Halloween-y Thursday Thunks meme

1. So Halloween is this weekend, if you haven't heard. Are you gonna open your doors up or not?

Nope. I'm going out! One of my best friends turns 40 a couple days before Halloween and is having an '80s party. We bought wigs and all kinds of crazy stuff, it's going to be a great time.

2. You better open 'em cuz I'm coming... what are you putting in my treat bag?

Nobody will be here. Don't waste your time. :)

3. Since October is the bestest month for television (well for cable & dish subscribers it is) and there is a horror movie on at any given time of the day - are you sick of them yet?

Not a horror movie fan, sorry. Though "Silence of the Lambs" was really good, and "The Sixth Sense"--do those count?

4. Which one of those movies can you watch over & over again?

The only horror movies I can watch are the cheesy old ones like William Castle, "Straitjacket", "Homicidal", or ones riffed on by Mystery Science Theater 3000/Rifftrax/Cinematic Titanic like "Screaming Skull", "The Brain That Wouldn't Die", etc.

5. Tell us about a Halloween scare you've had....

Halloween has never been scary for me. It's always been fun.

6. Did you watch the old Casper cartoons when you were a youngin? Well, back then they weren't old I suppose, but I'm sure you still understand my question.

I remember them being on, but I don't remember much about them. My favorite Halloween-themed cartoons involved Bugs Bunny and Witch Hazel, Bugs Bunny and Gossamer (the big orange monster), or other spooky Looney Tunes characters.

7. Have you ever found a four-leaf clover?

I have. I found one in Dena's yard a couple of years ago.

8. Haunted Houses... you know, the kinds you pay to get in and they chase you with chainsaws and severed heads.... do you like 'em?

Not really.

9. Do you use cute cartoon type wrapping paper for Christmas presents or the not cutesy paper? Or are you one of those gift card and/or gift bag people?

I use what's cheap. Sometimes I don't wrap at all. The gift is more important, and who has time? Gift cards are a great gift. I love them!

10. How long do boiled eggs need to stay in the boiling water before they become hard boiled eggs?

I'm not sure, I never got the hang of it. Mr. Salted is the cook.

11. Jason is coming in through your front door... Freddy is coming through your back door... zombies are at every window of the house and Norman Bates is calling to invite you to dinner... what do you do?

Force myself to wake up!!!

12. Did you know that the scariest part of Halloween is giving all of your Reese's Peanut Butter Cups away?

The scariest part for me would be having Reese's Peanut Butter Cups in the house to begin with! Even the sugar-free ones are awfully good.

13a. If you were to play a part of a haunted house (not the ghosts in the attic kind), what would you want to be?

I'd want to be the person in the coffin that came to life.

13b. Have you ever played a part in a haunted house?

Nope.

14. If Thursday Thunks had a Halloween party, what do you think Kimber & Berleen would come dressed as?

Ketchup and mustard.

15. Do you cook a turkey for Thanksgiving?

We go to our friends' place every year and they usually cook turkey and prime rib.


16. Have you ever read a book that scared the pants off of you?

"Sharp Objects"--I think the author was Gillian Flynn. I know it was Gillian Something. Stephen King can write some pretty scary stuff. The psychological stuff scares me more than the gore.

17. Whats the predicted high temperature for today?

50 degrees

18. Have you ever howled at the moon?

Many times! :)

19.You are in an alley and a werewolf and a vampire are coming at you - one of them has to win. Which one do you want to bite you?

The cute one!

"Suture self."

Yesterday was a marathon.

I believe I spent a recent blog entry grousing about how my health insurance provider will only cover bloodwork if the draw is taken at a contracted lab (if a contracted doctor takes a draw at his contracted office and sends it to the lab he uses, they DON'T cover that--I found this out the hard way)--and how they gave me contact information for four labs, two of which are several states away.

Well, in all their infinite wisdom, the insurance company gave me the wrong address for the lab I needed. It was raining to a horizontal degree, the kind of rain that makes you think about designing an ark. The city we had to go to had streets numbered in a way I can only deem "full of clusterf**ky goodness". We couldn't see a blessed thing, and were happy the cops didn't show up--this was a nice neighborhood. 139th Place, 139th Court, and 139th Avenue were all connected and facing each other. Mr. Salted was the driver; we were armed with a Thomas Guide, a cellphone GPS, AND a Mapquest printout. Still, we drove around for about ninety minutes, ending up back at the same house each time--the address existed, but was a private residence in a completely residential neighborhood. We finally called the labs, got the correct address of the one that answered their phone, and the cellphone GPS led the way.

The lab had opened at 7:30 AM, and we were trying to make it there as close to opening as possible because I had to fast for the blood draw. Fasting makes me rather irritable; my blood sugar gets very low. I've learned to carry a South Beach cereal bar or some kind of snack to inhale the minute they tape the cotton ball to the inside of my elbow. We left our house at 7 AM; it was 9 AM by the time we found this lab, which was supposed to be just half an hour from our house.

The appointment to have my ankle sutures removed was at 11:30. They took another x-ray, which looked "just like you want it to look," according to my surgeon. My foot was all bruised dinosaur skin, still tinged yellow with iodine from the day of surgery. I had to hide my face when he started removing the sutures so I wasn't watching him do it. "This freaks me out pretty bad," I confessed. He told me it freaked a lot of people out and tipped the chair back for me. I looked through a magazine while he did the deed. Once he was done, he wrapped it in an Ace bandage and told me I could walk on it, IN THE BOOT, now, and that I could get it wet the following day. He told me to take it slow and keep the scooter for a couple more days. (Hell no! I wanted to be rid of that thing and not pay any more rent on it--we returned it.)

None of the places we had to go were anywhere near each other--the lab was half an hour south of our home, and we had time to stop back by in between; the ankle surgeon was 45 minutes from home another direction, the place we rented the scooter from was about an hour in another direction. We ended up getting home about 2:00 PM. I asked Mr. Salted to take the day off with me; the suture thing freaked me out that badly. I felt like a total weenie, but it was nice to have my partner there with me. (We filled out the FMLA paperwork for this very reason, after all.) I was so glad he was with me. The surgeon instructed me not to stop icing my foot, so I iced, popped Demerol and napped for the remainder of yesterday. The ankle hurt quite a bit.

So today was the momentous day: I was allowed to wash my foot! What an occasion! Goodbye, iodine, dead skin, wayward leg hair! It was/is hard to make myself touch the sutures. They are tender, look painful and, well, they're gross. I found out rapidly that it was not a good idea to let them touch anything, even the bed; they need to be on an additional cushion or reasonable facsimile of one, even with the foot covered with an Ace bandage and a sock.

The surgeon instructed me to rub lotion into my scars--Vaseline Intensive Care or the generic equivalent, something with aloe or Vitamin E--massaging them for 20 minutes twice a day. My response: "You mean I have to touch it?" (Insert the sound of a visceral reaction combined with shuddering and disgusted facial expressions here.) I was on the phone with my nurse friend this morning while I did the lotion thing for the first time; it made me feel better for some reason. I hope I will get used to this!

I was supposed to return to work tomorrow, but my ankle hurts quite a bit, I'm tiring very easily, and I get nauseous when I get up and walk around much. I am going to see how I feel; I may need to stay out another day or so.

You know, I haven't had Chinese for a long time...

You Are General Tso's Chicken

You have a flair for the dramatic, and you like to sample all of the world's flavors. You like to bring on the heat, both in life and at the dinner table. There's not a dish too spicy for you. While you tend to go for the more daring choices on the menu of life, you're the type of person who tries everything. You know there's no way you can predict what you'll like or dislike, so you just dive in and give it all a go.

What Kind of Chinese Food Are You?

Blogthings: We Have a Quiz for Almost Everything

Weird week

The ankle seems to be holding up, and I am extremely grateful. I'm not needing as much pain medication. Tomorrow I go in and get the sutures and/or staples removed (I'm not really sure if there are staples). Both times I've seen the ankle it looked pretty nasty to me, but the nurses and doctors have always said it "looked good". I'm not a fan of having sutures and/or staples removed; it hurts more than they tell you it will, and it makes me rather queasy. Sugar-free Wint-O-Green LifeSavers are my non-drug nausea standby. I'll definitely pack a healthy amount in my purse.

My very first boyfriend from waaaay back in the day found me on Facebook a few days ago, and we ended up talking on the phone for a couple of hours, catching up. We were friends before and after our brief "thing", but lost touch about twelve or thirteen years back. It was great to hear from him and that he is doing well--we're both doing a lot better than we were when we knew each other best!

I just learned about NaNoWriMo and the 12-scene outline (if you had to outline your entire story in 12 scenes, what would they be?), so I decided to make the outline. It was actually easy. My PC's hard drive is taking a long and laborious crap and needs repairs (a new CD drive, mostly), so I transferred all my manuscript bits to the laptop. In so doing, I discovered I had a great deal more done than I thought I did (on this thing I've been trying to write forever that feels hopeless bordering on albatrossesque), and that encouraged me. I transferred some other pieces, too, mostly things I wrote and workshopped to death when I was getting my BA; reading them made me wistful. I don't feel an MFA is currently in the cards for me for a number of reasons--mostly financial--but I'm trying not to be completely discouraged and say never. I am still considering a post-baccalaureate Technical Writing Certificate because I think it would be more practical (not to mention lucrative).

Yesterday, Mr. Salted and I hit Party City to prepare for an '80s party we are going to this weekend. We're going to look great--especially him, because he can fit into everything--but I procured some flamboyant accessories for myself that will get the job done. I have enough Chucks and Vans to outfit the average elementary-school class, and our feet are the same size, so we're covered there.

Granny remains in the care center and has not felt well. I haven't heard much else.

I am supposed to return to work Wednesday. It will be good to get out of this house and earn money again.

The weight still creeps off. I'm glad I got a digital scale, because I can see the fractions of pounds as they leave--a pound every two or three days. I've lost fifty pounds now, and am not quite at three months out.

The fifty-pound figure is a bit of a bugaboo with me. I have managed to lose that increment--fifty pounds--using "natural means" in the past, but never more than that. Fifty pounds is a lot--unless you need to lose another 80 or so. I am at the lowest weight I have been in about fifteen years, which is great--but I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. I've always been this freak of nature that could not lose more than a couple of pounds a month no matter what I did, so it's always in the back of my mind that this surgery will not work for me in the long run. My determination to prove that fear wrong is much stronger than the back of my mind thing.

Another weird thing this week--I was looking at pictures on my PC's hard drive, because I'm trying to back them up before I send the tower in for repairs. People keep telling me how my face has changed, and I was amazed at how right they are. I deleted a lot of pictures of myself--I didn't see the need to keep them. I'm not going to destroy all "before" pictures of me, (a) because there would be none left, (b) because there are good memories in them, and (c) because it wouldn't be the truth. We take a lot of pictures, though, and there were definitely some I can do without.

Spill

I took a spill on my scooter yesterday--trying to maneuver through a tight area of the house, I somehow lost my balance and fell, with most of my weight on the bad leg. The bad leg basically kept me from the floor. It's supposed to be non-weight-bearing, and it's hurt more since then, so I went into the surgeon's office today. He was out of the office, so one of his partners took x-rays and looked at my ankle.

The x-rays looked good to him as far as the bones go. It was too soon to remove the sutures, and if I did any tissue damage, there really isn't a test to determine that. He said the swelling was about what one would expect for this far out from surgery.

There is hardware in my ankle and I'm starting to be able to feel it in there, so I don't know if some of what I'm feeling is normal healing pain or if I ripped something.

I see my actual surgeon on Monday.

The weight is still creeping off at a glacial pace, and today I am tried a new calcium citrate product--they are lemon cream chews, available from BariatricEating.com, and they are v., v. good.

Speaking of BariatricEating.com, I am going to try and join in their live chat support group tonight. I keep meaning to, but either forgetting it or not being in the mood.

Nocturne

I'm a little concerned about my nocturnal eating habits. I'm not a good sleeper, never have been--and sometimes I wake up hungry. I've been lectured about eating during the night--one doctor went so far as to assert, "You're not hungry, it's just a bad habit". Of course, if it were up to doctors, no fat people would never eat anything ever again until their ribs could be counted (she snarked, peevishly).

Back when I was on Ambien, I was binge eating during the night with no memory of doing so--we would find the evidence in the morning. That was a legitimate problem. This isn't binge eating and I'm conscious for all of it. I'm awake, my stomach growls, I go and get a snack. They are gastric-bypass-friendly snacks, like sugar-free Jell-O or string cheese or a South Beach cereal bar. Sometimes I take a Muscle Milk back to bed with me, sip on it and finish it in the morning.

I eat so little now, I wonder if this is even a problem. If I could reliably sleep through the night, maybe I wouldn't want to eat. Sometimes I do sleep through the night, and usually the first thing I do in the morning is eat because I'm hungry.

I know in an ideal world, sleep isn't interrupted for food. I'm debating whether to even discuss this with the nutritionist or one of my doctors--I don't want to make more of it than it is. I'd be more worried if I wasn't losing weight, or if I was finding mystery crumbs and packaging in the morning.

The blahs

This is my last week at home with the ankle, barring natural disaster. I am REALLY getting stir crazy. My grandmother checked herself into the hospital a few days ago and it looks as though she will be going back to the same care facility. It took less than a month for this to happen; I hope they keep her this time, but the last time it was bungled so badly that I expect nothing. They've run a bunch of tests on her and don't know what the matter is. Though I'm not directly involved, it seems all I have to do is hear her name and I get a migraine--I've been fighting one for days.

I watched Michael Moore's movie "Sicko" yesterday, finally; it was great, but I have always been a fan of his, whatever medium he uses. Coincidentally, I had to call the insurance company today to try and find a laboratory in their network where I can have my bloodwork done. The insurance company gave me the numbers of four laboratories. Two of them were located in the Midwest. Two were in my state, but nowhere near being conveniently located; neither have Saturday hours, so I will have to miss work to get blood draws. It seems to be par for the course.

Splenda vs. Stevia

My nutritionists have indicated that Stevia is "better". Me being me, I wanted to know why. I bought a box of Splenda packets and a box of Stevia packets. After doing a taste test, I preferred the taste of Stevia. It takes a smaller amount for the same degree of sweetness, and there was not any kind of odd aftertaste with the Stevia--I barely noticed it was there. I also did some reading on the two.

Splenda's chemical sweetener, Sucralose, makes up about 5% of the product. Sucralose is basically sugar modified with chlorine. The other 95% of Splenda is Maltodextrin and Dextrose, which bulks up the volume of Splenda, making it seem less expensive than Stevia--the folks who sell NutraSweet do the same thing with aspartame. The glycemic index of Splenda is 80.

Stevia has zero carbs, zero glycemic index, and zero calories. There are no chemicals involved--it comes from an herb related to the chrysanthemum family, a plant native to Paraguay. Stevia leaves can taste up to 30 times sweeter than sugar. Some studies have shown the leaves contain proteins, fiber, carbs, iron, phosphorus, calcium, potassium, sodium, magnesium, zinc, and vitamins A and C.
Given the glycemic index or lack thereof, Stevia would be the safer choice for diabetics. People in South America have used Stevia to sweeten their food and beverages for centuries, and people in Korea, Japan and China have used it for the last two decades or so. It is becoming more widely used in the US all the time. It can be obtained in the leaves, in liquid form, or in the packets. The packets are the only thing I've tried.

Recently, Splenda has formulated a new variety that contains a gram of fiber in each packet. Since fiber is really hard to fit into a post-gastric bypass diet, I may have to bite the bullet and stick with the Splenda.

'Obese' 4-Month-Old Denied Insurance - Science & Health News Summaries | Newser

A Colorado couple is baffled that their baby has been denied health insurance coverage because of a preexisting condition: obesity. “I could understand if we could control what he's eating,” says the boy’s father. “But he's 4 months old. He's breast-feeding. We can't put him on the Atkins diet.” An insurance company exec understands the consternation but tells the Denver Post there’s nothing he can do. “Everybody else in the industry does it.”

Under company rules, individuals who place outside certain norms can’t be covered. Alex Lange is as big as a 9-month-old, in the 99th percentile for both height and weight, well above the 95th percentile cut-off. “If health care reform occurs, underwriting will go away,” the insurance exec says. That’s cold comfort for Alex’s parents, who are both slender and imagine he will be, too, once he starts crawling. “There is just something absurd about denying an infant,” dad says.

—Harry Kimball
Source: Denver Post
10/12/09

WTF is wrong with people??!?!?!?

Monday, Monday

It's dark in the morning now, and the cars are coated with frost. We actually turned the heat on a couple of days ago. I love cold weather, but for one thing: I hate getting out of bed, transferring from warm-snuggle mode to it's-morning-again mode. One of our cats, Mr. Stash, joins in the snuggling for about the last hour or two of the night, and so it was this morning; his purr sounds like an 18-wheeler. Mr. Salted went back to work today. He left about half an hour ago, and I miss him already.

My sci-fi monster leg is still rearing its ugly head. I tried calamine lotion and Ace bandage camouflage for the last couple of days and it didn't seem to help much. Today I'm trying a plain generic lotion and hydrocortisone cream combo with Ace bandage camouflage.

I'm a bad patient, probably because I'm not patient. It's hard for me not to walk on the bad foot--sometimes it's just easier to use it than strike some gymnastic pose on the knee scooter, balance, roll, and hope for the best. I think I would have lost my mind by now if it weren't for TV and this laptop, and my head is sufficiently back together to read books again; I have loads of those too. I just finished "Shadow of the Wind" by Carlos Ruiz Zafon, which was, in the words of reviewer Stephen King, "one gorgeous read". A friend just sent me Elizabeth Strout's "Olive Kitteredge" and I think that will be next.

I'm pleased today because the XXL yoga pants I got on clearance from Old Navy fit comfortably now. I watched some TV documentary the other day--I think it was "Secret Lives of Women" on WE--that featured three women who had lost significant amounts of weight. All of them became fitness buffs; one kept saying, "I was up to 200 POUNDS, I had to do something!" I refrained from throwing a pillow at the TV; I'd love to weigh 200 pounds. I'm not the only woman I know who would say that, either. I'm currently down to 231; now that I had this surgery, I hope to see 150 again. I remember 200 used to be my benchmark of doom too; back when I was bulimic and somewhere in the 170s or so, I said it over and over: "I will kill myself if I get to 200 pounds." I know that I meant it at the time, probably because it seemed implausible to me that I could get any bigger.

It's great that so many people lose lots of weight and get into fitness, but at the same time it can be off-putting and discouraging. One of the things that turned me off immediately about my exercise physiologist was the fact that he brought up me running a marathon at our first appointment. (There's about as much chance of me running a marathon as there is of Paris Hilton being invited into the Actor's Studio.) Personal trainers work wonders for some people, but I don't care for the dynamic at all. When I am cleared by the ankle surgeon, I plan to pick a pool and do some water aerobics or laps. My wellness center likes to preach accountability; the only one I want to be accountable to is myself; after all, I'm the one who has to live in my body AND my head. While their strong emphasis on follow-up after weight loss-surgery--particularly with the nutritionists--makes sense and has worked for many, they also seem to think that success can only be defined as they define it, where I think success has to be defined for each of us by each of us.

Saturday 9: Lie to Me

1. Can you tell when someone is lying to you?

99% of the time, yes.

2. Tell us about one of your flaws. Do you live with it or try to correct it?

I'm extremely impatient, and I try to do both.

3. When was the last time you laughed hard and what struck you as funny?

A parody of Kelis' song "Milkshake" in Victorianesque language: "My milkshake bringeth forth more menfolk to the yard. Verily, 'tis better than thine."

4. Tell us about a time when you should have tried harder.

I should have tried harder to make grad school work, but just didn't have it in me then. I'm considering grad school again, but I don't know that I have it in me now, either, and I really don't relish the thought of more debt. Sigh.

5. If you won the lottery, what would you buy first?

Real estate.

6. What movie do you know every word to?

"Grease", "Airplane!"

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

Getting to spend more time with my husband because he took vacation to be with me for the first ten days after the ankle surgery.

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

Having an allergic skin reaction to the boot that replaced the cast. I was up half the night with it and my leg still looks like a bad '50s sci-fi monster.

9. What do you think is the biggest difference between men and women?

That is a really tough question, because so much of the way individual men and women react has to do with societal gender roles and how much they do or don't buy into them. I don't know if there really is an answer.

This boot's not made for walking

I am now wearing a boot, kind of a combo of an '80s moon boot for snow and a platform sneaker of some kind, perhaps worn by KISS in casual mode (onstage, I'm pretty sure it's platform heels or nothing for them). It's heavier than the cast was, but a damn sight more comfortable. The doctor cleaned the wound and it helped, but no razor or lotion below the dressing site for a while longer (...what do you do with a dream deferred...?). I don't mind my doughy little pale leg in this photograph because you can see my new purse, which is my Favorite.Purse.Ever (to date--as a self-proclaimed purse addict, forever is a long time).

The nurse griped at me because I have resorted to putting some weight on my foot for balance if it meant the immediate difference between vertical and horizontal status, but my X-rays (hella-painful to pose for) apparently looked good. On the 26th of this month, I go back and will be cleared to start walking in the boot. A couple of weeks after that, I transfer to a brace with a regular shoe. (Hopefully, some of my existing shoes will accommodate a brace.) The doc gave me another scrip for Demerol and told me not to worry about still having pain only a week out.

I am glad to have the scooter, but it has its limitations. I took out part of the wall trying to get into our front bathroom yesterday.

I think I am still losing weight, which blows my mind. Clothes are still getting too big on a regular basis.

Lastly, I think I shall celebrate President Obama's Nobel Peace Prize today by watching AbFab DVDs and popping pain pills. God bless America.

Just add Demerol

My brain has left the building; I feel dumber than a bag of hammers. It must be the Demerol. I try not to take it all the time, but when my ankle starts hurting or hurts too much to sleep and enough time has elapsed, I take another one. People call me and I can barely carry on a conversation. I feel like reading a book is too much of a commitment; a magazine or a catalog is plenty. I have watched more bad TV in the last week than I care to even document. Usually, I have the laptop on at the same time as the bad TV and either go on Facebook or look at stuff I'd like to have but can't afford. I've spent many hours surfing Ebay. Yesterday I searched things that had "ugly" in the item description--ugly shoes, ugly lamp; it's a fairly entertaining time-killer. Give it a try sometime.

My cast itches worse by the day and it feels kind of loose now. My ankle just feels generally weird. I know there are screws in it, but they are the kind that absorb into the tissue and don't have to be removed. I swear I can feel them in there; I think the doctor cautioned me this would happen. It's hard to remember everything, but my week-after-surgery appointment is tomorrow. It will be my first time attempting to leave the house with the scooter. I believe this infernal cast will be removed on this momentous occasion, replaced by a Velcro-trimmed boot of some kind, which I will have the option of removing from time to time.

Wow. When the sum total of my dreams is equals washing my leg--lotion being the shining cherry on the cake of said dreams--I have no choice but to conclude: Yes. It is the Demerol.

Frappuccinos: the post-WLS reasonable facsimile

I miss Frappuccinos. Not the kind they mix up at the coffee place, though those are good, too. I always preferred the ones that came ready to drink in the little bottles. I liked the convenience, sometimes they were available on sale, and my cats always enjoyed chasing the crackly piece that sealed them shut. After gastric-bypass surgery, due to the sugar content, they are not an option.

The folks at BariatricEating.com carry a line of protein drinks that feel somewhat similar to Frappuccinos-in-a-bottle. Frankly, I am thrilled to come face to face with some much-desired flavor variety. Protein bullets are "fruit punch" or "orange sunshine"; Amino 2222 is fruit punch; Muscle Milk is chocolate or vanilla, the scarcely-available Muscle Milk mocha latte tasting like the MM chocolate; the Pure Protein shakes are chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, banana or cookies and cream, the last of which tastes suspiciously like the corresponding beverage's chocolate flavor also. There are some powders I have not yet tried on the Bariatric Eating site, but I have had bad luck with the powders so far. I have great expectations, however, due to the fact that there is some further flavor variety to be had. (My pocketbook forbids me trying more than one or two new of these things at a time.)

The brand of these drinks is Believe and they come in Soothing Chai Tea, Italian Cappuccino, and Mocha Latte. They have 20g of protein and 3.5 g sugar in each single-serving bottle.

I took the plunge and ordered a case of the chai tea, since I love chai tea, particularly iced. Initially, I found it a bit bland, but after adding two packets of Splenda it tastes great. I tried adding a teaspoon of vanilla extract as well, but that was too much. The Splenda made it perfect.

Low-energy day

Today could have been the prototype for a low-energy, recovering-from-surgery day. My beloved went to Costco and got me protein bullets; I watched the entire first season of "Hung" on HBO On Demand. I loves me some On Demand, and "Hung" is a pretty good show.

This afternoon, two big boxes of clothes arrived from one of my lovely lifelong friends who currently lives much too far away. I love them all, and the pants are the next size I'm going to be in, which is very cool. I also hit a 50% off clearance sale on Torrid.com and got some serious deals on foundation garments in dwindling sizes. (Oh, how I love Torrid. Dressing like a grownup is so overrated.) I also managed to bathe without assistance this morning, which was a huge triumph. It also allowed my beloved to snore loudly and peacefully for an extra hour or so. I am in favor of extra sleep whenever possible, and definitely in favor of my bathing independently. Asking for help = not my favorite thing.

I also weighed myself standing on my good foot, and weighed about what I thought I would. I am a little afraid of gaining while I recuperate, but that's rather neurotic given that my food and calorie intake is so limited. You can take the girl out of bulimia...

Quiet day

So here I am in a cast. The cats have been more affectionate than usual, as they tend to do when their people get sick. Mr. Salted has been doing everything, the poor guy. The most I've managed to do is help him fold laundry and get coupons together for grocery shopping.

I'm getting more adept at hopping, finding places to brace myself for support, and maneuvering the scooter. The scooter is great--the hardest part is having control while getting up or down from a seated position. My legs are getting all bruised and banged up from hitting them on the scooter--I still don't know quite where it ends and I begin. All three cats are afraid of the scooter. I have, however, caught one or another of them catloafing on the shower chair at random times.

My leg hurts quite a bit, more than I thought it would--I ran out of the liquid Demerol quickly and requested (and got) Demerol capsules. My bariatric surgery center said capsules should be okay since I am two months out--and it seems to be working fine. It just makes me sleepy and, above all else, stupid. (For the record, I'm not a fan of being stupid, but sleeping? Always welcome.)

I also forgot about the classic cast problem--yearning to itch. This thing comes off on the 8th and I get a boot.

I keep thinking, "I'm home! I have time and a laptop! I should be writing!!!" Then I think, mindless TV with random nap attacks sounds so much better. Sigh.

Ankle surgery

Ankle surgery was yesterday. The surgeon said it went well. My anesthesiologist was gorgeous (couldn't have been a day over thirty if that). I wanted to introduce him to my dear friend's 21-year-old daughter immediately. I told her I'd wait until I got the bill, then we can Google him and find out if he's single. For a brief moment, I turned into one of those women who says, "I would love for you to meet my granddaughter/daughter/niece/friend!" It was a strange feeling.

I checked into the hospital at 7:15, my procedure was at 9:30, and they discharged me about 1 pm. They had given me a block behind my knee in shot form--the shot hurt like hell because Dr. Gorgeous or Dr. Gorgeous' Assistant hit the nerve just right, causing the pain to run up and down the entire back of my leg. They gave me my general anesthetic shortly thereafter, and the next thing I knew, I was coming to in the recovery room.

When we got home, we were disappointed to discover that the suitcase ramp we bought on Craigslist for such a great price was too steep for me to use getting into the house. I ended up scooting backwards into the house on my butt. Maybe when I get more used to operating the knee scooter and am less loopy on Demerol, I can still master the ramp.

The block behind my knee kept my leg numb for the first 24 hours, but began wearing off today. When it did, I started taking the Demerol. It quiets the pain, but it still hurts. The cast is big and bulky and my leg is yellow from some weird iodine soap they used on it in surgery.

I'm getting used to the scooter, but wow. Mobility is something most people take for granted; when you lose it--even partially and temporarily, as this situation is--you realize what a blessing it is to be able to move normally.

They weighed me before surgery--233, so two pounds less than the day before (which is odd, but I'll take it!). That made me happy. It occurred to me this evening that I won't be ABLE to weigh myself until I can use this foot again. So, no obsessing about the number on the scale. It will almost feel like a vacation!