Salted With Shadows

FINALLY

2011-03-01T11:45:00.000-08:00

I have had no time to blog--still don't, I'm posting this covertly from my temp job but...this morning I *finally* saw a number below 200. I think it was 199.8 or something, but still, it was BELOW 200 for the first time since I was IN MY TWENTIES.

On a related note, I was shopping at TJ Maxx with one of my friends Sunday and found a cute dress I could afford that not only fit, but looked great on me and did not come from the plus section. That hasn't happened since my twenties, either.

I'm a little verklempt.

Shrinking feet

2011-02-13T14:11:00.000-08:00

I've lost 100 pounds now, and my feet have definitively shrunk. I used to wear a size 9 shoe, mostly due to my foot's width--my feet are short and fat, just like the rest of me. I now wear a size 8, average width. I can still handle wearing an 8.5 shoe comfortably, but wearing a 9 makes me feel like I'm clomping around with a kayak strapped to each foot. I thought my beloved Chucks and Vans collection contained more 8.5s, but alas, twelve pairs of them turned out to be 9s. (Four aren't pictured here. I've sold three pairs to friends already and can't bear to part with one pair of my size-9 Chucks because I love them so much--at least until I find a smaller replacement.) It took me years to collect these and I love them all. It's hard to let them go.

This collection is going to force me to enter the world of selling on Ebay rather than just buying. People will pay $20-30 for a pair of Chucks in this condition on Ebay. I just think it's weird that my feet shrunk. In high school, I wore a 7.5 shoe; I wonder if my feet will get that small again? That would be weird. I have a bunch of Birkenstocks I haven't even looked at yet--oy. That may be the next bunch I have to shuffle around.

The cat in the photo is one of my three--the elder statesman, Nunzio Motorboat. He loves hiding in the closet and probably the collective smell of these shoes, and it may be my imagination, but I think he looks a little alarmed in this picture.

I've been having a ball on Ebay buying smaller shoes. I haven't limited myself to Chucks and Vans, just fun sneakers. A lot of people buy things they never wear and sell them for cheap. Last night I won a fun pair that are turquoise with Boston Terriers on them.

It's only a number...

2011-02-12T14:58:00.000-08:00

...so there is no number. I love my socks. :)

Saturday 9: I Saw it on TV

2011-02-12T14:47:00.000-08:00

1. What new TV show rocks your world this year?

I loved "Terriers" and it got canceled. I like "Mike and Molly", and "Hot in Cleveland" is fun.

2. What is your least favorite ethnic food, and what makes it your least favorite?

Thai. Peanut sauce, curry, just the smells alone are disgusting...as for the taste, I don't do spicy.

3. When does liking someone a lot become loving that person?

It just does; I know when it does, it's a feeling.

4. Is there a job you would do for free, and is it your current job?

I do photography for free a lot, and no, it isn't. :)

5. What is one person/thing that inspired you to take action of some sort?

My dearly departed best friend inspired me to leave a relationship that was extremely toxic to me. I will always be grateful to him for that.

6. Though you might not believe in it, would you like fate to exist?

Sure; much like God, Jesus, Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, it's a nice idea.

7. Tell us about a news story that truly shocked you.

It happens quite often. People who are held prisoner and tortured/deprived for years and years and years are right up there.

8. What's something you're looking forward to?
Continuing to live. Everything.

9. What characteristics do you despise?

Weakness, ignorance, lack of compassion, lack of humor, closed-mindedness.

18 months out!

2011-02-09T07:36:00.000-08:00

I had my 18-month appointments last week, and everything is going well. It was a little surreal. My bloodwork numbers were awesome. I still haven't gotten below 200 pounds yet, which is somewhat frustrating; the scale has reflected every number and fraction between 205 and 200.9 in the last month. My nutritionist said, "It's only a number, remember how far you've come. Think about your progress." The surgeon had the same types of things to say, and it was a little surreal, hearing these kinds of phrases from several medical professionals all in the space of one day: "You're healthy." "You look good." "You're doing everything right." I had to keep shaking my head to remind myself it was real. (Where were these people when I weighed 150 twenty-five years ago and the doctors were all up in my grill? When I was torturing myself and being tortured about my weight all through my teen years? I can't even think about it very long or I go bonkers.)

I'm taking the supplements, I'm swimming, and I'm looking forward to getting plastic surgery. (not getting it per se, but the final result) I will probably try and get it when my temp job ends, working around any other job I may get and also my school schedule. It's amazing to feel this good and love silly things like buying clothes on Ebay. A lot of women my age could care less about that stuff and it does seem frivolous when you're 42, but you know what? I don't have kids so I'm not depriving anyone else, and I never got to feel young and pretty, whether I was or not. I didn't get to enjoy being young, period. (Frankly, being 'young' was hell for me.) I'm not going to apologize for feeling younger and better than I've ever felt, or wanting to do 'young' things at midlife, cause I think it's amazing! It's this amazing GIFT that I've been given, but also one I feel that I've earned. I have worked for it and will have to continue to work for it, and it is so very worth it.

Mind...boggling.

2011-01-28T17:25:00.000-08:00

Puttering around before my new job starts on Tuesday, I'm getting some calls made and trying to get over a cold that decided to appear at the eleventh hour. Imagine my shock when someone from the surgical center calls today and tells me that our health insurance actually has provisions to cover panniculectomy and abdominoplasty, or, the procedures that may help to modify my appearance and make me more comfortable.

Panniculectomy is a procedure designed to remove fatty tissue and excess skin, or panniculus, from the lower to middle portions of the abdomen.
Abdominoplasty is a procedure involving the removal of excess abdominal skin and fat with or without tightening lax anterior abdominal wall muscles and with or without repositioning or reconstruction of the navel.

Thought I'd throw the definitions in there.

The insurance company wants weight to be stable for six months, BMI to be in the 30 range, bariatric post-op patients to be at least 18 months out, and for there to be other documented issues such as skin issues, interference with daily activities and where the skin hangs. (This last may require a photo taken by the doctor's office. Whoopee!) Liposuction is considered cosmetic, but then, so is removal of the skin so that the patient's back doesn't hurt.

I can't take time off to get anything medical done until my new job is over, and I am deeply skeptical of anything being easy, so until then I will remain...cautiously hopeful.

"Heavy", etc.

2011-01-27T16:28:00.000-08:00

I found a temp job through tax season helping a local CPA, which I'm very grateful for; it will get me off unemployment for a couple of months and possibly allow me to learn Quickbooks. I start next week. It's the only call I've had an interview since November. I would also like to go visit my grandmother for a few days when the job ends.

I was watching the most recent episode of "Heavy" on A&E yesterday and it made me think, mostly for navel-gazing reasons. Bariatric surgery is never, ever mentioned on this show; I am wondering if they are trying to keep it out of the equation altogether because of its controversial nature--there are still so many people who think "it's the easy way out" or "it's not the right way to do things". (These same people don't seem to get that those who have bariatric surgery have to make all the same lifestyle changes and stick to them or they don't lose weight and keep it off, either. Part of me doesn't want to delete this blog just because I get so sick of these and other similar biases.

The two episodes of "Heavy" I've seen have both focused on two subjects per episode--one man and one woman. The woman in the most recent episode started out at about my beginning weight, but our body types were completely different. They cleared her to have the surgery for excess skin removal after she lost 50 pounds. Mr. Salted was watching with me, and I said, "See? It's the same as me!" She looked absolutely awesome afterward. At the end of her six months, she was about fifteen or so pounds more than I am now, but she looked fantastic and planned to join the police academy. I wondered if she looked so much better because of the body type difference (she is more of a pear where I am more of an apple)--or she could have been taller than I am, too. I have to have long shirts to cover my stomach, which always carries the danger of looking sloppy--it makes it really hard to find a decent blazer and look presentable for a job interview, and for any other occasion where I have to dress up in general.

So far, I'm still liking this show. It shows the real struggle: the pain people are in, the trying to relearn how to eat, how those around you can sabotage you, how you can sabotage yourself.

(An aside: during the holiday season this year, it was as though almost everyone we knew completely forgot about my dietary restrictions--we even had people mail us baked goods as gifts. Only two people, both women who have always been supportive, said, "I didn't offer you guys any of my cookies because I know you don't want them in the house," for which I thanked them profusely. For everyone else, it was as though the surgery and the struggle was just over and done with. I was more disappointed than angry. People just don't get it.)

Plans re: plastic surgery

2011-01-24T08:33:00.000-08:00

I wasn't real clear on how I planned to proceed when it came to the plastic surgery. I'm going to get a medical necessity letter from both the surgical center and my primary care physician. The surgeon said the best-case scenario is that insurance may (very big may) pay for a tuck/skin removal of the lower abdomen, but not the upper abdomen. If the two are done separately--and they can be--that would require two procedures and could result in more scarring, weird skin lumps and bumps, etc. There are worse things; (a) I'm not a model, and (b) if I can get insurance to pay for any of this, of course, that's the route I will take because it makes the most sense financially. I hate to think of incurring more debt. However, if we end up having to private pay the $9K, it would eliminate the hospital stay and include the liposuction, body sculpting, etc. (Mr. Salted's reaction almost made me weep. I said "nine thousand" and he didn't even blink. "We can do that," he said. "We'll find a way. It's like a car loan. We knew this would happen. You're worth it, you know." ??????)

I know insurance will cover the breast reduction--I have all that documentation--and I can take care of that at some point when this is all done. The stomach is bothering me a lot more.

Interesting day

2011-01-21T17:50:00.000-08:00

This morning, I interviewed for the aforementioned temporary receptionist job. I think the interview went well, but I've had interviews go well and haven't gotten the job before. It's not my dream job, but I could definitely do it for a couple of months, which is how long the assignment would last. It's more money than unemployment, and I could go back on unemployment when it ended if I hadn't found something else by then.

This afternoon, I had my plastic surgery consultation. It occurred to me that there was a striking similarity between the two experiences: both required me to be naked (literally or figuratively) in front of a stranger who had something I need. I can't say I liked the feeling either time; and frankly, I think the plastic surgery consultation made me more nervous than the interview, maybe because it required actual physical nudity. The surgeon is from the same center that did my bariatric procedure.

It's a good thing I'm so dissociated from my body. I didn't get drawn on with a Sharpie--I guess they only do that on TV--but there was some of "if we do this, then this will be gone" while he lifted things and looked at things. "Wow, you will love it when this is gone," he said, "you won't believe how much it will improve your mobility." We talked about recovery times and insurance and what if they pay for this and not that. He commended me for my progress thus far and was very upbeat and positive. He only handles the stomach stuff--someone else would have to do the breast reduction. He said he could remove five liters from my abdominal area. Five liters as in two two-liter bottles of soda and then a one-liter bottle and what that would weigh. Insert gasp here. Private pay including liposuction and body sculpting mojo with upper and lower abdomen included: $9,000.

Sigh.

But it would be so amazing to not have that appendage hanging off the front of me that ruins the way I look.

Plateau

2011-01-18T09:53:00.000-08:00

I am almost afraid to say it...but I think I'm off it! I saw 202 the other day, which is the lowest weight I've seen yet. I'm waiting, with bated breath, to see a number that starts with 1.

I've been trying to remember when I last saw a number that started with 1. I thought my age also started with 1 the last time I saw a number on the scale that started with 1, but I was wrong. I remember weighing 186 when I was 23 and was maid of honor in my friend's wedding. I remember this (for some stupid reason) because we were the same weight at the time. 23 years old--that's almost TWENTY years ago.

I read somewhere that people who lose a lot of weight tend to experience some of the same emotional stuff they experienced when they were that weight previously. It makes me wonder. I have been in such a funk. Unemployment doesn't help. I've sent out at least fifty resumes. In response, I've had one rejection letter. Yesterday I got excited because I got a callback, but it was just a screening call--they'll call me back if they want an interview. And this is for a temporary receptionist job. Sigh. The holidays were a total loss because I had an epic migraine and was sick for a week and then Mr. Salted was sick and he's still trying to shake whatever it was, and I'm just getting over another migraine.

My first winter quarter class starts tonight--last week's was pushed back a week due to snow. Hopefully being back in class will make me feel less like a waste of space.

"Heavy"--new show on A&E

2011-01-18T09:35:00.000-08:00

I watched this with some trepidation and was pleasantly surprised by what I saw. I had to watch, wanting to see how the issue was handled.

There are going to be people who watch it and freak out: "How did they let themselves get so big?" and "Oh my God, fat people are just so disgusting." That's par for the course. I thought the show was quite good, better than I expected (the first episode aired last night). Both people were likable--they had their issues and owned them; they were shown struggling but making progress, falling and getting back up again.

I'm sure this show, like "Intervention" (I am a fan of that show as well), will be good sometimes and not as good other times. You simply root for some people more than others. I actually liked the trainers on this show, which was a surprise. They were real, but compassionate. It was nice to see a buffed-out trainer offering his shoulder to a man over 600 pounds who couldn't walk for more than half an hour at a time; to the camera later, buffed-out trainer remarked, "Imagine if you had to walk up a hill with a refrigerator on your back; that's what this guy has to do every day." Not all personal trainers are meant to work with obese people, obviously, and this show found two that are. (The one I had certainly wasn't! I had to laugh; the female subject of this first "Heavy" episode said, "No fat person wants to work with a personal trainer who has never been fat." Preach it, sister!) The trainers were full of praise for a job well done; they knew how to motivate and really took the time to get to know the people as individuals.

The premise of the show is to follow the people for six months. The first thirty days, the folks go to a facility where they are monitored and trained and isolated from everything. The next five months, they go home and take the tools that they use. If they gain weight, they go back to the facility.

A nutritionist went to the store with them and taught them how to shop. They dealt with things in their personal lives; one gal asked her mother to move out of her house, and how to deal with unsupportive people was addressed.

I will be interested to see how this show progresses and is received.

Once upon a time...

2011-01-01T19:46:00.000-08:00

...I used to write in this blog. I knew it had been a while, but somehow three months went by.

I'm still going to school, and I was let go from my job at Voldemort.com. They imposed a production quota, I couldn't make it. Neither could a whole bunch of other people. Whatever. The whole experience was a big letdown, even for a job I knew was temporary.

I didn't disappear from Blog World because I've been slacking off--quite the opposite. I'm plugging away at the swimming and the protein and the rest of it, all the bloodwork numbers are improving, I'm becoming more toned, my sizes are getting smaller (albeit at a glacial pace), and...I'm not losing any weight. This plateau has lasted many, many months. The nurse-practitioner who I see for the Berkeley Heart Labs has me on phentermine (they took phen-fen off the market, removed the bad fen, kept the good fen, what does it spell? PHENtermine!) temporarily to get me off the plateau. I've been on it a month. Not losing. Grrrrrr.

I went to a neurologist about my migraines and he has me off caffeine and aspartame and on magnesium and Topamax, which has improved them quite a bit.

I am seeing a plastic surgeon for a free consultation in a couple of weeks. Though my two-year surgiversary isn't until August of 2011, I know I will have to fight insurance for months and why not lay the groundwork now while I have all this free time? (I would get a tummy tuck tomorrow if I could get it paid for.)

I'm trying to decide whether to delete this blog or not. I still might. I don't feel like I have much to say anymore.

Another job

2010-10-03T14:46:00.000-07:00

Right now, I am working full time, going to school, and swimming laps three times a week. It feels like there is a lot on my plate. School seems really intense because the classes tend to meet only 2-5 times, but for 3-8 hours each time and sometimes after I've already worked a full day. I have had to get up at the crack of dawn every weekend day to get a good lap swim time. (I'm resisting the 5 AM swims on weekdays, but I might have to try those out, too, just to see what works best with everything else I have scheduled.) I'm trying out different Y facilities and different times to see what works the best with my other obligations, but those super-early weekend mornings have been the times when I could have my own lane and of course, those are the best swims. I had a great swim today--a lane all to myself for fifty full minutes. I can't do a flip turn, but starting today, I decided to never let my feet touch the bottom of the pool and at least grab the side and push off and keep going at the end of every lap. It definitely kicked the workout up a notch. Thus far, I remain the fattest person in the pool every time and I watch many wheels turn when I can swim faster or longer than many others who are present--and frankly, I'm starting to get a kick out of it, unless it's one of those jerks that look at me like I smell bad (and funny thing, those jerks are never the ones who drag their happy asses out of bed for the early-morning sessions). The staffer who opened the facility door this morning said, "Good morning, folks! I see all the SERIOUS people are here." It was just a joke, but one that made me feel really good.

What seems to be helping me stick to my routine isn't only the financial consideration of the Y dues being auto-deducted as I wrote about last time, but the fact that I think of this as another job--something I have to schedule in three times every week, no matter where I have to drive or what time I have to go.

My weight is changing in fractions of pounds, but not by much at all. I am trying not to focus on this, and I am still in the frustrating stage where my skin is getting looser and the skin on my stomach is preventing me from wearing smaller pants. The loose-skin-creeping-down-the-thighs thing is still happening too and really sticks in my craw. Swimming is great because of the toning aspect, so I'm glad it's my exercise of choice, but having ugly loose skin where I didn't even seem to have excess fat before is *really* damn annoying. I think about plastic surgery all the time and then I feel shallow for thinking about it all the time. I even think about having it on my eye bags and then I feel incredibly shallow and vain for thinking about it. I was telling a friend of mine about this the other day and I said, "I don't know why I keep harping on it. It isn't going to make me young."

"Is it really about being young?" he asked.

"No," I responded, "it's about me not feeling repulsive." The depth of honesty in that response surprised even me. (And that's what it IS about.) This amazing discussion followed about how I had always felt like people only tolerated the way I looked because I was a good person (and then I don't feel like a good person some of the time, either). I own just how incredibly screwed up that sounds--because it is. (It's not fun to feel it, either, believe me.) I have hunches where it all originated--I've read things, I've had therapy. One of my friends is convinced I have body dysmorphic disorder, but it goes far beyond body image and weight--when I feel sick/vulnerable, I feel ugly. I blogged about it at some length in "Compliments" (September 2009). It would be nice not to care about all that or have it be a factor or even a passing thought, but I do and it is. All I can do is keep going and, I guess, cut myself slack for unnecessary mental gymnastics. If only they burned calories.

Swimming

2010-09-14T18:59:00.001-07:00

I have discovered something about myself: when YMCA dues are auto-deducted from my checking account, I am much more driven to go to the pool regularly. I'm paying either way, right? Today I felt a little queasy and was really close to bagging it, and then I thought: "Stop it, it's an excuse. If you still don't feel well, you can stop swimming and leave." I have this tool (the surgery), which I am damn lucky to have; I have a limited window of time for initial weight loss following it; and the best part of all--when I swim, I feel amazing.

I'm feeling this determination that shocks even me, but I'm not sure why; I've always known how to work and been tenacious. (There is a reason I adore bulldogs!) The fact is, I'm there to do a job and it gets done: I swim for fifty minutes. Sometimes there is a kids' swim team or a family with masks and fins who can barely dog paddle or someone who can do impressive flip turns even though they appear to be in their fifties. Sometimes it's early in the morning and I crash Mr. Salted's car into the cement post next to the gas pump before I even get to the pool (yes, this really happened two weeks ago). I just share the lane and keep going. I look at the clock a lot. Fifty minutes. It's a long time. I don't start getting tired until about forty minutes.

Every time I go, it gets easier to move, to breathe. As I glide through the water, loose skin doesn't matter, fat rolls don't matter, middle age doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that I've never been to Europe, that I'll never be a rock star or a grandmother, that I'm still trying to pay off my student loans at almost 42 years old. No matter how I look in my bathing suit out of the pool, in it I feel weightless and graceful.

To date, I have always been the largest person there. I'm not thrilled about the way I look, but I accept it. I know I look the best I can at this point in time, and I look better than I have in many years, mostly because I'm happier. I care much more about how I feel.

In the locker room today, I felt like I could see the struggles of every woman there. I was the heaviest, but some were older, some looked exhausted or tentative, and one beautiful young lady was weighing herself wearing only a towel and glaring at the number on the scale like it was her worst enemy. I thought: I have been every one of you and felt full again, this time with compassion. We all have our obstacles and our journeys. The only person I have never been is the friendly elderly woman who loves to swim and is smiling simply because she woke up today, but becoming her is another goal I can set for the future.

Words to live by

2010-09-14T18:57:00.001-07:00

Sunday Stealing: The Majorly Personal Meme, Part One

2010-09-06T20:52:00.000-07:00

1. Are you happier now than you were five months ago?

Yes.

2. Have you ever slept in the same bed with anyone that you shouldn't have?

Haven't we all? :)

3. Can you sleep in total darkness?

Not really.

4. Your phone is ringing. It’s the person you fell hardest for, the one who got away, what do you say?

There is no such person, and even if there was--I screen my calls. ;)

5. What do you think about the weather this summer?

A lot of people have complained about it, but I'm not fond of hot weather, so I'm good with it.

6. How many people do you trust with everything?

Truthfully? Zero.

7. What was the last thing you drank?

Diet Snapple Trop-A-Rocka--I am totally addicted to it and really hope they make it a permanent flavor.

8. Is there anyone you want to come see you?

I'd rather go see them--there are several!

9. Name one thing you love about winter?

Being under many blankets, with or without Mr. Salted and a cat or two.

10. Have you ever dated a Goth?

No, but I've been one.

11. What are you looking forward to tomorrow?

Getting a Jamba Juice in the morning.

12. Name something you dislike about the day you’re having?

The fact that I don't have more energy.

13. What's the longest that you have committed to one person and one person only?

Five years. I am hoping to improve on that!

14. What’s the first thing you did when you opened your eyes today?

Got up and took a Claritin.

15. Has anyone ever told you they never want to ever lose you?

Several.

16. Is there anybody that you wish you could fix your relationship with?

Not really. I'm at a place of acceptance with who that person is.

17. Could you go out in public, looking like you do now?

Yeah. My motto is "if you don't like it, don't look".

18. Do you think things will change in the next 3 months? How?

I'm just going to keep losing weight and feeling better :)

19. Do you believe that you never know what you got until you lose it?

At times, though I think that is more a symptom of being young (or just immature, or at the very least, untested). I think you can figure it out if you pay attention along the way, but ultimately, a great deal of life is about dealing with loss and learning from it. I think it was Dr. Seuss who said, "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." Whoever said it, they are wise words.

20. Do you have a friend of the opposite sex you can talk to?

Several.

It's been a year since surgery.

2010-08-29T05:42:00.000-07:00

As the tumbleweeds continue to dance through this blog, I knew it had been a while but I didn't realize I hadn't posted at all in the month of August--and it is September in a couple of days. This summer got away from me in a big way. I finally got off swing shift about a month ago, and that helped everything immensely. I learned not to take two classes simultaneously and work full-time, because I wasn't effective anywhere. Mr. Salted and I both got sick and couldn't get over it--we are both still hacking a bit, weeks later--and I had a couple of migraines to boot. It's been the longest period of Just Getting Through the Day that I've had in many years, and I can't say that I care for it too much. But things are on the definite upswing.

As the year anniversary of the surgery approached, I was starting to shut down. With everything else going on in my life, it definitely wasn't my primary focus as it had been, though I was still following the basic rules. I got incredibly anxious when it came time for the follow-up appointments, since my weight hadn't changed between the 9- and 12-month mark. In fact, it went up a pound or two. On swing shift, I went up eight pounds almost overnight; when I went back on day shift, I immediately lost five or six of it without any behavior change, lending credibility to all those studies out there now that inadequate and poor quality sleep causes weight gain. Before my appointments, I couldn't sleep for days, thinking the nutritionist and doctors were going to yell at me and feeling like a failure because of that one or two pounds. I also still hadn't found time to start working out.

The appointments all went incredibly well, so I worried for nothing. My bloodwork is stupendously healthy. The Simcor (20 mg simvastatin, 500 mg niacin) lowered my cholesterol considerably. I have lost 80 pounds since surgery, 100 pounds since my highest weight. My surgeon could not have been kinder or more encouraging. Sitting and talking with him, I was again reminded by his passion for what he does, and moved by it as well. He was training a physician's assistant I had not previously met who is an absolute doll--she made me feel better before he even got there.

My weight hovers around the 205-210 range, and my 18-month surgery anniversary is in February. The surgeon wants me to try to lose 20-25 pounds by then and to ultimately shoot for 180 pounds. (That is what I weighed when I graduated high school. It's funny how I remember what weights I've been by the age or period of my life I was in at the time.) He said how much I lose will depend on how hard I work (duh) but both of us agree I probably cannot get much below 180 pounds without cosmetic surgery to at least remove the excess skin. While this may sound discouraging to some, I really appreciated the realistic approach. He talked about the absurdity of the old weight charts--how they would have just looked at my height and determine I should weigh between 120 and 140. (I joked that my skeleton weighs more than that, and he laughed like he had never heard that before.) Basically, he reiterated that I am doing what I am supposed to be, I am about where he would want me to be, and reinforced the message that the first year had been a complete success. I thought the fact that I was not working out yet would be the biggest bugaboo, but he even managed to turn that into a positive. "This is the perfect time to start," he said. "You aren't going to lose any more weight unless you do. It's a great motivator."

Yes. Yes, it is.

A few days later, I joined the YMCA. I paid slightly more for a membership that allows me to use any Y in three adjacent counties. I have been swimming three times a week, and it feels great. I hadn't swam since before I had lasik in 2007, and it's great to both see what I'm doing and feel how much more easily I move through the water. The first couple of times I swam for 40 straight minutes, but within a week I was shooting for 50. I don't try to go super fast the whole time, only to keep going. Breaststroke is the easiest for me, and I concentrate on a gentle, strong, consistent movement. (I discovered that flutter kick still hurts my ankle a little.) The first couple of times I went, I felt like the lifeguard was looking at me like I was about to stroke out. Other people remain the most annoying part of any workout for me--particularly people that act like the pool is their own personal possession and are visibly annoyed that someone new is there. Of course, I encountered the most obnoxious person to date on my first time going. In the past, that might have driven me out of that pool. Now I say to myself: "My money is worth just as much as yours, I paid just like you to be here, and you're not going to get in the way of my goals". I just keep swimming.

(My grandmother turned 90 recently and I asked her if she thought she would make it to 90. "I never gave it much thought," she said. "You just kept going?" I asked. "Yeah," she replied. "Just kept going.")

My weight still hasn't changed since I started swimming; I was warned that loss happens much more slowly now. Stuff is still shifting around, though, so I know muscle is being built. I went down another cup size, and some of my jeans are 16s now--a size I haven't worn since high school! The hardest part of it all is my skin getting looser. I can fit everything but my stomach into a lot smaller clothes, and if that apron (that's what I call it) wasn't there, I could wear very different clothes, too. I try not to focus on that, but sometimes it gets to me. I am going to want it surgically corrected ASAP.

I am still not small by any means, but I definitely feel that the world perceives me differently. I am sure some of this is because I am projecting more confidence and positivity, but the world remains unabashedly shallow. Men, in particular, are a damn sight nicer. I get a lot more smiles, doors opened, and conversation in general; sometimes (more often than I can even believe) I even get checked out. While I enjoy that (I cannot tell a lie!), it also sticks in my craw a little. I am the same person I always was--kind, funny and smart, no matter what I weighed. The idea that a person, particularly a female person, has to fall within the parameters of looking a certain way in order to receive basic acknowledgment as a human being will never be okay with me. 100 pounds lighter, I am still too large for many to acknowledge. I find myself caring a lot more about my appearance, dressing better--I even started bleaching my teeth (something I've wanted to do for years, and I finally found a dentist with a reasonably priced option for doing it).

I resolve to keep fighting the good fight, and I resolve to post more often! I am leaving for the pool in about half an hour.

One of many reasons I don't find personal trainers effective

2010-07-25T14:53:00.000-07:00

I Write Like...

2010-07-20T20:49:00.000-07:00

I write like
Mary Shelley

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

Perfection, from Offbeat Mama's blog

2010-07-20T20:42:00.000-07:00

Conscious eating

2010-07-14T11:24:00.000-07:00

I have been doggedly trying to practice this the past few days. Drinking more liquids rather than eating every time I get the notion. Asking myself, "Are you REALLY hungry or would drinking something fill you up?" (Sometimes, drinking something IS enough--I just have to be aware.) This morning I danced around for fifteen minutes while I watched TV to get my heart beating. I'm also trying to think more positive thoughts--how much I've lost already, how much better I feel.

My shift is supposed to change to days next week, and I really hope it does. I'm averaging maybe four hours of sleep a night. I've been researching pools and health clubs where I might be able to go, and have found a couple of options.

I've discovered that I really love Bret Michaels' diet Snapple flavor that he created on "Celebrity Apprentice"--it's called Bret's Blend Tea, Trop-A-Rocka. Goofy as that name is, I hope they keep making it; I usually don't like the tea flavors, and it's hard to find diet Snapple in anything else.

I also discovered my stomach is happier when I have Jamba Juice swap out the juice and completely substitute it with the Splenda low-cal dairy base so that all my drinks are made of is that and fruit. Pomegranate and mango combos seem to be the mildest.

If only bad habits could be edited

2010-07-11T16:53:00.000-07:00

I'm taking a professional editing class--it's part of the Technical Writing Certificate I'm working toward in my spare (cough) time. The final project assignment is to edit a piece of writing that's 5-10 pages long, using the different levels of editing we're learning about, etc., etc. It's hard to find pieces of writing on the web that it's okay (read: legal) to edit, so we were steered toward Wikipedia for sources.

I looked up some random stuff I thought I might be able to write about, like 'shabby chic', and there wasn't enough text (or enough interest on my part to make it a final project). Then, a light bulb went on (must have been the Rockstar I just finished--wink wink) and I thought, "I'll look up 'gastric bypass surgery'!" I cut and pasted the whole kit and caboodle into Word and it came up as 17 pages, so even with the random white space where the graphics would have gone, it should be plenty long enough when all is said and done. I emailed my instructor with a couple of questions and now await his reply. Some stuff in the article jumped out at me.

"The long-term mortality rate of gastric bypass patients has been shown to be reduced by up to 40%;however, complications are common and surgery-related death occurs within one month in 2% of patients."

I knew this; in fact, I actually thought the surgery-related death statistic was higher. I think it may have gone down in the 12 or so years I've been reading about it; initially I had the impression that 1 in 4 patients died pretty quickly following surgery, which was one of the reasons I initially refused to get it. I tell people they should know the worst-case scenario(s) and be able to accept them before they undergo bariatric surgery.

"The Consensus Panel of the National Institutes of Health (NIH) recommended the following criteria for consideration of bariatric surgery, including gastric bypass procedures:
1. People who have a body mass index (BMI) of 40 or higher. Or,
2. People with a BMI of 35 or higher with one or more related comorbid conditions.
The Consensus Panel also emphasized the necessity of multidisciplinary care of the bariatric surgical patient, by a team of physicians and therapists, to manage associated co-morbidities, nutrition, physical activity, behavior and psychological needs. The surgical procedure is best regarded as a tool which enables the patient to alter lifestyle and eating habits, and to achieve effective and permanent management of their obesity and eating behavior."

That's what they've been telling me. Tool. It's easier said than done sometimes, but it's the most useful way to think of the surgery.

"In 2004, a Consensus Conference was sponsored by the American Society for Bariatric Surgery (ASBS), which updated the evidence and the conclusions of the NIH panel. This Conference, composed of physicians and scientists of many disciplines, both surgical and non-surgical, reached several conclusions, amongst which were:
• Bariatric surgery is the most effective treatment for morbid obesity
• Gastric bypass is one of four types of operations for morbid obesity.
• Laparoscopic surgery is equally effective and as safe as open surgery.
• Patients should undergo comprehensive pre-operative evaluation, and have multi-disciplinary support, for optimum outcome."

Okay. I agree with this, and it's what I'm getting.

"The gastric bypass, in its various forms, accounts for a large majority of the bariatric surgical procedures performed. It is estimated that 200,000 such operations were performed in the United States in 2008. An increasing number of these operations are now performed by limited access techniques, termed "laparoscopy".

Laparoscopic surgery is performed using several small incisions, or ports, one of which conveys a surgical telescope connected to a video camera, and others permit access of specialized operating instruments. The surgeon actually views his operation on a video screen. The method is also called limited access surgery, reflecting both the limitation on handling and feeling tissues, and also the limited resolution and two-dimensionality of the video image. With experience, a skilled laparoscopic surgeon can perform most procedures as expeditiously as with an open incision—with the option of using an incision should the need arise."

My surgery was laproscopic. I had that unusually thick abdominal wall problem, but my incision scars are almost invisible already, not even a year out.

"The gastric bypass procedure consists in essence of: creation of a small, (15–30 mL/1–2 tbsp) thumb-sized pouch from the upper stomach, accompanied by bypass of the remaining stomach (about 400 mL and variable)."

Wow, that's tiny.

"The gastric bypass reduces the size of the stomach by well over 90%. A normal stomach can stretch, sometimes to over 1000 ml, while the pouch of the gastric bypass may be 15 ml in size. The Gastric Bypass pouch is usually formed from the part of the stomach which is least susceptible to stretching. That, and its small original size, prevents any significant long-term change in pouch volume. What does change, over time, is the size of the connection between stomach and bowel, and the ability of the small bowel to hold a greater volume of food. Over time, the functional capacity of the pouch increases; by that time, weight loss has occurred, and the increased capacity serves to allow maintenance of a lower body weight.
When the patient ingests just a small amount of food, the first response is a stretching of the wall of the stomach pouch, stimulating nerves which tell the brain that the stomach is full."

What I heard was that a 'normal' stomach can stretch to the size of a football. (An example like that is easier for me to visualize.)

"In almost every case where weight gain occurs late after surgery, capacity for a meal has not greatly increased. The cause of regaining weight is eating between meals, usually high-caloric snack foods. There is no known operation which can completely counteract the adverse effects of destructive eating behavior."

This is the part that hit me where I lived, particularly the last sentence--because I know how very true it is and live it every day, sometimes much to my own chagrin. It's just another way to say, "This surgery isn't a magic wand"--which is, of course, what I've been saying (and learning, literally) all along.

There were more interesting little factoids on Wikipedia's gastric bypass surgery page, such as that post-surgical folk absorb alcohol faster and take longer to get sober (which would seem logical). The statistics were also kind of fun:

-65-80% of excess body weight is typically lost post-op;
-High cholesterol is corrected over 70% of the time (I'm in the remaining 30%, lucky me);
-Type II diabetes is resolved in over 90% of cases, sometimes within days of surgery (this did happen, yay);
-Sleep apnea is often cured, though no statistic is given;
-acid reflux and joint pain are often gone quickly, although no statistic is given.

The article does stress the importance of having a support system in place due to the psychological ramifications of this surgery. I would definitely, definitely concur.

Energy drinks: pro or con?

2010-07-11T13:03:00.000-07:00

Almost every time I am drinking an energy drink, or talk about drinking an energy drink, someone says, "Oh, they're so bad for you." Well, everything is bad for you, isn't it? (she groused with no attempt to hide her irritability) I mean, life is going to kill us all at some point. In all seriousness, though, I haven't researched them except in terms of deciding which ones I like the taste of--and I only drink sugar-free, of course. I also have never drunk more than one in a day, nor would I--especially not prior to a workout.

I'm not particularly fond of Red Bull, though it is okay as a drink mixer and most places seem to have some sugar-free behind the bar. NOS has been my favorite thus far in terms of taste (despite the fact that it is the official energy drink of NASCAR, which did give me pause)--it's more citrus-y than the others--but I have had a hard time finding it in sugar-free, or at all. I heard that Wal-Mart recently pulled NOS from store shelves for causing heart palpitations in someone somewhere, but I would also be willing to bet that the person/those people pounded several of them beforehand, and that it may or may not have been the same person who sued McDonald's because they spilled some coffee on themselves and found out (shock! horror! disbelief!) that it was hot.

My happy medium for energy drinks seems to be Rockstar, which can be acquired by the case at Costco for the cheapest price I've seen, and can be found in sugar-free just about everywhere.

Yes, it has a lot of caffeine--80 mg in a 16-oz. can--but want/need for caffeine is usually why one drinks one of these, isn't it? There are 0 carbs and 20 calories in said can, which also contains 200% of the RDA for Vitamin B2, 100% of the RDA for Vitamins B3, B5, B6 and B12, as well as taurine, ginseng, guarana, ginkgo, L-carnitine, and a few other things of that ilk that are said to be beneficial to one's overall health.

If dairy and/or coffee are hard on one's stomach, I guess I don't see the harm in energy drinks. They are "lightly carbonated" as opposed to the full carbonation of soda, which is preferable for post-WLS folk. There is no aspartame (at least not in the sugar-free Rockstar can I have next to me as I type this). I'm going to have to talk to my nutritionist next time around and see what the big deal is.

Saturday 9: Go Your Own Way

2010-07-11T12:56:00.000-07:00

1. When was the last time you were told to go your own way?

I always go my own way. I've been doing it for so long I don't remember.

2. What one experience has strengthened your character the most so far?

My divorce and its surrounding circumstances.

3. What's your favorite thing to do on a rainy day?

Read under the covers, perhaps with a cat or two nearby.

4. How long can you go without your cell phone?

Forever. I really only have it for emergencies on road trips and the like.

5. Do you wish you were somewhere else right now?

Yes. Always. I'd love to be on the Oregon coast or on a cruise ship with Mr. Salted.

6. Of all the people you've ever known, who have you most feared?

In the end--myself.

7. Do people tell you that you look your age?

I got carded for alcohol until I turned 41. Now I feel like I'm aging at warp speed.

8. Your ex shows up randomly at your house, what do you say?

Did your car break down?

9. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

Not everyone. As the Shinedown song says, "Sometimes goodbye is a second chance."

Sugar's revenge

2010-07-08T00:42:00.000-07:00

I am feeling somewhat the worse for wear this evening/really early morning (swing shift and all). The temperatures were in the low 90s here today, and I'm not sure I believe in hell--but if there is one, I know why it's purported to be hot. High temperatures are nowhere near as miserable as they were 91-give-or-take pounds ago, but summer will never, ever be my favorite season. I'm as pale as it gets, generally light-sensitive, and far too much shaving of the body is required for everyday societal acceptance. A season where you can drink hot tea and put more clothes on, with overcast skies that never exacerbate a headache--that's a season I can get behind. But I digress.

As I've noted here before--somewhat ruefully--I have had much more adverse reactions to fried and fatty foods since surgery than I have to foods containing sugar, and the latter foods are much more my bugaboo. ("I can take or leave sweets," some people say. I don't envy many people, but I envy those people. A lot.)

I believe the culprit for tonight's stomachache was, ironically, sugarless gummy bears--I must have eaten too many of them. I believe they are sweetened with maltitol and most anyone who's ever eaten sugar free candy knows better than to overindulge, weight-loss surgery folks or otherwise, because the end result is unpleasant. (It could have also been the fact that there was some sugar in my Jamba Juice, some in my protein bar, some in my protein shake, and it all swirled together to become a miniature cyclone of gastrointestinal discomfort.)

As the kids say, I've been schooled.

In about a month, I will be a year out and I'm feeling somewhat discouraged. My weight has been in the 208-210 range lately and that number is going the wrong way. Clothes are still getting smaller, so maybe the weight is still being redistributed, but I've got to get out of this rut.

Tired

2010-07-02T11:24:00.000-07:00

I am not intentionally ignoring the blog...I have had nothing to say lately. Full-time swing shift has me much more sleep-deprived than usual, and I can't seem to acclimate even though it's been a month--and allegedly, we will be going on day shift in less time than that. (I can hardly wait.) The sleep I do get is sporadic and not of good quality, so I am feeling barely taped together. I feel out of sync with the rest of the world, almost exclusively communicating with Mr. Salted via notes and text messages. Since we actually like each other, this sucks. I miss him. I am relying on caffeine a lot more than I'm comfortable with, and I had a screamer migraine a week ago that forced me to leave work halfway through my shift. I was down with said migraine all last weekend.

My weight isn't doing anything in particular. I am trying not to succumb to temptation and succeeding probably 2/3 of the time. I guess I am discouraged to some extent, but mostly, I am just tired.

Berkeley HeartLab results

2010-06-23T11:44:00.000-07:00

My Berkeley HeartLab test results came back and I met with the ARNP to go over them. Basically, the conclusion was that my high cholesterol is likely genetic, and that I fall into the group of people whose cholesterol can be lowered by statin drugs. This group of people is at higher risk for heart disease and heart attack, but the other group--the group whose cholesterol doesn't respond to statin drugs--while at much lower risk for heart issues, can have them develop or happen out of nowhere. Another issue (only identifiable with a test like the Berkeley) has to do with the size of the blood particles the body produces to fight the bad cholesterol. I happen to be a person who produces smaller particles than usual, so that is something else that will have to be factored into my diet and treatment regimen.

Niacin on its own has failed to improve my numbers, but it tends to increase the particle size, so the ARNP and I struck a compromise: I am now taking a drug called Simcor--500 mg niacin, 20mg simvastatin, which is the lowest dose available. (Prior to surgery, I was on 80mg simvastatin.) We will do bloodwork in three months, tweak it as needed, blah blah blah.

I am still having a hard time with the sleep schedule, though I am loving the job. I also registered for two summer quarter classes. I haven't been working out, and my weight is in a holding pattern--I may even be up a pound or two. I am cutting back on diet soda and trying to avoid the bulk candy at work, sticking to the Zone Perfect bars and only one of those per shift. I'm having a hard time with the company-provided meals, too. They offer a lot of vegetarian things, which would be great except they are awfully heavy-handed with the pepper and spices. They have great pizza and rolls, two things I should not be eating--too many carbs, plus they stick in the pouch. I've been eating some of the things that aren't so great for me, and I often don't feel too hot as a result--so the past few days, I am drinking a lot more water than anything else and sticking to my protein drinks and 'safe' foods for meals. I eat lots of plain Cheerios, and I love my Jamba Juice lunches. Sugar-free energy drinks are less fattening and easier to digest than coffee, so I usually do one of those a day. I'm trying to make better choices, and every day is a new one--that's how I try to look at it when I get discouraged.

Saturday 9: Jumping Someone Else's Train

2010-06-23T11:31:00.000-07:00

1. When was your last train ride?

When I was a kid, we took the train to Montana every summer to visit family. I haven't ridden the train since then, but my favorite bed and breakfast is made up of refurbished cabooses and we go there once or twice a year--I don't think it counts though! I have really fond memories of riding the train as a kid. The people were always very kind.

2. How many foreign countries have you visited? Tell us about one.

Only Canada and Mexico. Mexico was really hot and beautiful. I was struck by the poverty, though--and I know I only saw the areas that had been spruced up.

3. What do you always take with you on vacation?

Books, camera, and iPod.

4. Tell us about something you've lost recently.
Just weight!

5. Do you prefer action packed vacations or relaxing ones?

Relaxing.

6. How long will you wait in a checkout line before abandoning your purchases?

I've never abandoned my purchases.

7. How old do you wish you were?
Sometimes I wish I could be about ten years younger, but I like the age I am now.

8. Do you consider yourself kind?
Yes. I don't take any crap or suffer fools gladly, so I can sometimes be perceived as otherwise, but I have had more than one person I was close to say I was the kindest person they had ever met. I consider that the highest compliment anyone could pay.

9. Tell us about your tattoos. Or if you had to get a tattoo, where and what would it be?

I don't have any, but I am definitely considering it, probably on my calf, my upper arm or my back. I think about a lotus, because a dear friend told me I was just like one, that I had become a beautiful person though I had come from shit--a really powerful statement. I think about one of my paintings, an important word (maybe courage). Who knows?

Dressing room

2010-06-13T18:18:00.001-07:00

One of my friends and I like to go to Old Navy periodically, and we did last night. There were a lot of cute things on sale and clearance, and it's fun to dig through them. We usually share a dressing room, and I always take back about 7 items to try on for every one item I end up buying. I am slowly fitting into smaller sizes, which is cool because I am finally at the point where I can buy in the actual bricks-and-mortar store and not have to order from the online-only plus section. I can get into a 16 in their pants, but an 18 is still more comfortable and looks better. I seem to be perpetually in between one size or another, no matter the store or brand.

My friend has also lost a significant amount of weight in recent years. I have never gained weight in my legs, yet that's where the loosest of my skin seems to be, at least as of yet. It was that way for my friend as well--it made me feel a little better, because she wears a 10 or 12 now and looks great in clothes. I think it was the most fun I've had in a dressing room--they have not always been places I wanted to be by any means! Clothes were piled from floor to ceiling, and were laughing ruefully while comparing loose skin, concluding it was the result of aging as well as weight loss. Gravity happens!

Saturday 9: Goodbye to You

2010-06-13T18:04:00.001-07:00

1. Have you had to say goodbye to a good friend or lover because they were moving?

Many times, and sometimes the person moving was me.

2. Have you ever wanted to use personal information about someone to sort of "blackmail" them? If yes, tell us about it.

No, that's below the belt. I'm too much of a believer in karma for that! Things like that cross my mind, I have an evil chuckle, then I get over it and wait for karma to get them if they have it coming--and it always, always does.

3. What two things influenced the choice of your present job or to stay at home?

Money and money.

4. Do you like warm weather? How warm does it get where you live? What is the best way to spend a hot, summer day?

About 65-70 is ideal weather for me--I'm not a fan of super hot weather. It can get into the 80s and even 90s for a few days each summer here, but for the most part it is in the 60s-70s range at its warmest and that's good for me! The best way to spend a hot summer day? Inside with the A/C on. :) If I have to be outside, I need a lot of hydration, sunscreen and an umbrella.

5. What do you find "hot" in a man/woman? What is the first thing you notice about someone who is hot? Do you ever think of yourself as hot?

What I think is hot/what I notice: humor, kindness, a nice smile, nice eyes, someone who makes you feel comfortable. Do I ever think of myself as hot? No. Average.

6. Are you quick to anger? How do you react when you are angry or frustrated? What do you do to cool down?
I can definitely get angry quickly--I tend to vent and be done with it for the little things and stew for a long time on the big things. To cool down, I just feel what I'm feeling, knowing it will pass. If it's not passing, I ride it out and work to use the energy motivate me to persevere.

7. In your family, who is the least like the rest of you?

I'm the least like the rest of them.

8. What are a few great books that you've taken along to the beach or on vacation in years past?

I always have a book or a stack of books. There are too many to list!

9. Do you like going outside during a thunderstorm and watching the lightning?

I like watching it out the window.

Oh yeah, the weight loss thing...

2010-06-08T10:26:00.000-07:00

There's not much of note to report on that front. I have continued to eat well and religiously take my vitamins and supplements. I keep my portions small, paying close attention to how full I feel--occasionally I worry about that because I am able to eat more now. Last night, I determined that I have to be wary of the bulk candy at work--they have M&M's and Jelly Bellys in big jars that we can help ourselves to. (I've still never full-on dumped from sugar, but if I eat too much of it, I definitely don't feel too hot--it can result in an unpleasant headache and things have the potential to get stinky--both good deterrents!) They also have protein bars sometimes, which makes me very happy, and we are provided lunch or dinner every day as well. The food is above-average quality, healthy and good for you; it isn't all stuff I can eat, but there is always salad available and at least one type of cooked veggie if I can't tolerate the meat entree (I couldn't last night, for example--it was some kind of Thai pork in peanut sauce and way too spicy for me). I haven't gained any weight, which is all I hope for at this point because I haven't been working out. I feel like things are in a holding pattern because of the swing shift schedule. I don't sleep all in one block of time; I often wake up relatively early and then doze on and off through the morning, setting my alarm clock for noon so I don't oversleep. I know that's not a great way to function, but we only have one bedroom and Mr. Salted is on day shift so it's hard to avoid. The swing shift thing is only going to last another month, so it won't be like this forever. Since I know where I'm going to be working, I can at least find a conveniently located pool I want to use. I'm also not sure about classes this quarter--there is one on two Saturdays that I could do, and two that are online I could possibly do; I need to call the instructors to be sure.

My new job

2010-06-06T17:07:00.000-07:00

This week, I started a job at one of the most famous Internet companies in the world. I am absolutely thrilled to be working there (and to be off unemployment!), even though the position is a contract job through a staffing agency--the assignment is supposed to last a year, possibly two. It just so happens that I have submitted resumes to this company directly several times over the past few years, so I am hoping this will be a foot in the door. If not, it will look good on a resume. It all happened somewhat by accident--I answered a blind ad on Craigslist that didn't specify the company that was hiring because the position sounded ideal for me. I was later informed this method of advertising the job was done purposefully so that they were not flooded with resumes from people that were in no way qualified but would nonetheless want to work for the company.

The whole experience has been a total trip. I had to have a background check and agree to (but have not been asked to actually take) a drug test. They checked references, and I had to sign a 12-page NDA (non-disclosure agreement). Security is extremely tight at this company. I have to have a badge not only to get in and out of the building, but to get in and out certain doors of the building during my shifts, even to go to the bathroom and back. When we went in the first day to get badge ID photos taken, we were given very specific rules about choosing a password--it had to have a number, a letter, a symbol, upper and lowercase, it couldn't be a pet's name, it couldn't be this or that...by the time I got to the guy that was putting me in the system, my brain was completely fried. I was having a hard time inputting my password multiple times in the exact same configuration--and he wouldn't let me write it on a Post-It! "I can't do that unless I can shred it or set fire to it afterward," he said. I looked at him and said, "I will EAT it after I write it! That's how I remember things! Give me a break, I'm older than most of these people!" He at least chuckled at that, but still wouldn't budge--and there were more passwords to come. I had to choose another unique password for separate internal usage, and we were each issued a special device that would generate random unique one-time passwords for other special occasions. It's wild!

I am on swing shift for a few weeks, which is messing with me a bit (as I mentioned previously). This first week was spent in training learning their software tools and some policies. I'm not supposed to say much to anyone about where or when or what--it's very "if I told you, I'd have to kill you". I really like the job thus far and am really hoping it turns into something I can stay with. Not working with the public ROCKS!

Vegas

2010-06-06T16:45:00.001-07:00

So, I finally got to see Vegas. It's a very interesting place and can be fun--I took 800 pictures--but not anywhere you'd go to relax! (I took the above photo of the fountains at the Bellagio, and I love it because you can see the smoke--I was thinking of entering it in a photo contest. Unfortunately, they were playing Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On" during this particular display, which served to make me realize that even though the movie "Titanic" came out more than ten years ago, I still would rather not ever hear that song again.)

My friend and I stayed at the Hard Rock Hotel--which had great restaurants in it and music memorabilia and decor that was very cool, but it was also chock-a-block full of Aspiring Beautiful People, most of whom were young enough to be my kid. (Needless to say, I didn't bother going down to the pool.) My traveling companion smokes--she had a guy offer her "a bump for a smoke" while we were waiting for the airport shuttle. (I had to tell her that meant cocaine. It was kind of cute.)

Cher was great--she looks and sounds phenomenal. There were a lot of costume changes and acrobatic Cirque De Soleil stuff going on behind her. She did not sing "Love is a Battlefield", but oddly enough, she did cover Bob Seger's "Fire Down Below" (and well!).

On topic--I got all dressed up when we went to see Cher and wore something sleeveless in public for the first time since I was twelve years old (not counting bathing suits, but I've always worn T-shirts over those whenever possible). For me, that was a big deal. Once we got onto the Vegas strip, there were people of all shapes, ages and sizes letting it all hang out. My arms were exposed to the world for the evening--and, lo and behold, it did not explode. I posted pictures on Facebook and my friends and family all told me how great I looked. I cringe to myself when I see certain pictures, but Rome was not built in a day.

Temperatures were in the 90s while we were there, but physically I was surprisingly comfortable. About a week after I got home, Mr. Salted and I went to a big local festival with some friends, where we walked around all day--and I didn't get winded or tired and I wasn't in pain the next day. It was MIRACULOUS!

Saturday 9: If I Had a Hammer

2010-06-06T16:35:00.000-07:00

1. Are you handy with tools?

Not at all. I am the sort of person people take hammers and kitchen utensils away from.

2. What was the best thing that happened to you this week?

I started my new job. :)

3. What was the worst thing that happened to you this week?

Having to have a fasting blood draw while on swing shift.

4. Do you think you act your age?

Yes, except I say "dude" and don't really dress like a grownup if I can avoid it.

5. Describe an item of clothing that has definitely seen better days but that you refuse to dispose of and still wear. Why won't you toss it?

A pair of Converse slides I have that hasn't been manufactured since the mid-90s. They are SO comfortable...

6. What is your favorite summertime beverage?
Plain old cold water.

7. Have you ever lied about your age?
No. People routinely think I am younger and I am good with that. :o)

8. What was the most memorable birthday party you've attended?
I'm going to say a few years ago when I went out with some girlfriends to see a bunch of AC/DC cover bands. It was a riot.

9. What is something that really frightens you, and can you trace it back to an event in your life?
I have PTSD, and yes. That's all I'm going to say.

Jamba Juice!

2010-06-03T12:25:00.001-07:00

Things have been crazy busy--I went to Vegas, came back, got sick, got well, started a new job, and a whole bunch of other stuff. I went and had my blood drawn for the Berkeley Heart Labs this morning--no mean feat when you have to fast and you're on swing shift. I have a lot to blog about, but will have to catch up later.

Yesterday, I went to Jamba Juice to get one of their "light" smoothies, and I have to say, I like them a lot better than Coldstone's! My favorite is Mango Mantra. They're not cheap, but they taste good, are refreshing and serve as a meal (or two). I think the largest size is somewhere in the 300s in terms of calories, and there are boosts that can be added to them, too. So hooray for Jamba Juice!

When I parked my car, I saw this stop sign and it made my whole day. Glad my phone has a camera!

In brief

2010-05-14T20:34:00.000-07:00

Primary-care doc thinks Berkeley Heart Labs is a good idea. I'll be doing them next week. She thinks if I was going to lose my hair like my uncle did, it would have happened immediately, and she lectured me about the positives of the statin drugs, but conceded that having these tests done and assessed by the specialist would be a good choice before resuming them. So I'm off the hook for a few weeks.

I got a start date for my job today: June 1.

Now I'm off to Vegas for several days, and I've never been. I don't gamble, but I AM going to see Cher! I heard she does "Love is a Battlefield" in this show--will it top Mr. Garrison's version on "South Park"? Stay tuned....

9-month post-op with nutritionist

2010-05-13T19:02:00.000-07:00

I saw my nutritionist today, which was interesting. I weighed 204 in their office, which was the lowest weight I've posted thus far. Our conversation was mostly the same stuff; we went over my bloodwork, and her response to my "elevated" folate and B-12 was to say, "That just shows me you're taking your vitamins like you should! That doesn't cause any adverse effects to you at all."

We discussed my still-high cholesterol; the center has an ARNP on staff that specializes in metabolic syndrome and cardiovascular disease, and she can do a workup called the Berkeley HeartLab Cardiovascular Tests. They draw your blood (which has to be frozen and shipped to Berkeley, CA, hence the name) and do genetic testing to determine exactly how your cholesterol is high and specific treatment your body will respond to. It also makes it possible to determine how to tailor your eating habits to your genotype for the healthiest dietary choices you can possibly make for yourself. This is their website:

http://www.4myheart.com/

Their phone number is (800) 432-7889. They have a special kit to take to the lab where the blood is drawn that includes their specific vials and such. Usually detailed bloodwork of this nature is extremely costly, but apparently it is their policy that even if it is not covered by insurance, it will not cost any more than $150.00 out of pocket. It does have to be done through a participating physician from the looks of the website.

I am going to discuss it with my primary-care doctor tomorrow, but I think it would be $150.00 well spent in my case--especially since I just found out from one of my uncles that statin drugs exacerbated his alopecia areata to the point that he lost every hair on his head (including eyebrows and eyelashes) as well as much of his body hair, even leg and arm hair. He joked that it made him look like he had mange! I really,really don't want that to happen to me! Apparently, cholesterol and hair are intrinsically linked in general. I had no idea--and his doctor prescribed Lipitor and didn't bother to share that particular side effect, if she even knew about it herself!

The one thing that made me nuts today at the nutritionist was the calorie-counting conversation we had. In yesterday's vent on this blog, I said I would have to eat 1500 calories a day for the rest of my life. When I said something to her about it, she told me she actually recommends that people try to stay between 800 and 1000 calories during the first two years after surgery and between 1200 and 1500 calories per day thereafter for maintenance. I politely blew my stack. 800 CALORIES A DAY? What is that, like four protein drinks and half a banana? I've been on as low as 1000/day and that urged me to kill (of course, I was a teenager and living mostly on SlimFast, but still). I told her I'd shoot for the 1200 but that was the best I could do, as I have to live in the actual world. She said something along the lines of, "Well, if you get dizzy or anything, you should eat more." I (barely) refrained from spouting, "DUH!" I just reminded her that as a former eating-disorder sufferer, I knew all too well about how it physically feels to starve myself. Sheesh!

Since my weight is still going down, we basically concluded that all is well. That was basically it. My next appointment with both her and the surgeon is my year surgery anniversary.

"Easy way out, my dimpled badonkadonk!"

2010-05-12T11:00:00.000-07:00

I had a good workout this morning and I feel fantastic! I keep trying other DVDs but so far, end up going back to Mr. Simmons--glitter, 'fro, and all. Goofy as he is, I can keep up with him, I usually like the music, and the workouts are fun.

I usually don't play favorites in any arena, but I have to say that my favorite blogger is Lyn, whose blog is Escape from Obesity and I recommend it highly:

http://escapefromobesity.blogspot.com/

She blogged the other day about people talking about weight-loss surgery as the easy way out. I've said many of these things I'm about to say previously on this blog, but I am going to repost a paraphrased version of my comments to her simply because I get so very tired of hearing this crap--which, in my experience, 95% of the time from people who have never struggled with their weight (and the other 5% just have Issues).

I tried EVERYTHING to lose weight. All my life. From "healthy" doctor-supervised diet and exercise programs to having a full-blown eating disorder (and I exercised then, too). I have the most success (by and thus far) with my gastric bypass at 9 months out (also including healthy diet and exercise), but the true test will be when I am two years out, five years out, and so forth. The adjustments I have made to better my lifestyle cannot end or my progress will stop or even reverse itself, and I am getting older and my metabolism is slowing down just like every other human life form on Earth.

I used to be TOTALLY anti-bariatric surgery when it came to me. I researched it and struggled with the decision to have it for ten years. It was not something I undertook lightly, in large part because I wanted to make sure I was not doing it because I hated myself or thought I needed anyone's approval.

My lab work and other vitals have to be monitored frequently, I have to exercise regularly, and it is my understanding that I have to eat and drink no more than approximately 1500 calories a day for the rest of my life--and that's 1500 calories of the limited foods my body can comfortably digest now, which leaves out anything breaded, bread itself, meat that isn't ground, anything fried, the majority of dairy, pizza, the majority of alcoholic beverages, etc. etc. etc. As of today, the majority of my food intake is protein shakes and South Beach protein bars. And you know what? I'm happy to make these choices and would do it all again in a heartbeat.

Do I think weight-loss surgery is the ONLY way? Absolutely NOT. I have nothing but respect and admiration for those who are able to lose weight with diet and exercise alone. It is DAMN HARD. I tried it many times, and I was never able to get below 250 pounds. (I have genetic predisposition, hormonal wackness, and I am over 40; perhaps that is why. Who KNOWS why? It just didn't work for me.)

Do some people use weight-loss surgery for the wrong reasons? ABSOLUTELY--and it blows up in their faces when they do. I have met many wonderful, noble folks who have been there, people who are still struggling valiantly to make their lives healthier and better--just as I am, just as the people who go to groups are, just as the people who are doing meal plans are, just as people who are doing diet and exercise alone are.

What deserves admiration and respect is still being in the fight. Still trying. Still learning. Still going back to the healthy stuff after a setback. Examining your own darkness and leaning toward the light. Acknowledging the experiences of others as valid even though they may be worlds apart from your own. We're not so very different after all; we all have our rocks to keep rolling up that hill in this life.

There is no easy way out of ANYTHING, ever. The only way out is through.

9 months post-op with bariatric surgeon

2010-05-11T18:33:00.000-07:00

In summary: he concluded that I have lost 71 pounds total (still 91 since my highest weight--that's the number I tell people, with that caveat), seven pounds since the last visit three months ago, so I'm still about where I should be. If I want to lose it faster, I have to exercise more often. (I've been managing once or twice a week.) My cholesterol is still high, and since I can no longer ingest any food that would cause it to be that way--and haven't been able to for months--so it has to be genetic. I'm taking chromium and niacin as well. It IS lower than it was when I went on cholesterol meds lo those many years ago, but it's still really high. (276, I think he said. My primary care physician is going to ream me and make me go back on the freakin' statins. Sigh.)

Usually, I am a big fan of nurses in general (especially Nurse Jackie!) but the one today annoyed the bejesus out of me, clucking over my lab results because my "folate and vitamin B-12 are ELEVATED". Riddle me this, Nurse Never-Seen-You-Before-In-My-Life, what dire consequences could such elevation bring forth? (I see the nutritionist Thursday, I'm sure SHE'LL tell me...) If it means I have to buy a reduced quantity of expensive bariatric vitamins, I shall dance a joyous jiggly-jig with unchecked abandon. Sometimes I think these people grasp for clucking material so they don't have to connect with you on any level beyond the blood-pressure cuff, or maybe they feel like they haven't justified your co-pay unless you get some kind of feedback (where most doctors seem as though they could care less, but that's another issue altogether).

Well, hmpf. I didn't sleep well last night, and from the sounds of it, it would appear that I am a touch grumpy. :)

So, I will conclude with good and positive things: beautiful sunny day, I loved my Visio class and taking classes again PERIOD, and I bought something to wear at Costco the other day and I didn't have to buy the biggest size they had for the first time since high school!!! I was scanning some old pictures last night and couldn't help but notice how much better I look now than I did even for most of my 20s. I look healthier and happier (probably because I am definitively both of these). I cannot retrieve my less-weathered skin from days of yore, but it IS clearer now; I've had lasik so no more Coke-bottle specs; and best of all, I found my Mr. Salted. I'm not fatter, but I'm definitely sassier. ;)

Recent stuff

2010-05-09T15:27:00.000-07:00

Yeah, yeah, it's Mother's Day. Not my favorite. My blog about it last year says all I have to say on that subject. I should be doing something productive today, but I got sick this week and have taken it easy all weekend. Mr. Salted and I watched "Whip It" last night and enjoyed it, which surprised me; I wasn't all that enamored of the book, but the movie had a great cast. We were in the mood for something fairly light, and it sufficed. It was fun to see Betty White on Saturday Night Live last night, too. Mr. Salted's mother has Alzheimer's disease and lives in a facility out of state, so this isn't his favorite day, either. I called my grandmother and sent her a card. She is doing as well as can be expected, and my uncles are taking care of her, which has been such a load off my shoulders. I call her about once a week, and send her a lot of little cards that don't say much.

I got a job with a very well-regarded Internet company. It starts in the next few weeks--I've accepted the position and done the paperwork with the staffing agency, but it was a mass hire (400+ people) and something like 80 of them will start each week, so I haven't gotten my firm start date as of yet. It's just a contract job for a minimum of one year (maximum of two) but it's also a foot in the door and I'm really happy to have it. I really enjoyed working in the tech industry in the past and that's where I'd like the rest of my career to be.

On that note, I took my first continuing-ed class on the way to a Technical Writing Certificate Wednesday. It was a level 2 Microsoft Word 2007 class, and a good way to dip my foot back in the educational pool. I'm a fairly adept Word user, but got to learn about all kinds of cool stuff the software can do now. It's come a long way since 1995, when the kids at my university were teaching it to me in the computer lab--I was six to eight years older than they were, and at times like that I felt as though they thought of me as a pet ("look at the old person learning computers!"). I still had an electric typewriter, and it was 1996. Ah, good times.

So the Word 2007 class was cool--I think there were eight people in it. I was neither the oldest nor the youngest there, and it was fun talking to the other people there about how they used Word and what they did for a living. I like continuing ed--it's geared toward working people (read: grounded in reality). The classes are small and the atmosphere is very laid-back. I take a Visio class this coming week. That one meets twice for four hours, which will be a lot easier than meeting once for eight--that was a bit of a marathon, and I think that's how I ended up sick. I think it was just that and the finally getting a job and my body just said, Okay, you're down now, REST.

My weight hasn't really changed much. I stay between 205 and 208. I think I worked out once this week, and my eating is fine, nothing out of the ordinary. I went through my clothes today and things are still shifting around, albeit slowly. I have a couple of things that fit with no X in the size, which is nothing short of amazing! Most of my stuff is 18s but some of the 16s fit or nearly fit. My stomach remains my biggest (literally and figuratively) nemesis. I can literally get all of me except my stomach into a pair of size 14 jeans. I want to know why they can't just do a tummy tuck NOW. Hmpf.

Life's blood

2010-05-08T14:25:00.001-07:00

I earmarked last Monday for my latest fasting blood draw, as I have two nine-month post-op appointments coming up. When I'm due for a fasting blood draw, I try to have a snack at late as I'm allowed (usually 10 PM) so I'm not gnawing my arm (or anyone else's) off by the time the blood is taken. I also try to sleep soundly (not that I can dictate that per se, but an Advil PM or Benadryl can add a protective layer to my prescription sleep aids) so that I don't wake up and want food during the night. I managed all of the above and showed up at the lab, but couldn't find the orders from the bariatric surgeon. (I had the orders from my primary care doctor, but she tracks some additional levels above and beyond what the bariatric surgeon tracks.) I begged the tech to take an extra vial or two and told her I would get in touch with the surgeon for the levels they needed. She said she would need actual paper orders from the bariatric surgeon, and I said that was fine, I would go and get them, but it would be nice to be able to eat before I (a) passed out behind the wheel or (b) killed something, because it would take an hour or two to get there and back. She took some extra blood, I went on my merry way, and came back with the necessary paperwork. Of course, one of the vials from the morning draw should have been protected from light and hadn't been, so I had to offer up the other arm for a second draw. The first one hadn't hurt; the second one was painful. A total of eight vials were drawn. I was exhausted, but knew I still had to go to the store.

The last stretch of road to the store is on a two-lane highway. It was almost noon by then, sunny and lovely. I was out of it from blood-giving, drinking a protein drink, trying to stay awake, grumbling internally to myself as I tend to do at such times, when I saw two sets of flashing lights on the shoulder to my right. One set was on an ordinary-looking truck, the other on an average sedan, neither of which I would have ever earmarked as any kind of official vehicle. Two men stood between the vehicles talking above a dead boy on the pavement.

The kid appeared to be in his teens or early 20s. There was no blood or anything--he just looked asleep, but extremely asleep, very still. He was wearing a hoodie, jeans and sneakers, and the men standing beside him weren't making any effort to administer to him at all. I was surprised they hadn't covered at least his face; it seemed obscene somehow that he was just lying there exposed like that. My guess is that they were waiting for paramedics and/or police.

Seeing that jolted me out of myself immediately. I'm not a follower of any particular faith, but I said something like a prayer, hoping someone was listening: that he would get where he was going on his next journey safely. I wondered if he had a family, and I thought about them, about how we all started out with a family, at least in theory--how everyone was once somebody's child. I wondered why it was his time, and not mine.

I've wondered that many times in my life: why was it my mother, my best friend, someone else's treasured parent or child, my child. Why I remain.

Several years ago when I was in the throes of rather severe depression, I witnessed a similar incident while driving--similar in the thoughts it inspired me to think, anyway. I was driving down a highway--another rural highway, though not the same one--and the car immediately parallel to me (or a little ahead of me) in the lane to my right swerved off the road suddenly without slowing down at all. Most of this particular highway was bordered by grassy hillside, but this car managed to run smack into a concrete underpass at what looked like full speed. Pieces of the car flew everywhere; one hit my front bumper and left a mark that remains to this day. I looked in my rear-view mirror, contemplating going back, but people had already pulled over to help. I was late for an appointment, and I just kept going, as if in a daze. (I was in a daze; I was in a daze for three or four years, and this happened during that time.) I read a couple of days later in the paper that the driver had died on impact, and that he was younger than I.

It literally felt like a hand had come out of the sky and plucked that person from the Earth, close enough for me to see it happen. I wondered then, as now, why it was him and not me, and it shook me up, but in a positive way--it made me realize how very much I still want to live, and to be grateful that I still had the chance.

Lack of sleep linked to early death: study (reposted from Yahoo)

2010-05-08T14:19:00.000-07:00

Wed May 5, 9:44 am ET

LONDON (AFP) – People who get less than six hours sleep per night have an increased risk of dying prematurely, researchers said on Wednesday.

Those who slumbered for less than that amount of time were 12 percent more likely to die early, though researchers also found a link between sleeping more than nine hours and premature death.

"If you sleep little, you can develop diabetes, obesity, hypertension and high cholesterol," Francesco Cappuccio, who led research on the subject at Britain's University of Warwick, told AFP.

The study, conducted with the Federico II University in Naples, Italy, aggregated decade-long studies from around the world involving more than 1.3 million people and found "unequivocal evidence of the direct link" between lack of sleep and premature death.

"We think that the relation between little sleep and illness is due to a series of hormonal and metabolical mechanisms," Cappuccio said.

The findings of the study were published in the Sleep journal.

Cappuccio believes the duration of sleep is a public health issue and should be considered as a behavioral risk factor by doctors.

"Society pushes us to sleep less and less," Cappuccio said, adding that about 20 percent of the population in the United States and Britain sleeps less than five hours.

Sleeping less than six hours is "more common amongst full-time workers, suggesting that it may be due to societal pressures for longer working hours and more shift work"

The study also found a link between sleeping more than nine hours per night and premature death, but Cappuccio said oversleeping is more likely to be an effect of illness, rather than a cause.

"Doctors never ask how much one sleeps, but that could be an indicator that something is wrong," said Cappuccio, who heads the Sleep, Health and Society Programme at the University of Warwick.

Research showed no adverse effects for those sleeping between six and eight hours per day.

Bullies Target Obese Kids (reposted from Yahoo)

2010-05-03T16:27:00.001-07:00

By Serena Gordon, HealthDay Reporter
MONDAY, May 3, 2010 (HealthDay News)

For kids, a few extra pounds may invite trouble from the schoolyard bully.

New research suggests that just being overweight increases the risk of being bullied. And factors that usually play a role in the risk of being bullied, such as gender, race and family income levels, don't seem to matter if you're overweight -- being overweight or obese trumps all those other factors when it comes to aggressive behavior from other children.

The study found that being overweight increased the risk of being the target of bullying by 63 percent.

"One of the reasons we started this study is that obesity is so much more common today. Now that about half of kids are overweight or obese, it doesn't make you such an outlier anymore, so we thought maybe kids wouldn't be bullied for being overweight anymore," said study author Dr. Julie Lumeng, an assistant research scientist at the Center for Human Growth and Development at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. She added that the researchers also hoped they might be able to find some protective factors against being bullied, such as doing well in school.

"What we found, much to our dismay, was that nothing seemed to matter. If you were obese, you were more likely to be bullied, no matter what," she said.

Results of the study will be published in the June issue of Pediatrics, but were released online May 3.

The study included 821 boys and girls from a nationally representative sample of children selected from 10 sites around the United States. Bullying behaviors were assessed in third, fifth and sixth grades. The youngsters were mostly white, half of them were male and 15 percent were overweight in the third grade.

By sixth grade, teachers reported that 34 percent of the study children had been bullied, and mothers reported that 45 percent of the children had been bullied, while 25 percent of the children themselves said they had been bullied.

Previous research has shown that boys, minorities and children from low-income groups are more likely to be bullied, so the researchers took these factors into account to see if they made a difference. The study authors also considered a child's social skills and academic achievement in their analysis.

"No matter how much we retested, the findings were very robust. Obese kids are more likely to be bullied," said Lumeng.

She said that one of the reasons she believes the findings were so consistent is that prejudice against overweight or obese people is "so pervasive that it's acceptable." But, she added, "Obesity is really complex. It's not all about willpower. It's a brain-based disorder, and I hope that message becomes clearer."

Dana Rofey, an assistant professor with the Weight Management and Wellness Center at Children's Hospital of Pittsburgh, said she wasn't surprised by the findings. "Bullying is the most common psychosocial complaint that our patients present with," she said.

"For parents and pediatricians, one of the issues our study raises is that if you're caring for a child who's overweight, you need to be alert to this and you might want to gently bring it up with the child. Ask, 'How are things at school going?' or 'Does anyone ever say something that makes you feel bad?' because this may be an issue that's difficult for kids to bring up," said Lumeng.

If your child lets you know that he or she is being bullied, Lumeng said your first response should be to validate your child's feelings and let them know that it's not OK for someone to treat them like that.

What to do next can be tricky, agreed both experts.

"Be supportive, and let your child know that you'll help them. Consult with your child and ask how he or she would like you to get involved," advised Rofey. Many youngsters may ask their parents to take a hands-off approach, she said. But she recommends setting some guidelines. "Say something like, 'It seems you have this under control right now, but let's keep talking and checking in about it.'"

Rofey also recommends teaching your child how to avoid situations that might lead to teasing or bullying, and talking with your child about how to reach out to adults if they need to. Depending on the situation, she said that parents may need to step in and advocate for their children at the school. But, she advised always letting your children know what steps you'll be taking.

Our troops take on Lady GaGa

2010-05-02T18:04:00.000-07:00

I love our troops!!!!

Shapewear

2010-05-01T16:10:00.000-07:00

I have decided that modern-day shapewear is nothing short of magical.

Most of my adult life, I would do anything to avoid wearing nylons or tights--and they're pretty hard to find in a bricks-and-mortar store when you are size 3X or higher. Now I can buy them anywhere (sometimes with coupons!), and while I'm always glad to get out of them, they don't bother me nearly as much as they once did.

I have never liked clothing that was tight, fitted, or even semi-fitted. As I lose weight, I am becoming more comfortable with wearing clothes that actually fit--yet I still can't escape the recovering-bulimic voice in my head that says, "You need a bigger size. Hide. Hide. HIDE!!!! A tent with a hole for your head, that's what you need! You can't wear that in public! People will be able to make out the cellulite in your abdomen through the shirt!" and so forth. Sometimes she calls me the Baroness of Back Fat or some other sweet nothing. (I just now realized that the recovering-bulimic voice is a total bitch who just needs to chug a huge cup of shut the hell up.)

As time goes on, my skin is getting looser--the fat that remains is kind of moving around in there with room to spare. (I had to stop one of my cats from kneading my stomach the other day--apparently he found it of a pleasing consistency for that particular activity. Needless to say, I Was Not Amused.)

My grandmother made me try to wear an actual girdle once, sometime in my early to middle teens. I struggled into it, immediately unable to breathe. It was hot, it itched like hell, and it contained actual rubber , which ensured the garment provided the maximum amount of chafing per centimeter. (No wonder I rejected nylons, tights, and even slips the second I got a chance!) The whole "beauty is pain" mantra was never one I could embrace--my bullshit detector goes up to eleven. I knew the truth immediately: donning that slimming straitjacket didn't bring me one bit closer to beautiful, only a hell of a lot crankier--and every bit as lumpy--as before.

I tried wearing Spanx for my wedding to Mr. Salted three years ago--I was at my highest weight at the time. I was horribly self-conscious and uncomfortable all day. I was in a beautiful, simple dress, my hair and nails done, several people I loved dearly present. It should have been the happiest day of my life, and I was happy and very emotional, but my physical discomfort never completely left my mind the entire day. The Spanx didn't keep me from looking, or being, huge. (You can also see the line from them across my abdomen in the wedding pictures. Petty and vain as that is, it bothered me.) So wearing Spanx accomplished exactly nothing--but they aren't a magic wand, and I probably bought them too large to begin with. We should have just worn t-shirts and jeans and gone to the courthouse, but I wanted to show Mr. S I loved him by getting all dressed up for him (since I rarely ever do), and he looked very dapper in a suit. Unfortunately, all that my attempts at being a girly bride accomplished was to cause him to worry about my discomfort all day, too. Sigh.

Right now, I have a lot of clothes that technically FIT but I didn't like the way I looked in them, so I wouldn't wear them (visible cellulite, Baroness of Back Fat, etc.). So, I decided to give shapewear another try, 2010-style. I found a Maidenform "tummy-toning tank" at Costco (the package actually reads, "Fat Free Dressing"--aren't those marketing people witty?). Remarkably, I can honestly say that I LOVE THIS THING. It's comfortable, doesn't itch, it smooths everything down and keeps it in place so that I can wear clothes that fit--and they actually look decent. Yes, I am still fluffy/lumpy/grumpy, but at least I appear smooth and solid, with the possibility of a waist lurking somewhere under the surface.

13 Things That Weight-Loss Surgery Has Made Possible (inspired by Thursday Thirteen)

2010-05-01T15:55:00.000-07:00

1. Fitting into restaurant booths and chairs.

2. Being able to clean my house without getting as tired.

3. Walking further, dancing longer.

4. (Sadly) strangers are friendlier to me. I'm not hearing comments or noticing people sizing up my shopping cart.

5. Finding clothes at regular stores for cheap prices! I wore a dress to a job interview the other day that I got on the clearance rack at Target for $7 and it looked great. When I was heavier, the same dress probably would have cost $60--minimum.

6. I have more energy.

7. I smile more. I honestly feel happier.

8. I sleep better.

9. I'm more confident. Job interviews have definitely been easier.

10. My body doesn't feel like the enemy to the extent it once did. I still don't like it, and I still feel somewhat dissociated from it, but I feel so much better already. Which leads me to--

11. I'm physically more comfortable. Summer might not be as hellish as usual this year.

12. I wear clothes that fit and not clothes that are three sizes too big.

13. My feet got smaller.

Saturday 9: Changes

2010-05-01T15:42:00.000-07:00

1. Tell us about one thing that you'd change about yourself if you could.

My body.

2. Mattel decides to make a Barbie-like (or Ken-like) doll of you -- what would be the most important accessory or accessories they would absolutely have to package you with in order to portray your lifestyle?

Books.

3. Hey, do you like surprises? If yes, what kinds?

I HATE surprises!

4. What was the last snail mail that you received that was significant?

A friend sent me a lovely, encouraging card.

5. If you could pick out a brand new nickname for yourself, what would you choose and why?

The nicknames I have are just fine. Pzuzu is my favorite.

6. John Edward's mistress was on Oprah this past Thursday. She stated that no third person can break up a marriage, so it had to be broken before the two started doing the nasty. Do you buy that?

Actually, I do, not that it excuses anyone's behavior in that situation. I think infidelity is a symptom of underlying issues that aren't being addressed. Sleeping with someone else's spouse invites karma to bite you in the keester.

7. Do you think it is okay to keep secrets from your s/o?

Yes, sometimes, particularly if they are about the distant past.

8. Have you ever played Truth or Dare? If yes, what's the weirdest dare that you did?

Urinated on a church lawn at night.

9. What, in hindsight, the stupidest thing that you have ever done?

See #8--and I moved cross-country for a man once. I was young and stupid.

WLS Lifestyles Magazine

2010-04-28T09:47:00.000-07:00

When I first saw a blurb about this magazine on the BariatricEating.com website, I thought the WLS in the title was the acronym for Weight-Loss Surgery, as it often seems to be, and thought, "Wow, there's a whole magazine devoted to bariatric surgery patients?" However, it stands for Weight-Loss SUCCESS Lifestyles!

This is a quarterly magazine geared toward anyone trying to lose weight and live a healthier life, whatever the method. While weight-loss surgery and its concerns are a healthy portion (har) of the magazine, there are all kinds of other subjects addressed within as well. Looking at the two issues I've received for fall 2009 and winter 2010, there are articles on corporate weight-loss strategies at work, the Mediterranean path to wellness, the relationship between physical pain and diet, how to make weight loss last, heart healthy foods and more. There are a lot of positive articles on how to take care of the inside of a person as well as the outside and features on actual doctors and medical facilities that are making strides to address obesity. The advertisements are good for post-WLS people, as they show products that address the specific nutritional needs of bariatric patients.

A friend who specifically wanted to do something for me to support the choice I'd made gave me the subscription as a gift, which I thought was extremely thoughtful--and it's actually something I can use. Things like post-WLS regain and other common concerns seem to be touched on at least once in every issue, and I can just flip through it at my leisure or go back to it when needed.

Rick Astley

2010-04-27T17:29:00.000-07:00

This is one of the funniest things I've seen in a while. I have fond memories of this song, many involving a lovely boy who was a sweet soul--sadly, long since passed away--but who adored it and sang it often back then, beaming his beautiful smile.

Apparently the pie chart is part of a phenomena I didn't know existed, but a friend I emailed it to schooled me:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rickrolling

The '80s never really die...

Saturday 9: I Want to Hold Your Hand

2010-04-26T12:54:00.000-07:00

1. What do you notice about other people's hands?

Everything--I love hands. I love the dimpled softness of a child's hands; I love seeing rough hands or beautifully manicured hands. Older hands are amazing. I have taken some great hand photos, and my favorite photo from my wedding is probably the one of our rings and the bouquet. I love graceful hands.

2. If someone was nosing around your house, what would you hope they wouldn't see?

How much cat hair and dust there is.

3. Do you think that the more stuff you own enhances your life or adds to your burden?

Adds to the burden.

4. What was the last movie you saw in the theatre?

"Alice in Wonderland", which was just okay. I'm one of the only people in America who isn't enamored of 3-D. It actually annoys me and makes me nauseous.

5. What do you have under your bed?

Dust, a backscratcher, and some Rubbermaid totes full of sweaters and purses.

6. What do you think your s/o or best friend would say about what makes you unique?

Mr. Salted says I'm the nicest person he's ever met. I've also been told that I was a better friend than most--both the best compliments I can imagine.

7. What's your current favorite TV commercial?

It sounds weird, but I like the PSA types that pack a punch. The one that comes to mind is a progression of mug shots of a young woman who uses meth that shows how much she deteriorates physically in a short period of time. The music in the background is "lullaby and good night" and it sounds like it's being played on a child's mobile. There is no voice-over, just the anti-drug message at the end on a black screen with white letters. It's very powerful.

Traditional advertising tends to be so manipulative as to make me want to scream, especially if you watch it with the sound off. I'm not saying the PSA isn't manipulative too, but at least its message is valuable and not just "buy more stuff and you'll be a better/prettier/skinnier/younger/more sexually desirable/wealthier/cooler person".

8. Who do you owe a phone call to?

My former in-laws. I need to call them TODAY!

Cardio happens!

2010-04-26T12:27:00.000-07:00

I bought a new workout DVD on Friday. (I have a bathing suit that fits now, but since I don't know where I'll be working in relation to where classes are geographically speaking, I hesitate to join a gym or pool yet--and walking just plain hurts too much. I haven't found any affordable membership that isn't specific to the workout facility where one joins.) The DVD I got is a Dancing With the Stars thing called "Retro and Latin Mix". (I don't watch the show, but it sounded fun.) There is a lot of hip action with any Latin dancing, and I have bursitis in mine, so it's a challenge--but I really like this workout (despite the perky thin people on it--I've learned to accept that I am of a different species, besides being middle-aged, so who cares?). I did the Latin/Retro warm-up part and the Retro/Disco part and worked up a good sweat--I feel great and so far, my ankle doesn't hurt. (We'll see how it feels tonight! Maybe a carpeted floor makes all the difference.) I've always wanted to learn to salsa dance and really want to try it someday when I lose more weight. (I'm only waiting to lose more weight before I try it because it moves quickly and I'm still not as light on my feet as I'd like to be, even while doing this workout. Besides, I can fit into slinkier dresses if I wait a bit, but I'm still and always wearing flats. The athletes and acrobats can have the heels.)

This is how I feel: if I keep moving, cardio happens. I currently have two complementary mottos: "At least I'm doing something" and "Doing something is better than doing nothing." I think of it as the Good Enough For Me Method of Living a Healthier Life.

down in the dumps

2010-04-21T15:37:00.000-07:00

I applied for five jobs today. Today, I also found out my unemployment went through--a huge relief. I have to go to a mandatory job-search workshop next week that I'm sure will be simply delightful. I fully expect to have a headache afterward. Speaking of which...

I've been fighting a migraine this week and have just been down in the dumps. (I'm not sure why, I had a really nice weekend getaway with Mr. Salted.) All day yesterday, I couldn't make myself do anything but stare at TV I didn't care about in a dark room and eat too much (a relative amount, considering I can't eat all that much, but it still concerns me). Today, I'm trying to drink tea instead.

I have to start keeping chocolate completely out of my house. I knew this in my logical mind, but old habits die hard. It's one of my tests--I thought this surgery would just make me get sick when I ate any, but it doesn't. I can feel a little ooky, maybe get a little headache, but I rarely eat enough for that to happen. I live and die by the serving size.

My ankle is hurting a lot (the weather keeps changing) and I haven't felt like exercising this week. Last night, I took two Advil PM just so I would sleep through the night and not have the ankle wake me up as it has been every night about 2-3 AM. I made it to 5 AM.

A couple of days ago, I went to the closest Y, found out it was $100 to join and $55 a month, which I would call steep, especially since I just wanted to use the pool--and because I have a sneaking suspicion the $100 gets coughed up again if the monthly dues should lapse. It's $10 per use if you just pay as you go, which is just plain crazy. I need to check around some more. I finally got a bathing suit that works, which is good. I've thought about checking into gyms, but the smug, healthy people who frequent them tend to induce (my) vomiting. The Y has Silver Sneakers programs for seniors--they need to have WOG (Women of Girth, a term we coined in my support group) programs. (MOGs also welcome.) I've also heard us called "men/women of size", which seems goofy--everyone is of one size or another.

I have my advising appointment at the college tomorrow, and I'm hoping that gets me fired up again.

Career laxative

2010-04-16T21:09:00.001-07:00

I may have found an effective one--the informational seminar last night was great! After my initial fubar (driving down 405 in rush hour traffic, skipping an entire Mapquest step, realizing I was in the wrong city, turning back around and just barely making it on time), I felt really good being there, maybe even like I belonged there and this all might be happening for a reason. The material was interesting--from the nuts and bolts of their specific program to the history of the field to the occupational outlook to where the field might go in the future. I sat there and thought, "I think I could do this--I could be good at it and actually do this for a living for the rest of my working life." I've never thought that before, not once--not in any class, not in any interview or seminar or training I've attended. It made me--dare I say--hopeful. I was neither the oldest nor the youngest person there, and there were several people present who appeared to be more lost than I. I really liked the advisor, who was the main speaker, and I scheduled an appointment with her for next week. She helps the student plan the program and signs off on the completed certificate when the time comes to do so. The certificate can be done in a couple of quarters if you push it, but I'm going to try to do it in three or four. You don't get graded--you get evaluated, and much of the coursework involves building a portfolio so you go out into the workforce with that ready to go as your calling card. I'm excited--I want to start summer quarter if I can, and I see no reason why I can't. It will be tough on us because I won't have an income, but it seems like a really good investment. The projected job growth in the field is 18% between 2008 and 2018.

Cover letters and other lies

2010-04-15T13:36:00.000-07:00

I have applied for at least twenty jobs in the last couple of weeks. My neighbor is a writer and he asked me yesterday if I was doing any writing. I told him only if cover letters count, and they should--they drain my creative juices in a big way. (They make me feel cheap and dirty, too, but that's another issue--I never have liked the whole "sell yourself" paradigm.)

The job I've wanted the most thus far got a cover letter I would be forced to deem a masterpiece. After its completion, I made my Facebook status "if I believe the cover letter I just wrote about myself, I would not only hire me, I would marry me, clone me and leave me everything in the will."

My initial unemployment claim was denied because I didn't have enough hours in the base year. (The base year was funky and took place between 2008 and 2009. I don't get how they determine the base years and I'm not going to try--I get enough headaches as it is.) I have a pending appeal using an alternate, more recent base year. I'm keeping detailed records--the required job logs, printouts of job descriptions, etc. I spent $10.89 today to send a long-distance fax at Kinko's--it seemed a little steep, but I guess they have rent to pay, too. I haven't had any more interviews since the one I went on before my job ended, but I have found a few nice things to wear to interviews, which will definitely help with my confidence when I am called for another one.

This evening is the information session about the technical writing program I plan to attend. I'm trying not to be intimidated or freaked out, but I am a little of each. What if I go and I don't want to do it? Then, of course, there is everyone's favorite old friend--The Fear of Failure. I think the worst part of not working is that I have far too much time to sit around and ruminate. I have gotten a lot of home organization and important errands done and can come up with several other projects that need doing, but there's an awful lot of time left over to think. I hate feeling so adrift in my life.

I'm not gaining weight, but my ankle has been giving me fits so I haven't walked since last week. I did do part of an exercise DVD yesterday; I have a number of them, from Richard Simmons to Hip Hop Abs and a couple I got at Target that prominently feature perky women wearing bronzer. Richard Simmons is over the top, but I can't help but like him; people who knock him should try one of his workouts (I have no opinion about his infomercials, I have never watched them or bought those products). (As an unrelated side note, his appearance on "Whose Line Is It Anyway?" was one of my favorite episodes of that show.) I'm still trying to find a bathing suit I can live with and have yet another one en route from Ebay--I think I have to get in a pool because every other kind of exercise just ends up hurting too much. A long walk feels great when I'm doing it, but then I wake up in excruciating pain during the night for the next week--it just isn't worth it. Mr. Salted and I have come to the conclusion that we will find the money for me to exercise in a pool, whether I have an income or not. I hope this suit works. I do miss, even enjoy, being in the water. (I will enjoy it even more now that I've had Lasik and won't be floundering around blind!) Before and after actually I'm in the water, that's what isn't so easy.

My third wedding anniversary was yesterday. Mr. Salted and I went to our favorite getaway last weekend, or tried to--we got there and discovered the reservations were for this coming weekend and that we had messed up the dates. It is a long drive both ways, so we decided to get a cheap room at the local Econolodge and just go back again this weekend and have two getaways instead of one. He is so supportive, steady, loving, unwavering--just an incredible gift in my life, for which I am extremely thankful.

I am losing weight again!

2010-04-07T18:45:00.000-07:00

I saw 205.0 today on the scale--in the middle of the day, even. I may just see the 100s yet; I had just about given up, and the half-price Easter candy has been taunting me. It was especially gratifying because I weighed myself after a two-mile walk I had to force myself to go on in the cold wind. I've found a nearby park with a paved trail--it has distance markers and is mostly level, so I'm sold. There were, of course, lots of healthy hotshot types out there--woo and also hoo--but I try not to actively (ha) hate them because they're "beautiful"--it isn't any better than them hating me because I'm "not". I was quite annoyed, however, by some old guy (he resembled Moses, beard and all) that rode his bike past me slowly, physically brushing me when he had plenty of room to go around. He then doubled back, rode by and said something to me when I was on my way back to my car, which I couldn't make out--the music was up loud, and I flat refused eye contact. (I wear sunglasses whenever possible, but it was raining on and off today.) I freely acknowledge that I am easily irritated, especially when exercising (I'm sure that completely shocks anyone who has been paying attention) and/or having my dance space invaded (ditto). I also managed to organize my clothes and accessories, find a sports bra that fit at Target (it cost about 25% of what I've usually had to pay--go figure!), get laundry done, apply for a job, and talk to the unemployment people on the phone. They don't know if I'm going to qualify yet. I go to that informational evening class about the technical writing certificate next week, which also marks my third anniversary with Mr. Salted. I love losing weight!!!!

Everything, all the time

2010-04-03T20:03:00.000-07:00

My job ended. My grandmother got moved, and it sounds like it was a really tough experience for her, but that she is bouncing back a bit now. At any rate, she has a lot of support around her where she is, and it's a relief to know that. I didn't get the job I interviewed for, but they asked if they could keep my contact information for one they may have coming up. I spent my first day unemployed doing a lot of laundry, then attending a singalong showing of "Purple Rain" with a childhood friend. The movie was even worse than I remembered--but the music is, of course, amazing. It was a lot of fun. I also indulged in a little retail therapy with my last full paycheck. I went to Torrid and was pleasantly surprised that I'm now wearing size 18 in their pants, rather than straddling the barbed-wire fence between 18 and 20. I got a great pair of black Bermuda shorts with a big sugar skull design on one leg that I l-o-v-e. I had my picture taken with the Easter bunny for the first time, just for the hell of it.

I still need to apply for unemployment, but I think right now I'm just having the letdown period where I want to lay low and regroup--so I'll do it Monday.

Saturday 9: Hurts So Good

2010-04-03T19:45:00.000-07:00

1. Tell us about the last time you really got hurt.

Physically? Emotionally? By someone else, or myself? It sounds like a copout, but I need more specifics.

2. What's your oldest possession?

A couple of antique brooches and family photos.

3. Do you have any phobias?

Dolls, bees, and fire. I'm claustrophobic to an extent--hate tunnels. A lot.

4. What values did your parents instill in you?

I didn't have parents, but positive things that have been instilled along the way include: it feels good to do things for other people and be thoughtful, say please and thank you, work hard, appreciate what you have, and tell people you love them.

5. What are your plans for Easter?

Don't have any.

6. I like sun more than snow.

Not particularly true for me.

7. Tell us about 3 fads from your teenage years.
Swatch watches (never had one), huge perms (had too many), and way too many pastels, not to mention Bon Jovi.

8. Tell us what is the most important attribute in a lover.

Kindness. True kindness.

9. What new piece of technology have you resisted buying and what would it take for you to change your mind?

A plasma TV. I'll get one when the regular TV dies.

Let the angels sing.

2010-03-23T07:10:00.000-07:00

I am off my plateau. Only by half a pound, but I am OFF IT!!!!!

I had a really good job interview yesterday, and I am SO done taking crap at the job I am winding up now. I popped off to a high mucky-muck who was being an over-the-top assclown yesterday and it felt good. Damn good. The person I popped off to is (a) not my boss and (b) will have nothing to do with giving me any kind of reference, and he was just being rude (as he always is), but 99.9% of the people who work there just keep their mouths shut when he does it because they fear for their livelihoods. It wasn't a personal attack of any stripe, I simply made an observation that happened to be true about our work area after he found fault with its cluttered appearance (and not for the first time in my presence). Since I have no livelihood after a week from tomorrow, I am at quarter of give-a-shit--and I giggled all day. (Why can't they put that feeling in a pill?)

Stick a fork in me, you know? The organization I am leaving reminds me of an abusive boyfriend. Employees stay for years and years because they get so beaten down, thinking they can't do any better and maybe someday things will change (in part because they are always hearing things will change, but the crises never end). Managers don't stay, and every few years the worker bees get to break in a new regime and the cycle starts all over again, a la Sisyphus.

Life is too short.

Hunger and kindness

2010-03-16T19:28:00.000-07:00

I am getting hungry more often and eating larger portions (the largest portions being about a cup). I'm trying not to be paranoid about this--I have no desire to go back to full-blown eating-disorder-think, and I'm fairly certain I'm "normal" for seven months out from surgery. I don't keep a food journal at present (and I have no desire to, because it just feels punitive and therefore begs me to chafe against it), but I do try to keep a running tally throughout the day of approximate protein grams and calorie intake. I was told to try to stay at about 1500 calories a day, which I assume I am going to have to do for the rest of my life. Fine, fabulous, okay--I'm fine with that as long as I keep losing at some point. At present, I am still in plateau range, holding at 207-208 pounds--I have yet to see the scale go below 207. I'm only walking two days a week (about a mile at a time and at a brisk pace). I have the best of intentions in terms of stepping that up in the near future, but my ankle has been hurting quite a bit. With the stress of the next couple of weeks--job ending, interviewing and applying for new jobs, grandmother moving--I am not pressuring myself too terribly hard to make any extra changes until this month is over.

****

There is no quality in people (myself AND others) that I value more than kindness--actually, if I had to choose, it would probably be a tie between kindness and humor. After venting about wanting a technical writing certificate and how hard it would be for me to obtain it due to finances, a friend of mine offered to loan me the money--completely out of the blue. I was--AM--so touched, it is difficult to articulate my feelings.

I put myself through college (it took ten years for me to earn a B.A.; I started a Masters, but left after one quarter) with not one offer of financial help from anyone that I knew. It was a long, hard struggle--one I am still making payments on, but one I am also extremely proud of and wouldn't trade for anything in the world. I also hate (like fire) to borrow money or feel like I owe anyone for anything, EVER. However, this friend is the rare person it would not be awkward to accept a loan from. She cares about me, is generous and kind, and has no agenda whatsoever--I've known her for twenty years. (And seriously, on the whole, how often are we afforded such opportunities in life? Knowing people like this, knowing their hearts--it makes me a bit verklempt.)

I feel very calm, unusually Zen, about this particular situation. I think there are valuable lessons in it for me that go beyond "things happen for a reason". It's a telegram from the universe telling me once again to practice what I preach, in this case: when people are kind, it's okay to accept their kindness--and when they want to help, it's okay to accept their help. Acceptance of kindness and help does not make me less of a person--it invites me to become more of one. It opens my heart, it gives me hope, and it helps me to thrive so that I can put that much more positive energy and action out into the world.

Thank you.

Fatigued but strangely determined...

2010-03-14T16:31:00.000-07:00

I am making myself go out and walk even though my ankle has been hurting. It was really hard to do this morning, and I celebrated by doing basically nothing the rest of today. My weight remains exactly the !@#$%^& same. Grrrrrrr.

I feel a microscopic bit better because I have a job interview scheduled. I'm not terribly excited about the job itself, but one does what one has to do. I'm waiting for my last tax form so I can get the taxes done and file a FAFSA. I'm going to find a way to get a technical writing certificate, no matter what I have to borrow or sell.

Saturday 9: Gimme Three Steps

2010-03-14T16:19:00.000-07:00

1. Are you the type of person who jumps into new ventures or do you prefer baby steps?
Once I give it enough thought and research, I jump into it.

2. Who do you feel believes in you the most?
I have a handful of people who do; they know who they are. I am lucky to have as many as I do.

3. When was the last time you were on a stage?
When I got my BA.

4. Tell us about the worst boss you ever had.
Passive/aggressive woman who would screw me over and then bring me a gift.

5. If the NCAA Men's or Women's Final Four basketball tournament was played in your hometown arena or within easy driving distance from where you live, would you try to attend one the three games?
I don't do basketball.

6. Of all the clothes you own, what do you feel most comfortable wearing, and why?
Well-loved cotton T-shirt and lounge pants. Soft, loose, comfortable.

7. On what television show—either past or present—would you like to make to make a guest appearance, and what role would you play?

I would have loved to be anyone on "Roseanne" or "Veronica Mars".

8. St. Patrick's Day is on Wednesday March 17th. Do you celebrate and wear green? Drink Green Beer? Ignore it?

I wear something green so no moron tries to pinch me. I don't do beer of any color, and I'm not fond of corned beef and cabbage, but I've always wanted to go to a real Irish pub with a songbook.

9. If a leprechaun told you that you could have any amount of money from his pot of gold but it had to be a specified amount for a specified item, how much would you ask for and what would it be for?

Enough to pay off all our debt--credit cards and my student loan.

Frustration

2010-03-10T18:35:00.000-08:00

At this precise moment, I long to smash my shiny glass scale with a hammer.

I'm eating well. I make myself go out and walk regularly. My weight? It stays the same--or goes up a couple of pounds.

The curve on which I grade my own obsessive tendencies is definitely skewed, as I spent a sizable chunk of my life with an eating disorder. The number on the scale is annoying me, but not consuming me. Today, however, it's annoying me a lot more than usual.

That's probably because I'm annoyed about other things, like that my job is being eliminated. I know for a fact that my work is not only important, but an asset to their business. The people behind the elimination of this job ultimately have little to no idea what I do or what the impact of laying me off will be. (That's usually the way it works, isn't it?) I've always worked really hard for this agency; in 2008, I left a full-time job there after two years because I had so many stress-related medical problems (stomach issues, migraines, panic attacks). It had to almost kill me for me to quit, and even then, I quit reluctantly.

I came back part-time last summer because they would work around my schedule and because I really needed the money--I had one job as a blogger that only lasted a couple of months, so I went about ten months without any income. There was just nothing out there--I sent out hundreds of resumes and had a bunch of interviews. One of the reasons I actually went forward with weight-loss surgery was because of these circumstances--because I had time to fight the insurance company. Even though I went without working or drawing unemployment all that time, it was really like earning $25K because the weight-loss surgery was covered and only cost us about $5K out of pocket.

There doesn't seem to be much out there now in the way of jobs. At ALL. I don't know if I can get unemployment this time--I really hope I can, assume I can because my job is being eliminated, despite veiled hints that they "might" want me to come in and do a little work for them here and there as they figure out their whole restructuring scenario over the next few months. This is the ultimate frustration: this is all I'm worth?

I'm trying to figure out what to do next--what's actually feasible for me to do next. If I had my druthers, I would pursue a technical writing certificate/degree, and I'm looking into that--but funding is an obstacle.

I also wonder if I'm more likely to get hired now because I weigh less. It's a shallow world.

Craziness

2010-03-07T17:24:00.000-08:00

As life will do, everything hits at one time. My job is ending the last day of the month. It came as a bit of a shock, but at the same time was not unexpected--I just thought I would have a few more months as the place I work is moving into its busiest season. In classic style where upper management has no idea what its workers actually DO, their solution was to cut two (very busy and productive) jobs and create two new ones that are totally unrealistic and don't have much to do with where all the work needs to be done. I had hoped I would have more time to recover from both my surgeries before making any huge decisions about my career. I also hope I will qualify for unemployment, or it will be a real hardship. (I had been back there working for nine months, but only part-time.)

My grandmother is finally relocating to another state to be near her sons at the end of the month. I have been helping her pack and will be glad when everything there is finally taken care of--it will be a great load off my mind.

So my focus has been on getting through the rest of the month. I need to get our taxes done, figure out if I can apply for school, and look for work. I am extending my job search to a neighboring state as well, and frankly, it all exhausts me just thinking about it. I woke up sick today (migraine, sinus, etc.) and that didn't really surprise me, either. My body is nothing if not reliable for notifying me when it needs to slow down.

As far as my weight, things are chugging along. The number on the scale remains at 207. I've been walking, and am going to have to keep that (and workout DVDs I already have) as my workout regimen because I won't be able to afford to pay for pool use now. I feel great and am trying not to be too discouraged that my weight isn't changing. I'm fairly certain by the way clothes are fitting that I am still losing body fat. It's that shifting around stuff--it's hard to remain patient.

Best Picture Showcase, Vol. 2

2010-03-07T17:10:00.000-08:00

UP

Immediately became one of my favorite children’s movies of all time. Sweet, funny, original and touching.

A Serious Man

Worth seeing—fun and quirky—but not the Coen brothers’ best.

The Hurt Locker

A really fine movie. I loved its immediacy, both of action and emotion--the hand-held camera, the rawness, the grit.

An Education

A pleasant surprise. Carey Mulligan really deserved her Oscar nod. Thoroughly enjoyable, it never took the easy way out and reminds us of how far women have come—and haven’t come—since 1962.

District 9

Mr. Indra called it “a big bag of suck”, and this is usually his kind of film. I tried to see what it was doing, but it was too long, too loud, too violent and it seemed like it smashed several movies I’d already seen together and called it a new one.

How I rank the Best Picture nominees from best to worst:

Precious
Up
The Hurt Locker
An Education
Up in the Air
The Blind Side
A Serious Man
Avatar
District 9
Inglourious Basterds

I am (meme)

2010-02-28T12:36:00.000-08:00

I am: always asking questions
I think: I can do a lot more with my life
I know: that I am lucky
I have: a wonderful husband and friends
I dislike: promises
I miss: dreams I used to think were possible
I fear: that I'll never find work that I can stand that pays enough to survive
I feel: that not enough people truly acknowledge how debilitating depression is to live with every day
I hear: myself typing
I smell: red wild cherry tea
I crave: one of those sinless Smoothies from Coldstone that are made with Splenda...had one yesterday...DAMN they are good!
I usually: have what you need in my purse
I search: for meaning
I wonder: if I will ever finish a book
I regret: how I've treated myself
I love: my husband, friends, and animals
I care: more than I wish I did
I am always: the one who says, "Yeah, but what if...?"
I worry: too much
I remember: when you had to put way too much effort into your hair
I dance: solo preferably
I sing: all the time and don't care how I sound
I don’t always: have enough patience ;)
I argue: as little as I can, but I don't just shut up, either.
I write: when I have to
I lose: myself in books and movies
I wish: everyone could be fed, sheltered, and given free medical
I listen: to everything
I don't understand: why I haven't been able to figure out what I want to be when I grow up
I can usually be found: near a computer
I am scared: of health problems
I need: safety and security
I forget: nothing, sometimes unfortunately
I am happy: when I listen to myself and do what I need
I want: what I have with a couple extra things I'm still working on.

"I shouldn't be wearing white, and you can't afford no ring." --Dixie Chicks

2010-02-28T12:20:00.001-08:00

Due to my weight loss, my fingers have shrunk. A lot. I used to wear a size 10 ring--now I wear a size 8. My wedding band got so loose it would just fall off and I wouldn't even notice it. I wore it on the middle finger of my left hand until it fell off that one, too.

So, I went without any ring at all for a few weeks. It felt weird. For one thing, I am a compulsive ring-player-wither. I would swear that people looked at me differently, and I didn't care for it. Getting and being married is the most societally acceptable thing I've ever done, and since I have a great husband, I enjoy being societally acceptable for that one small aspect of life (usually I scoff at and rail against such things).

I didn't want to blow a ton of money on an interim ring--who knows, my fingers might shrink some more before all is said and done--so I replaced my favorite ring from the Pyramid Collection in my current size. This is it. It's Victorian vintage-inspired and only $59.99. Right up my alley.

South Beach bars

2010-02-28T12:12:00.000-08:00

I love South Beach bars. They have a lot of varieties that have high protein content--from 5 g to 15 g, as far as I know--all under 200 calories. It's a great snack or even a post-WLS meal replacement. I've been test-driving a lot of protein bars since surgery and I've liked all of them, but the ones that can be purchased from specialty bariatric sites or GNC tend to be more expensive than the South Beach bars and the protein content doesn't differ much, if at all. However, the selection of South Beach bars in stores is extremely hit or miss.

So, I got a wild hair the other day and Googled, and lo and behold, you can buy South Beach bars in bulk on Amazon.com! The average price is about 5 boxes for $26-27, which is less than you would pay in a store, even on sale or with a coupon. Buy a couple of boxes and the shipping is free. They also seem to have every variety under the sun, many I'd never seen anywhere. If you are a fan or want to try them out, get thee to Amazon!

Best Picture Showcase--Part One

2010-02-28T12:03:00.000-08:00

The AMC theater chain is doing this all over the country. Five of the Best Picture nominees yesterday, five next weekend. We'd never seen any of them. It was great--we want to do it every year, and go to more film festivals in general from now on.

Yesterday, we saw "Avatar", "Up in the Air", "Precious", "The Blind Side", and "Inglourious Basterds". My thoughts--the abridged version:

AVATAR: Visually, very interesting to look at. Plot sucked, and the movie was too long. The denouement fight sequence was like a root canal without nitrous and seemed to last forever. Not "Best Picture" material, IMO. Borrowed liberally from other movies and ideas, and technology shouldn't win Best Picture on its own. Special Effects, Visual Effects, cinematography, editing, sound, but not Best Picture.

Up in the Air: Liked this one a lot. Snappy dialogue. Ran out of gas a little in the last half or third, but I appreciated that it wasn't pat, it kept moving, and that it portrayed human frailty very effectively, though it didn't seem like much of a stretch for its fine actors. Second runner-up for my favorite of the day.

Precious: Absolutely amazing. Courageous. Has my vote for Best Picture so far (and Mr. Salted's!). It's far from comfortable, but these things happen to all kinds of people every day and these stories need to be told--and seen--for exactly those reasons, BECAUSE THEY MATTER. The acting was fabulous. I read the book when it came out in the '90s and wondered if a movie could do it justice. For once, it has. Mr. Salted summed it up perfectly: "A sucker-punch in the complacency." (It made me so proud that he is my husband.)

The Blind Side: good entertainment, way better than average, but still an "uplifting" (and from what I've read, rather sanitized-bordering-on-Hallmark-card) adaptation of a true story. I read an editorial that pointed out part of the value of "Precious" is that the movie presents Precious is worth saving simply because she is a human being, where "The Blind Side" presents Michael as worth saving because he is an exceptional athlete. While this does an injustice to the motives of the family portrayed in the "The Blind Side"--whose motives I believe were positive--the writer's point is well taken. "Precious" is a far better film. "The Blind Side" is definitely worth seeing, and Sandra Bullock (and everyone else) was great, but I don't think it was Best Actress--or Best Picture--material, as heartwarming as it was and as much as I loved all the characters.

Inglourious Basterds: we gave it 45 minutes and walked out. More masturbatory torture porn from Tarantino.

Walking and swimming

2010-02-21T14:56:00.000-08:00

I love walking. I only manage a mile twice a week right now because my ankle hurts for the next couple of days, but it feels great to be outside breathing the air, walking at my own pace with my iPod--I love to make special playlists with songs that are the perfect tempo--and my shades on so I don't have to engage with people. It also gets me out of the office, which is great. Sometimes I feel like my energy sinks down along with my posture in that office chair as the work day meanders on. I worked yesterday and had an epic case of the drag-ass, but forced myself to walk about a mile in the middle of my shift. My energy level definitely improved. I was still dragging toward the end of the day, but nowhere near as badly as I would have had I not gone out and walked.

I bought a bathing suit online--it was still a little too small in that annoying way where it fits, but I can't stand the way it looks for another ten pounds or so. (This applies to a lot of my clothes right now!) I'm saving it to use later and shopping for another. I found out I can hit a lap swim on the way to work on weekdays. Actual classes are all inconveniently scheduled, but fortunately, I love to swim laps.

I actually prefer to exercise alone. While I enjoy a nice walk with a friend, I like to set my own pace. I'm my only competition, and if you ask me, that's the way it should be when it comes to this--at least for me.

Saturday 9: Don't Stand So Close to Me

2010-02-21T14:16:00.000-08:00

1. Who would you like not to stand so close to you?

This woman I work with--fortunately I don't have to see her often. She makes my teeth itch, reeks like smoke, has an unironic mullet, and has no concept of personal space. She reminds me of a dog or cat that knows you hate it and responds by smothering you with unwanted love. Shudder.

2. Which of the following aspects of your life would you think rates the highest: mind, body or spirit?

Mind, no question. Wouldn't have survived and continue to thrive without it.

3. What is your favorite movie line?

It's a simple one, but "I wasn't even supposed to be here today!" from "Clerks".

4. What is your favorite movie title? I never really thought about it. They don't tend to be as creative as book titles can be.

5. What is something that has happened to you that you would consider a miracle?

My survival.

6. What do you try to stay away from?

#1: Drama, followed closely by bigotry and judgment.

7. What is it too late for?

Becoming a parent. Everything else is still possible.

8. Give someone credit for something and name it if you can.

My dearly departed best friend is almost entirely responsible for me learning that, despite what I experienced from birth through my teens, all men are not a@*holes. I am still extremely grateful to him for that.

9. Would you rather be famous now & forgotten after you die or forgotten now & famous after you die, forever? And why?

I don't think being famous would be all that great, so I guess famous after I die. That way a mythology could build up around my fabulousness. I won't care anymore, but it would be cool to be part of a cultural mythology.

Classifications--who needs 'em?

2010-02-14T17:27:00.000-08:00

In my previous post, I neglected to mention part of the conversation with my bariatric surgeon that remains stuck in my craw several days after the fact. I walked right into it, too, by asking him if I was still considered morbidly obese.

"No," he said, looking at his monitor. "Now you're considered 'severely obese'. Then comes 'obese', then 'overweight'."

"What would I be classified as if I reach 150 pounds?" I pressed, a glutton for punishment until the bitter end.

"You'd be considered 'overweight'," he said, adding a little eye roll that did not go unappreciated.

I wish this surprised me, but when I weighed 150 in my teens, people told me I was fat all the time. I'd love to go back in time and smack them all, and sometimes I actually do this in my head--kind of a Wile E. Coyote home movie--to lull me off to sleep instead of counting sheep. (I always sleep better than usual when I use this method of drifting off, too, but I digress.) I know a lot of adult women who would love to weigh 150, and when I look at pictures now, I looked good at that weight--curvy and healthy.

This kind of thing--the classifications of obesity--has historically been the kind of thing that can really trip me up if I let it. Well, I'm not going to let it. I don't know what made me ask the question. If you feel good, if you look good, if you're eating healthy and exercising, who cares what your classification is? I've always been shaped like a freakin' potato, even as a little kid. Such is life.

The more I think about it, the more I see that classifications of any kind aren't anyone's friend. Few are complimentary, much less insightful, in any way--they don't say squat about who a person really is. I could be classified as middle-aged, fat, barren, mentally ill, underemployed, and a host of other things that don't have a whole lot to do with who I really am.

6-month follow-up with bariatric surgeon

2010-02-09T19:00:00.000-08:00

It was today, and it was uneventful. Their scale is five pounds heavier than the one at home, and their new nurse said, "You've lost 45 pounds?" and I refrained from saying, "Re-do the math, Zippy". I've lost about 70, about 90 since my highest weight.

The doc wasn't concerned about my plateau and said I was about where he would want me to be. He also amended his previous statement that I could start planning plastic surgery a year out from the gastric bypass procedure and that he expected it would take me 18 months to two years to lose the optimum amount of weight. That wasn't entirely unexpected, but it made me think I might have to start fixing my career problems or lack thereof sooner rather than later. Sigh.

I had a nice afternoon visiting with an old friend of mine, and we had lunch at a restaurant called California Pizza Kitchen. I must put in a plug for them, as they have a menu of small entrees that are the perfect size for post-WLS folks!! They're very reasonable as well. I had "the Wedge Salad", which was a simple one--lettuce, blue cheese dressing, bacon and tomatoes, and it was only $4.95. The rest of their menu looked great as well. Check them out!

Ten Things That Make Me Happy

2010-02-08T19:45:00.000-08:00

...just because.

1. The people I love and that love me.

2. My cats--they are sweet, beautiful and funny. I didn't get to have pets growing up, so I really enjoy having them now.

3. Taking pictures.

4. Feeling better all the time now that I'm losing weight.

5. Having a paycheck coming in even though it's not my ideal situation.

6. Traveling, whether it's a road trip or a cruise--I just love going somewhere I want to go.

7. Words, words, words.

8. Music

9. Comedy, whether it comes from me or someone else.

10. Dogs--I can't have one right now, but I hope to someday.

6-month nutritionist appointment

2010-02-07T18:17:00.000-08:00

I had my six-month appointment with the nutritionist a few days ago. I was two pounds lighter at home than I was in their office, which completely annoyed me. If I take the weight I was at home (which I do, dammit), I lost five pounds in the last month, so the plateau I'm on isn't as bad as I thought. Also, slo-w-o-o-o-owly, clothes are still becoming too big, bit by bit. If I take the weight I was at home (which I'm going to, just because--it was 208), I've lost about 70 pounds now.

The nutritionist said I was doing really well. My labs were all good, except my cholesterol remains a little high--but I did just start exercising and the ankle isn't yet tolerating more than once or twice a week. We talked at length about protein, which I am still using in supplement form three times a day. She said, "Maybe you should try to eat more 'real' food."

OK, WTF? I can't exactly eat a lot of 'real' food. I don't cook. I don't have a family to feed, so I can just have a protein bar or bullet or drink for a meal replacement if I want to. If I'm getting in all my vitamins and minerals, losing weight and have good labs, why should she care what I eat? Sometimes I have a couple of bites of my husband's 'real' food, and I try to eat things with protein whenever possible--cheese, chili, etc. Feh.

She was also ruminating about my protein bullets of choice--she is trying to research whether or not they contain the type of protein that actually 'counts'--but my labs had fabulous results for protein. I was happy to discover that my local Wal-Mart carries a protein bullet I can use (and which is almost a dollar cheaper apiece than anywhere else I've seen) in their pharmacy area, but I started buying the Body Choice ones directly from the manufacturer (the ones that used to be at Costco, but that have been recently discontinued). Body Choice also sent me a freebie, a large bottle (a quart or so) of liquid protein that has 20 grams for every six tablespoons. It doesn't taste too bad.

My favorite ready-to-drink remains the Believe drinks--they look like bottled Starbucks Frappuccinos. There is no gritty texture--they are extremely smooth and don't taste like a protein drink. As of now, they come in Italian Cappuccino, Mocha Latte' and Soothing Chai Tea, and they can be ordered from BariatricEating.com. They're not cheap, though, especially when shipping costs are factored in.

I see the bariatric surgeon for the six-month follow-up Tuesday.

Plateau--it's not just a song Nirvana once sang!

2010-01-31T18:54:00.000-08:00

I seem to be on an endless plateau. Wow. My weight has been the same for over a month. I started walking last week and yet, here we still are.

One of my friends--who happens to be a nurse--informed me recently that a weight plateau can last for a year. (A YEAR??? Someone, please tell me this is not so.) She said some reasonable stuff that made sense, like that your body hits plateaus (plateaux?) so it can get used to the weight it is now before it can go on and lose some more weight. I can buy that, I suppose. But a YEAR??? If I just stall here for another eleven months, I am going to be sore discouraged.

My fear is, of course, that this is about what I weighed in my early 20s and that I'm not going to get any smaller. As much as I'm glad I had the surgery and say "even if I don't lose any more weight, it was worth it," I really want to lose the rest of the damn weight. As far as I'm concerned, I'm only halfway there.

Haven't blogged in a while...

2010-01-26T17:54:00.000-08:00

...because I haven't had much to say, or the energy to say it. Someone I care about a great deal has been missing since early this month, and I have been thinking and worrying about him a lot. I've also been working quite a bit and finally succumbed to a migraine I've been fighting for a week today.

I've been frustrated with my weight, because I haven't lost much of late. (Today I weighed in at 210.) Even though my weight isn't changing much, I am still transitioning gradually into my smaller clothes. I am trying not to be annoyed by sizing weirdness (some size 20 jeans can still be snug, but my stretchy pants are 14/16s with plenty of room). Amazingly, my feet seem to have shrunk! I can wear a size 8 now. I don't think I need wide or extra-wide width anymore, either, which is tremendous.

I've started to exercise a couple of times a week. I've done aerobics once (made it through the warm-up, but that was all I could manage as of now). I've had more success doing some walking. The walking results in my ankle hurting pretty badly for days afterward, but it feels good to be outside, getting fresh air and moving. I am just taking it easy and going day by day right now.

Costco discontinued my favorite protein bullets (Body Choice 25g Protein Shots), which I am not happy about. I can order them directly from the manufacturer, but the base cost is 25% higher than it was at Costco and there's shipping to boot. I've tried several other protein bullets, but haven't liked the taste as well or couldn't choke them down at all. Since I put three supplements (chromium, niacin, vitamin D) into protein bullets so I can get them down every day, having some around that I can tolerate is important. Costco still carries Muscle Milk Light, but I've lost my taste for it. They also have the Premier Nutrition high protein chocolate shakes that are 30mg protein--which I prefer to Muscle Milk Light--but I have become much more sensitive to milk than I once was. (The surgeons and nutritionists told me that was a possibility, so I knew that going in.) I wouldn't call myself lactose-intolerant per se, but I would say I was definitely bordering on it, so I am very careful. I've also noticed that emptying supplement capsules into the milk-based protein drinks doesn't work too well--the capsule contents tend to clump up.

I tried the sugar-free margarita mix made by Zilch Mixers--it's great. It can be purchased directly from Zilch Mixers or on the Bariatric Eating website. I will definitely be taking some to Vegas with me in the spring!

Saturday 9: I Think We're Alone Now

2010-01-26T17:34:00.000-08:00

1. What celebrity in a fantasy would you like to be alone with?

Robert Downey Jr.

2. Have you ever dated a good friend?

Yes.

3. What is the most embarrassing song that you like?

It would probably be by Britney Spears. I like working out and dancing to her music. I don't claim it's of any musical value, it's just fun.

4. What is your favorite tearjerker movie?

"The Fisher King"...I don't know if it's supposed to be a tearjerker, but it is for me when Robin Williams' character is getting well.

5. What about yourself makes you least secure?

The way I look.

6. Do you believe in destiny?

To a degree, yes.

7. What 'issue' do you think your opinion is so right about that you end up trying to sway others to your point of view?

I don't waste my time doing that, and I wish more people wouldn't bother. For me, it is a matter of respect for both others and myself. I want to speak my piece and for people to make up their own minds, and I expect others to show me the same courtesy.

8. What are 5 things you don't care about?

Organized religion, football, vapid reality-show "stars", trying to make others agree with me, pleasing everyone.

9. Have you ever been in a situation where you weren't sure if you were seducing or being seduced?

Sure. Who hasn't? :)

"We're cutting you loose."

2010-01-16T22:14:00.000-08:00

This is what my ankle doctor said to me at my final post-op appointment earlier this week. "Everything looks great, it sounds great, you can opt to have physical therapy or you can give it more time, you can start working out or you can give it more time. It's all up to you."

I thrilled to the sound of that, because I am a good deal happier when things concerning me are also up to me. If they are not up to me, I try very hard to make them become up to me PDQ. And hilarity ensues. Or not.

We chatted then about working out. "Three times a week would be optimum for you to work up to," he said.

This statement was so reasonable, so grounded in actual reality, that I nearly swooned. If I had a dollar for every time some scrubs-clad nimrod with a sheepskin and a stethoscope has chastised me, "YOU SHOULD BE EXERCISING EVERY DAY (invisible hot-pink neon sign flashing: you fat, lazy sack of skin)!" I could afford to take a couple of luxury cruises every year for the rest of my natural life on Earth.

Refraining from any personal declarations of undying love, I then asked, "Can you talk to some other doctors I know? Can I give you their numbers? Please?" He laughed, but nodded too. I expanded on my experiences with such doctors and he rolled his eyes and appeared visibly annoyed. "I don't know why they do that," he said.

He related that his wife wanted them to start doing cardio together and that he had agreed, saying, "Great, I'm all for it. Just not every day." His wife persisted-- positive they should do cardio every day--but he stood his ground and said, "No way. We'll burn out."

EXACTLY.

Most people do not exercise every day. Not even thin people. Many thin people actually never exercise at all. For instance, I happen to be married to a man who has never in his life--not once--exercised on purpose. Yes, he has an active job, but it has not always been thus--and yet, he has always been thin. I know many others like him, just as I know many large people who exercise regularly and remain large.

Exercise is a wonderful thing--in theory if not always in practice. It has a multitude of well-documented and rather obvious health benefits, and we should all be doing it regularly to the best of our ability--but that doesn't mean it needs to happen every day. Furthermore, exercising every day is not a realistic expectation-- particularly if you hate, dread, and have to force yourself to do it.

My ankle doctor and I agreed on this very thing. In those exact words. It was an absolutely lovely conversation that validated several thousand moments of frustration I have weathered throughout my entire life. It was definitely worth the co-pay! I joked (with Freud's seed of truth heavily present) that one shouldn't exercise every day for the simple fact that one should have not exercising to look forward to, and he agreed with that, too. Sometimes one is coming down with a cold, has a thousand other things to do, or doesn't want to go out in the horizontal rain. Sometimes one just doesn't freakin' want to!

This is not a moral failing, this not wanting to exercise every day. I suspect I am not the only person who would be happy to receive external validation of this fact from a certified medical professional. Whether I weigh 98 pounds or 398, I have the right to say, "You know what? I don't feel like it today."

So--doctors, haters, clueless wonders--put that in your juice box and suck it.

5-month follow-up with nutritionist

2010-01-08T17:20:00.001-08:00

....was yesterday. My regular nutritionist is back after having a baby four months ago. It was good to see her again. She is rail thin and shows no signs of having had a baby (she has two kids) and I look like I could have birthed four or five. I try mightily not to hold this against her.

It was an uneventful appointment. I had only lost a pound according to their scale (I've been as much as three pounds lighter on mine), but she didn't seem too concerned due to (a) the holidays and (b) the ankle. (I see Dr. Ankle next week, when he will probably clear me to work out. The ankle feels pretty good most of the time now. That whole the-scar-tissue-is-breaking-up painful interlude lasted 3 to 7 days just like he said it would, and I weathered it without Demerol.) She did tell me I should be doing upper-body workouts. You know what? I'm not in the mood. I'll start the whole thing when I start the whole thing.

I told her I wasn't working with the exercise physiologist because it goes against everything in my being. "I'm kind of a self-cleaning oven of a person," is how I put it. "I don't take orders well."

"How will you be accountable?" she asked. I have noticed this is a common theme that gets brought up a lot and that these nutritional coaching types are very concerned with: Being Accountable.

"I'm accountable to me," I said. She looked quizzical. I pressed, "I just AM."

Aren't we all? AAAGGGGGGHHHHH! This is something that really annoys me. The last time I checked I was the only one living in my body every day. Free will? Personal responsibility? They can happen (and should be exercised a lot more often). I wanted (and unfortunately, needed) the tool of bariatric surgery and had the good fortune to acquire it. Now that I have it, barring some unforeseen medical oddity (God forbid), my weight loss is my responsibility. If I gain the weight back or stop losing altogether, it's because I didn't do what I was supposed to do. I don't want star stickers on a !@#$%^&* calendar. I don't want to weigh in in front of people. I don't want to compete with anyone. Competing with other people, or some elusive nonexistent ideal, is what gets many of us in trouble in the first place. Groups work for some people, but generally, I am not one of them. I tend to loathe groupthink and buck against it, simply because it is groupthink.

"Were you guilted as a child?" she asked me.

Well, yeah. Yeah, I was. Constantly. I basically didn't feel I deserved the very oxygen I breathed. But what does THAT have to do with THIS?

"You don't want to disappoint people," she assumed aloud. "You want everyone to like you."

Ahem. No. I would definitely be far more successful in business if this were true. Most people are not worth the time or energy it would take to actively seek their approval. I don't want to disappoint the people I care about, but I do. People I care about disappoint me, too, on a fairly regular basis. It's called being human. If my upbringing taught me anything, it taught me it was well nigh impossible to make another human being happy. It was ultimately a good thing--though often a harsh thing--to learn that as early in life as I did. I also learned it was up to me to make myself happy and yes, be accountable to myself. When no safety net exists, you learn to stop expecting one to be there after the wind gets knocked out of you a time or two.

On a lighter note, I was getting ready to go out recently and found myself singing "Lumpy Lady" to the tune of "Foxey Lady" a la Jimi Hendrix. That struck me funny. (At least I can laugh about it now instead of insisting on wearing clothes four sizes too big, bingeing, and/or feeling like crap.)

Saturday 9: Call Me

2010-01-08T16:52:00.000-08:00

1. Who is someone that phones you routinely that you never seem to be up to talk to, but you are not ready to push them out of your life?

I don't really have any of those anymore. Thankfully.

2. What is something that affects you deeply, to your core, no matter your mood or what else is going on in your life?

Hate crimes. Racism. Homophobia. Domestic violence. Rape. Torture. People losing children and grandchildren, children losing their parents prematurely. Incest. Animal cruelty. Homelessness. Poverty. Hunger. I am not a social worker for a reason.

3. Tell us of something that relaxes you and always makes you happy.

A hug from someone I love. A cup of tea. My cats. Quiet.

4. If you could take the train from anywhere to anywhere, where would 'anywhere' be?

I think I'd take a train all over Europe. I've never been there.

5. If you could look into the future, how far down the road would you like to see? 10 years? 100 years? A million?

All of the above. It would be interesting.

6. Did you do your shopping online for this Christmas, how did it go? Did things come in on time? Any significant failures? ...and if you didn't, will you consider trying online shopping sometime this year?

I shop online routinely. I didn't have any problems at Christmas. I love online shopping--as a friend of mine says, "I'd get my hair cut online if I could."

7. What people or projects are worth your time, money or effort?

The people in my life that are know who they are. In terms of charities, I have many that I like to support, including public television, Habitat for Humanity, Planned Parenthood, the Humane Society, VFW, Alzheimer's Association, etc.

8. Think back when you were in high school. Are you proud of the way you dressed, or do you wish you could go back and change it all?

I dressed pretty wack at times, but some of that was because I didn't have money and/or a mom and some of it was because I was figuring out who I was. I don't really regret it. I wish I hadn't gotten so many perms before I figured out I was never going to have thick, wavy hair, though.

9. Do any of your friends, family or co-workers know about your blogs? For those that do, did you tell them or have they stumbled upon it by themselves?

I have told most of the people I know where it is.

Happy New Year!

2010-01-03T14:59:00.000-08:00

I ring in 2010 at 211 pounds, so I have lost 63 pounds since surgery and 85 since my highest weight. I had a wonderful, long, crazy, boozy evening with old friends I've known since grade school that I love as family, and I could not have had a better time. Boozy was permissible due to Baja Bob's sugar-free (sweetened with Splenda) sour apple martini mixer. Hooray!! (As for the morning after, I'm encouraged by how many coffee places have sugar-free options as well.) We played Rock Band and I sang--or I should say, "sang"--a LOT, everything from Nirvana "Drain You" to Survivor "Eye of the Tiger". I'm hoping whatever recording devices were present didn't pick up too much embarrassing footage...

I took a ton of pictures, and while they were fun and I enjoyed them, it was discouraging for me to see (a) how large I still am and (b) how many chins I still have. Sigh. Part of life, and I'm trying not to focus on it. I've made a lot of progress in a short time, but I am far from a patient woman.

Deep cleansing breaths....

2009-12-27T19:49:00.000-08:00

Ahhhhhhhhhhh. It's been an exhausting couple of weeks. I've worked every hour my employer would approve; I've also had a lot of other things to take care of outside of work. The nature of Mr. Salted's job is such that he is a missing person during the holidays, so I pick up the slack out of necessity. It's always a relief to have it just be over.

Food has been a challenge this last month or so, as one would expect. It is everywhere, in large quantities, and damn near impossible to avoid. At work, whatever chocolate-coated pile of toxicity is to be had resides right next to the fax machine, which I use frequently. I tried to stick to sugar-free things whenever possible, but I did have a cookie or piece of chocolate (or two) here and there. I definitely felt ooky once or twice, but I have still never had sugar cause full-blown dumping syndrome. This is both good and bad, as I now know my system will tolerate at least a small portion of foods that contain sugar. Feeling ooky and the looming possibility of dumping syndrome keeps me from truly bingeing on sugar. The maltitol and sorbitol in sugar-free sweets has actually caused more discomfort for me than sugar itself has (though I have to admit I eat a larger portion of the sugar-free stuff--whatever the package says a serving is).

I also seem to feel hungrier more often than I did initially--not just for sugar, but in general. Dry meat, bread and grease are my worst enemies, so I avoid them. I used to love almonds and cashews, but nuts have lost their luster. I'm still getting most of my protein from beans, peanut butter, or supplements. I have noticed an increased lactose intolerance when it comes to milk, though cheese, cottage cheese and sour cream have not been a problem. I have also been drinking diet soda--though not a great deal, and not every day. Lately I've been drinking several cups of hot tea with Stevia every day, which I enjoy and which makes me feel full. I used to hate hot tea, but I've found some really good flavors lately. I think my favorites are Celestial Seasonings Bengal Spice, and Gypsy Tea Gingerbread Chai.

I haven't gained any weight, but I am a little worried. It is coming off so slowly now, and I still haven't been cleared to work out yet. I feel a little panicky that I'm more hungry and that I know I can eat some sugar. I'm also a bit freaked out by the way my body is changing. Mr. Salted observed that I probably haven't been through anything remotely like this since puberty. He has a point--and no wonder I get neurotic, because my puberty was H-E-L-L. (Don't get me wrong--I don't think anyone's adolescence is any picnic--but I was one of those unfortunate little girls that was visibly developing in the second grade. It was extremely scary at the time, not just because I couldn't control what my body did, but because of the way the world seemed to react--what felt like the whole world seemed not only all too aware of what was happening, but just as uncomfortable with it as I was.)

As I type and articulate this, it begins to make total sense that my world feels full of triggers at the moment. Once again, I am in a transitional period where I can't control what my body does--it loses weight, but only from where it damn well wants to. I've lost 62 pounds, but I'm not proportionate. I can see the loose skin thing happening in the near future, as certain regions are feeling a bit deflated as of late.

There are also the things people say. "Even your head looks smaller," one friend told me. (???) People will say "hey, skinny," which, of course, was a taunt I heard many times growing up. I know the people I know now mean well, but it feels weird--not only am I far from skinny, but I seriously doubt that even my skeleton is skinny. "You're really a petite woman," I've heard more than once since surgery, or "I never knew how tiny you were." I saw some friends on Christmas Day that I hadn't seen since before I had surgery. "You look fantastic," one of them said. Later, when I was walking to the restroom, I heard him repeat to Mr. Salted, "she looks fantastic." Even when it is positive, it is still so, so hard for me to hear my looks being discussed like I can't hear what is being said. I have to remind myself constantly: I'm not thirteen years old, and it's not malicious. Being steeped in dissociation from my body since I can remember, I myself have also been heard to remark, "I don't know what is under there." (Read: I don't know what the body under the fat is like.)

And I don't.

cats

2009-12-27T19:37:00.000-08:00

We dumped our old couch and inherited a chair-and-a-half from my boss last weekend. I have always wanted a chair-and-a-half--they are the perfect size for curling up on if you're short and a curling up type--I happen to be both. (This morning, for instance, I was curled up with a cup of tea, reading Stacey O'Brien's "Wesley the Owl".) I put the blanket on it during the day to deflect some of the copious amounts of cat hair that naturally occur on everything we possess. When I came home from work one day last week, they were doing this. Floyd and Nunzio are in the back; Mr. Stash is in the front. Mr. Stash was rabbit-kicking the little cover from the arm of the chair, but he stopped just long enough for me to snap this photo--then he jumped off and ran away.

Sunday Stealing

2009-12-27T19:19:00.000-08:00

1. What did you do in 2009 that you'd never done before?

Lost more than fifty pounds.

2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I don't believe in them. They're made to be broken.

3. How will you be spending New Year's Eve?

With my Mr. and some dear childhood friends that are more like family.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

No.

5. What countries did you visit?

I made it out of state once, but otherwise stayed pretty close to home.

6. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009?

More stable employment and therefore more money.

7. What date from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

The day I had the bariatric surgery--August 3, 2009

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Other than the work I did around the surgery, weight loss and lifestyle changes, I didn't achieve much...but it felt like enough.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Remaining my own worst enemy, and I wouldn't call that a failure, just part of being a human being.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

The aforementioned bariatric surgery and an ankle repair surgery in October, which is still healing.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

Lots of books and lots of clothes.

12. Where did most of your money go?

Other than the books and clothes, it went to bills and various and sundry vitamin and protein supplements. And copays.

13. What song will always remind you of 2009?

Anything by Lady GaGa.

14. What do you wish you'd done more of?

I wish I could have had more fun, but I did pretty well.

15. What do you wish you'd done less of?

I wish I hadn't had to miss so much stuff when I was recovering from surgeries.

16. What was your favorite TV program?

"Breaking Bad"

17. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Hate is a waste of time and energy.

18. What was the best book you read?
"Columbine" was really good, and so was "Olive Kitteredge".

19. What was your greatest musical discovery?
I dunno, I discover music constantly and it's not always new.

20. What was your favorite film of this year?
"The Wrestler" was great.

21. What did you do on your birthday?

Went to the Northern Oregon Coast

22. What kept you sane?

Prescription drugs, my spouse, my friends, the words I wrote and read, going to the WA & OR coasts

23. Who did you miss?

I will always miss Jeff.

24. Who was the best new person you met?

I didn't meet anyone new, but I got to reconnect with people from the past (thank you, Facebook) and that was wonderful--both fun and therapeutic.

25. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2009:

There were two: (a) food is not my friend, and (b) no one gets to live in my head rent-free.

still losing!

2009-12-20T15:26:00.000-08:00

I lost two more pounds this week. This makes me very happy, since I have been testing my limits a bit--not bingeing or going crazy, but experimenting with food as part of the process of seeing what my system can tolerate. I tried a sliver of pumpkin pie without a problem, but I cannot eat a French fry or part of a grilled cheese sandwich. I can eat half a McDonald's hamburger (an occasional guilty pleasure). Any kind of soft bread, part of a bagel, is a no-no. This whole process remains a learning curve.

I hit a great big sale at Old Navy with a friend on Friday. It is so cool to be able to go into a store like that and buy myself decent clothes that are cheap--I can't even express how cool. They didn't have stores like that when I was growing up, at least not in this area. Plus-size stores were full of clothes that were appropriate for 70-year-olds only, and there was no Target. After my Old Navy shopping spree, I came home with about ten shirts and hoodies for myself, two for Mr. Salted--a huge bag of clothes for $120. Plus or super-size women would be hard-pressed to purchase two or three decent-quality articles of clothing for that amount. I will not miss the fat tax!

I had to go to Costco today for protein bullets. They have them for the cheapest price I've seen. I can hear you saying, Costco the Sunday before Christmas, are you inSANE? No, but I do need protein. I arrived shortly after the store opened--the place was already chock full o' lemmings. I kept my head down, a determined grimace on my face, and kept mentally repeating the words, "reconnaissance mission". (I don't know if that's truly the proper term, but it's French and sounds cool.) I swooped in and gathered my case of water, presliced apples for Mr. Salted's lunch, his coffee, three cases of protein bullets--the essentials. Everyone else had decadent delicious food piled in their carts, hemming and hawing about whether or not Aunt Madge would like these slippers, completely unaware of anyone else's personal space or existence in the universe. I made it in and out of there in half an hour--ankle throbbing, patience gone.

I am not a fan of the season of unreason. I despise, loathe and resent Forced Holiday Fun, both with relatives and at work, and so choose to participate in neither. I like giving gifts to a few people, and I played Santa for a family I know this year who needed a little TLC, which felt fantastic to do. I enjoy doing cards, so I do quite a few of them. I also love getting pictures of everyone with their families and/or animals--that's probably my favorite part of the entire holiday. The rest of it I can take or leave and would frankly prefer to leave. I'm SO ready for it to be over--yesterday.

Beef, hair,and sexy boots

2009-12-15T18:01:00.000-08:00

I am a dedicated carnivore, particularly when it comes to red meat--or I used to be. I attempted to have a few (what I considered very small and thoroughly chewed) bites of Mr. Salted's steak a few nights ago and paid for it for the next couple of days. Not in any terribly disgusting ways that would offend the sensibilities of others if I described them--it just felt like I had a board lodged horizontally across my chest cavity for a couple of days. Logic tells me this means that the steak got stuck in the pouch. It was an extremely uncomfortable feeling physically, so much so that sleep was impossible that night. As the next day or two wore on I stuck mostly to protein drinks and very soft things, thinking they might help everything move on through. It took a full 48 hours to feel okay again. It scared me a little--I was getting ready to call the surgeons, but thankfully giving it time to work itself out seems to have been the right thing to do.

I found out at my nutritionist appointment a few days that most post-operative hair loss occurs from month three to month seven. (For those keeping score at home, this is month four.) As if on a time release, I blow-dried my hair the next day, looked down and was coated in my own hair--I had to lint-roll my shirt. Having three cats, there are lint rollers aplenty chez moi, but I was a tad freaked out. However, I am a big believer in keeping perspective, and the patented SaltedWithShadows technique in this instance included a gentle reminder that several people I know--all my age or younger--have had cancer in the last couple of years. All of them lost their hair at some point during their treatment, and one of them eventually lost his battle with the disease. In the end, I'm grateful for not only the obvious, but that I have hair at all (I have never had much hair, or favorable hair genes).

Today was an interesting day. I had to see my ankle doctor, who did not clear me to start working out--he wants to give it another month, even though the x-rays and ankle look like they are healing very well. (I joked that he gets better-looking every time he says, "Don't exercise for another month", although not to his face! I didn't want to scare the poor man.) I had on a new black dress, brooch, leopard-print tights, and new-to-me black leather boots--they come up to mid-calf. I had completely forgotten how confident boots make me feel--I haven't had a pair in probably twenty years. The recent U2 song about sexy boots annoys me, but I today I remembered a song from high school days that the Jesus and Mary Chain did that had the line, "I feel so quick in my leather boots/there's nothing else but me." (I don't remember the song title, but it was on the "Psychocandy" album.)

I always personally found boots a lot sexier than heels (in part because uncomfortable does not spell sexy to Salted and boots have never made me think of foot-binding or gotten my feminist hackles in a twist, unless they are those thigh-high stripper things with the ridiculous heels, which are not sexy at all in my book). Boots feel--and can sound--pleasantly powerful when you walk in them. I don't find the power of a domineering nature, but more of a confident one--the sound says, "Here I am. I feel good, and I'm not hiding".

Hiding is a theme/battle/motif/albatross with me (and with a lot of people that have body image issues, I would imagine). I have spent most of my life actively hiding myself physically. I have always preferred my clothes to be a size or two too big--I liked feeling lost in them, never caring how it might look because it made me feel safer. Ultimately, I never got to be "pretty"--and if I was indeed ever "pretty" (some men do like their jelly to jiggle), I never got to really enjoy it. I think I was finally ready to have this surgery and go through this process because, for whatever reason, I was able to deem it safe--in part because of my age. I have done and am still doing the work mentally and emotionally to make this process a healthy and viable option for long-term health. The operative word here for me is work: I know in my bones that I will always be doing some work somewhere on some layer of my being when it comes to this; the work never stops. I am hit with the work aspect of this in some fashion every day now--it is not comfortable to have people remarking on how I look all the time when I spent the last forty years hoping no one would remark on how I looked, at all, EVER. Even though 98% of the people in my immediate orbit are--thus far--supportive and complimentary, I still steel myself and wait for stones to be thrown, hoping the inevitable accompanying wince isn't visible on the outside.

"Enjoy your body."

2009-12-12T07:21:00.001-08:00

I saw the nutritionist on Thursday. I was fifteen minutes late, which sucked, and she was rushed, but I think I'm a fairly easy patient now, being on point with the weight loss and not needing much in the way of guidance. I lost eight pounds in the last month. It had been thirteen the month prior, but she assured me that the pace with which it is being lost is normal or better than normal, particularly considering that I still haven't been cleared for physical therapy or working out. (I see the ankle specialist next week, and am wondering how that's all going to play out. I went to a trade show a few days ago where we walked around quite a bit and my ankle is still a bit sore from that.) I also discovered sugar-free candy from Harry and David, who have handily replaced Ben and Jerry in my heart--damn these dangerous men and their delicious concoctions! Thankfully, sugar-free candy does have that built-in deterrent in the form of its sweeteners, which have an adverse effect on anyone who overindulges in them. The warnings are on the packaging: "may have a laxative effect".

My nutritionist talked about the long-term importance of body sculpting and strengthening the core. "I want 2010 to be the year of the core for you," she said. I have long since established that I was in the bathroom when they were passing out the core--and besides, core is literally a four-letter word. The word "core" in the context she uses belongs in the same category as "team building", "holiday party", "three-legged race", "bridal shower" and "colonoscopy" in the English language lexicon for me. In short: eyes will be rolled; faces will be made.

I countered with, "2010 is going to be the year of having fun again." (Because it is!) If I can make myself stick to a workout regimen, ANY workout regimen, that will be the victory. I certainly don't see myself doing sit-ups until I vomit.

Her eyes got wide when she asked me if I was eating really good food. Food isn't anything I consider all that good. When you can have a few bites, how good can it be, and seriously, who cares? I have a lot of supplements to get in and that takes precedence. I told her the majority of my protein comes from the bullet supplements. I have heard that a lot of people stop using them, but I don't see myself doing that anytime soon. They are easy enough to choke down and I want to make my RDAs. Hair loss apparently happens predominantly from month 3 to month 7, according to a handout she gave me; I thought it was only month 2 and 3, so imagine my joy at this news. It is month four, and I have noticed more hair in the brush than usual, but I don't think it's enough to be noticeable to anyone but me. (I am not coloring it indefinitely just in case.)

We talked about the strangeness of being a weight I was at a much younger age, and how this process is, in some ways, like turning back the clock. I get around so much more easily, even with my ankle still in its healing stages, and physically I already feel 1,000 times better. I tell everyone--and will say again here--that even if I don't lose another ounce, this surgery has been totally worth it.

She talked about her passion, which is follow-up for two years post-op, and pointed out that the surgical center statistics of "only 5% will maintain weight loss" does not apply to those who participate in nutritional counseling and guidance before and after surgery; their success rate percentage is much higher. "I will see you in 2010," she said quietly. "Just...enjoy your body."

Enjoy your body. Those are not words that have ever been said to me. I have said them, angrily, several times, in reference to the barrage of verbal abuse I received growing up: "If people had just left me alone and let me enjoy my body, I..." Fill in the blank: been healthier, felt better, wouldn't have developed an eating disorder, wouldn't have flunked PE, wouldn't have become morbidly obese. The only message I received regarding my body as far back as I remember was one of constant and complete failure: my body looked wrong; it was not good enough. It was ugly and disgusted people. ("Fatandugly" was one word for a long time. It took decades to occur to me that I was not necessarily ugly simply because I was fat.) I felt--and still feel--much more comfortable when it is hidden. (There was also plenty of shame about being female and therefore dirty, an issue which is both different and the same.) As an adult, I have learned hard-won gratitude for my body--for its mobility and functioning senses. Actually enjoying it? I can make an educated guess: that will be something I work on for the rest of my life. I think enjoyment of my body will come in moments, much as true happiness does, fleeting revelations that cross my mind: Wow, it is easier to walk now. It feels good to dance. That workout felt good. I am already having those moments from time to time, and they are such a gift.

The world would be a completely different place if people learned from a young age that it was their right to enjoy their bodies, to appreciate what their bodies can do rather than focusing on the ways they fall short. This relatively simple concept would make a much larger dent in "the obesity epidemic" and eating disorder percentages than whether or not you can purchase bottled water at a fast-food restaurant or buy soda in a vending machine in school.

Thursday Thunks a couple of days late

2009-12-12T07:12:00.000-08:00

1. Isn't showing a condom commercial during Sex Rehab With Dr Drew almost like showing a pain narcotic or an alcohol commercial during Intervention?

They show "male enhancement" commercials during that show, too. I think that's worse--condoms are at least preventive!

2. Burger King and Ronald McDonald met Colonel Sanders in a dark alley. They beat him down for just serving chicken and not sharing his "11 herbs & spices". The Colonel goes down. Begs for his life. Where do they go to eat afterwards?

Applebee's

3. You take a shower, go to leave the bathroom and the door is stuck. Due to humidity and moisture it won't budge. It will not open. No one else is home. You can't go out the window. How long do you sit in the bathroom and how do you occupy your time?

As long as it takes. I listen to the radio and organize the linen/medicine closet. It always needs it.

4. You are a rockstar, but you need a cool rocker name. What is it and how did you decide on that name?

Black Ice--it's my name in Mafia Wars. I love it so much I almost wish it was my name all the time.

5. Have you ever gotten naked at a family function?

Good Lord, no, unless I was 2 years old and don't remember it.

6. If purple ate yellow, what color would come out?

Brown. Mixing colors always comes out brown.

7. The closest paper and pen to you right now. What color are they?

Pen: Dr. Grip with turquoisey tealy barrel and blue ink. Paper: neon pink Post-Its.

8. Corn chips or potato chips?

Corn tortilla chips. Not a huge fan of either.

9. You are forced to swallow either a diamond or a piece of coal. Don't ask. Just do it. Which do you choose?

Diamond. It's going to be smaller and smoother going down.

10. If your mouse decided to attack your keyboard, who would win?

The keyboard. I secretly believe it has ninja tendencies.

60 pounds gone

2009-12-07T16:18:00.001-08:00

As of today, I have lost 60 pounds!

Today, I am 41

2009-12-03T17:58:00.000-08:00

For the past few days, I have been in my happy place--the northern Oregon Coast. The skies have been clear and blue each day, save the one we arrived. We pulled into town with the rain coming almost horizontally and I still couldn't stop smiling. I simply love it here--we both do. We dream of retiring here, and today we started talking about Ways to Make Moving Here Happen Sooner--which is fun, even if it remains hypothetical.

I have not been able to weigh myself for a week, which is another blessing. I am still figuring out when to say when portionwise, and I am getting better at it. We did hit Harry and David and discover their sugar-free goodies, and I discovered quite unexpectedly that I rather like hot tea. So far, the Stash Chai Spice Black Tea and Harry and David's Ginger Spice Tea are my favorites, with one packet of Stevia in a cup. Lovely.

My greatest pleasure on this trip has been being able to find T-shirts (and two hoodies). It has chapped me for about 20 years that I could never buy a shirt when I traveled somewhere or went to see music. (Fat people have money too! Merchandisers, take note.) An XL either fits or almost fits me now, which is a really big deal for a person who wore 5X/6X at her heaviest. I have gone a little crazy this trip making up for lost time in the T-shirt department.

I am at peace with being 41, despite my eye bags (which, to be fair, I have had since I was in grade school--damn the genetic lottery). I am glad to be breathing and mobile with senses and brain intact. I am trying to make peace with my body's lumpiness, which is definitely easier since the number on the scale is getting smaller by the day.

Today at lunch we had an attractive young waiter who was on the cusp of being young enough to be my son. I finished my portion of my entree and Mr. Salted helped with the rest, so I went up to pay while he was still eating. I gave this waiter my driver's license and VISA debit card. The debit card bears a photo that is about two years old, while the driver's license photo is only from a couple of weeks ago.

"Is this you?" he asked quizzically, brow furrowed.

My grin immediately became a mile wide. "Yes, I've lost almost sixty pounds since then," I replied happily. He was the first service person to note this particular discrepancy in my appearance--at least, out loud.

"Well, you look GOOD," he responded without a beat. Not 'you're looking well' or 'healthy' or whatever generic, tactful thing most people I know would say, but "GOOD" with the heft of, dare I say, actual appreciation behind it. This event was somewhat of an anomaly for me to experience at ANY age, dear reader, and to be 41 and have it come from a handsome stranger almost young enough to be my KID--I will take it as a compliment. Whether he was aiming for a better tip or not--it made this old bag's day!

Oh yeah, my weight.

2009-11-29T15:00:00.000-08:00

Not much has changed. I'm now stalled at 216. I went down a pound after Thanksgiving--enormously satisfying. The food didn't bother me--I just had a bit of everything and took my time about it. My friend the host gave me a bottle of Baja Bob's martini mixer made with Splenda. Tastes just like Apple Pucker! They don't sell it in Washington, but they do in Oregon--not sure about other states...but one can become a fan on Facebook, and there is always http://www.bajabob.com.

Mr. Salted and myself are headed to the beach for a few days, and I turn forty-one on December 3rd. We're going to read, be tourists, look at stuff, take pictures of stuff, read some more, eat, and sleep. That's about all. Perfect!

How to Sing the Blues

2009-11-29T07:08:00.000-08:00

1. Most blues begin “woke up this morning”.

2. “I got a good woman” is a bad way to begin the blues, unless you stick something nasty in the next line: “I got a good woman/with the meanest face in town”.

3. Blues are simple. After you have the first line right, repeat it. Then find something that rhymes—sort of: “I got a good woman/with the meanest face in town. Yes, I got a good woman with the meanest face in town. She got teeth like Margaret Thatcher, and she weigh 500 pound.”

4. The blues are not about limitless choice. If you stuck in a ditch, you stuck in a ditch—ain’t no way out. Blues cars are Chevys and Cadillacs. Jet aircraft and state-sponsored motor pools ain’t even in the running. Other acceptable blues transportation is a Greyhound bus or southbound train. Walkin’ plays a major part in the blues lifestyle, as does fixin’ to die.

5. Teenagers can’t sing the blues. Adults sing the blues. Blues adulthood means old enough to get the electric chair if you shoot a man in Memphis.

6. Blues is not a matter of color—it’s a matter of bad luck. Tiger Woods cannot sing the blues. Sonny Liston could. Ugly white people also got a leg up on the blues. That having been said, the following colors should be nowhere near the blues: (a) violet, (b) beige, and (c) mauve.

7. Blues can take place in New York City, but not in Hawaii or Canada. Hard times in Minneapolis or Seattle are probably just clinical depression. Chicago, St. Louis, and Kansas City are still the best cities for having the blues. You can’t have the blues in any place that don’t get rain. Other good places for the blues are: (a) the highway, (b) jailhouse, (c) empty bed, and (d) the bottom of a whiskey glass. Bad places: (a) golf courses, (b) gallery openings, (c) Ivy League institutions, and (d) Macy’s. You can’t have the blues in an office or shopping mall--the lighting is wrong. Go out to the parking lot or sit by the dumpster.

8. A man with male pattern baldness ain’t the blues. A woman with male pattern baldness is. Breaking your leg skiing is not the blues. Breaking your leg ‘cause an alligator be chomping on it is.

9. No one will believe it’s the blues if you wear a suit, unless you happen to be an elderly ethnic person who slept in it.

10. Do you have the right to sing the blues? Yes, if (a) you’re older than dirt; (b) you’re blind; (c) you shot a man in Memphis; (d) you can’t be satisfied.

No, if (a) you were once blind but now can see; (b) you have all your teeth; (c) the man in Memphis lived; or (d) you have a trust fund.

11. If you ask for water and your baby gives you gasoline, it’s the blues. Other acceptable blues beverages include (a) cheap wine; (b) whiskey or bourbon; (c) muddy water; (d) nasty black coffee. The following are NOT blues beverages: (a) Perrier; (b) Chardonnay; (c) Snapple; (d) Slim Fast.

12. If death occurs in a cheap motel or shotgun shack, it’s a blues death. Stabbed in the back by a jealous lover is another blues way to die. So is the electric chair, chronic substance abuse, and dying alone on a broken-down cot. It is not a blues death if you die playing a tennis match or getting liposuction.

13. Some blues names for women: (a) Sadie; (b) Big Mama; (c) Bessie; (d) Fat River Dumpling. Some blues names for men: (a) Joe; (b) Willie; (c) Little Willie; (d) Big Willie. People with names like Michelle, Debbie, Amber or Heather can’t sing the blues no matter how many men they shoot in Memphis.

Making your own blues name is simple. Take (a) name of physical infirmity (Blind, Lame), (b) a fruit (Lemon, Lime), and (c) last name of a President (Jefferson, Johnson, Fillmore) and combine them—for example, Blind Lemon Fillmore.

14. No matter how tragic your life, if you own a computer, you cannot sing the blues.

Thanksgiving

2009-11-27T16:56:00.000-08:00

The above is my favorite Thanksgiving cartoon EVER.

I like Thanksgiving; it seems fitting that there should be a day set aside to remember the good things in life. It has become increasingly pleasant over the years as I have chosen to spend it with friends-who-are-family. The food is awesome, and no one calls the cops or even argues. It's good stuff. I have a great deal to be thankful for, but this is what I am most thankful for: a life surrounded by love. In my almost 41 years on Earth, love is something I have had ripped from me, gone without, waited for, been chewed up and spit out by, worked for, and actively spent no small amount of time, energy, and effort to cultivate, so I appreciate it just that much more. It should be noted that the life I am so grateful for doesn't look remotely similar to the ones ones on TV; it does not include parents, siblings, children, or grandchildren. No one bakes me crescent rolls to show their love or includes me in an annual photograph of any kind. As blessed as I am today, it was not always thus. The unabashed, shameless flogging of the traditional holiday horse in the media will always annoy me, but I can tell you this: I would trade my life for no one else's, even if they bake cookies with their mom or sister every year or have three beautiful, healthy children they treasure. I have wanted that life (just like most other people do) at one time or another, but that was not the path meant for me. Many parts of my life have read as tragedy, but as much as is within my control, I have worked hardest at making one fact true: I am in possession of a life surrounded by love.

And I am profoundly thankful.

The almost dog

2009-11-24T14:58:00.000-08:00

I love dogs, and I've never had one of my own. (I couldn't have animals as a child, so my first real pet was my Maine Coon cat, BC, when I was thirty.) I love almost every dog, but I have a special soft spot for bulldogs--particularly English or French, but also American bulldogs and even pit bulls. (I don't blame the breed, I blame stupid people.) I love big dogs, but don't have a fenced yard and need a mellow breed that doesn't need to run several miles a day or herd sheep to be happy. I've never seen an English or French bulldog in a shelter, and I pay attention. Last week a French bulldog suddenly popped up at the local shelter. They were only accepting applications to adopt her on Saturday and Sunday, so Mr. Indra and I went in Sunday, met her, and applied. She was quiet, mellow, and sweet, and we fell in love. Her name was Tessa; she seemed freaked out by the chaos of the shelter, and cuddled into us, licking Mr. Salted's hand. She even liked cats, which is apparently quite rare. They said they would let us know Monday, and that they were moving us up to the top of the list because we didn't have kids, I only work part time, we would put her in dog daycare, etc.

During my breaks at work, I looked into a couple of dog daycare places online and started thinking how fun it could be to have a fuzzy buddy around all the time to take on road trips and to snuggle with while my cats are busy doing what they do best--ignoring me. I wondered if she would wear a sweater when it was cold, if she would snore, and if she would ultimately end up preferring Mr. Salted (as every other animal who meets him seems to do).

The shelter didn't call me all day. I knew we were a long shot because French bulldogs are so popular and so rarely in a shelter, but I allowed myself to get my hopes up. (I've never seen one in a shelter.) I decided to stop by on the way home, and they had chosen another family because the application came in sooner than ours had. It turned out that 20 families had applied to adopt her in that short two-day window. I was glad I stopped by and saw her so I could pet her and tell her to have a wonderful life. I only stayed a minute, and she tried to leave when I did, which was hard. One guy that worked there walked me out, talking about all the other great dogs they had (as if I was a dog snob and hadn't noticed them). There were several standouts: a great big Newfie mix, a beautiful year-old Basset hound, a chocolate Lab with three legs that was nonetheless obviously itching to chase a ball for an hour or 12. They all needed yards. I only wanted Tessa.

I am still a little sad today. I know this isn't the most practical time to get a dog, but she would have fit into our family so well and gotten so much love from us. This was the first attempt I've really made to get a dog. I may still keep my eyes open for another adult Frenchie or mix, but I'm not going to get my hopes up again like I did this time. It's just too hard.

Fitting room fiesta!

2009-11-20T19:56:00.000-08:00

Despite the multitude of clothes I have either been given or have acquired on Ebay of late, I had to go shopping at an actual bricks-and-mortar store today. (A friend of mine is fond of saying, "I'd get my hair cut online if I could"; I'm with her there.)I have a lot of clothes that almost fit but don't quite yet, or clothes that I can get on but won't feel comfortable wearing in public for a few less pounds. Like a homing pigeon, I was drawn to Fashion Bug--they have long been tried and true, with good basics at reasonable prices, and as a bonus, I even had a coupon that hadn't expired yet.

I made a beeline for the $14.99 stretch pants in navy, black and gray--comfy, forgiving, good for work. When it comes to transitional weight-loss clothing, they are Linus' blanket. I'm down to size 18/20 in those now. (Considering I used to be a 28/30 not so very long ago, I was glad to see a number in the teens anywhere nearby. I strained to remember the last time this was so; oddly enough, it was when my age was also a number in the teens.)

I wanted a pair of jeans, and ran into an interesting quandary. All jeans in plus-size stores at the moment seem to include the word "stretch". "Stretch" denim may be forgiving in its way, but it does nothing to camouflage one's lovely lady lumps. I have short legs, not much ass, and a very round stomach. Needless to say, hilarity ensued; I was eternally grateful that it was visually private hilarity. I did manage to leave with one pair of jeans--after trying on about fifteen others.

I tried on a few shirts, grabbing 22/24s, trying them on, and to my surprise, having to put them all back for 18/20s. When I was a teenager with a job at McDonald's, I remember taking a size 14 in the uniform pants, but a size 20 for the top; despite this, like every woman I have ever talked to about how she loses weight, I seem to be losing it in the chest first. Sisterhood is powerful.

That brings us to the bras. I have had to special-order them for so many years I can't remember buying them in stores anymore; at my largest I wore an H cup. My current size is 40DDD. This Fashion Bug didn't carry that size at all; for DDD, the band size began at 42. I didn't know whether to feel good about being smaller than that or annoyed that the size didn't exist for my convenience. I chose the former.

The salesperson sent me next door to Catherine's on the outside chance they stocked that bra size. Fashion Bug does juniors, misses and plus, where Catherine's is all plus--sizes 16-32 if I'm not mistaken. I've bought a fair amount of clothing at Catherine's over the years. I would say their demographic skews older and more professional, but they are owned by the same parent company.

Catherine's didn't carry that bra size either, at least not in the store. This baffled me--if you can't get DDDs in a plus-size clothing store, where can you get them? They were having a good sale, though--buy any two items in the store, get the third free. I ended up with a long, colorful skirt with a boho feel to it that reminded me of being on a cruise, a black peasant blouse with cool flower embroidery, and my favorite, a black cloche hat. I've always wanted a cloche hat, and happily, it rests as it should atop Charlie Brown-esque melon head. (I love hats, but my head is often too big for the ones I find.) The mind-blower was the size of the clothes--I'm one size from being the smallest size Catherine's carries. The blouse I bought was actually a 14/16. The moral of the story is, try everything on! I have things here at home that are 22s that are too small, but this blouse is a 14/16 and fits perfectly.

Undeterred, I came home and paid a visit to my dear friend Ebay. There I found someone selling a lot of 5 new Bali bras in my size for $75.00--a Buy It Now auction without suspense. Problem solved!

Though my weight hovers at 218, today's shopping trip lowered my frustration level considerably. I saw more difference in my body in fitting-room mirrors than I can in the ones at home or work, and smaller sizes are fitting. I also just realized I've already lost almost half the total weight I want to lose at only 3-1/2 months out from surgery, which is really satisfying, especially given the fact that I am not yet able to begin an exercise program.

Progress?

2009-11-17T15:57:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I went to the ankle doctor and was freed from The Dreaded Boot. He gave me a great brace that is made of some kind of stiffish meshy material and Velcro that wraps around the ankle a couple of times. You wear it over a sock, and it's very shoe-friendly. Today was my first day wearing it, and it felt good. My ankle is always a little sore by the end of the day, but I haven't taken any painkillers for a week or two. I'm still supposed to ice it and rub lotion into the scars. The latter grosses me out, but I'm getting used to it. When I broke it originally, anyone touching that scar sent me into orbit--I'm much more comfortable with it now. Dr. Ankle was amused by my black knee socks with purple skulls; he was pretty sure his 12-year-old daughter had the same pair. I was also sporting my leopard-print Chuck Taylors. (Why dress like a grown-up unless you have to? Socks and shoes are the easiest flamboyant apparel items one can get away with.) I asked him about physical therapy and beginning workouts, and he said we would talk physical therapy at my next appointment in a month and that I needed to let this ankle heal. He studied me for a minute and said, "Why, you're wasting away, young lady!" with a big grin.

I spent three hours today going through clothes. It looked like a consignment shop tornado blew through chez Salted--I have had clothes coming in and going out constantly the last few months. No fewer than eight women I know have given me clothes; there are three or four others that I have been passing things along to as well, and I'm extremely grateful for all of them. On a friend's advice, I finally chose to organize what I had left by size into large Rubbermaid containers. The smallest clothes I have are 14s, and I have to say--size 14s look tiny to me. I can't imagine being that small ever again; I can't believe how many, and how often, people told me I was fat when I actually was that size; it makes me sick (and sad, disgusted, angry, pick the negative emotion of your choice)--that, at that weight, I saw a monster when I looked in the mirror. For better or worse, I've made 14 my absolute goal size. It's the size of the average American woman, and in this case, average is more than good enough for me! Frankly, I'm not sure I can even reach it without plastic surgery in addition to diet and exercise, and I'm only 5'3".

I am currently in a frustrating place in my weight-loss journey. I am not losing much weight the past week or two, if any--fractions of pounds here and there, perhaps. (On the positive side, I'm not gaining it, either.) I'm also not losing weight in any kind of logical fashion--it comes from where it wants to on the body, when it wants to. It's not happening anywhere near fast enough for yours truly, and not having clearance to exercise yet, I can't employ that method to speed things along. Depending on what I wear, I either look like a short, healthy, round woman or like Lumpen Middle-Aged Poster Girl, and never the twain shall meet. I really despise the lumps--I've been shaped that way ever since the Puberty Fairy went on a bender at my house when I was nine or so. The demon stomach has always asserted itself in a big way, and it is doing so as we speak. I am five to ten pounds too heavy for a bunch of the pants I have waiting and, to my dismay, that five to ten pounds isn't going anywhere. I need to go out and buy some cheap stretch pants to tide me over. Sigh. Don't look at me like that--I'm eating what I'm supposed to!

Saturday 9: Man on the Moon

2009-11-15T21:14:00.000-08:00

1. Do you think it was important to send a man to the moon?

The hippie in me wants to say no, it was more important to feed people and make sure they had healthcare. On the other hand, it was good for scientific exploration, we could, it built morale in the US, and maybe it prevented us from shooting a torpedo at a Russian sub.

2. What is your biggest fear?

It's a toss-up between becoming homeless and contracting Alzheimer's. Being tortured is up there too.

3. If someone hung a sign around your neck today, what would it say and why?

"This woman deserves a career break! Give it to her!" Why? I've worked hard all my life at every legal profession other than the sex industry (although I did work for an Internet filtering company where I had to look at porn all day for two years). I couldn't only pursue jobs that would fulfill me or that were in my field because I had to pay the bills. I know, cry me a river, the majority of us could say the same thing. I'm just saying: I'm intelligent, creative, detail-oriented, fun to work with, and I can do anything I set my mind to (outside of becoming a supermodel). I don't have the money for any more education, more's the pity. Do you hear that, universe?

4. What is the longest line that you've stood in and was it worth it?

I know which one felt the longest; waiting in line for the Cure on the "Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me" tour in 1986. We were in line eight hours or more. I was in full Batcaver regalia-- tons of makeup, ratted black hair. There were a lot of big semis parked around the venue, it was a hot day, and I got totally sick from the heat and the truck fumes. It was festival seating and we were getting pushed around in the crowd--sometimes we were right up against the stage, but we were pushed all over the place. I lost the friends I had come with in the crush, and was about to pass out. A kindhearted woman with a blue liberty-spiked mohawk grabbed my hand and led me out of the crowd. I subsequently spent most of the concert throwing up into a garbage can, and I hadn't even had a drink!

5. As the holidays approach, what song are looking forward to hearing again?

Bah, humbug. I can stand "Christmas Island" by Leon Redbone; I also like his version of "Let it Snow".

6. Whose music do you think is the most important of your generation's?

R.E.M., X, Nirvana

7. Do you find it is hard to be kind to strangers? Give an example.

Not really. I make an effort to do so unless they are total a**holes.

8. When do usually lose your patience?

Oh, that's funny. Repetitive noises. Whining. People who don't listen. People who don't THINK. People who don't ask questions. People who treat their loved ones like crap and then say they love them. People with a sense of entitlement. How long do you have?

9. Is there a book that you're dying to see as a movie?

I'm anxious to see if they did "The Lovely Bones" justice. Love that book.

I can't eat like other people.

2009-11-10T17:29:00.000-08:00

I misplaced my driver's license and haven't been able to find it again. Mr. Salted and I tried to go in on Saturday, but there were probably 200 people in there and three customer service windows open. We lasted about an hour. We waited. We read the paper. I found a chair (my ankle is still in a boot). We listened to a teenage girl whine to her mom (in several different octaves) how hungry she was. We listened to an irritating woman on her cell phone, and another, and another. We listened to our butts grow. Finally, I said to my beloved, "I'm not a patient woman. Let's roll." He's not a patient man, either, so he was happy to oblige. (I knew I could come back during the work week since I'm part-time.) We went to Shari's, where I enjoyed some loaded baked potato soup (I got a couple of meals out of a bowl) and discovered they sell both marionberry and apple pies with no sugar added. (I'm in charge of dessert for Thanksgiving, so guess where I'm getting it?)

This DMV office was closed on Monday, so I stopped in this morning on the way to work. I had to wait about an hour, but there were only 13 or 14 people ahead of me as opposed to the 80 or so people ahead of me that there had been on the weekend. One of the employees came out and said the computers were down, but I stuck around on the outside chance that they could replace my license for me--they were moving people through, albeit at a drunken snail's pace. I had my passport, Social Security card, and the old temporary copy of my license that they had given me before. Because I had that old temporary copy, they could hand-key all my information in and give me a new license! I was actually one of the few people they were able to help. Apparently the DMV computers went down for the entire state. (The moral of the story is, save that paper one--even after you get your permanent one in the mail--in case something like this happens to you!)

I wanted a new driver's license picture because I have lost so much weight, but I had lied about my weight on my license by so much that I couldn't even put my true weight on the damn thing (after losing 80 pounds from my heaviest weight) because I was still 20 pounds from the false weight. I had to laugh at my own foolishness, but the difference in my face when comparing older ID photos to the one taken today is considerable.

When I arrived at work at 9:45 AM, the office was not only locked, but dark and deserted. There was some restructuring that took place without warning yesterday--several people were laid off--which made us all uneasy, and this didn't help. It was a bit eerie. I looked at the common calendar where our department notes our vacation days and such; a large offsite meeting was noted, which explained the dark, empty office. I breathed a sigh of relief. And to my surprise, relief smelled like peanut butter cookies.

Oh, snap! The smell of relief was thus because a heaping plate of homemade peanut butter toffee-chip cookies lurked in the nearby darkness, front and center in our common workspace. Each cookie on the plate was at least four inches in diameter--larger than the plates I eat dinner on these days. It was as though the evil part of my subconscious had made those cookies materialize; I've been thinking about peanut butter cookies often the last few days, wondering if I could maybe locate a recipe for some good sugar-free ones. I adore peanut butter; these days, I eat it on sliced apples or whole-grain crackers. I used to insist on Jif Extra Crunchy, but had to switch to creamy Jif post-WLS.

Dammit. I felt like killing something. I so did not need this temptation. I was hungry, too. No one was around. I decided that I had to eat one.

My first thought, of course: "I could dump." Then I thought if I ate one cookie sl-o-o-o-ow enough, I probably wouldn't; they looked and smelled so good, at this point, I was past caring. So I took one, and nibbled at it until it was gone. My stomach rumbled unhappily for the better part of the afternoon, but I didn't dump.

I had to use the fax machine a few times, and the cookies were right next to it. At one point, I was waiting for a particularly long fax to go through, and I drew a little skull and crossbones on a folded piece of paper and wrote, "(My name), This Means You" which I stuck on top of the pile. I groused about it to my coworkers when they came back from their meeting, and we all laughed about it. For me, it's like having a free plate of cocaine, and I said so, which people found funny. But it's also true. I suddenly felt great kinship with folks I know who struggle to maintain their sobriety. I've always known addiction was addiction was addiction, but I had to truly occupy that knowledge today.

I'm annoyed with myself for eating that cookie; I'm annoyed with my stomach for tolerating it, but it tasted really good and I did enjoy it--I cannot tell a lie. But it was ONE COOKIE. I can't let it ruin my life or impede my progress. And today wasn't like my bulimia, where I would have eaten the entire plate, been sick for days, diving into a vat of self-hatred with a garnish of suicidal ideation. I know I can't bend the entire world to bend to my will or give even the most microscopic shit about my personal struggles, but my God, do you have any inkling how many cookies, cakes, drinks, and various and sundry delicious foods I've passed up? Trust me, it is a huge amount, and I am a mere three months out from surgery. The difference between me and most other people is that I could probably remember each and every time vividly if I started listing them out--and I'd feel at least a little pissed off, or sad, or tired and resigned about each and every occasion.

OK, I get it, universe. I can't eat like other people.

Saturday 9: Be True To Your School

2009-11-10T16:55:00.000-08:00

1. What was your favorite subject in high school?

Anything where I got to write--newspaper (I was editor for a while but was asked to leave for being too controversial), English. They let me do my own Independent Poetry class senior year--I loooooved that.

2. Do you watch reality shows? Which ones?

A weird selection. I watch "American Idol" if I stay interested--I always love the auditions, and Adam Lambert kept me interested this entire year. I watched the first "Rock of Love" and "Flavor of Love"; I watched "Charm School" because I liked all the headmistresses. "Intervention", "DogTown", "Divorce Court" (I like Judge Lynn), "Gene Simmons Family Values" (that whole family is hilarious). I've watched "Ruby" a few times and "I Want to Save Your Life". I prefer those shows to something like "The Biggest Loser"--they're more compassionate and look at the subjects as people, not just fat people. I've watched "Celebrity Fit Club" for the trainwreck more than the weight loss. Mr. Salted and I like "Cops" because we are never having as a bad a day as any of those folks. I liked "The Surreal Life" when it was on. I like "The Locator" a lot. That can really get to me--reuniting with loved ones from your past that you have missed. I always think of my loved ones that have passed on that I wish I could see again.

3. What's your favorite all time reality show?

"Intervention". I think it's an amazing show. I think it's great that it is on the air, because it does anything but glorify drug addiction--if anything it shows what drugs do to people and to families.

4. Do you feel "reality" shows are real or are they faked?

I think it depends on the show.

5. What did you look like when you were a teenager?

Pudgy, awkward, bad hair, thick glasses. I developed a sense of style eventually though.

6. Whose advice do you listen to?

I listen to the few people I truly respect and follow my own advice.

7. How often are you sick?

Not very.

8. Do you like or dislike change?

It can be hard to adjust to, but I try to welcome it. It's usually good.

9. How many times in your life have you had a broken heart?

At least six...most of those times had nothing to do with romantic love or the end of it.

3 months post-op appointments

2009-11-03T15:50:00.000-08:00

Today I saw both my bariatric surgeon and the head nutritionist of the wellness center. It was a fine, even proud, day in every way. The weather was beautiful. The radio played both "Brick House" and "Radar Love" when I was in traffic, and I rocked out to both with a song in my heart.

I have now lost 52 pounds, 13 of it in the last month alone. The results of my bloodwork? "Perfect". My diabetes and high cholesterol? "Resolved themselves". My diet? "Very good". Protein, vitamins, all present and accounted for in spades. They said my vitamin D levels were the highest they'd seen and how unusual that was.

This feels...good. More than good. I, the person whose former addiction to food has thus far only been matched by her addiction to words, can choose no word for this feeling. (Perhaps it will come to me at 3 AM, as such things often do.)

I also found out that I had misunderstood my surgeon all these months--I thought he had said my ultimate goal weight should be 125 pounds, and I thought he was crazy. What he meant was a 125-pound weight loss would be optimum, which would make my ideal goal weight 150 pounds. After he and I clarified this, I hemmed and hawed a little, and he started to write a goal weight of 175 pounds in my file. Before I knew what I was saying, I heard myself protest, "No! Say it's 150." As a side note, my husband weighs 150; he is 5'4" (one inch taller than I) with a 32-inch waist and wears a size medium shirt. I could CERTAINLY live with being that size, and because I am having this fabulous day, I believe it may well be attainable.

It came to me suddenly--I could learn to love that number. 150 sounds like a poem. Nice. Round. I remember being that exact weight once--in my mid-teens, before it all went horribly wrong, before bulimia kicked into high, before you could rock a baby in one of my bras. I have another defiant reason to learn to love 150; my biological father, drug-addled idiot extraordinaire, once threw a scale at me with all his strength for weighing that very amount. (Fortunately, I ducked.) In honor of what a delusional and abusive fool he was, I am taking that number back with as my goal, with intention and hope of its achievement.

That said, 175 would be just fine too. I was eighteen years old when my weight was in that vicinity; my boyfriend at the time called me his Botticelli and wanted me to pose nude for him. (Sometimes I wish I had--not for him, but for myself, to prove I could have ever been mentioned in the same breath as a Botticelli.)

Mr. Salted and I went to an '80s party last weekend to celebrate a dear friend's 40th birthday. We had a great time--a lot of the people there hadn't seen me for a year or more. Everyone told me how great I looked, how healthy. It was extremely good for my ego.

My entire mental process around this surgery, my weight loss, my relationship to food--all are really interesting, even revelatory (at least to me). Shallow as it may be, the clothes are my favorite part so far, I cannot tell a lie. I'm watching my feminine shape rise out of the huge wall I spent my life building around it with food, and I'm not horrified or threatened by it as I always was in the past; I don't feel the need to hide it with clothes that are two sizes too big. I actually feel okay--not only about being a woman, but about looking like one. And I'm allowing myself to feel good--about all aspects of this. Good is not strong enough a word--"miracle" comes closer.

My nutritionist said to me today--in the gentlest of voices--"Just enjoy this." Her tone sounded as peaceful as I feel right now. That's what this is all about, after all--peace. Feeling good. Making peace not only with my body, but with being female. These are things that not so long ago I could never have envisioned as being possible.