party for our kids and their friends, and after 3 years of practice I've finally gotten down the art of slovenian potica (a nut roll) making.  I'm very good at controlling my consumption of baked goods - it's before the baking that I am tempted.  Licking fingers and taste testing can sabotage a diet.  I've found a good way to handle it is to have other members of the family join me in the baking and to chew gum while I do it.  That works well for this year, but next year chewing gum will be a no-no (too much air being swallowed and the possibility of gum blocking my stoma) so I'm considering things like wearing a mouth guard, sucking on sugar free mints, etc.  Several of the members of the support group last night said that they can bake for their families without temptation now, so that gives me hope.  However, I have realized that if I find myself tempted, it would be better to give up this part of my identity than foil my brain re-training next year.  So I'll try; with company, mints, and mouthguards.  But if I taste one thing, that's it.  No more baking.  It's not worth ruining my tool.  And my friends and family would rather I was around than a plate of cookies.

For now I'm hopeful.  Hopeful I will qualify for surgery.  Hopeful I will make healthy choices and succeed.  Hopeful that I'm setting up good habits and supports that will help me in my new life.  And just having had Thanksgiving, I'm thankful that I not only have such a supportive family but that I found a way to work through all of this by blogging.  My thanks to you for reading.

Bariatric Betty has an anniversary, an appointment and a dream.

One year ago on November 3rd, my family moved from Central Ohio to the Cleveland area.  The overwhelming reason was to be closer to family.  My in-laws were elderly and my mother-in-law was declining rapidly.  Both they and my parents lived within an hour of Cleveland, and my brother lived 15 minutes away from the suburb that had the best public schools in the state.  Moving was very difficult (not the least of which was selling our house), but we made it.  My husband's job situation turned out to be less than ideal, so about 6 months ago he took a pay cut and now works in a better, more friendly environment.  His mother died this summer, but at least we got to see her a lot more of her for her last 6 months, and now we talk to and see his father much more than we would have been able to do from Columbus.  The kids were definitely traumatized by moving in the middle of the school year.  Going from being around places and friends they had known since birth to a brand new everything was very hard, and they struggled the last spring and summer.  Now their report cards are glowing and they have made new friends, but they still miss their old ones.  I miss my old friends too, but I feel like I'm in a healthier mental state here.  I know I had the easiest time with the move of the whole family, but I don't know if I would have pushed for the move if I knew how hard it would be on everybody.  This one year anniversary in our new home felt like a freeing experience, being able to look back and say "whew, we made it through THAT", but it's still not easy.  Worth it, but not easy.

I had my second appointment with the PA who is supervising my diet yesterday.  According to his scale I've lost 9 pounds (aha! my adjust-for-the-lying-scale plan worked!) and he was pleased looking over my food and exercise logs.  I'm halfway through the 90 days, and going to see him again in a month.  Now to keep up the progress - through Thanksgiving, which presents many challenges to those of us dieting... And the newest twist on my vegetarian, some keeping kosher, me on a diet challenged menu - my brother is dealing with a pre-ulcerous condition so he needs low acid (no tomato products) and low fat items.  Well, he's always been easy going - it's his turn to make things a little complicated ;)

Now for the funny part.  This is the dream I had last night (no psych degree needed for interpretation):  I was driving from Columbus to Cleveland to meet the rest of the family that was waiting for me there.  I had the last load of things from our old house in my car.  As I go through a small town I stop for a drink and see really ominous clouds rolling in.  I asked the owners of the town general store if I could go in their basement.  The first wave of the storm passes over, causes a power outage but otherwise, not bad.  I decide to make a break for my car and head home.  As I'm pulling away from the general store, a tornado takes the top half of the store off  and then flattens several other buildings before it dissappears.  I drove back to see if I could help anyone in the store and end up pulling several of them out.  I leave them with some of the supplies I had in my car including coupons for a free meal at McDonald's - but not my nuts because I knew that I had to have protein soon.  I got back in the car and drove towards my family knowing I was blessed to have a safe family and home to go towards.

Like I said, my dreams are pretty straightforward.  Combining the leaving our old home with leaving my old unhealthy lifestyle, trying to hide and be safe in what turned out to be a dangerous place (hiding from the risk of more sexual harrasment and assault under obesity) but leaving it behind to go where I could really be safe and happy...and trying to help a few people get out from their collapsed building too - that's pretty much me.  I'm pretty happy this morning, because I feel like pyschologically I'm pretty healthy now.  I've got my focus on the future, and I'm letting go off the bad habits of my past.  I'm moving closer emotionally with my family, and now I really will feel safer because my health won't be endangered and I'm strong enough to move obstacles (apparently including fallen beams in a dream house) if neccessary. 

I wish I could bottle this feeling for the hard days.

Bariatric Betty sells her past and her deals with her lying scale

In my former life, I was very active with my sorority.  Many who know me find this amusing, because I was raised by liberal/ hippie parents (brought home from the hospital in a tie-died onesie, no less) and tend to agree with liberals in general.  I also tend to dress super casual and wear little to no makeup on most days.  But it's true.  I love my sorority - Phi Mu - and have served it in many ways over the years.  When I was in college I found that the stereotypes of sororities were false; the women were intelligent, down to earth, and willing to live by stricter rules than the rest of the college students while donating their time and money to local children's hospitals.  What's not to love?  After I graduated I traveled for a year representing the sorority as a chapter consultant.  I supervised and reported on dozens of collegiate chapters and advised them on risk management, recruitment, scholarship, and philanthropy among other things.  Was I skinny?  No.  I was overweight, but nicely put together and with the attitude that I could make a difference in women's lives.  And I did - it was fabulous.  After my term was up, I decided to serve in a different way (I missed having my own home during a 100% travel position).  I was appointed the National Music Chair, which I LOVED.  I have always sung, and apparently word spread of my teaching women to sing while I traveled.  I attended local and national conferences, created choir programs and directed performances.  Later I served for years as a local officer, supervising collegiate chapters (mostly from afar) but still attending conferences and conventions.  As a result I have accumulated a LARGE wardrobe of suits, semiformal, and formal dresses over the years.  Not only because of the number of teas, balls, and conference sessions I have attended, but because of my fluctuating sizes. 

I ended up resigning as an officer of the sorority mostly because of the overwhelming needs of my special needs son at the time.  But I have to be honest, part of it was because of my weight.  I had less and less energy, and dressing up was getting more and more difficult.  Trying to find semi-formal and formal dresses as a 5'2" size 22 was difficult.  Forget attractive, it was just finding things that fit and didn't break my bank account.  So the dresses and suits have gathered dust for the last 5-6 years in my closet.  I donated some of them when I moved about a year ago.  The rest I hung onto for sentimental reasons, and because I thought - someday I might need them. 

No more.  When our local PTAs held their fall community garage sale, I purged my closet.  50% of everything sold goes back to the consigners, and the rest goes to PTA scholarships for graduating seniors.  Best of all, anything not purchased is donated.  So many plus size women will be getting some new outfits - maybe for job interviews, maybe for nights out or weddings.  Mostly, it's me letting go of what was.  I would like to volunteer for my sorority again, and when I weigh less I will have more energy to do so - plus have more fun getting dressed up for parts of it.  I only kept two dresses and one suit.  All are smaller sizes than I current wear, and ones that I actually felt pretty in when I wore them.  6 months after surgery I'll get rid of them too, or take them to the tailor.  The day before surgery I will be donating 90% of my "fat clothes" - only keeping enough to wear for the first month.  And meanwhile I'm buying smaller pants in assorted signs at the same sale - an idea I got from one of the WLS support groups on facebook.  They suggested getting some at garage sales since I will be changing sizes so quickly - you don't want to invest much until you stabilize.  I'm letting go of my obese past - and using the money I get for clothes for my healthy future.

My lying scale.  Ughh.  I look forward to stepping onto my scale every morning.  Nothing in my stomach, I've used the bathroom, I'm only wearing pjs.  This is the lightest I will be all day.  I usually weigh myself and then step back on holding my shoes (which are 1 1/2 pounds).  Here's the thing, when I was weighed at the doctor's office I didn't have my shoes on but it was 5pm.  And it said I weighed 5 more pounds than I did that morning WITH shoes.  Phbbbblltttt.  That's harsh.  I know that you are always heavier later in the day, but ouch.  So I don't trust my scale, even though it is pretty new.  I add 2 pounds onto the weight I get in the morning with my shoes before I record it in myfitnesspal.com log, because I don't want to have a bad surprise when I go back to the surgeon's office.  And I don't want them to look at my log and say "Hmmmm, you say you lost x pounds, but you also say you weight 5 pounds less than you do."  OK, would they do that?  I doubt it.  But it's my insecurity talking.  So I call my scale a liar, add two pounds before logging my weight, and just feel happy when  the number goes down.  And when my clothes fit better.  And when I get a complement.  :)

Lastly, I had to do a drawing project with my kids.  No matter how well I thought I had explained the operation to them, they kept thinking I would come home from the hospital skinny.  I wish!  So we traced my torso on posterboard, and then I drew in all the relevant internal organs.  I showed them the incisions that would be made, and how my Roux-en-Y bypass would rearrange things.  Then I said "When I come home, this outside line tracing my body will still be the same.  The surgery will not take fat away.  The outline will get smaller as I diet after surgery - the surgery just helps me not feel so hungry and lose weight faster."  Then they said "So, in a couple weeks you'll be skinnier".  Uhhhh, no.  "In a couple weeks I'll weigh less but still be obese.  In a couple months I won't be obese, I'll just be overweight., and in a couple of years I should be really healthy."  We'll see if the info sticks this time.  And I'm keeping the posterboard - because 6 months after surgery I want them to trace me again with a different color marker - so I can see how far I've come!

Bariatric Betty Looks Back

Why am I obese?  That is a loaded question, and it's one that every obese person has asked themselves over time.  We all have different reasons.  Part of it is genetics, we know that some people have genes that make them prone to obesity - but it doesn't guarantee that they are going to be obese.  The rest is choices they make and that are made for them. 

I was born a normal weight (about 7 pounds) to wonderful parents who have always struggled with their weight, but they've never been obese like me.  As a newborn, my mom's doctor told her that "a fat baby was a healthy baby" and told her to feed me until I stopped and then try to get me to eat again.  So I doubt my body has ever understood satiety and feeling full.  From then on, I was always a big kid, but not obese.

My parents were very health conscious so we didn't eat fried food, or things with heavy sauces, or anything like that.  In fact, as a young child my parents had me believing that raisins were "candy" and graham crackers were "cookies" except at the holidays.  Unfortunately (or fortunately to me at the time), my babysitter didn't understand the drill and introduced me to our corner drugstore and gave me a quarter to pick out any candy I wanted.  The sugar that was just a ten minute walk from my house!  I couldn't go back to not knowing, and my parents had to deal with what became a constant craving.  When I was in elementary school I walked to school with some friends.  Being an early riser I often got to my friends house before they were ready to go, and one time they were still eating their breakfast of sugared ceral.  SUGARED CEREAL!  The mom kindly asked if I would like some, and after being raised on Cheerios and Raisin Bran I jumped at the chance.  Soon I was getting to their house extra early every day and eating a SECOND breakfast, unbeknownst to my mom.  Eventually the mom called my mom to ask why I wasn't eating breakfast at home and my plan was foiled. 

However, I found other opportunities to get forbidden food - joining the girl scouts meant we bought all the food for campouts as a troop - sugared cereals, poptarts, marshmellows...  It wasn't the only reason I was in girl scouts, but it was probably a reason I stayed in so long (until high school). 

In high school I started buying candy on the way to or from school.  My favorite mints were at a bakery on the way.  When I needed money, I started selling blowpops at school that I bought in bulk, and that gave me more spending money.  I hated being overweight, but when my parents would cut back on what I could eat at home, it just made me want to get it somewhere else. 

In my sophomore year I reached a point where I was disgusted by my weight.  Looking back I don't think I looked that bad - after all, being 30-40 pounds overweight now seems like small change, but as a teenager it was brutal dealing with teasing, exclusion, etc.  I had my group of friends, but I wanted to be accepted by more kids.  I knew I wasn't healthy and I wanted to do something about it.  So, I announced to my family that I was going to start eating healthy and asked them to support me.  I made all my own meals, packed my own lunch, and could recite the calorie content of anything.  I started exercising at a gym several times a week in addition to walking and biking to/ from school.  No junk food.  No desserts.  No candy.  The weight started to come off.  Then I plateaued.  So I ate less.  Exercised more.  More weight came off.  About 6 months in I had lost about 35 pounds, but I wasn't losing any more.  So I started skipping meals.  I would tell my parents I had already eaten.  Or I had eaten a big lunch.  I lost more weight.  But eventually I started getting dizzy and feeling like I was going to pass out.  After a few days of that feeling something clicked.  I had started this to get healthy, and if I was getting dizzy from not eating, maybe this isn't healthy any more???  I asked my mom to make an appointment with my pediatrician so I could talk to him about eating healthier and make sure I was getting enough nutrients with blood tests. 

I ended up gaining about 10 pounds back and stabilizing for a little while.  But, there was a big change going on OUTSIDE me.  I was getting a lot of attention from guys.  Being naturally endowed, I now wore a 32DD bra, and guys noticed.  A lot.  Some of the attention was rude, some flattering.  I had my first real job in the kitchen of a restaurant, and one of the guys there was pretty cute, and he seemed to be flirting with me.  That was new to me, so I wasn't sure. 

Then one day at work I had to run down to the downstair cooler - a room that is basically a giant refridgerator.  I noticed from the outside that the door was slightly ajar, but that the light was off.  I thought how lucky it was that I had come down here now - the whole cooler of food could have spoiled.  I went inside closing the door behind me and turned to flip on the light.  Suddenly I was tackled.  Someone was grabbing me, groping me, pressing me against the wall.  It was the boy I thought was cute, but this was NOT flirting.  It was an attempted rape.  He had heard me anounce I was going down to the cooler and waited in there with the lights off to force himself on me.  I fought back, found the door, and ran upstairs.  In the main restaurant, nothing had changed.  Nobody had noticed anything.  How was that possible?  Confused, upset, and totally overwhelmed I explained I was sick and rode my bike home. 

I didn't tell my parents.  I was so overwhelmed - had I invited this attack?  I didn't think so, but my appearance sure attracted a lot of attention those days.  I wasn't wearing revealing clothing or anything, but just walking around with a chest that big makes some guys think you're sexy.  I didn't want my parents to overreact.  I couldn't handle any more drama.  I imagined my parents dragging me to the police station.  I imagined the boy saying that it hadn't happened, that he had just flirted with me.  I imagined my parents crying.  I kept it inside, but it found ways to come out.  When boys at school paid attention to me, I freaked.  Sometimes I ran away.  My friends we worried about me, and I confided in them.  They tried to support me the best they could.  They went everywhere with me so I wouldn't feel scared of being alone and getting trapped by someone.  They made excuses for me when I freaked out at a perfectly normal boy.  I had PTSD, but I wasn't diagnosed for another 10 years. 

I gained about 20 pounds in college, but wasn't obese.  I traveled as a sorority consultant for a year and LOVED it, but I missed being by friends and having a real home.  At the end of my contract I found a job in Central Ohio that let me move into an apartment not far from some friends and started working as a clinical trial coordinator and gained a little more weight - I bought all my own food and made unhealthy choices.  That's where I met my husband - he was an outpatient pharmacist and he was the one handing out the study drugs for my study.  Then I went into hospital management.  Soon afterword, I was put in charge of opening up a new satellite for the hospital.  Unfortunately, the doctor I worked with the most was frequently more interested in going golfing than hanging around the office if there weren't any appointments - which made handling walk-in appointments tricky.  Then he started doing what I considered "playing cardiologist".  He started doing stress tests and running holter monitor studies on patients.  This seemed odd because most of these patients seemed very healthy.  Then I started hearing him tell patients "if anybody asks, tell them you had chest pain" and my mental alarm went off.  I told my supervisor and she arranged a "secret" meeting when the office was closed where we made copies of all the charts that we could find of his patients that were having these tests run and then she forwarded them on to the hospital administration so they could investigate the potential fraud. 

Meanwhile, my boss also asked me to start letting them know each time the doctor left the office.  They were trying to gather information that would be used to counsel him, and I thought that was great.  Unfortunately, I put myself in the position of reporting on someone over whom I had NO AUTHORITY.  Here's a clue, if something like that happens to you, say no.  After it became apparent to him that I was "narcing"on his unscheduled absences he confronted me, in his office, with the door closed.  He didn't even know about the copied charts and potential fraud charges.  As he yelled at me, and implied that he was going to do something awful if this continued, my PTSD kicked in.

I finally went to a shrink.  I was diagnosed with PTSD and depression.  I started gaining more weight.  At my husband's urging I found another job. We had been trying to get pregnant for a year and finally did but I had a miscarriage.  That was horrible, but my husband was wonderfully supportive.  When we got pregnant again, I carried the baby to full term and only gained 1 pound!  It seemed a lot easier to eat healthier serving sizes when the baby was depending on me (and having it squish my stomach probably helped too).  A few years later and I had my second son, again only gaining 11 pounds.  Both boys were big (almost 9 and 10 pounds, 23 inches each) but no gestational diabetes or anything.  My weight after both pregnancies was lower than it was before I got pregnant.

When my youngest son was 18 months I could tell something was wrong.  We started getting evaluations for his regressing and delayed speech.  Eventually he was diagnosed with Apraxia - a motor planning disorder that affected his speech, eating, gross motor, and fine motor.  We spent the next 6 years with aggressive speech therapy, 3 years of PT, 2 years of OT and special needs pre-school.  By the time he was in elementary school the school district decided that he no longer qualified for school services, but he was still getting them privately.  I was his cheerleader, his taxi driver, his advocate, and his grizzly mama.  I did not take care of myself.  I ate too much, and I ate unhealthy - which contrary to popular thought is perfectly easy to do even when you're vegetarian. 

During that time I tried to lose weight with nutrisystem.  Then with weight watchers.  Then we began trying to sell our home so we could move back to Cleveland to be closer to all our family and my stress level contributed to me eating more.  I was hospitalized with the onset of diabetes.  I started religiously following the diabetes diet plans and got my blood sugar under control, but now I've been obese for over 10 years. 

Some choices were made for me.  I made more choices myself.  Being heavier used to make me feel safer in some ways, but now I know that it will kill me.  There is nothing safe about being obese.  In Cleveland I feel closer to family, loved by my husband and sons, and ready to take control of my health. 

Bariatric Betty and her BMI battle

Well, now that I know that I want to have my surgery at hospital C, I'm just waiting for the phone call from my assigned Personal Patient Advocate to start scheduling everything...

Meanwhile, I have been working on healthy changes at home.  It started out with a search for an elliptical at a bunch of garage sales.  That didn't pan out, but something else happened.  A neighbor offered me his Total Body Gym and treadmill for FREE.  I'm not a huge treadmill fan, and I think I'm lifting enough weight for the moment ;P but keeping my family, my future self, and the price in mind - I accepted.  Now I need to find some big strong guys who can help get it out of his basement into ours... (the current owner had a back injury/ surgery that prevents him from using, let alone moving them).  Then, after missing a great reconditioned elliptical at a Sears outlet by 1 hour, I decided to try out a bottom of the line basic model sold at Walmart for under $200.  My review - it works, as in it goes in an elliptical path and makes me sweat.  The console doesn't do great readouts (some of the numbers blink in and out of readability) but I can see how long I've been on it, and the resistance seems to work.  Given what I paid for it, I think that's pretty good.  I'm going to work on tightening the bolts to get rid of a thunking sound I hear every revolution.

So I've also cut down on snacking after dinner.  I used to have popcorn, or light fro-yo, or something after dinner.  Between our kids having their community sports gearing up and a concerted effort to distract myself most nights I'm not having dessert/ post dinner snacks.  I'm still walking at least a mile a day and now doing about 15 minutes a day on the elliptical (which sometimes says I have burned 144 calories doing it), and I have actually lost a few pounds in the last two weeks.  Now, my only concern is a strange one.  What if I lose enough weight that I'm no longer elligible for the surgery?

My BMI is 41, but in three more pounds lost it will be 40.  Currently I qualify for surgery by having a BMI over 40.  I will still qualify for surgery with a BMI 35-40 because of my co-morbidity of type II diabetes.  To drop under 35, I would need to lose 33 pounds from now.  Unlikely, but possibile.  Because I will be on a medically supervised diet for 90 days after my initial surgical consult, I should be continuing to lose weight.  I doubt I can lose 33 more pounds in that time period.  If I could, I wouldn't be considering this weight loss surgery.  The last time I lost 33 pounds it took me 5 months on a very restrictive nutrisystem diet.  So why am I worried?  I guess logically I'm not.  But it does seem strange that for some reason I wouldn't want to lose TOO much weight. 

The other part is that when I lose that much weight I haven't been successful at keeping it off.  I feel hungry all the time, and start thinking things like "why can everybody eat a piece of bread except me and I'm still obese?"  That's what I'm hoping will be taken care of by the surgery.  That I'll have a tool that lets me feel full - REALLY full, after eating just a small amount of bread, protein, vegetable, etc.  Then I won't want more.  A friend told me about a friend of theirs who had the surgery and for two years was religious about what they ate. After two years, he came into the breakroom and saw the every-present donuts and said "You know, I want a donut!"  So he cut a quarter of a donut off and ate it, smiled and said "OK, I'm full".  That's my dream.  Two years after surgery to be at a healthy weight, be able to have a couple bites of a dessert and say "OK, I'm done." 

Waiting for that phone call....