I never post

It's been pointed out to me that I never post to this blog anymore, and it's true.  I constantly have things to post about but my schedule has been such that I never sit down and just write them down.  So now...it's time.

I'm officially at 205 pounds this morning.  For those keeping track, that's 75 pounds less than I was a little less than 6 months ago.  Is that amazing?  FUCK YES.  Has it been easy?  HELL NO.

I think one of the reasons that I'm still reluctant to tell people about the surgery is that I feel like their automatic assumption is that I lost weight "easily."  Sure, it dropped fasted than it might have ordinarily, but the fact is, I still throw up and get sick all the time.


I've been planning my wedding for a while now too, and now that it's coming down to the food and drink, I'm ever more aware how terrified I've become of new foods.  If I haven't eaten it before, there's an automatic trepidation about what it will result in -- happy tummy, or sad, dumping Laura?  It's a Pavlovian response that I wanted... it's the reason that I opted for the Roux-en-Y instead of the Vertical Sleeve.  Not having a duodenum and not being able to tolerate food are good reasons to eat less, even after my pouch isn't quite as small.


Yesterday I ate some crackers from the vending machine at work in a pinch, and though they weren't super fatty and didn't have too much sugar, I started dumping... at work.  It was awful, feeling nauseated, dizzy, tired, and having no place to lie down and no ability to ameliorate the situation except just grinning and bearing it.  It IS sort of awful to be so utterly out of control, not know why you're sick in the first place, and to be unable to know when or where it will strike.


I went to Japan last week and I ended up eating almost nothing at all because I was so afraid of aberrant reactions to food. I ended up eating a lot of french fries and tomato salad! 


My um, bowel time is also often very difficult.  It tends to be very green, very big, and very uh... sticky.  It's rare that it won't scuff a toilet bowl, and when I was in Japan, fuck that was tough.  There was a floor toilet, and it was SO messy, and I was in there trying to clean up, cursing low Japanese water pressure, and all the while, some Japanese woman was outside the door of the bathroom going  "Hi? Hi? Hi?" and shaking the handle.


Those are the bad things.


The GOOD things are that I am NEARLY in "ONEderland" as the WLSers call it, with only five pounds to go!  I haven't weighed less than 200 pounds since I was like... 17? 16?  Over ten years!  Which is amazing!


I've also been shopping, even though I promised myself I would wait until I got closer to my goal weight to do it.  It became sort of necessary when my current clothes were just laughably big, too, so I suppose I can pretend that I'm not just a spendthrift and deny my absolute addiction to Express now that I can actually GO there.

Funnily, I'm not all that different size-wise.  Yes, I am now wearing size 16, sometimes size 14 pants comfortably, down from a 22.  But I still can't quite buy pants at say, H&M or Express.  Funnily too, I'm still a Large blouse even though I can't even remember wearing bigger than an XL.

I definitely like how I look in clothes a lot better, and I can wear heels for longer, and I got a lot of compliments when I was all gussied up at my friend's wedding this past Sunday.  My dress from David' Bridal had originally been ordered as an 18, I think, and they had to bring it down "more than 2 sizes".  It looked good even from afar, though my bat wing arms are still an issue.

In fact, I still can't wear a lot of fitted blouses in regular stores because my arms won't fit into them.  I'm considering brachioplasty, but honestly, not yet.


I am actually feeling skinnier, and noticing new kinds of people paying attention to me.  I'm not sure that I'm automatically thought of as "fat" anymore when I'm walking down the street, either, though I can't really be sure.  


So far, I'm happy and existing for the most part on routine.  I'm still drinking my protein bullet daily, giving me 42g of protein, and then having the Starbucks Fruit, Nut & Cheese plate at 19g of protein.  I literally consume these things every day which also makes living by the seat of my pants, and travel, a bit difficult.

The thing I'm the most not used to is my size -- I walk by the store Avenue on my way to work every day, and I realized today: there's nothing for me in there.

Not my Face

The feeling is still surreal, and I'm still not sure when I look in the mirror that I am looking at my own face.  Every fat girl has a layer of denial when she looks in the mirror in general.  A way of angling the face in the proper light to hide the double chin while applying foundation; it's the same manipulation used in posed photographs.  The tricks we use to make ourselves look "normal."

I remember dismay at seeing photographs that were unanticipated... shots caught unaware that were lacking any tricks, revealing my double chin and squinty eyes in all their fatty glory.  I chalked these pictures up to "bad photography" and moved on.

But I did secretly know that they were more accurate, and, in my inner mental image of myself, these images lingered like little pesky secrets.

These are secrets that I miss.  More and more, I'm having to double-take when catching my reflection in side car mirrors and reflective phone screens.  My face, an obvious constant in my life, seems, at least to me, more than subtly different.  My double chin seems missing in most shots, and I find that I am more comforted when I see it than when it's absent.  It compounds my awkwardness with what I perceive to be a "new me," not quite familiar but not really a stranger.

Will it only get worse as I continue to lose?

OMG! 219!

I thought that maybe the scale was off-balance this morning, but Noooooo!  I straightened it out and I am indeed under 220 pounds!!

220 was one of my self-imposed goals because it signifies not only the charade of my weight -- my driver's license has claimed I was 220 even though it wasn't true when the license was issued and certainly wasn't true afterward!

I was only ever 220 after over a year of living in Uganda, swimming every day, and imbibing most of my daily calories in cheap beer.  I know 200 is the big one for most people, but for me, getting bigger than 220 was the Fat Zone.  I felt sexy at 180.  Even at 200 I didn't look it, but creeping up past 220 began to really show.

So, now I am ecstatic!  I am dancing around, which only guarantees the burning of more calories.  

Slowly But Surely

I feel like I've been stalling a bit, and I have 220 in mind as a goal as much as I had 250 targeted last month.  Or was it the month before?  I guess I should be troubled that I don't even know!

I'm down to 221 as of this morning, so I've only got a LEETLE way to go to reach this goal, but the pounds certainly aren't coming off as quickly as they once were.  I get little echoes of hunger now and then too, but I'm more aware of my crankiness and blood sugar dropping than from actual emptiness of my tiny pouch.

I worry a little too because I can consume more -- yesterday I ate 1200 calories, and even though I'd worked out and been active, it was a bit worrying!! For dinner I was even able to eat all 6 of my avocado rolls (which had disturbingly NO protein) and some of my thai veggie dumplings, mostly because all were soft and easy to chew/swallow, and therefore easy to eat.

Despite feeling like I've been hovering in the 220s for the last month (literally), everyone is telling me that I look thinner and smaller, so maybe I am just readjusting.  I have been going to the gym at least twice a week, and I do feel a lot more active and peppy and motivated. 

But the struggle continues.  I do feel like I'm not "doing things right" or else it would be better reflected in my weight loss.  I do have an appointment with my surgeon next week, and I'll be pleased to tell him this time that I am GETTING my protein and taking all my vitamins!  I am still eating out at nearly every meal, but that is really more my lifestyle than some surreptitious lack of adherence to the rules.

I hope too that my newfound commitment will be reflected in my blood results, because I know my last ones are just going to be a disaster.  I still feel somehow like I've booched and that I'm not losing as fast as I'm supposed to be, but I just have to continue and keep going forward.  We'll see what happens!

New Beginnings in Size 16

Killian knows I've been taking all my vitamins every day now

So, there is nothing quite like being chastised by a man wearing a surgical cap.  And my doctor really did give me the hairy eyeball when I saw him last week.  I'd been eating mostly soup and soft foods, and not getting all of my vitamins, and basically being a chicken about putting things into my pouch.

Add in that my hair comes out in fistfuls because of my protein deficiency and I'm not being a good patient.  A lot of time surgeons are loathe to operate on "smart" people because they believe they've read all the literature and know everything and know better than the surgeon's instructions. 

How ashamed am I to admit that I have, essentially, been one of those people.  And in my own standard way, I refuse to complain about things over which I have control.  If I don't want to stall in my weight loss, and be tired and bald and vitamin deficient, then I need to change my damned attitude.

For the last week+, I have had a 42g Protein Bullet every day and taken ALL my vitamins.  That's two rounds (separated by several hours) of Multivitamin + Calcium Citrate, a Prilosec and a Polyiron.  I am actually seeing a difference in my energy levels, though my hair loss still feels pretty constant.

I am not dropping weight as fast as I did, but I am going to the gym and at least feeling like I am in control.  Which feels good.

I have also been doing something I promised myself I wouldn't: shopping.  I will be changing sizes so frequently it doesn't make sense, but I really needed new jeans since all of my current pairs just hang off me limply.  And while I was picking some out, I had a revelation.  I am a size 16 now.  I haven't fit into a 16 in probably 10 years, the closest being 2002 when I wore an 18.

Dresses, sure.  But jeans, never.  I am pear-shaped and needed the give down below.  But these jeans are a 16, and fit like a dream:

And that makes me feel great!!

Gah

I had a bit of a scary experience last night -- I needed only about 20g of protein for the day and Adam went out and got some sliced turkey from the bodega.

I only ate about 2 slices when I felt extremely queasy and sleepy.  And then ... well, I don't remember anything after that.

The next thing I remember is waking up with a ghastly wheeze, unable to breathe, followed by a 5 minute fit of coughing that resulted in spontaneous vomiting. 


Adam says that I passed out after the turkey eating, and I think I couldn't breathe because I was literally  choking on vomit.  I'm not really pleased about it, but I've managed to keep all my meals down thus far.

No more sliced turkey for me!!

3 Month Review

End of March 2010

Three months ago I looked like this.
I wasn't unhappy with myself, but I was unhappy with my physical appearance.  I was unhappy with the food choices I made, and not only inflicted on myself but on my fiancé.  I didn't think much about eating.  I just did it, freely, easily, when I was sad, when I was happy, and found a lot of joy and routine in it.

End of April 2010

This was me two months ago.  I threw up a lot, questioned myself constantly, and consistently failed to meet my diet and exercise goals.  The stress of trying to recover AND finish all of my schoolwork in my last semester nearly killed me.  I had very little energy, and ate even less than that.

This photo is me as of this morning.  3 months since I had a surgery that changed my life, and not in the cheesy Hallmark way.  My life is different in so many more aspects than eating right now.

Pros
*I have a LOT more energy.
*Especially in the bedroom
*I started working out last week and actually felt good at the gym, my hair swaying back and forth as I ran on the treadmill.
*I feel better in my clothing, and I was definitely more confident when I interviewed for a job this week
*People tell me I look thinner
*Eating all the time isn't on my mind. I like having more autonomy from food

Cons
*Keeping up with the vitamins, protein, etc is hard
*Going out to eat is HARD, especially now that I'm not supposed to have soups and soft foods. Probably moot since my surgeon discourages it anyway
*My hair is totally, completely falling out.  I wish I could say that I'm okay with it because I can just eat more protein and I'm in control, but as a woman, it is totally stressing me out.  Which I'm sure isn't helping.
*I don't have a new food routine yet.  I had been comfortable with soft and pureed foods for the last three months, but my surgeon is really upset with me for not transitioning to "real" food.  He actually said to me:

You are eating like a baby.  Maybe it is time to grow up!!

Gah! I'm feeling incredibly uncertain, and yes, because I'm "behind" in my weight loss (because though 50+ pounds in 3 months is amazing, for WLS patients, it's pretty slow), I do feel like I'm fucking up and not quite doing right and failing myself.

Yesterday, after having seen my doctor, I resolved to get back on the sticktoitiveness wagon.  Back not "trying" to take my vitamins and get in my protein but actually DOING it.  I can't promise I'll be cooking at home, but when I eat out I'll be ordering fish instead of soup.

If I can do that, then perhaps I can feel a little less crazy, lose a little less hair, and lose a lot more weight.

I'll update again soon with more detail, but I needed to at least get the basics out.

Here is the link to my last set of progress photos

Side view, not sucking in

Side view, sucking it in!

This photo shows me the biggest difference.  Where is my back fat?!

The Bald Bride

I lose a lot of hair, usually. The joke is that I shed hair wherever I go, and that the more time someone spends with me the more of my hair accrues on their person.

Especially in their buttcracks.  Don't ask.

But I've noticed this month that my hair is definitely falling out faster, and when I feel my hair on my head it feels less thick.  No, I have not been getting my protein minimums every day -- and the more days that elapse without me getting my 70g of protein mean more days of hair loss.

And I do tease friends for alleged hair loss, and I even want to tease myself a little.  Honestly, I am losing hair! I see it in the shower.  And on the floor.

I want to do better, and ingest better food. I discovered yesterday that babaganoush, which I love, has no protein in it. Why am I wasting belly space on such nonsense?

Equally frivolous is my carb consumption.  I was warned pre-surgery not to focus too much on them, but they're easy to eat!  And eating has become such a chore.  I hate eating! If I didn't have to do it I probably wouldn't.

This entry is boggled because I'm probably not eating enough, aside from cold bean soups in a can.  My body doesn't have enough protein, so even though I know that my period is coming, I'd imagine my body can't find enough protein to even make some blood to expel, so instead I am crazy and venting on this blog and not eating.

Enough for now.

Bikini This

Summer means bathing suit season.  For many fatties, this brings terror and outrage.  I've never actually had a lot of shame related to swimsuit season.  I LOVE swimming, the water, the pool, the beach -- anything in which I can be aquatic, and, essentially, weightless.

Maybe it's because I'm buoyant, and I know I've said it here before, but I am a great swimmer.  So, maybe for me, summertime meant reveling in a sporty activity that I could do without being athletic. 

This summer, in celebration of my life-altering decisions, I actually bought the pieces of a bikini, or maybe a few different bikinis if you mix and match, at Old Navy.  I also bought tankini-type tops so that I could choose my weapon based on my comfort level.  A bunch of friends and I had big plans to hit up a water park yesterday, so I sported the full bikini with a shirt over it, both to protect my modesty/comfort and also to protect me from the sun.  As a full-blooded Ginger, the day star and I have a long and sordid history.

When the water park turned out to be closed, we instead made our own park in our friend's backyard, and I figured, if it's just us friends, why not.

So I took off my overshirt.

I cannot stress enough how unfamiliar I am in Bikini Land.  I know lots of girls live (and shop) there, but I don't even have the visa in my passport. 

The picture above shows me that I was not completely smoking crack. But there are also pictures like this one that make me cringe and show me that I've still got a long way to go. 

It's a small triumph.  One of my guy friends tried to pick me up to drop me into the cold pool, and if I had let him, he probably could have.  But I am not yet that girl.  I may have worn a bikini in front of some of my close friends but I am still a fat girl in hiding.

More summer events are coming, though! We'll see what unfolds!!

Under 40 at 30

My BMI is officially under 40!  Our magical smart scale can't tell the difference between me and Adam.  So things on that front are excellent.

I took a bunch of photos at the lake house this last weekend, and for someone who is usually described as "photogenic" they were the ugliest fucking bunch of pictures of me I've ever seen.  I'm trying not to let it get to me, but it is slightly discouraging when you want to see your progress, visibly.

My friend John however did comment that it looked like I'd lost "a lot of weight," so maybe my ex doesn't notice, or my mother, or my father, but A+ for random friends.

There are still a number of people I haven't told, so I use the excuse that I am on a "special wedding diet."  This ridiculous piece of bullshit actually seems to work, so when for dinner on Saturday night I ate half a hot dog and half a turkey burger, no one said anything.  I'd hope that a "special diet" for anyone wouldn't be compromised of the measly amount that I eat.

Every year I swim across the lake to the beach, which is about a mile.  The water is a bit slimy, but not bad at all, and it's one of my favorite routines.  Every year someone thinks that they can do it too, because hell, if she can do it, so can I, right?  Funnily, though, all these athletic skinnies flounder and struggle about halfway across. 

This year was no different in that regard, but for my own swim, the regular ease I feel was replaced by an awkward discomfort.  Yes, I was still sore from the workout with Paul the Pain-Bringer on Thursday. But overall, I just felt weird and not like myself at all.  This feeling does seem to be a trend.

I still swam back with my friend's girlfriend, who brought a flotation device at my suggestion, and needed it about halfway through despite claiming she wouldn't.  She kept talking about "what a workout" the swim had been, and I tried not to laugh, because I'd had to slow down to wait for her more than once! Still, it was easier on the way back (maybe because I was going so slowly?) and I was glad for the exercise.

I'm no longer feeling sickly, but I do realize often that I am nowhere near my protein goals, often forget my afternoon vitamins and my evening iron.  I don't want to become anemic, and my energy levels are probably still not what they should be. It still feels a lot more workable now, though, and I'm looking forward to the next month!

And I still have to take my proper progress pictures!

A trip to the gym

What do you think is your athletic level?  One of the first questions asked to me this morning at Illegally Early Hours by my trainer at the Bally's gym in Silver Spring, MD.  On a scale of one to five ...

2 seems like a fair assessment.  But my strength?  I didn't hesitate to say "4"

There are some things that you consider to be fairly fixed, whether you're trying to change them or not.  I'm assuming that my body shape, thinner or leaner, will still not change.  I will still be pear-shaped, and it will still be okay.

But when you realize that the strength you once had seems gone?  It's slightly alarming.  And that's exactly what happened at the gym!  I got winded so easily, felt dizzy easily, and YES, I know I consume barely 500-600 calories daily but I really prided myself on my strength!

So it's something I need to work on.  But it was a great workout!

Learning a New Data Set

Of course every major activity in your life revolves around food. And, as I've celebrated my graduation with progressively more family members, every meeting is accompanied by a celebratory feast.

I've learned a lot in these very panic-inducing, public meals.  I think it could be considered a good side effect of the surgery that I now have anxiety when it comes to meals instead of excitement.

The worst thing, I've decided, at a sit down dinner is expectation.  Not your own, but everyone else's.  No one wants to have attention drawn to the fact that they're not really (or can't really) eat, so when I'll order a soup, and nothing but a soup, I still cringe as the waiter/waitress says "And that's all?"

When I first started going out to eat I would order an appetizer (soup, etc) and something else; either something small or something I knew I could eat a little of and then take home.  But it was really the expectation that killed me.  I couldn't justify eating NONE of my second dish, so I would try to take a bite or two and then throw up. 

Now I'm just ordering soup.  I take it nice and slow, and just try and finish the soup and that's it.  I've learned too that food order is important.  If I have soup, and then something else, it's okay.  But if I eat food and then soup, the soup will come up.  Having the endoscopy was actually really helpful in that regard, because visualizing my tiny, 8mm anastomosis when I am eating, and thinking about what will and won't fit through there makes eating easier.

So I'm throwing up less often as a result, but every day is a new learning experience. 

Discouragingly, I saw my dad and my ex, who both didn't notice that I'd lost any weight.  I definitely feel thinner now, and am swaying my hips a bit more as a result ;)

I also joined a gym today with my friend D and we're going to "test out" a trainer tomorrow at SIX AM.  (Bleugh)

We walked the whole way to the gym, though, about 1.5 miles, and then walked back too, all in the sunshine and in my fitflops.  I think the fact that I have the energy and motivation for such things is a good sign all on its own, and I'm really looking forward to pushing it and toning up during the summer!

Adam will take the 2 month photos of me once I'm back in NYC too, and I hope to see some real difference!

Nearly 2 Months Out!

My stomach is super swollen from vomiting

Well, at nearly two months out, I have to admit that I am finally starting to feel thinner, but my health and routine are still questionable.  I don't get all my vitamins in every day, or meet my protein quota, but the doctor's office was still worried about the fact that I was regularly throwing up.  So... they decided to do an endoscopy,  which involves sticking a camera down my gullet and peeking at my insides.

The endoscopy itself had relatively unpleasant prep -- I had to drink some clear numbing jell-o that had an AWFUL taste and even worse aftertaste, and for someone who is vomiting daily, the urge to vomit when something is gross and you're gagging is even tougher!! It didn't help either that it was followed up with a throat-numbing spray that was also bitter and awful, so starting a procedure that involves NOT gagging with excessive gagging and choking isn't the best. 

My stomach! Tiny and wild

But once they got the camera down me and the screen was up, I got so curious by the sight of my insides that I stopped caring about the huge tube shoved down my throat.  How interesting it was, too!  We discovered that I didn't have a stricture, thankfully. But my anastomosis, the hole between my teeny stomach and my intestines, is definitely a little tight.  It is currently only 8mm wide, which is about the width of a pen! Very small, so if I don't chew well enough or eat something too difficult or fibrous, it gets stuck, and BLLEEUUP! It all comes up!

My surgeon himself did the procedure, which was really nice because he's a busy man and it's difficult to get a lot of face time with him usually.  But afterward,  I did get a chance to talk to him about my concerns, and update him personally, which was really nice. 

Funnily, though my insides revolt against me and I am really barely eating at all, I'm feeling really good and actually smaller and more petite.  There was a point when I was first under 250 (over which is what I consider "fat" for me) that my brain just lit up and was like "Ooo! Thinner!!"  I'm noticing increased flexibility, like when I curl up on the couch.  Adam says the most noticeable difference is "in my neck" -- and seeing this random iPhone photo he took of me in Harris Teeter (while we were on vacation in NC) and I can actually see it.  But in this photo of me on the beach, while my face and neck look thinner, I look at that extended arm and I just cringe at the hideousness that is my arm fat.    But I never expected to end up with perfection, and I'd imagine that there will always be something for me to harp on and find to be unacceptable.  Isn't that just part of being a girl?

My neck does look SORT of skinny here

I felt happy with this, until I saw my arm on the left

Comfortable kayaking

On our vacation I did feel more comfortable.  I actually wore some little sweatshorts OUTSIDE the HOUSE and didn't feel like a monstrous creation.  I never had an issue with doing activities like some other heavy people, but I did feel less self-conscious when we went kayaking.  I got into and out of the kayak myself without trouble or embarrassment, and if you see from the picture, my side of the canoe isn't the more sunken (though I do still weigh slightly more than he does). 

More comfortable but still flabby

I'm down over 35 pounds now, but I do still feel like a bit of a fraud.  Finding things to eat is SO difficult, and every time I try something new so that I can mix it up and stave off boredom, I really end up the worse for it.  On vacation, I did manage to head to the grocery store and get some great freshly-made soups that I'd eat a cup of for each meal.

But when I can't plan ahead, I really just fail.  I got a grilled cheese sandwich at Five Guys, since I can have cheese and toast just fine, but MAN was it a mistake. 

Continually pear-shaped

So new food does end up coming up, and working on the fly, which used to be my specialty, just doesn't work.  I still need to figure out a routine that's going to work for me, too.  I'm still not getting enough protein, either, but at least it's not a disgusting experience for me. I am also feeling much more full of energy, and my sex drive came back, and though I haven't started exercising, I feel like I probably could.

I have this plan that this summer I'll start playing tennis and working out with my friend Dani in Maryland, and the prospect of it is exciting.  I just wish I had a better hold on consistency. I still have bouts of food-inspired nausea, sleepiness or random sickness after eating -- but I don't ever know WHEN it's going to happen and it does tend to mess up my day-to-day plans.

Regardless, my weight loss and the arrival of summer, swimming, and all of the happiness that sunshine brings me makes me feel full of hope and promise!

Making Due

I've been friends with Fred for 15 years, and so I wasn't about to miss his 29th birthday party last night.  But there is always an element of anxiety to eating out -- will I be able to find something to eat?  Will I be able to keep food down in public?

The introduction of solid foods has had mixed results for me -- the panic of not getting enough protein often makes me push it and eat until I regurgitate, but I'm slowly learning to just take it easy.  Yesterday I actually held down my whole lunch, and ate 2 part-skim mozzarella cheese sticks, 6 Carr Table Water crackers and 1/3rd of a cup of seedless cucumber.  For me, it was a HUGE lunch!

So I came into dinner feeling positive.  Since Sambucca is a family-style restaurant, the portions are huge and everyone is expected to share.  That was reassuring, but I decided to order a side of sausage and a side of broccoli rabe - two things I could most likely eat.  Man, was there a LOT of food.  Everyone except me and the birthday boy was drinking, but it didn't feel awkward and I didn't miss it.  Two of the people at the dinner didn't know about my surgery either, but I think I wouldn't have even needed to tell them.  We got a Caprese Salad for the table (tomato & mozzarella) and I managed to eat half my cheese & tomato and it tasted SO good.  I could feel the signs of fullness, so I stopped eating despite the delicious taste ... right away. 

I was already a bit full by the time the rest of the food came, but I wanted to try and get my protein in.  I had tiny pieces of the chicken and salmon dishes we'd ordered.  I had 3 slices of sausage, and maybe one piece of the broccoli and then I really knew that I was done.   I didn't clean my plate, or scramble for protein.  I just left my food there.  It felt great.


Fred got a fantastic birthday dessert, but I didn't even want any, even though it looked good!  It was tough not having any more water, too, because the restaurant was really warm and the sausage had been a bit spicy!  But I held out, and about 1.5 hours later at Fred's apartment, I drank some cold water and it felt great.

Adam said later that he was so proud of me for handling the restaurant so well: not only for keeping everything down, but for finding things to eat, knowing my limits, eating slowly, and choosing my foods carefully.  I was a bit amazed too, really. 

Not only did I feel good about my food choices, even though my whole dinner was really only 11g of protein when it really needed to be more like 20 (whoops), but Fred said that my weight loss was really noticeable.

In my last entry here, I was really depressed because it didn't look like there was any difference between my current before & after pictures.  But in the photos we took at Fred's apartment, I really did see a difference, not only in my face and neck and shoulders, but in my body as well.
Additionally, I wore a dress I'd bought pre-surgery.  It's an 18, and it had been SO tight that I actually busted the zipper when I was moving around in it last time I wore it.  The zipper repaired, it actually felt loose and comfortable last night... of course, the bust area was loose to which caused a bit of a scandal while sitting!

But from all angles in all pictures from last night, I did look legitimately thinner, and that makes me feel a lot better!

Protein Here, Protein There

Protein Everywhere!?!?

I finally found a protein supplement that doesn't make me hurl or give me anaphylaxis!  The funny part being that I am supposed to be weaning myself off protein supplements and getting my protein from normal food.  But I figure, for posterity and for any others who are having trouble with protein milkshakes -- that I'd include it here.

They're called Protein Bullets, and I found out about them from someone on my Weight Loss Surgery LJ Community -- I buy the lemon-lime flavor and I mix it with Diet Lemon Snapple Iced Tea.  About half a bullet (21g of protein) mixes in really well and is barely detectable.  While I can put a whole bullet in, the flavor is pretty questionable.  But overall, something I can drink, that tastes good, and that doesn't make me feel like I'm suffering.  Honestly, nothing is worse than being forced to drink something that is yucky.

But yes, I reached my 4 week mark this past Monday, April 26th and I told the NP about my vomiting, but she didn't seem too concerned.  The nutritionist that was supposed to call me to schedule allergy tests after my anaphylaxis and didn't didn't seem very sorry or worried either, instead chiding me for my one-time consumption of turkey bacon.  You know what?  When I'm dying for protein, my body is craving it and I can keep it down, sometimes you just gotta do what you've gotta do.

They did advance me to Stage III diet, wherein I'm supposed to start incorporating more solid foods into my diet, and some carbs.  Thus far I've had 1.5 saltines and a piece of wheat toast.  Not stellar progress, but I am having a love affair with cheese.

Cheese is the perfect food.  I loved cheesed before the surgery, and it continues to taste and smell and BE spectacular.   Per ounce, it has comparable protein to meat or chicken or fish (about 6-7 grams) yet it is smooth and creamy and actually stays in my belly without wanting to escape 5-10 minutes after consumption.

Yes, I know it's high in fat, but I can't eat cheese all the time, can I?

In all seriousness, stage III is an attempt to start introducing post-WLS people to "real" food -- real living, actually creating a feasible working and eating lifestyle that they can consume, manage, and stay healthy on. And I continue to document everything I eat, so I'm not too worried about going cheese-crazy.

And yes, I am documenting my foods very closely.  On a good day, I consume about 500 calories a day.  I'm supposed to get up to 1000 but I'm not very sure how likely that will be.  I focus much more heavily on getting my requisite protein in, because being sick and going bald are really not my ideas of a good time.

I am also still throwing up, though I guess I can say that it's to a lesser extent since I haven't thrown up every day of the last 7.  I've eaten at a few restaurants -- I usually order a soup and then steal a piece of chicken off of Adam's plate.

Successes: Tom Yum soup at a Vietnamese place
                  Tawa Chicken at an Indian place


Failures:    Chicken Kebob at a "natural"place






Thus far, the vomiting isn't consistent enough for me to chart a pattern, but I could certainly live without the fear of public vomiting.  Meats are tough.

Flavor has become KEY.  The Tom Yum soup was like HEAVEN, mostly because it was spicy, but not too spicy, and was savory, and had a multitude of flavors to delight me as I sipped it slowly.  I got down HALF a bowl and was tickled the whole time.  My tastebuds have definitely changed. 

As one might see from the Ticker on the right, I am also now down 26 pounds.  I know that for 30 days, it's amazing, but I had really really wanted to be below 250 pounds since the last time I remember feeling thin I was under 250.  My thinnest in the last 10 years is 220 (after living in Uganda and swimming every day) and I'm excited but part of me is also worried that I'm doing something wrong and should be losing more.

What's more, not any of my friends have commented on my looking thinner.  I know I already carried my weight well.  No one knew how fat I really was.  Sometimes I'd gain weight and people would tell me I looked thinner.

But now that I'm suffering, I want that validation of feeling and looking thinner.  I vacillate daily on whether or not I feel thinner. Adam tells me I look thinner.  But he's obviously biased.   He took photos of me the day before my surgery, but wouldn't let me look at them until now.  Then we did photos today to show some progress.  I fear posting them to the internet, but here they are.

               Before                                                                        One Month After

Even now, looking at them, I don't feel like I can see much of a difference.  If anything, in the side shots I'm almost positive I'm sucking in the first photos but I've been sucking in in photos for so many years that it's a hard habit to break. I guess my legs look a little less cottage cheesy, but that could also just be the lighting. Maybe in my face. But even then, questionable. To be fair, 26 pounds is less than 10% of my total body weight (well, not anymore) so it's unfair for me to expect HUGE progress to be so easily visible. 

There is also the issue of hibernation and working out, and now that I am not feeling like death warmed up on most occasions it is really necessary for me to start working out.  I've got my little apartment trampoline, but my Wii Fit board is having left-side issues that I think herald its imminent replacement.

Either way, I will continue to plod ahead.

A Hell of a Weekend

Last weekend of week three -- and all I'm getting is WEAK^3! 

A bunch of the ladies on my WLS community suggested that I was eating food a little too advanced for my stage II diet, so I've scaled back today and yesterday to mostly cottage cheese and tunafish again.  I did find an AWESOME site to replace Fitday.com, which doesn't seem to have upgraded at all since I first started using it in the 90s.  Plus, no iPhone app?  Boo! Remembering everything you eat later in the evening is noooo fun. 

It's called The Daily Burn, and not only does it know 99% of foods out there (as opposed to FitDay where every other thing you consume ends up having to be a Custom Food) but it has TWO bitchin' iPhone apps, one that scans barcodes and adds food automatically, and another that just gives you the skinny on your progress to date. 

These are the good things.


THIS is the bad thing

 
Now that I know how little protein I was getting, I've been resolving to take the bull by the horns and get up to that 70g a day if it kills me.  And it nearly did!

At our last trip to GNC, Adam and I bought this stuff called Liquid Morph that has 45g of protein in just about 3 ounces.  Considering that that's more than half of my daily requirement, it seemed like a good call.   Of course it's sold at GNC and it shaped like a penis.  The whole thing is ridiculous.

I'd had it twice before -- and while it tasted like crap, I had no adverse reactions. This last time, however, was a different story.

After drinking an ounce, I felt this weird cold tingling in my stomach.  I had resolved to keep it down, and just drink the remaining ounce slowly, but I started to feel flushed.  My face started to redden, like... actually redden (as opposed to the Standard Ginger Pink) and the EMS guys later told me it was basically the color of the cap of the Liquid Morph.  My heart rate was elevated, I started to sweat, feel woozy, and my hands and arms and legs, also red, started to tingle and jitter. 

Adam had been at the bodega getting a sandwich, and I realized after 5 minutes of difficulty breathing, as my face and body kept getting redder, tinglier and hotter, that something was really wrong.  Bless the cellphone: I called him and he canceled his sandwich and came running home. 

When he got here, I was in a bad way and we decided that I should go to the hospital.  When I went into the bathroom to put in clothes, however, I nearly passed out, so Adam lay me on the floor and called 911.  It was horribly scary -- I was heaving for breath, things were swimming in front of my eyes and I just felt like I was getting hotter and hotter.

I resisted having an ambulance come at first, trying to insist on taking a taxi but by the time I was able to pull myself off the bathroom floor the ambulance was already here. 

In fact, TWO ambulances were here, because only one kind of paramedic team is allowed to deal with anaphylaxis and they were running behind the first team.

They gave me oxygen and "tried" to take my blood (and exploded my vein in the process) and injected me with Benadryl, but decided that I still really needed to go into the hospital.  It had taken a good five minutes on the oxygen to even be able to take good, solid breaths and I was still extremely red and tingly.

We brought in the Liquid Morph for testing, and they put it at the bottom of my stretcher.  Terrible, considering its shape -- I got weird looks from almost everyone I was wheeled by, all of whom were probably convinced that I'd had some sort of dildo-related accident. 

The hours at the hospital just go by in a blur on Benadryl.  I fell asleep on the stretcher, of course woken a million times for various tests, but they're still not sure what sparked the reaction. 

I will obviously not be taking any more Liquid Morph, but it is scary to not know what caused my near-anaphylaxis so that I can avoid it in the future.


Worse, my feelings of weakness post-surgery are compounding: I never used to get sick, I never had trouble with food, I never had the ambulance come to take me away.  This feeling of frail ineptitude -- "Hey, sorry I couldn't finish your paper -- I spent a day in the hospital!"

... NOT GOOD.

I can only hope week 4 brings improvement.

End of Week Three

I certainly feel perkier than I did last week -- but the resounding feeling is still how difficult day-to-day going is.  I'm so tired of thinking about it, because every meal is a struggle.  Last night I ate edamame for dinner -- about 25 of them -- and however good they tasted they still came up.  I tried to relax in the bathtub, and Adam had to bring the trashcan over for me.

How... humiliating.

Throwing up seems to be my theme for this week.  Since Tuesday, a day hasn't gone by where I've been able to keep everything down.  I'm really struggling to keep on schedule with my vitamins and my protein shakes and everything else -- yesterday was a total wash.  Once I have other things "to do" in my mind the likelihood that I'll remember to drink every hour goes down pretty steeply.

I've developed this paranoia about throwing up in public, so sometimes, if I'm on campus and it's 5 hours since my last meal, I just won't eat just in case.  That's probably not very good.

While in week 1 the relief of regurgitating was the biggest feeling after I did it, not being able to hold down food this week feels a lot more discouraging.  I'm more than halfway through week three, and I should be on more "solid" ground.

Even worse, I question my priorities in the healing process when, after throwing up dinner on Wednesday night (swordfish), I had to pick myself up off the bathroom floor and go to class. 

I still managed to get a lot done yesterday, but overall, I feel like, since the surgery, that I have twice as much on my plate (haha, I may not be full of food but I am full of bad puns). 

And it's exhausting.  I can only hope that week 4 will be better.  Plus, I need to start exercising!

Post-Surgery, Week Two Overview

I'm almost incredulous that tomorrow begins my third week -- and slowly but surely, I'm getting back on my feet.

Despite time having flown by, I'm still wobbly and don't handle eating very well.  When I eat, getting food down is so difficult.  I'm always thirsty, but I'm still limited to 4 ounces every hour.  Protein shakes are probably my biggest issue; I don't know if milk is the problem, or whether it's the sugar content in Skim Milk Plus, but while I've finally found a protein shake that doesn't taste awful, I've yet to consume it without feeling sick and dizzy afterward.

What I find amazing is that I'm still not hungry, nor do I feel deprived, but my "good hours" each day are still a lot fewer than I need.  I'm behind in my schoolwork, and I'm worried about its impact on my graduation.

A lot of people I've talked to tell me to be easier on myself, since I just had major surgery, but it's hard to even realize that I've had "major surgery"

My incisions are nearly gone entirely -- they could be mistaken for cat scratches!

More photos from  pre & post-surgery

These are supposed to be the "most serious" incisions, yet really, they are like pimples! It makes me realize how quickly time is passing!

Post-Surgery, Weeks 1-2

Who decides what kind of body type you get?  All my life I've been pretending like I'm one of those girls who can eat whatever she wants and still be fit, though I've never been and never will be.  The math isn't as simple as they make it out to be.  Even when I ate what I wanted, I never ate as much as I was fat. 


All of these ideas rush through my head as I begin "solid" foods this week -- moving on from an all-liquid diet to soft or pureed foods. No one looking at me would know that I'm ingesting probably a max of 200 calories a day -- but slowly and surely, it is taking its effect.

When I went to the doctor this past Monday, I had lost nearly 17 pounds.  In 7 days.  It is a bit mind-boggling, but what's funny is that it has no longer become my ultimate focus.  At this same doctor's appointment, I got flushed, sweaty, and nearly passed out.

As I lay on an examination table in an adjoining room, in front of the air conditioner and limp against the papered table, tears rolled down my face.  I was filled with doubt -- who ever said that this was going to be so hard?


The traditional ideals of "hard" when one thinks of this surgery have to do with the food restriction.  Yesterday, I ate 3 tbs of cottage cheese, a quarter of a cup of turkey ragu and 2 oz of cod ... for the whole day.  But I didn't feel hungry, or deprived, or starved.  In fact, it felt like a lot of food.

What's more difficult is the increasing distance from myself.  I have always been a hearty, robust, girl. Never weak, rarely sick, always independent.

Looking at this girl now -- crying, dizzy, barely able to make it through a class for 1.5 hours -- I can't imagine what went wrong.  The automatic assumption is that something DID go wrong - but no, my surgery went fine, and apparently, my symptoms are "normal."  I have to make sure to get out a little bit every day, work my muscles, and avoid Hibernation Syndrome.   But however normal these feelings are, they are still so difficult to combat when you've got stuff to do! I'm trying to finish my thesis, get my other homework finished, make sure I'm getting enough ounces in everyday, writing everything down, getting out of bed -- god, it's fucking EXHAUSTING.

Add in some discomfort and constipation, and it feels like a clusterfuck.  I spent at least four hours on the toilet yesterday, and when I finally succeeded, after much screaming and pain, I had this feeling like I'd been given a preview of childbirth.

There is also this feeling like, despite having read tons of literature ahead of time, there are certain things I feel like should have been outlined more clearly.  Constipation and coagulated blood down there, for one.  But really, telling people that they "might be depressed" after surgery does not encompass the PERVASIVE NATURE of hibernation.  Everything is not roses, or puppies, or sunshine.

It is cottage cheese, and reflux, and straining, and sweatiness, and discomfort.  I'm only hoping it will get better, or that the amassed weightloss at week 2 or 3 or 4 will feel like a balance to my stress and pain.

But until then, more sleep, as I creep forward, slowly, slowly.

Home again, home again, jiggity jig

I had this whole entry in my head that I meant to write -- all about the surreality of lying in the hospital bed, and feeling like yourself, and yet being different on the inside.  Or how being home makes you wonder if it all ever happened ... that is, until you wake up in the morning and poop blood!

I do have lots of things to say, but I just took a Vicodin because I am in a lot of pain! In the interim, enjoy some photos:

Video Blogging -- Video One

What is the cost of thin?

My surgery date is scheduled for Monday, March 29th, which is currently less than 2 days away.  Sitting at home today, I can't help but think about the repercussions, not only to my body, but to my life.

What do you see when you look into the mirror?  What is it that defines you?  Is it your hair, your face, your body?  Certain things are so easy to take for granted.

Most pressing in my brain -- how much does what you look like on the outside impact how you are on the inside?  I've enjoyed the periphery awarded me from never being traditionally attractive or thin.  There's a cheesy South Park episode about people who aren't perceived as "attractive" building better character, but I can't say that for me, it didn't.

It did present me with some elements of loneliness, and frustration from rejection, but at the same time, I was better able to slowly become comfortable with myself and find my strengths without just relying on my looks.  I'm not what I've viewed as the typical fat girl.  I don't let myself become couched in shame.  I wear what I want to wear.  I am fat and sassy.

But fat isn't the new black.  It may be more "popular" in that more people ARE fat, but if anything, it's become more acceptable to penalize the fat because no other groups are allowed to be ostracized anymore.  It's simultaneously subtle and not -- think of all of the television shows, or movies, where the fatness IS the joke.  "Ha ha, her panties are big."  "Hahaha.  He eats a lot."   Should it be such a surprise that the world is saved by a Big Fat Panda?  There shouldn't be anything we can't do.

I'm not the fat girl whose never been able to fly because she can't fit in the seat.  I can actually buy certain clothes in regular stores, though it is sometimes a bit of a squeeze.  There has never been an occasion where my weight has impeded me.  I take pride in that.  I also realize that I've been very lucky.  I can wear rings, necklaces, bracelets.  These are some things that others can't do.

It's for these reasons that I've rallied, independently, against this overbearing social construct that Fat is Bad/Unhealthy.  Fat doesn't automatically equal diabetes.  Or high blood pressure.  Or high cholesterol.  As a fat person with none of these things, I felt strong as an exception to the rule. 

As I sit, pondering what this will mean for the rest of my life.  Even moreso, what my having surgery means as a reflection on fathood.  By having surgery, am I acknowledging that my weight is something wrong that needs to be fixed? 

And, if it doesn't, what exactly am I giving up to obtain the "ideal" of thin?  What do you see in the mirror?  I see my face, my eyes, and my hair.  How will these things change?

My hair is one of my favorite things; wild and red, it's as much a defining characteristic of me as my weight to outsiders.  After WLS surgery, it's quite common to lose hair.  How much depends a lot on my protein intake, but it has to be a consequence I'm comfortable with.  I might still be me without my big ass, but am I still me without my big hair?

My face will change too -- though I can't imagine looking worse with a thinner face.

The most important change that I worry about is to my innards.  Because, more than anything else, despite being fat, I am really, really happy.  I used to resent people saying that I "look happy" because I presumed it to be some sort of subtle dig at my weight - FAT PEOPLE ARE JOLLY!!  But I am happy.   I love my friends.  They love me, regardless of size.  There are elements of everyone's lives that aren't perfect, but really, day-to-day, I can only wait for the next smile or hint of excitement.

Adam is my greatest source of joy, and we've developed a comfort and rapport and intense trust that I don't want to change. 

I'm on a precipice.  With any large change, there is always a compromise.  I will never be able to eat certain foods again.  Liquor is pretty much out of the question if I want to stay healthy and keep the weight off.  These pieces of my daily data set will have to change, and it is totally natural as a result that certain relationships -- with friends, with food, with Adam -- will have to change too. 

Attention must be paid.  This surgery isn't just about being thinner.  Good and bad, I must accept that it is a whole life change.  I can only hope that, at the end of a day, or a year, or my life, that I can say it was worth it. 

Keeping Up

You know when you have a blog entry that you want to write, so you open up a window, and think about it and ponder it, and then just don't write it?  That's been me, and every once in a while I'll switch over to the tab, and remember that I have things that I want to say, but realize that it's just a LOT and I get overwhelmed and switch away from the tab again.  So here I am, on a snow-filled New York City evening, taking the time to quickly chronicle my journey with weight loss surgery up to this point.

I'm just that much closer to getting insurance approval, firstly.  I had my abdominal ultrasound two weeks ago, to check and make sure my liver wasn't huge since it'd be a real impediment to surgery.  Aside from being incredibly early in the morning, it wasn't that bad. They use warm gel, and just take a lot of photos. 

The more difficult thing was my psychological evaluation.  There was a bit of a lengthy online questionnaire, but the more difficult part was the 2 hour consultation with the psychologist.  I always find that it's difficult to open up, and to be expected to tell someone who is a relative stranger all of your secrets is a lot to ask of anyone.

What was difficult especially was the real attention to paid to the causes of my weight gain.  Sure,  I might sometimes be compulsive, but I am apparently a binge eater.  I couldn't deny it, but certainly hearing it makes me worry for my future after surgery.  It's something I've since been eyeballing ... how much I eat in a sitting, how far past hunger I am when I continue to eat. 

They're all things that I need to expound on, but for now, sleep.

Food Grief

I might have started last week well, but some outside circumstances seem to have derailed me already.  I'm hoping to lose 8 pounds by March, and at this rate, I'll never make it!

I'm examining my food choices carefully, but at this point it's more to document them rather than change them.  Between the first chapter of my thesis being due last Friday, and the countless edits to a journal article I'm collaborating on, and a houseguest, I really just ate LIKE a PIG.  Stress makes me eat.  Not hungry, just eating.

And the grief I've been feeling over the death of two people close to me is manifesting in what I perceive to be comfort food: cheesy, sandwich/burger-type warm happy foods. 

These aren't foods that I will malabsorb later, like sugars, so despite my stomach being smaller after surgery I will have to address these eating habits.  Fifteen years out, there is an alleged 80% recidivism rate in WLS patients, and while that includes lots of people who weren't as serious before the surgery as I am now, it also includes people who succeed the first two years and fell back into their old eating habits once their stomachs stretched. 

Grief is definitely something that pushes me towards food comfort.  My motivation to work out and eat right is hampered by emotions, and I'm sure the lack of noticeable results.  While I will have results after the surgery, it is still so important for me to address emotional eating if I want to have long-term success.  How important is it to me, to have food to comfort myself?  What are my alternatives?  It will have to be my job in the next few months to find some.

Food, Fitness, First!

As part of the requirements for insurance approval for the surgery, I have to attend this thing at St. Luke's called Food, Fitness, First. In addition to being weighed, which is obviously every fatty's favorite hobby, we had every fatty's second favorite hobby: exercise.

I actually exercise willingly and frequently, but it did seem a bit cruel as Lady Gaga blared in the background and we waved our flabby arms in the air.   I actually did better than most of the people there -- my aerobic level is pretty high, even when I'm not wearing a sports bra and my breasts are flapping around and my jeans are falling down and flashing all the other fatties in the room my red heart-speckled thong panties.

That felt good, to offset the fact that, according to St. Luke's scale, I had gained nearly two pounds since I was last at their offices.  Jarring, especially, since, according to the Wii Fit, I had LOST two pounds!  Another reason that you should really not be weighing yourself daily.

Honestly, though, since I decided on getting the surgery, the two pounds didn't affect me as much as it might have a couple of months ago, when it would have been overwhelmingly discouraging.  I feel more "sure" of progress now, and yes, I know all about the work I will have to do post-op.  But overall, my hard work will be more likely to pay off.

Frustratingly, a big part of the lecture was about Fast Food, and healthy options if you INSIST on eating at places like Taco Bell, Wendy's, McDonald's, etc.  I'm sure that these restaurants have made people fat, but the reverse is not also true -- being fat doesn't mean you eat at these places.  I don't! I'm fat because I eat past the point of hunger, traditionally haven't exercised, and yes, , because of genetics .  My parents were both fat, and in addition to giving me fat-prone genes, we used to order Chinese food every night at 10pm and I had to "clean my plate".  Even after the surgery, I will have to combat these bad patterns.  And exercise! 

Speaking of which, this past Monday, Adam and I both resumed our Wii Fit routines.  In typical gender-bias, since our last workouts in December I had gained 5 pounds, and Adam had only gained 1.  We're pretty sure our Wii Fit board is a bit broken, since the left side is always unhappy, but it does feel good to be back on the wagon.

On Friday, I'll have my Abdominal Ultrasound (another prerequisite of surgery) to determine the size of my liver and whether it will complicate surgery.  No boozing it up before then!!

I've got my 2nd consultation with the doctor scheduled, too, as well as my Psych Evaluation. It'll be difficult to feel "graded" based on my responses about weight questions, but I don't think I'll have any trouble being frank about it! Hehe.

With two more months of Food, Fitness, First, I'm looking at a late March/April surgery date.  So, fingers crossed!!

A New Beginning, with a different finishing goal in sight

A big part of myself self-defines as "fat."

And it's not entirely a negative association.  I've been lucky to not have any of the "co-morbidities" of obesity -- hypertension, diabetes, high cholesterol, sleep apnea -- which perhaps has made it seem less serious. 

I still feel enabled (as opposed to disabled) -- I can walk miles without stopping, and run for the bus without huffing and puffing.  I can trek through the jungle.  For my thesis, I DID!

But it hasn't meant that I've been blind to the negative sides.  Shopping, while still fun, is always difficult.  The fat from my arms often prohibits me from wearing many fitted shirts, jackets, and dresses.  The disparity of size between my upper half and my lower half makes this "interesting" -- absolutely disallows certain looks, and really helps with others.  Many people who are my size long for the days when they can fit into a 16 -- or a Large -- item.  If it's cut A-line, I can do it no problem.

For these reasons especially, I've been able to hide my shame, and my true size for years.  No one would believe how much I weigh, and I've convinced my mother for years, who is also obese but weighs less than me, that I weigh 200 pounds.  And she believes me.

The reality is far worse.  I weigh 270 pounds.

I weigh too much to go skydiving.  For many amusement park attractions, I am too fat.  "One size fits all" usually goes up to 250 pounds.  For someone who never says "no" and is always keen to try a new adventure, there are many adventures that are no longer an option for me at this weight.

Aside from this journal, and even scarier are my recent attempts to lose weight and their failures.  I may not have blogged it, but for 3.5 months last year, I worked out daily, walked nearly five miles during the course of each day, and restricted myself to a 1500-calorie/day diet.

Want to know how much weight I lost?

None.  In fact, if I deviated from day-to-day, I gained weight.  And this failure ... is a symptom of PCOS. I haven't seen my OB-GYN about it, but I have fears, that are of course exacerbated by the "truths" of the internet.

Combined with my dad's late-onset Type II diabetes, it becomes imperative that I work towards no longer being self-defined as "fat."

This past month, I've begun preliminary stages for gastric bypass surgery.  It's no "quick fix" or "easy out" -- it will be a lifelong change, and a difficult one. But it's scary.  Not because it's a surgery, but because it will change me, and my self-definitions will also have to change.

My fiancé loves my ass -- will it disappear?  How will I manage the necessary change in my relationship with food, and emotional eating? 

I also don't intend on telling most of my friends.  I have selected about 3 extremely close friends that I have told, along with my mentor at University.  But will I be forced to tell people eventually? I don't want to Star Jones it.

I guess I've never seen my obesity as something that needed to be "fixed," but by acknowledging surgery, I am also admitting that I am trying to "fix" it.   I am really just trying to improve myself: Improve my health, self-esteem, and make positive changes for my future.   And blogging about it here!  For reals.