It's not easy to admit, but my mood has taken a real hit since surgery was cancelled. This process has been very difficult for me for reasons I'm choosing not to reveal in such an open forum. Suffice it to say, having to delay it has really affected me. I feel more depressed and sometimes that means I want to eat emotionally - which is never veggies, I can tell you that!
I'm on a newer mood stabilizer, but have maxed out the dose. It's another month until I see the nurse practitioner so for now, I deal.
What does that look like? It means getting as much sleep as I can. I have a bunch of chronic illnesses (doesn't it seem like it should be illni?) so sleep can often evade me. I must maintain good sleep hygiene. I try to steer clear of the junk food. While I'm only ever able to do small amounts anyway, it's best to try to avoid the junk totally. It means I keep all of my doctor appointments - with all doctors. It means taking all of my meds, except those I'm now under mandate to stop (vitamins and supplements, most of which I'm taking since the bariatric surgery and aspirin). It means trying to move... to do something physical. I haven't been back to the trainer since the week before surgery was rescheduled. I have an exercise bike here at the house and I'll ride that for several miles while streaming something to distract myself. I've also taken on the enormous task, both with and without my husband, of walking the dogs. The fresh air won't hurt -- when it's not snowing (can I say - what's up with April snow?? I suspect it doesn't bring May flowers... just sayin'). It means maintaining relationships and not isolating, but keeping good boundaries and making very intentional decisions about when and what I do so I don't overdo it. That's the short list. And it's exhausting.
Tonight it means I'm going to bed super early. I see the surgeon in the morning to get final clearance for surgery. I did see a dermatologist about a week and a half ago and she was going to send a letter to the surgeon offering her opinion (which would not pose a problem with surgery moving forward on Friday).
Yes, this is a short post.... you're welcome ;) But having a lot of stress in my life does pretty horrible things to my mood and I felt like addressing it here was somehow necessary.
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 3, 2018
Wednesday, February 7, 2018
How do you feel?
I often hear the statement "you must feel SO much better." Wow, define "better" if you would, please. Do I have a stamina for physical activity I lacked at 326 pounds? Without a doubt! Do I feel less ashamed by my appearance, especially when meeting new people or seeing people I haven't seen for years? For sure! Am I relieved to not be the proverbial (and literal, it felt like) elephant in the room while being totally invisible all at the same time? You bet!
But do I feel better? That's a loaded question in my world. You see, I feel. I feel deeply. I feel pain. I feel the pain of fibromyalgia. I feel the pain of a mental illness. I feel the pain of being a trauma survivor. Losing nearly half of my weight... well, that doesn't change those "feels." In fact, I can no longer try to eat away those feelings. I can't shove a bag of candy down my throat in an attempt to turn off feeling all of that. There is no box of cookies to numb that.
Losing nearly half of my body weight doesn't make me able to work again. It doesn't shut off all the reasons I became disabled in the first place. It's easy to assume, and I choose to presume a very innocent thing to tell me how much better I must be feeling. But if I'm being honest, this is probably the hardest thing I've ever done, so in some ways I feel worse. This isn't an easy fix - none of it is.
I know around any corner is a monster waiting to steal from me. Not in the physical sense. Not having my wallet taken or my car broken into. But stress is a thief. For me, stress is a direct arrow shooting towards a decline in my mental health. Stress is everywhere and I work hard to manage it, but I remain aware of the damage it can do to me in no time flat.
I don't harbor ill feelings towards anyone who says that to me, who assumes I'm "fixed" because of having lost so much weight. I walk away frustrated by the ignorance our society holds regarding so many of the issues I had at my highest weight.... issues that didn't disappear when the weight did.
I work with a trainer twice a week. Do I feel like getting up and going to work out? Not usually. I don't feel energetic enough lately to get out of bed and pushing my body to its limits. In fact, I'd rather do just about anything before going to that gym. But I do it. It doesn't feel good. I do it because I know I need to. I do it because I've worked too hard to gain back the weight I've lost.
This may sound like a bit of a pity party and it's not - I assure you.
I will say that at my highest weight, getting up in front of a group of people to work my direct sales business felt more overwhelming than there are words in the English language to describe. I have gained confidence - both from losing weight and from having a successful business. But let me define success - because it's not the same for any individual who's reading this. For me, working my business, staying an active Consultant, helping people - that is success. I was a social worker. It's in my blood to help people. Now helping just looks different than it did. I help people find solutions to problems. I help a local food bank or cancer center by doing a fundraiser. That...that is success. Will I ever be able to go as far in my education as I'd hoped? It's not likely. I was going to get my PsyD, possibly simultaneously getting my JD so I could be an advocate for those who can't advocate for themselves. But because of my chronic illnesses, furthering my education is unlikely. I have had to redefine success. I want to inspire people, help people, prompt positive change in people. That is success for me.
Has my weight loss story been a successful one (if you'll allow me to use the word in a different context)? I'd like to think so. In fact, exactly one month from today I'm scheduled to go in for a panniculectomy to have excess skin removed from my abdomen, pending insurance approval (praying for insurance approval). A surgeon doesn't even consider that procedure if someone hasn't been successful in their weight loss journey. It's a long and tedious operation. It carries some risk. But he sees it as a good thing for me. He feels confident that insurance will approve the surgery. Am I at my goal weight yet? Not exactly, although I'm a matter of a few pounds away from being HALF of what I was. I'll lose a few pounds of skin and that's a good thing. I don't have pictures to show since I last wrote. In fact, I've had a few difficult weeks and have put some food in my body that's not ideal. I won't get on the scale. I won't let those few bad weeks define my journey...my success. But this surgery feels like the next step.
So, I hope you accept my honesty and bluntness. But know that assuming anyone feels "so much better" because of no longer being super obese (the actual BMI category when my number was over 54) isn't a safe assumption. There was more to me than my 326 pounds and there is still so much more to me than my 167 pounds.
Do I feel better? That's complicated.
But do I feel better? That's a loaded question in my world. You see, I feel. I feel deeply. I feel pain. I feel the pain of fibromyalgia. I feel the pain of a mental illness. I feel the pain of being a trauma survivor. Losing nearly half of my weight... well, that doesn't change those "feels." In fact, I can no longer try to eat away those feelings. I can't shove a bag of candy down my throat in an attempt to turn off feeling all of that. There is no box of cookies to numb that.
Losing nearly half of my body weight doesn't make me able to work again. It doesn't shut off all the reasons I became disabled in the first place. It's easy to assume, and I choose to presume a very innocent thing to tell me how much better I must be feeling. But if I'm being honest, this is probably the hardest thing I've ever done, so in some ways I feel worse. This isn't an easy fix - none of it is.
I know around any corner is a monster waiting to steal from me. Not in the physical sense. Not having my wallet taken or my car broken into. But stress is a thief. For me, stress is a direct arrow shooting towards a decline in my mental health. Stress is everywhere and I work hard to manage it, but I remain aware of the damage it can do to me in no time flat.
I don't harbor ill feelings towards anyone who says that to me, who assumes I'm "fixed" because of having lost so much weight. I walk away frustrated by the ignorance our society holds regarding so many of the issues I had at my highest weight.... issues that didn't disappear when the weight did.
I work with a trainer twice a week. Do I feel like getting up and going to work out? Not usually. I don't feel energetic enough lately to get out of bed and pushing my body to its limits. In fact, I'd rather do just about anything before going to that gym. But I do it. It doesn't feel good. I do it because I know I need to. I do it because I've worked too hard to gain back the weight I've lost.
This may sound like a bit of a pity party and it's not - I assure you.
I will say that at my highest weight, getting up in front of a group of people to work my direct sales business felt more overwhelming than there are words in the English language to describe. I have gained confidence - both from losing weight and from having a successful business. But let me define success - because it's not the same for any individual who's reading this. For me, working my business, staying an active Consultant, helping people - that is success. I was a social worker. It's in my blood to help people. Now helping just looks different than it did. I help people find solutions to problems. I help a local food bank or cancer center by doing a fundraiser. That...that is success. Will I ever be able to go as far in my education as I'd hoped? It's not likely. I was going to get my PsyD, possibly simultaneously getting my JD so I could be an advocate for those who can't advocate for themselves. But because of my chronic illnesses, furthering my education is unlikely. I have had to redefine success. I want to inspire people, help people, prompt positive change in people. That is success for me.
Has my weight loss story been a successful one (if you'll allow me to use the word in a different context)? I'd like to think so. In fact, exactly one month from today I'm scheduled to go in for a panniculectomy to have excess skin removed from my abdomen, pending insurance approval (praying for insurance approval). A surgeon doesn't even consider that procedure if someone hasn't been successful in their weight loss journey. It's a long and tedious operation. It carries some risk. But he sees it as a good thing for me. He feels confident that insurance will approve the surgery. Am I at my goal weight yet? Not exactly, although I'm a matter of a few pounds away from being HALF of what I was. I'll lose a few pounds of skin and that's a good thing. I don't have pictures to show since I last wrote. In fact, I've had a few difficult weeks and have put some food in my body that's not ideal. I won't get on the scale. I won't let those few bad weeks define my journey...my success. But this surgery feels like the next step.
So, I hope you accept my honesty and bluntness. But know that assuming anyone feels "so much better" because of no longer being super obese (the actual BMI category when my number was over 54) isn't a safe assumption. There was more to me than my 326 pounds and there is still so much more to me than my 167 pounds.
Do I feel better? That's complicated.
Sunday, July 10, 2016
New Experiences - 46 Days Out (this number has changed many times as I continue to write, and write, and write....)
Wow, this has been a crazy time! I'm sorry I've neglected this for so long. I started to write a couple of weeks ago, but then... well... life just got in the way.
Where to start?
Part of the delay was some pain I'm having. It's all along the left side of my abdomen and the LRNP said that it wasn't pain I should be having at this stage, so I had an unexpected visit downtown. Thankfully hubby was able to take off. She (the LRNP) said that it's unlikely the pain is surgery-related, but they ordered a few tests just to see if they can determine what is causing it. I'm waiting on the results of one; the other required a pre-cert and I didn't get the info to schedule until it was too late, so I'll be calling for that appointment on Monday. I do hope they figure this out! Actually, just today (Saturday), hubby and I were out running some errands and wandering the mall - I haven't been able to walk the mall in years. I realized I could go to Chick-fil-A and get grilled nuggets. I got the 8-piece, but could only finish 5. I'll know to get the children's portion next time. Then I had to wait 30 minutes to drink, which about killed me. On top of that, I had my ongoing clothing frustrations (more about that below) and I was having some arthritis pain (you don't spend much time being morbidly obese before your body rebels!). We left to head to our main destination, and one of my absolute favorite stores - The Container Store!!!!! Unfortunately the abdominal pain increased dramatically, almost out of the blue, so hubby knew something was wrong when I wanted to leave there... and not even stop at Target on the way home. So here I sit, protein shake in next to me, typing away.
Now, I had my first experience at a restaurant. I was super anxious. A few days prior I had a hamburger and it didn't sit well. Dinner was planned for hubby's birthday and my parents were taking us to a steak and seafood restaurant. I called the dietitian in a hurry! She pulled up the menu on her computer and we went through the menu over the phone (did I mention how wonderful she is?). I assumed I'd get the scallop appetizer, but the menu didn't make it as straight-forward as it used to be; I also never paid attention before and it is a sauteed dish, therefore cooked in butter - a big no-no. We worked together to figure out a plan and a few days later, we headed down to my folks'.
The day came and I feltsomewhat not-at-all prepared. I have a letter from my surgeon saying that I've had an operation and that I should be permitted to order a lesser amount of food (off the children's menu, if need be) for a proportionate cost. I was armed going into the restaurant. My parents go here often, so they have a favorite server and asked for her. While we were being seated, my father graciously took the server aside and advised her of my situation. She was wonderful and told me to order what I want/need from the menu and the chef would make it work. I did get the scallops, grilled, along with some asparagus. I wasn't able to finish the 4 scallops, so by bariatric "law" (of my program), I didn't have any of the veggie. I love vegetables, so this is killing me! But rules dictate that I eat my 3 oz of protein before I have my ounce of veggie. And I held firm to the rules.
Major Eating/Lifestyle Changes:
I had my first session with my food/eating therapist since surgery. She's a real cheerleader for me and my journey and reminds me all the time how far I've come and how much I'm doing to follow the strict rules. I don't take compliments terribly well, so it's a bit like water-off-a-duck's-back, but she knows that. I had the same experience with my psychiatrist earlier this week. I've always been hard on myself, so it's not something new. The only person on my mental health team who has supported me throughout the entire process is my psychologist. (the food therapist is new). The psychiatrists I've seen in the past (especially the one I saw for the longest time - 9 years, I think) would have just set up another appointment and said they'd see me after surgery. All 3 of these people wanted to know as soon as possible how surgery went. My psychiatrist was really happy - surprised even - that hubby emailed her not long after the surgery was over. She thanked me/him for that and I thanked her for caring enough to ask. I haven't even been seeing her a year and she's done everything to encourage me and support this process. When I talked of the financial hardship of seeing a second therapist, she didn't think twice and told me to see her less often if that would help. She's there by email and phone if I need her.
I had an appt at the neurologist's office and talked with her about decreasing doses on some of the meds they have me on for my migraines, because they can also be used for psych purposes. They are older meds and have a greater chance to cause weight gain - working against what I'm working to do! In conjunction with my psychiatrist, I am cutting one of the biggest offenders in half (to start) and the other I take 1200 mg 3x/day and that is being cut to 900 mg 3x/day. I hope to be off my cholesterol med by the Fall, and even though my psychiatrist added back in one med (I went off it due to a variety of screw-ups) I can just pray that she will take me off the one I currently take once I'm up to a therapeutic dose.
Clothes: I'm finally starting to find myself shrinking out of clothes. I was so frustrated being stuck in the same size clothes as 50 lbs ago! But just within the past 1-2 weeks I've noticed that my shirts are sliding down my shoulders and my bra straps are showing. That hasn't been the case in nearly forever! My old body had a fairly basic pound to size ratio. When I was 310 lbs, I wore a 30/32. I'm under 250 - oh right... did I mention that I'm UNDER 250 ???? I don't remember the last time that was the case, so my mind keeps saying that I should be in a 24/26, but that's not totally the case. It wasn't a science before, but now it's all over the place. I did go this afternoon to a Catherine's outlet store. I don't want to spend a ton of money on clothes, since I just don't know what size to buy and I'll say it again - I definitely do NOT want to spend a lot of money! So, I left empty-handed, but have become friendly with one of the employees, so we chatted for a bit and that was nice. The same has been true for all of my shopping escapades of late. It turns into one big frustrating mess! I'm going to wind up naked before I know it - and nobody wants to see that!
I had a appointment in the town where I grew up, so met some friends for lunch afterwards. In talking with one of my friends she asked where I wanted to go. I haven't lived there in over 20 years, so I'm not entirely sure what the options were. In talking with her, I said that breakfast is easy for me, since I can just order eggs. We decided on a place. When I walked in, all I saw were booths. In the past, this was fear-inducing. Will I fit? Will I be able to breathe? Will my belly wind up hanging onto the table? Will people stare? Last week, though - no problem! Plus, inches to spare! For anyone who's struggled with obesity that's a huge accomplishment (no pun intended). Part of me can't wait to go to our local diner. I haven't been there in many months and I'm eager to just sit down and not have to request a table - that's awfully embarrassing... or even more embarrassing is them asking if a booth is ok. This is one check in the "win" box!
Another great thing about that lunch is that I haven't seen these women in over 2 years. It was wonderful catching up in person and not just via Facebook posts and messages or texts. But, while they know this is the path I'm on now, I haven't posted any recent photographs, so I was almost giddy at their reactions. I know, it still falls under the "water-off-a-duck's-back" concept, but it was still really nice to hear. Like my doctor/surgeon says, I'm with me everyday. It's only those who don't see me for a long stretch who will really notice.
I'd been slacking a bit with exercise, but also found myself unhappy with my weight loss numbers. I'm the only one who can change that, so I sucked up the pain (to a certain level - I still have to listen to my body) and hopped back on that bike. With having a TV in that room, I can stream shows and movies through amazon prime and not have to pay for an additional FiOS box. At this point, I'm doing about 7 miles in between 23-26 minutes. I have yet to put on that bathing suit and jump into the pool for water aerobics. With my mood all over the place I am not finding the energy to get up and at 'em in time. Hence my time on the bike (plus I don't have to leave the house - huge bonus some days).
Jewelry is also an issue for larger or obese women. It's not something I'd considered before it became an issue. Necklaces don't fit properly and if they do, they become chokers when they're not meant to be. I also kept having to get a larger and larger band to wear as a wedding ring. One Christmas, hubby got my original rings sized. I cried because it was the best gift. It made me feel normal again (if that makes sense). Now those rings are getting loose. Because of the heat, they aren't in danger of falling off, but I have to keep a eye on them so I don't lose them once the weather cools. Also, out of curiosity I tried on my college ring and wouldn't you know it fit? Such an amazing feeling. I still weigh (probably) 70 lbs more than I did then, but the fact that I could get it on and not have to cut if off was another win! I won't be wearing it anytime soon, but I moved the infinity ring hubs got me for Christmas to another finger so I could get used to it there and be prepared to wear my college ring again! Woo hoo!
This may sound really odd to someone who hasn't had the experience of losing significant weight, particularly when it's rapid, but skin starts to sag. It's not pretty, but it's all part of the journey. Well, I noticed the other day that my arm flab was less taut than it used to be. Yes, that's right, I'm having skin sag! It's hard to explain it, but it's a good feeling. I'm trying not to think about skin surgery so early in my journey, but it's something I may consider down the road, depending on the condition of my body when all's said and done. Insurance doesn't typically pay for it because they see it as cosmetic so it would create a rather sizable financial burden. At the same time, having this skin issue could create other problems, medical problems. One thing at a time, though. It was just exciting that there was some evidence I was able to see!
Now, this last one is still a source of anxiety for me. In a couple of months, we are going on vacation. The dietitian said to cross that hurdle when I come to it, but it's still a big uncertainty. Food is usually a big part of vacation. You get to eat out and have some foods you would otherwise avoid (have you heard of funnel fries -- YUM!). But this year will be vastly different. I don't want the Mr. to miss out on the yummy things they have there. I also treat myself to a drink or two while we're on vacation and that's a big no-no. I'll work around it and the dietitian will coach me before we go so I have ideas for restaurants. I have the protein bars, some of which are actually delicious. I can take stuff down to make protein shakes. I just don't want to be limited to chicken for all of my restaurant meals. I do know of one place with amazing scallops; they just can't be sauteed because of the butter. But I'm sure they will grill or broil, just like the steakhouse for hubby's birthday.
I know this has been a crazy-long post and thank you if you made it all the way through. Please forgive any disjointedness or typos but I've been writing like crazy to not delay this any longer and to make sure I didn't forget anything. I know there have been people who have expressed interest in this blog and how they have found support through it or are considering the surgery and want to read more. I can't tell you how much that means to you. Part of the reason I decided to make this blog public was to help even one person. Please, please, please, ask questions! You can bet I'll be honest. Heck, at this point it's all on the table anyway. Also, don't hesitate to join the site; you'll get an alert when I post in the event that I forget to put in on FB. You can find it in a blue box on the right side, below all of my profile info and right about "followers."
Well, hopefully things will get less eventful, although every day finds something new - a new food my tastebuds like and my body agrees with (or the opposite), or what exercise has been working and what may be causing some unnecessary pain. I'll also try to check in more often so you don't feel like you've just finished reading a bad novel by the time you reach the end.
Where to start?
Part of the delay was some pain I'm having. It's all along the left side of my abdomen and the LRNP said that it wasn't pain I should be having at this stage, so I had an unexpected visit downtown. Thankfully hubby was able to take off. She (the LRNP) said that it's unlikely the pain is surgery-related, but they ordered a few tests just to see if they can determine what is causing it. I'm waiting on the results of one; the other required a pre-cert and I didn't get the info to schedule until it was too late, so I'll be calling for that appointment on Monday. I do hope they figure this out! Actually, just today (Saturday), hubby and I were out running some errands and wandering the mall - I haven't been able to walk the mall in years. I realized I could go to Chick-fil-A and get grilled nuggets. I got the 8-piece, but could only finish 5. I'll know to get the children's portion next time. Then I had to wait 30 minutes to drink, which about killed me. On top of that, I had my ongoing clothing frustrations (more about that below) and I was having some arthritis pain (you don't spend much time being morbidly obese before your body rebels!). We left to head to our main destination, and one of my absolute favorite stores - The Container Store!!!!! Unfortunately the abdominal pain increased dramatically, almost out of the blue, so hubby knew something was wrong when I wanted to leave there... and not even stop at Target on the way home. So here I sit, protein shake in next to me, typing away.
Now, I had my first experience at a restaurant. I was super anxious. A few days prior I had a hamburger and it didn't sit well. Dinner was planned for hubby's birthday and my parents were taking us to a steak and seafood restaurant. I called the dietitian in a hurry! She pulled up the menu on her computer and we went through the menu over the phone (did I mention how wonderful she is?). I assumed I'd get the scallop appetizer, but the menu didn't make it as straight-forward as it used to be; I also never paid attention before and it is a sauteed dish, therefore cooked in butter - a big no-no. We worked together to figure out a plan and a few days later, we headed down to my folks'.
The day came and I felt
Major Eating/Lifestyle Changes:
- stop drinking 15 minutes before eating
- take at a minimum, 30 minutes to eat (preferably more with the amount of nausea I've had); because of this, I've gotten used to finishing my meals cold.
- eat 4 oz meals, getting 60-80 oz of protein in daily (historically, people in my specific program have had a higher rate of success with having a protein shake/bar for one meal per day). It may not be logical, but different doctors/programs have different rules - both pre-op and post-op. It's not like removing a gall bladder or fixing a torn ligament.
- as I mentioned before, I am now permitted 1 oz of veggies and 3 oz of protein, but the protein must, must, must come first. Greek yogurt is an excellent source of protein so a number of the bariatric recipes I have include that as an ingredient, or I'll just have a cup of cherry (or whatever) and it has 12(!!!) grams of protein.
- meals should be between 3-4 hours apart
- do not drink until 30 minutes after eating (this one has been the most difficult, I think... we're all so used to drinking throughout our meals, so to not pick up my glass until 30 minutes after I'm through is an enormous change -- try it... it's HARD!)
- it is absolutely necessary to get in 64 oz - at the very least 50 oz - of water/Crystal Light (something with no caffeine, no sugar and non-carbonated) daily; dehydration is the number one reason for people to be re-admitted following surgery
I had my first session with my food/eating therapist since surgery. She's a real cheerleader for me and my journey and reminds me all the time how far I've come and how much I'm doing to follow the strict rules. I don't take compliments terribly well, so it's a bit like water-off-a-duck's-back, but she knows that. I had the same experience with my psychiatrist earlier this week. I've always been hard on myself, so it's not something new. The only person on my mental health team who has supported me throughout the entire process is my psychologist. (the food therapist is new). The psychiatrists I've seen in the past (especially the one I saw for the longest time - 9 years, I think) would have just set up another appointment and said they'd see me after surgery. All 3 of these people wanted to know as soon as possible how surgery went. My psychiatrist was really happy - surprised even - that hubby emailed her not long after the surgery was over. She thanked me/him for that and I thanked her for caring enough to ask. I haven't even been seeing her a year and she's done everything to encourage me and support this process. When I talked of the financial hardship of seeing a second therapist, she didn't think twice and told me to see her less often if that would help. She's there by email and phone if I need her.
I had an appt at the neurologist's office and talked with her about decreasing doses on some of the meds they have me on for my migraines, because they can also be used for psych purposes. They are older meds and have a greater chance to cause weight gain - working against what I'm working to do! In conjunction with my psychiatrist, I am cutting one of the biggest offenders in half (to start) and the other I take 1200 mg 3x/day and that is being cut to 900 mg 3x/day. I hope to be off my cholesterol med by the Fall, and even though my psychiatrist added back in one med (I went off it due to a variety of screw-ups) I can just pray that she will take me off the one I currently take once I'm up to a therapeutic dose.
Clothes: I'm finally starting to find myself shrinking out of clothes. I was so frustrated being stuck in the same size clothes as 50 lbs ago! But just within the past 1-2 weeks I've noticed that my shirts are sliding down my shoulders and my bra straps are showing. That hasn't been the case in nearly forever! My old body had a fairly basic pound to size ratio. When I was 310 lbs, I wore a 30/32. I'm under 250 - oh right... did I mention that I'm UNDER 250 ???? I don't remember the last time that was the case, so my mind keeps saying that I should be in a 24/26, but that's not totally the case. It wasn't a science before, but now it's all over the place. I did go this afternoon to a Catherine's outlet store. I don't want to spend a ton of money on clothes, since I just don't know what size to buy and I'll say it again - I definitely do NOT want to spend a lot of money! So, I left empty-handed, but have become friendly with one of the employees, so we chatted for a bit and that was nice. The same has been true for all of my shopping escapades of late. It turns into one big frustrating mess! I'm going to wind up naked before I know it - and nobody wants to see that!
I had a appointment in the town where I grew up, so met some friends for lunch afterwards. In talking with one of my friends she asked where I wanted to go. I haven't lived there in over 20 years, so I'm not entirely sure what the options were. In talking with her, I said that breakfast is easy for me, since I can just order eggs. We decided on a place. When I walked in, all I saw were booths. In the past, this was fear-inducing. Will I fit? Will I be able to breathe? Will my belly wind up hanging onto the table? Will people stare? Last week, though - no problem! Plus, inches to spare! For anyone who's struggled with obesity that's a huge accomplishment (no pun intended). Part of me can't wait to go to our local diner. I haven't been there in many months and I'm eager to just sit down and not have to request a table - that's awfully embarrassing... or even more embarrassing is them asking if a booth is ok. This is one check in the "win" box!
Another great thing about that lunch is that I haven't seen these women in over 2 years. It was wonderful catching up in person and not just via Facebook posts and messages or texts. But, while they know this is the path I'm on now, I haven't posted any recent photographs, so I was almost giddy at their reactions. I know, it still falls under the "water-off-a-duck's-back" concept, but it was still really nice to hear. Like my doctor/surgeon says, I'm with me everyday. It's only those who don't see me for a long stretch who will really notice.
I'd been slacking a bit with exercise, but also found myself unhappy with my weight loss numbers. I'm the only one who can change that, so I sucked up the pain (to a certain level - I still have to listen to my body) and hopped back on that bike. With having a TV in that room, I can stream shows and movies through amazon prime and not have to pay for an additional FiOS box. At this point, I'm doing about 7 miles in between 23-26 minutes. I have yet to put on that bathing suit and jump into the pool for water aerobics. With my mood all over the place I am not finding the energy to get up and at 'em in time. Hence my time on the bike (plus I don't have to leave the house - huge bonus some days).
Jewelry is also an issue for larger or obese women. It's not something I'd considered before it became an issue. Necklaces don't fit properly and if they do, they become chokers when they're not meant to be. I also kept having to get a larger and larger band to wear as a wedding ring. One Christmas, hubby got my original rings sized. I cried because it was the best gift. It made me feel normal again (if that makes sense). Now those rings are getting loose. Because of the heat, they aren't in danger of falling off, but I have to keep a eye on them so I don't lose them once the weather cools. Also, out of curiosity I tried on my college ring and wouldn't you know it fit? Such an amazing feeling. I still weigh (probably) 70 lbs more than I did then, but the fact that I could get it on and not have to cut if off was another win! I won't be wearing it anytime soon, but I moved the infinity ring hubs got me for Christmas to another finger so I could get used to it there and be prepared to wear my college ring again! Woo hoo!
This may sound really odd to someone who hasn't had the experience of losing significant weight, particularly when it's rapid, but skin starts to sag. It's not pretty, but it's all part of the journey. Well, I noticed the other day that my arm flab was less taut than it used to be. Yes, that's right, I'm having skin sag! It's hard to explain it, but it's a good feeling. I'm trying not to think about skin surgery so early in my journey, but it's something I may consider down the road, depending on the condition of my body when all's said and done. Insurance doesn't typically pay for it because they see it as cosmetic so it would create a rather sizable financial burden. At the same time, having this skin issue could create other problems, medical problems. One thing at a time, though. It was just exciting that there was some evidence I was able to see!
Now, this last one is still a source of anxiety for me. In a couple of months, we are going on vacation. The dietitian said to cross that hurdle when I come to it, but it's still a big uncertainty. Food is usually a big part of vacation. You get to eat out and have some foods you would otherwise avoid (have you heard of funnel fries -- YUM!). But this year will be vastly different. I don't want the Mr. to miss out on the yummy things they have there. I also treat myself to a drink or two while we're on vacation and that's a big no-no. I'll work around it and the dietitian will coach me before we go so I have ideas for restaurants. I have the protein bars, some of which are actually delicious. I can take stuff down to make protein shakes. I just don't want to be limited to chicken for all of my restaurant meals. I do know of one place with amazing scallops; they just can't be sauteed because of the butter. But I'm sure they will grill or broil, just like the steakhouse for hubby's birthday.
I know this has been a crazy-long post and thank you if you made it all the way through. Please forgive any disjointedness or typos but I've been writing like crazy to not delay this any longer and to make sure I didn't forget anything. I know there have been people who have expressed interest in this blog and how they have found support through it or are considering the surgery and want to read more. I can't tell you how much that means to you. Part of the reason I decided to make this blog public was to help even one person. Please, please, please, ask questions! You can bet I'll be honest. Heck, at this point it's all on the table anyway. Also, don't hesitate to join the site; you'll get an alert when I post in the event that I forget to put in on FB. You can find it in a blue box on the right side, below all of my profile info and right about "followers."
Well, hopefully things will get less eventful, although every day finds something new - a new food my tastebuds like and my body agrees with (or the opposite), or what exercise has been working and what may be causing some unnecessary pain. I'll also try to check in more often so you don't feel like you've just finished reading a bad novel by the time you reach the end.
Monday, June 20, 2016
Day 27 and Moodiness Abounds (Not to Mention Some Serious Anxiety)
I won't be weighing again until tomorrow, but I felt like I had to write.
I don't know if this is a common experience among bariatric patients, but I'm moody as all get-out. This has been happening for weeks now, but the past 48 hours have been especially difficult. I'm not exactly sure why. I know that I'm frustrated trying to figure out what to eat as I'm back on "human" food. There is a question about what came directly from the program with my doctor and dietitian and what I may have printed out from other sites. I really thought I'd only printed info from the program I used, but now I'm questioning myself and it's driving me crazy! I've been through my hospital's program over and over and can't even find what I know came from them! I'm losing my mind and getting more frustrated along the way.
I'm anxious about starting on real food, about what my pouch will tolerate and about leaving the house when I'm trying new foods. I made my final batch of pureed food today; just 2 meals left. But AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! This is scary. I haven't had real food since the middle of last month (and then there was only a few weeks prior to that when I did 2 weeks of liquids to prep for the failure). Can I eat veggies? Will my pouch allow meat? What about eating out? Keith's birthday is this week and we'll be going out to eat. I'm now supposed to have 3 oz of a high protein food and then 1 oz of veggies. But what can I eat? What should I eat? What will I eat? Will it be accepted by my sleeve?
I had gone through my bathing suits and found 2 or 3 which currently fit. I wasall mostly ready to go to water aerobics. Yesterday Keith and I went and checked out the gym so I knew where I was going, etc. I got halfway there and realized that I didn't have the lock for a locker. I wasn't about to leave my keys and wallet in an unsecured locker. Well, I got home and was SO frustrated. I admit that I was angry, thinking that Keith was the last one to touch it and he must have put it somewhere and that I didn't know where it was. Please, forgive me Keith. My anger was unfounded. I went again to check the bedroom and found the lock tucked in the quilt folds. I felt like such an idiot. My anger was for nothing and had I looked closer, I would have found it and been able to start water aerobics. Wednesday I know I won't be able to go for the class (which is fine; I can always go and walk the pool). The days I have afternoon appointments will be difficult to do the class, but somehow I have to make it work. Hey, I'll (probably) be starting at the 4 week mark. That's not half bad, huh??
That anger has really affected my mood, making it worse than it was already. I'm so ticked off! I can't handle going deeper into the darkness. I have worked so hard to make this surgery successful and I don't know how to separate the two. I started out with this stupid mental illness. I know that losing weight wasn't going to make the depression disappear. I've felt pretty good for the better part of the past several months (minus the week following the failure). Now I feel like I'm back where I started.
What the heck is going on? I'm totally unmotivated as far as the exercise is concerned. I have no interest in even getting on the bike, in spite of having the TV up there and some cool amazon prime streaming shows/movies. I've said all along, I worked so hard to make this surgery happen. The doctor visits. The tests. The clearances. The liquid diet - twice. The pureed diet. Now, the fear of returning to real food tomorrow. If my emotional state gets in the way of that, I'm not sure how I'll cope with that. I so desperately want to go off my meds, especially those which have weight gain as a common side effect. I NEED to be successful. This is the final attempt to get this fat off. I weigh myself tomorrow and have to have lost weight or I think I'll lose my mind (even more)!
Thanks for taking the time to read this. I know I've rambled about this emotion thing. It's just such a big part of who I am. I return to my food/eating therapist this week. We'll see how that goes..... Thanks again!
I don't know if this is a common experience among bariatric patients, but I'm moody as all get-out. This has been happening for weeks now, but the past 48 hours have been especially difficult. I'm not exactly sure why. I know that I'm frustrated trying to figure out what to eat as I'm back on "human" food. There is a question about what came directly from the program with my doctor and dietitian and what I may have printed out from other sites. I really thought I'd only printed info from the program I used, but now I'm questioning myself and it's driving me crazy! I've been through my hospital's program over and over and can't even find what I know came from them! I'm losing my mind and getting more frustrated along the way.
I'm anxious about starting on real food, about what my pouch will tolerate and about leaving the house when I'm trying new foods. I made my final batch of pureed food today; just 2 meals left. But AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! This is scary. I haven't had real food since the middle of last month (and then there was only a few weeks prior to that when I did 2 weeks of liquids to prep for the failure). Can I eat veggies? Will my pouch allow meat? What about eating out? Keith's birthday is this week and we'll be going out to eat. I'm now supposed to have 3 oz of a high protein food and then 1 oz of veggies. But what can I eat? What should I eat? What will I eat? Will it be accepted by my sleeve?
I had gone through my bathing suits and found 2 or 3 which currently fit. I was
That anger has really affected my mood, making it worse than it was already. I'm so ticked off! I can't handle going deeper into the darkness. I have worked so hard to make this surgery successful and I don't know how to separate the two. I started out with this stupid mental illness. I know that losing weight wasn't going to make the depression disappear. I've felt pretty good for the better part of the past several months (minus the week following the failure). Now I feel like I'm back where I started.
What the heck is going on? I'm totally unmotivated as far as the exercise is concerned. I have no interest in even getting on the bike, in spite of having the TV up there and some cool amazon prime streaming shows/movies. I've said all along, I worked so hard to make this surgery happen. The doctor visits. The tests. The clearances. The liquid diet - twice. The pureed diet. Now, the fear of returning to real food tomorrow. If my emotional state gets in the way of that, I'm not sure how I'll cope with that. I so desperately want to go off my meds, especially those which have weight gain as a common side effect. I NEED to be successful. This is the final attempt to get this fat off. I weigh myself tomorrow and have to have lost weight or I think I'll lose my mind (even more)!
Thanks for taking the time to read this. I know I've rambled about this emotion thing. It's just such a big part of who I am. I return to my food/eating therapist this week. We'll see how that goes..... Thanks again!
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
Day 7 Post-Op
Alrighty then... Where to start?
Surgery day was a long one! After an initial call to arrive at the hospital at 11:15, they called later and asked if 8:45 would work. Heck yeah! The earlier the better. It meant leaving the house super early because of traffic headed downtown, but that's not at all a complaint! I got changed into the hospital gown (the paper pre-op one -- it does have cute little paw prints on it, though), my Pastor and a church friend who had come to the last "attempt" arrived and we sat. And sat. And sat. I think they finally took me back to the pre-op area around 1 pm. Certainly none of us expected that. I was there for a bit as the struggled to find a vein. Again, they found one good enough to put me under and poked, prodded, stuck and tortured my poor body before even beginning the surgery. One interesting note: I had anesthesiologists on either side of me looking for veins.
One of them finally went and got a vein finder (image courtesy of http://www.qtechnologiesgroup.co.uk/local-community-fundraise-for-new-vein-finder-accuvein/) although I have no idea of the brand. I was too busy watching this thing and sort of fascinated by it. I've always had difficult veins. Pretty cool, right?
Perhaps I should pick one of these up (for upteen dollars) and carry it with me! Yes, so while the vein finder was keeping my attention to my right, the woman on the left found a vein good enough to get me under. I'll tell you, when I woke up I found all sorts of bandages from failed attempts. Hey, at least I was asleep, right?
The one thing One of the things I wasn't expecting was having a jugular central line. The doc wanted to be on the safe side and said it's the easiest way to get meds to elevate blood pressure, should that happen again. Sadly, they kept it in the entire time and it was a bit annoying, but I survived.
Remembering that I am.... well.... me, things didn't go 100% as planned and the surgeon found adhesions from my gall bladder removal which he had to address. Once that was out of the way, he proceeded forward.
Something else I wasn't expecting was the level of pain and the amount of nausea. Sure I knew there would be a ton, especially the first day, but when, by day 3, I was still having a hard time getting down the mandatory 4 oz of water hourly, I was taken aback. Heck, once I had 5 oz and was sure I was going to lose it. Yep, that's how small my stomach is - well, at least when it's all swollen and irritated from surgery. While the surgery went (mostly) according to plan, I was given the option to stay at the hospital until Friday, while most leave on Thursday. I was up and lapping the unit and was keeping up with my fluids so was ok'd to leave on Thursday. I decided that I'll heal better with more sleep - because honestly, does anyone actually sleep in the hospital? They gave me a special pillow to push against my belly when I cough or laugh or do anything else that puts strain on my core muscles and it has helped a lot. So I know I'm super out-of-shape, but I had NO idea how often I use my core muscles. Just getting in and out of a chair or (forgive me) on and off the toilet was downright excruciating the 2nd day (after they removed the catheter).
Sleep. It's not as easy as one would think. I'm not allowed to twist, nor am I to bend from the waist or lift more than 15 lbs. It's absolutely better than being jabbed and poked all night long. However, even sleeping in my usual position has me twisting a bit, which I never realized. I have taken pillows and propped my middle section up a bit so I'm more aligned. Bert, unfortunately, likes to lay there; it's his nighttime spot. I've had to "encourage" him to move more than once since Thursday.
I'm keeping a book with everything that comes in (and goes out) of my body, as well as pain levels and I am supposed to take my temperature twice daily. That all goes in my book. I'm also keeping a general mood record in there for my personal record-keeping. With my follow-up on Thursday, I don't want my horrible memory to kick in and wind up saying "I don't know" to a bunch of really important questions.
I'm still doing the liquid diet and am to get 4-6 oz hourly of liquid. I started off with ginger tea when I first got home (iced it like crazy) and am now doing Crystal Light, and even doing some broth and consumee. Some nights what Keith makes for himself smells delicious, but always simultaneously makes me nauseas. That Thursday (although it may have been Wednesday -- it's so easy to lose time in the hospital) the nurse told me she was all-but prohibited from giving me anti-nausea meds. This will be my "new normal" for a bit and I have to get used to it. So, I've toughened up and done what I can. Thankfully, all has stayed down.
I think I've mentioned before that I fear my depression meds will decrease my metabolism, hence slow my weight loss. The surgery will absolutely affect my meds and how they are absorbed. I don't know if that means I will have to decrease (hopefully) or increase dosages. I also had normal blood pressure in the hospital and since I was being monitored 24/7 and not getting any BP meds, the doc sent me home not taking it. My PCP was ok with that. My sugars were also normal given that I was on a constant "sugar saline" drip.
I have essentially stopped pain meds, although did take a dose of liquid (i.e., kids) Tylenol for a headache. There's no need to take narcotics for that. I'll speak with the LRNP at my post-op appointment this week about what vitamins and supplements I should take. I actually like the calcium - it's a nice sweet treat twice a day.
Poly was in daycare today (and all week). Since I'm not allowed to bend over at the waist, I can't put her leash on and since she won't come when she's called (and will bark like a maniac), she needs to be leashed. Casey has been bummed today, but he's good for me. I just wish I could sit in the sofa with him so I could snuggle. I think a good snuggle would do me good.
This evening, hubby had to rush home from work to pick up Poly from work so he could help me get Bert in the carrier so we could take him to the vet. Just to add to the stress going on right now, Bert has to stay at the vet overnight (Tori isn't happy and will start howling/yelling at us when she realizes he isn't there at bedtime). He hasn't been using the litter box to urinate; rather, he thinks the sofa in the spare bedroom is a better place. Thankfully we have vinyl car seat covers for the dogs, so we put them down so there is no damage to the sofa. He actually only ruined a pillow. There were sheets covering some clothes I had there and the clothes on top were still in their bags - they never fit... that is not YET!
So, I know I rambled quite a bit and this is rather garbled. Please forgive me. I've been working on this on and off all day in the midst of a bunch of other things. Any repetition is unintentional, as is any disjointedness.
I hopped on the scale yesterday - hubby was home and I can't bend at the waist, so I can't even get to it. I've lost.... <drum roll please>...... 2.2 pounds. Honestly I'm not upset about this. I'm still swollen inside and my body is holding on to the liquids I'm consuming. If it doesn't pick up in a month, that'll be a different story!
I think that's enough storytelling and drama for today. Hopefully I'll soon be snoring away....
Surgery day was a long one! After an initial call to arrive at the hospital at 11:15, they called later and asked if 8:45 would work. Heck yeah! The earlier the better. It meant leaving the house super early because of traffic headed downtown, but that's not at all a complaint! I got changed into the hospital gown (the paper pre-op one -- it does have cute little paw prints on it, though), my Pastor and a church friend who had come to the last "attempt" arrived and we sat. And sat. And sat. I think they finally took me back to the pre-op area around 1 pm. Certainly none of us expected that. I was there for a bit as the struggled to find a vein. Again, they found one good enough to put me under and poked, prodded, stuck and tortured my poor body before even beginning the surgery. One interesting note: I had anesthesiologists on either side of me looking for veins.
One of them finally went and got a vein finder (image courtesy of http://www.qtechnologiesgroup.co.uk/local-community-fundraise-for-new-vein-finder-accuvein/) although I have no idea of the brand. I was too busy watching this thing and sort of fascinated by it. I've always had difficult veins. Pretty cool, right?Perhaps I should pick one of these up (for upteen dollars) and carry it with me! Yes, so while the vein finder was keeping my attention to my right, the woman on the left found a vein good enough to get me under. I'll tell you, when I woke up I found all sorts of bandages from failed attempts. Hey, at least I was asleep, right?
Remembering that I am.... well.... me, things didn't go 100% as planned and the surgeon found adhesions from my gall bladder removal which he had to address. Once that was out of the way, he proceeded forward.
Something else I wasn't expecting was the level of pain and the amount of nausea. Sure I knew there would be a ton, especially the first day, but when, by day 3, I was still having a hard time getting down the mandatory 4 oz of water hourly, I was taken aback. Heck, once I had 5 oz and was sure I was going to lose it. Yep, that's how small my stomach is - well, at least when it's all swollen and irritated from surgery. While the surgery went (mostly) according to plan, I was given the option to stay at the hospital until Friday, while most leave on Thursday. I was up and lapping the unit and was keeping up with my fluids so was ok'd to leave on Thursday. I decided that I'll heal better with more sleep - because honestly, does anyone actually sleep in the hospital? They gave me a special pillow to push against my belly when I cough or laugh or do anything else that puts strain on my core muscles and it has helped a lot. So I know I'm super out-of-shape, but I had NO idea how often I use my core muscles. Just getting in and out of a chair or (forgive me) on and off the toilet was downright excruciating the 2nd day (after they removed the catheter).
Sleep. It's not as easy as one would think. I'm not allowed to twist, nor am I to bend from the waist or lift more than 15 lbs. It's absolutely better than being jabbed and poked all night long. However, even sleeping in my usual position has me twisting a bit, which I never realized. I have taken pillows and propped my middle section up a bit so I'm more aligned. Bert, unfortunately, likes to lay there; it's his nighttime spot. I've had to "encourage" him to move more than once since Thursday.
I'm keeping a book with everything that comes in (and goes out) of my body, as well as pain levels and I am supposed to take my temperature twice daily. That all goes in my book. I'm also keeping a general mood record in there for my personal record-keeping. With my follow-up on Thursday, I don't want my horrible memory to kick in and wind up saying "I don't know" to a bunch of really important questions.
I'm still doing the liquid diet and am to get 4-6 oz hourly of liquid. I started off with ginger tea when I first got home (iced it like crazy) and am now doing Crystal Light, and even doing some broth and consumee. Some nights what Keith makes for himself smells delicious, but always simultaneously makes me nauseas. That Thursday (although it may have been Wednesday -- it's so easy to lose time in the hospital) the nurse told me she was all-but prohibited from giving me anti-nausea meds. This will be my "new normal" for a bit and I have to get used to it. So, I've toughened up and done what I can. Thankfully, all has stayed down.
I think I've mentioned before that I fear my depression meds will decrease my metabolism, hence slow my weight loss. The surgery will absolutely affect my meds and how they are absorbed. I don't know if that means I will have to decrease (hopefully) or increase dosages. I also had normal blood pressure in the hospital and since I was being monitored 24/7 and not getting any BP meds, the doc sent me home not taking it. My PCP was ok with that. My sugars were also normal given that I was on a constant "sugar saline" drip.
I have essentially stopped pain meds, although did take a dose of liquid (i.e., kids) Tylenol for a headache. There's no need to take narcotics for that. I'll speak with the LRNP at my post-op appointment this week about what vitamins and supplements I should take. I actually like the calcium - it's a nice sweet treat twice a day.
Poly was in daycare today (and all week). Since I'm not allowed to bend over at the waist, I can't put her leash on and since she won't come when she's called (and will bark like a maniac), she needs to be leashed. Casey has been bummed today, but he's good for me. I just wish I could sit in the sofa with him so I could snuggle. I think a good snuggle would do me good.
This evening, hubby had to rush home from work to pick up Poly from work so he could help me get Bert in the carrier so we could take him to the vet. Just to add to the stress going on right now, Bert has to stay at the vet overnight (Tori isn't happy and will start howling/yelling at us when she realizes he isn't there at bedtime). He hasn't been using the litter box to urinate; rather, he thinks the sofa in the spare bedroom is a better place. Thankfully we have vinyl car seat covers for the dogs, so we put them down so there is no damage to the sofa. He actually only ruined a pillow. There were sheets covering some clothes I had there and the clothes on top were still in their bags - they never fit... that is not YET!
So, I know I rambled quite a bit and this is rather garbled. Please forgive me. I've been working on this on and off all day in the midst of a bunch of other things. Any repetition is unintentional, as is any disjointedness.
I hopped on the scale yesterday - hubby was home and I can't bend at the waist, so I can't even get to it. I've lost.... <drum roll please>...... 2.2 pounds. Honestly I'm not upset about this. I'm still swollen inside and my body is holding on to the liquids I'm consuming. If it doesn't pick up in a month, that'll be a different story!
I think that's enough storytelling and drama for today. Hopefully I'll soon be snoring away....
Friday, January 1, 2016
Title-less
It's January 1st and here I sit at my computer. I have no "resolutions." I don't care. Maybe because it's the fact that I'm stuck in an incredibly deep depression and my marriage is a mess. Maybe it's because I'm super cynical find resolutions to be ridiculous. I mean whatever we say today is usually broken by the end of the week or the month. Very few of us actually do those things we resolve to do. Whatever it is, I don't make them.
Ok, I got that out of the way. I want to share that I've seen a bariatric surgeon. He believes I'm a good candidate for a gastric sleeve. Here is some information about the sleeve, but the site also includes oodles of information about bariatric surgery, including an hour-long webinar which offers a lot of information. It's basically a doctor talking while you stare at Power Point slides. It's not the most interesting of things, but it gets the job done, plus I had to watch it before my appointment. It's not anything that's inserted, nor do they re-route any part of your digestive system. They simply staple off part of your stomach. This both makes your stomach smaller, but releases your body from experiencing the hormone that makes us feel hungry.
The doctor was wonderful. He spent nearly an hour with me! I recorded it so that I can refer back to it. The city where the doctor will perform the surgery is in the city. I saw him at a local office (30 mins, which is local for this area) and during the course of the appointment, told him that I don't drive in the city and he is totally willing to work with me. There are a number of tests and evaluations necessary for the surgery to be performed. One is a sleep study - already had one done and I use the C-Pap; one is a psych eval - since I've seen my psychologist for nearly 16 years, he will take a statement from him (who is the one who brought it up in the first place). They also need an endoscopy. I had one several months ago, but despite me telling them that I vomit with Propofol (they said it is the med of choice for those who do experience nausea and/or vomiting after a procedure), they gave it to me and the doctor couldn't finish the procedure because - guess what (?) - I vomited in the middle of it. The bariatric doc wants to be in the room so he can watch the screen and know what to expect if there are anything which would interfere with the surgery, since my upper GI tract is involved. Additionally I need a cardiac eval and he is comfortable with me seeing one locally. I saw one many years ago and know that he's in the same practice as my husbands doc, but may wind up seeing whoever has an appointment available. There is also a consult with a nurse practitioner and a nutritionist/dietitian, but he said those can be done over the phone. I love this guy! It doesn't hurt that he is the husband of one of the docs in the practice where my Mom (an RN) works. It makes trusting him easier.
When we talked about the psych eval and my doc, he said that I understand the procedure and have done my research (I have a very full binder with tons of info, using page protectors, of course!). He also said that I was asking all the right questions, so he feels comfortable with my psychologist covering that end of things. Oh, and I have my entire medical history and a bunch of other things typed up since I'll never remember it all - it's too long and complicated, plus I'm on so many meds there's no way I'd know them all, especially if they want dosage and times! He can see that I am "together" mentally, especially after seeing my OCD paperwork.
I asked how long it usually takes from the initial appointment. I expected him to say 6+ months, especially after all of the testing. Granted some of my testing is already "taken care of" but his answer was 6-8 WEEKS! Ahhhhhhh! That's soon. While I'm excited, I'm also terrified. This is an enormous lifestyle change and I guess it feels like that's a fast time to prepare mentally. On the other hand, the sooner the better, right?
In other news, I became a consultant for Thirty-One. My timing is pretty terrible as I'm dealing with the surgical stuff, but hopefully I can get something out of it, even if it's just a good group of Christian women supporting each other... and hopefully there are some close to me.
Well, "life" calls, so I have to say good-bye for now. I'll try to write again sooner next time - I know I say that every time, but if I'm going to be down for a couple of weeks I expect to be online more. So, happy new year! I wish you all the best.
Ok, I got that out of the way. I want to share that I've seen a bariatric surgeon. He believes I'm a good candidate for a gastric sleeve. Here is some information about the sleeve, but the site also includes oodles of information about bariatric surgery, including an hour-long webinar which offers a lot of information. It's basically a doctor talking while you stare at Power Point slides. It's not the most interesting of things, but it gets the job done, plus I had to watch it before my appointment. It's not anything that's inserted, nor do they re-route any part of your digestive system. They simply staple off part of your stomach. This both makes your stomach smaller, but releases your body from experiencing the hormone that makes us feel hungry.
The doctor was wonderful. He spent nearly an hour with me! I recorded it so that I can refer back to it. The city where the doctor will perform the surgery is in the city. I saw him at a local office (30 mins, which is local for this area) and during the course of the appointment, told him that I don't drive in the city and he is totally willing to work with me. There are a number of tests and evaluations necessary for the surgery to be performed. One is a sleep study - already had one done and I use the C-Pap; one is a psych eval - since I've seen my psychologist for nearly 16 years, he will take a statement from him (who is the one who brought it up in the first place). They also need an endoscopy. I had one several months ago, but despite me telling them that I vomit with Propofol (they said it is the med of choice for those who do experience nausea and/or vomiting after a procedure), they gave it to me and the doctor couldn't finish the procedure because - guess what (?) - I vomited in the middle of it. The bariatric doc wants to be in the room so he can watch the screen and know what to expect if there are anything which would interfere with the surgery, since my upper GI tract is involved. Additionally I need a cardiac eval and he is comfortable with me seeing one locally. I saw one many years ago and know that he's in the same practice as my husbands doc, but may wind up seeing whoever has an appointment available. There is also a consult with a nurse practitioner and a nutritionist/dietitian, but he said those can be done over the phone. I love this guy! It doesn't hurt that he is the husband of one of the docs in the practice where my Mom (an RN) works. It makes trusting him easier.
When we talked about the psych eval and my doc, he said that I understand the procedure and have done my research (I have a very full binder with tons of info, using page protectors, of course!). He also said that I was asking all the right questions, so he feels comfortable with my psychologist covering that end of things. Oh, and I have my entire medical history and a bunch of other things typed up since I'll never remember it all - it's too long and complicated, plus I'm on so many meds there's no way I'd know them all, especially if they want dosage and times! He can see that I am "together" mentally, especially after seeing my OCD paperwork.
I asked how long it usually takes from the initial appointment. I expected him to say 6+ months, especially after all of the testing. Granted some of my testing is already "taken care of" but his answer was 6-8 WEEKS! Ahhhhhhh! That's soon. While I'm excited, I'm also terrified. This is an enormous lifestyle change and I guess it feels like that's a fast time to prepare mentally. On the other hand, the sooner the better, right?
In other news, I became a consultant for Thirty-One. My timing is pretty terrible as I'm dealing with the surgical stuff, but hopefully I can get something out of it, even if it's just a good group of Christian women supporting each other... and hopefully there are some close to me.
Well, "life" calls, so I have to say good-bye for now. I'll try to write again sooner next time - I know I say that every time, but if I'm going to be down for a couple of weeks I expect to be online more. So, happy new year! I wish you all the best.
Thursday, September 10, 2015
Dear Fat People (link), Followed by My Musings....
I'm going to just post the link to this video and a response.
I am one of those "obese" people.... I am super obese or morbidly obese. You may have seen this video already. In fact, since I've been gone for a while, I missed all of the hoopla surrounding this. I'm glad I did. I'm in a pretty vulnerable place right now and hearing all of this (I'm sure it was all over Facebook, too!) may have done me a lot of harm. I am not a fan of the language they use, but I think it gets the point across.
I'd like to know who got together and decided what BMI is and what weight/height determines your BMI. Several years ago I was trying to determine my BMI and came across these numbers (I'm sorry, I've forgotten the site so cannot reference it directly):
>18.5 = underweight
18.5-24.9 = "normal"
25-29.9 = overweight
30-34.9 = obese
35-39.9 = severely obese
40-49.9 = morbidly obese
50-59.9 = super obese
Another stat I found at that time was that the CDC says a person who is 5'5" and 180 lbs has a BMI of 30. Yes, that is heavy, but obese? I think we're putting ourselves in these boxes that force us to reach a certain number, be it weight or BMI. We're trapped by that number, as if it defines who we are. I am fat and it is the first thing people notice about me, making it the last thing sometimes. Hubby and I switch between 2 different eateries before we go to the grocery store. We often have the same servers. They often won't recognize us until they see me. I am fat. I am memorable because of it. That is truth.
Here is the NIH BMI calculator. Frankly, I find it absurd. I once found myself getting excited that I was severely obese. I had lost enough weight that my BMI made me slightly less likely to die from the effects of being a fat chick.
What are your thoughts? How do you determine when you've reached a goal you have in mind for losing weight? Personally, I want to walk up a flight of stairs without getting out of breath. I'd like to take my dogs for a long walk. I'd like to fit in a bathroom stall comfortably. I'd like to take walks with my husband. I'd like to not squish my husband in an airplane - I mean you have to admit that you or someone you know is thankful they aren't next to the fat girl on an airplane. I'd like to be comfortable in my clothes (being comfortable in my body is too far off to be realistic; I've spent 43+ years hating myself and my body so that won't get fixed by losing weight). I'd like to go into a medical appointment and be told that I have to lose weight - some docs have gone so far as to say that I need to lose 150 lbs, as if that will solve all of my problems. I'd like to shop in a store and not be limited to clothes in a catalog, hoping they fit. I actually hit the last one about this time last year, but both my husband and myself went on some binges. My emotional eating came out in full a lot and I gained back all the weight and more. Now I have to lay on my bed and suck my stomach in after putting on jeans or shorts and sitting in them for a bit to stretch them out so they will hopefully button and zip. Even then, it's quite a chore to get them on again.
So, those are my musings immediately after hearing of this video and watching it, as well as the response. I do want to add that I accept the responsibility for each and every bite of food I put in my mouth. It is my doing that I can't walk well. I also want to say that my age (43), my medications, and both of those add in to a horrible metabolism, making it even more difficult to lose weight.
I'd really love to hear others' thoughts.
I am one of those "obese" people.... I am super obese or morbidly obese. You may have seen this video already. In fact, since I've been gone for a while, I missed all of the hoopla surrounding this. I'm glad I did. I'm in a pretty vulnerable place right now and hearing all of this (I'm sure it was all over Facebook, too!) may have done me a lot of harm. I am not a fan of the language they use, but I think it gets the point across.
I'd like to know who got together and decided what BMI is and what weight/height determines your BMI. Several years ago I was trying to determine my BMI and came across these numbers (I'm sorry, I've forgotten the site so cannot reference it directly):
>18.5 = underweight
18.5-24.9 = "normal"
25-29.9 = overweight
30-34.9 = obese
35-39.9 = severely obese
40-49.9 = morbidly obese
50-59.9 = super obese
Another stat I found at that time was that the CDC says a person who is 5'5" and 180 lbs has a BMI of 30. Yes, that is heavy, but obese? I think we're putting ourselves in these boxes that force us to reach a certain number, be it weight or BMI. We're trapped by that number, as if it defines who we are. I am fat and it is the first thing people notice about me, making it the last thing sometimes. Hubby and I switch between 2 different eateries before we go to the grocery store. We often have the same servers. They often won't recognize us until they see me. I am fat. I am memorable because of it. That is truth.
Here is the NIH BMI calculator. Frankly, I find it absurd. I once found myself getting excited that I was severely obese. I had lost enough weight that my BMI made me slightly less likely to die from the effects of being a fat chick.
What are your thoughts? How do you determine when you've reached a goal you have in mind for losing weight? Personally, I want to walk up a flight of stairs without getting out of breath. I'd like to take my dogs for a long walk. I'd like to fit in a bathroom stall comfortably. I'd like to take walks with my husband. I'd like to not squish my husband in an airplane - I mean you have to admit that you or someone you know is thankful they aren't next to the fat girl on an airplane. I'd like to be comfortable in my clothes (being comfortable in my body is too far off to be realistic; I've spent 43+ years hating myself and my body so that won't get fixed by losing weight). I'd like to go into a medical appointment and be told that I have to lose weight - some docs have gone so far as to say that I need to lose 150 lbs, as if that will solve all of my problems. I'd like to shop in a store and not be limited to clothes in a catalog, hoping they fit. I actually hit the last one about this time last year, but both my husband and myself went on some binges. My emotional eating came out in full a lot and I gained back all the weight and more. Now I have to lay on my bed and suck my stomach in after putting on jeans or shorts and sitting in them for a bit to stretch them out so they will hopefully button and zip. Even then, it's quite a chore to get them on again.
So, those are my musings immediately after hearing of this video and watching it, as well as the response. I do want to add that I accept the responsibility for each and every bite of food I put in my mouth. It is my doing that I can't walk well. I also want to say that my age (43), my medications, and both of those add in to a horrible metabolism, making it even more difficult to lose weight.
I'd really love to hear others' thoughts.
Monday, July 6, 2015
Please...I Need Some Advice
I'll keep this short and sweet. If you are a person who is overweight, who is an emotional eater, who is bulimic, who is anorexic, who eats beyond to the point of being full, who thinks about food more than just at mealtimes (see other questions below).... what are your thoughts and feelings about OA (Overeaters Anonymous)? Have you gone to any meetings or know someone who has? Was it a good experience?
I have taken the following from their website:
I am giving serious consideration to this (with "encouragement" of my therapist) He has gone to the extent of researching which meetings are good and which are flops (like the one and only one I've ever been to) and finding me a contact he knows. There is a Saturday morning meeting about 35-45 minutes away, but UGH! However, I get up with the dogs at 7:00 am anyway, so I'm not really missing out on any sleep - except for the occasional nap after I feed them.
I am totally an emotional eater - good or bad - celebration or mourning/depressed/drowning my sorrows/etc. That is something I need to address. I'm terrified and simply want to know anyone else's feelings, thoughts, etc.
Their general webiste is oa.org; the above link came from here. The site is jam-packed with information and is worth just browsing if you feel like you fit into any of these categories, or know of anyone who may - just don't push it on them. They/I have to be willing to go independent of being told to do so. Oh, I guess I should be clear here: my therapist isn't forcing me to go, but really is encouraging and helping get past the anxiety.
Any advice???
(PS: sorry for any typos or weird sentences, if I've gone to change something and didn't fully remove what I thought was a better way to say something; my wrist still hasn't totally recovered so typing is pretty painful. I'm also exhausted - 11:30 pm and the depression gives me no energy to review it. Thanks for your understanding!)
I have taken the following from their website:
Is OA For You?
Are You a Compulsive Overeater?
Now that you have found Overeaters Anonymous, you may want to make sure our program is right for you. Many of us have found it useful to answer the following questions to help determine if we have a problem with compulsive eating.
- Do I eat when I’m not hungry, or not eat when my body needs nourishment?
- Do I go on eating binges for no apparent reason, sometimes eating until I’m stuffed or even feel sick?
- Do I have feelings of guilt, shame, or embarrassment about my weight or the way I eat?
- Do I eat sensibly in front of others and then make up for it when I am alone?
- Is my eating affecting my health or the way I live my life?
- When my emotions are intense—whether positive or negative—do I find myself reaching for food?
- Do my eating behaviors make me or others unhappy?
- Have I ever used laxatives, vomiting, diuretics, excessive exercise, diet pills, shots or other medical interventions (including surgery) to try to control my weight?
- Do I fast or severely restrict my food intake to control my weight?
- Do I fantasize about how much better life would be if I were a different size or weight?
- Do I need to chew or have something in my mouth all the time: food, gum, mints, candies or beverages?
- Have I ever eaten food that is burned, frozen or spoiled; from containers in the grocery store; or out of the garbage?
- Are there certain foods I can’t stop eating after having the first bite?
- Have I lost weight with a diet or “period of control” only to be followed by bouts of uncontrolled eating and/or weight gain?
- Do I spend too much time thinking about food, arguing with myself about whether or what to eat, planning the next diet or exercise cure, or counting calories?
Have you answered “yes” to several of these questions? If so, it is possible that you have, or are well on your way to having, a compulsive eating or overeating problem.
I am giving serious consideration to this (with "encouragement" of my therapist) He has gone to the extent of researching which meetings are good and which are flops (like the one and only one I've ever been to) and finding me a contact he knows. There is a Saturday morning meeting about 35-45 minutes away, but UGH! However, I get up with the dogs at 7:00 am anyway, so I'm not really missing out on any sleep - except for the occasional nap after I feed them.
I am totally an emotional eater - good or bad - celebration or mourning/depressed/drowning my sorrows/etc. That is something I need to address. I'm terrified and simply want to know anyone else's feelings, thoughts, etc.
Their general webiste is oa.org; the above link came from here. The site is jam-packed with information and is worth just browsing if you feel like you fit into any of these categories, or know of anyone who may - just don't push it on them. They/I have to be willing to go independent of being told to do so. Oh, I guess I should be clear here: my therapist isn't forcing me to go, but really is encouraging and helping get past the anxiety.
Any advice???
(PS: sorry for any typos or weird sentences, if I've gone to change something and didn't fully remove what I thought was a better way to say something; my wrist still hasn't totally recovered so typing is pretty painful. I'm also exhausted - 11:30 pm and the depression gives me no energy to review it. Thanks for your understanding!)
Monday, June 29, 2015
Pondering
I've been pondering this blog post for awhile now. In fact I'm not entirely sure what I want to say and what not to say.
My health has gotten out of control, but I don't want to be all whiny about it. I will say that I had surgery 3 weeks ago for carpal tunnel. Surgery went well and the doc was pleased at my 2-week check-up. I'm far less bandaged than I was and in a couple of days I will start rubbing cocoa butter on my wound for two minutes daily. It sounds odd, but I did use Medi-honey on my wound-clinic-necessary wound following ankle surgery in 2013.
Weight related it's not pretty. I am such an emotional eater that I weigh the same, if not more than when I started Weight Watchers almost exactly a year ago (53 weeks, 1 day... but who's counting?). It's a frustrating battle. This food thing? It's HARD! My Mom knows that hubby and I are working to lose weight. My father has been in a rehab following a hip replacement. We went to visit him on Father's Day (I let myself be guilted into it). Once others arrived Mom pulled out a cake and sliced a piece for everyone. Now she knows and she still does this. It feels like sabotage, although I know it's not intentional. She needs to lose weight herself. I've never asked, but I am guessing that her BMI falls in the obese range also.
We've had things going on with all of our critters. I wrote about it all in my last post, so I won't repeat myself. I will say that the lump on Poly's neck hasn't grown since the doc removed some of it.
For those who didn't know, my brother, his wife, and their two kids were living in a very dangerous area of the world for the past two years. Well, all are back now. My brother had to stay to finish up some business there, but everyone else - especially the kids - could not have gotten out of there faster if they tried! We were informed that my brother will not be living with his family and is now setting up his own apartment. We're all pretty upset about it and it blind-sided us. It seems that it's been coming for a couple of years now but that's all we know. Is it really anyone's business? I don't know how to answer that. I don't know what to say (on the off chance) when my nephews ask about his parents? They are nearly 15 and 13 and unlikely to talk about it... perhaps even told not to talk about it. Who knows? I'm just really upset. I barely have a relationship with my nephews as it stands (granted they have been out of the country for the last 8+ years) and fear how this will impact that.
I'm not sure if I've mentioned before that I don't have a great relationship with my father. He abandoned us when I was 13. He married the reason for the divorce. On their wedding day, I was 13, my brother was 16, "she" was 22 and my father was 44. Needless to say, that didn't last long. Let me add in here that there were never weekend visits or one night a week arrangements. It was my Mom and that was it. Before they were officially divorced, he still had a key to the house. For my birthday during that time, he came in and dropped a tennis racket on the kitchen counter. Do you remember when I've said that I've always had a weight problem? How I was always last in gym class, be it running the 600 or being chosen for a team. I was not active outside of dance. Who on earth would think I would appreciate a tennis racket?
I don't remember much from before he left, although some memories come up every so often. I also find that there are some belongings I find as we clean up the house and I can't get rid of them, even though I have no idea if someone made them or gave them to me. I just know they are a piece of my childhood and I can't bear to part with them.
It was this odd existence for a long time. My brother left for college shortly after the "wedding" and I was left alone with my Mom who tried to pretend everything was ok - it was not. I would go to my father's every so often and, per a psychologist's recommendation, I left a basket of toiletries there so I felt that I "belonged" in that house. I did not. I rarely used those toiletries. He lived on a farm and was the groundskeeper before and after retiring from his job as a police officer. There was a daycare center on the property and I worked there subbing during my college summers. One summer, in addition to working 2 jobs, I was taking a class. It seemed like I went to dinner there every night, although I'm sure it wasn't quite that frequent. I just didn't have time to go home.
Question: I've been told my entire life that I need to lose weight. I was a dancer, so this caused added pressure. I took dance very seriously. Anyway, I now look back at pictures from my high school days and wish I could look like that again. I was an average size. I looked good. I looked balanced. But I was taken to program after program to take some weight off. Am I the only one who has always been told "you're 'heavy' and need to lose weight? Or have any of you done what I do - look back at those pictures and wish against all hope, that you could have that body back?
Ok, so I know this is a bit disjointed. I am at the very furthest wrong end of my bipolar right now, yet my mind is going full speed. I just throw things out there and hope they make some sort of sense. Thank you if you have put up with this and gotten this far.
My health has gotten out of control, but I don't want to be all whiny about it. I will say that I had surgery 3 weeks ago for carpal tunnel. Surgery went well and the doc was pleased at my 2-week check-up. I'm far less bandaged than I was and in a couple of days I will start rubbing cocoa butter on my wound for two minutes daily. It sounds odd, but I did use Medi-honey on my wound-clinic-necessary wound following ankle surgery in 2013.
Weight related it's not pretty. I am such an emotional eater that I weigh the same, if not more than when I started Weight Watchers almost exactly a year ago (53 weeks, 1 day... but who's counting?). It's a frustrating battle. This food thing? It's HARD! My Mom knows that hubby and I are working to lose weight. My father has been in a rehab following a hip replacement. We went to visit him on Father's Day (I let myself be guilted into it). Once others arrived Mom pulled out a cake and sliced a piece for everyone. Now she knows and she still does this. It feels like sabotage, although I know it's not intentional. She needs to lose weight herself. I've never asked, but I am guessing that her BMI falls in the obese range also.
We've had things going on with all of our critters. I wrote about it all in my last post, so I won't repeat myself. I will say that the lump on Poly's neck hasn't grown since the doc removed some of it.
For those who didn't know, my brother, his wife, and their two kids were living in a very dangerous area of the world for the past two years. Well, all are back now. My brother had to stay to finish up some business there, but everyone else - especially the kids - could not have gotten out of there faster if they tried! We were informed that my brother will not be living with his family and is now setting up his own apartment. We're all pretty upset about it and it blind-sided us. It seems that it's been coming for a couple of years now but that's all we know. Is it really anyone's business? I don't know how to answer that. I don't know what to say (on the off chance) when my nephews ask about his parents? They are nearly 15 and 13 and unlikely to talk about it... perhaps even told not to talk about it. Who knows? I'm just really upset. I barely have a relationship with my nephews as it stands (granted they have been out of the country for the last 8+ years) and fear how this will impact that.
I'm not sure if I've mentioned before that I don't have a great relationship with my father. He abandoned us when I was 13. He married the reason for the divorce. On their wedding day, I was 13, my brother was 16, "she" was 22 and my father was 44. Needless to say, that didn't last long. Let me add in here that there were never weekend visits or one night a week arrangements. It was my Mom and that was it. Before they were officially divorced, he still had a key to the house. For my birthday during that time, he came in and dropped a tennis racket on the kitchen counter. Do you remember when I've said that I've always had a weight problem? How I was always last in gym class, be it running the 600 or being chosen for a team. I was not active outside of dance. Who on earth would think I would appreciate a tennis racket?
I don't remember much from before he left, although some memories come up every so often. I also find that there are some belongings I find as we clean up the house and I can't get rid of them, even though I have no idea if someone made them or gave them to me. I just know they are a piece of my childhood and I can't bear to part with them.
It was this odd existence for a long time. My brother left for college shortly after the "wedding" and I was left alone with my Mom who tried to pretend everything was ok - it was not. I would go to my father's every so often and, per a psychologist's recommendation, I left a basket of toiletries there so I felt that I "belonged" in that house. I did not. I rarely used those toiletries. He lived on a farm and was the groundskeeper before and after retiring from his job as a police officer. There was a daycare center on the property and I worked there subbing during my college summers. One summer, in addition to working 2 jobs, I was taking a class. It seemed like I went to dinner there every night, although I'm sure it wasn't quite that frequent. I just didn't have time to go home.
Question: I've been told my entire life that I need to lose weight. I was a dancer, so this caused added pressure. I took dance very seriously. Anyway, I now look back at pictures from my high school days and wish I could look like that again. I was an average size. I looked good. I looked balanced. But I was taken to program after program to take some weight off. Am I the only one who has always been told "you're 'heavy' and need to lose weight? Or have any of you done what I do - look back at those pictures and wish against all hope, that you could have that body back?
Ok, so I know this is a bit disjointed. I am at the very furthest wrong end of my bipolar right now, yet my mind is going full speed. I just throw things out there and hope they make some sort of sense. Thank you if you have put up with this and gotten this far.
Monday, May 18, 2015
A Formal Introduction, 4 1/2 years too late
I'll start at the very beginning, a very good place to start. Ok, so we've established that I love musicals, especially The Sound of Music. But that's not even barely a snippet of my life.
I'm 43 years old. I'm a Disney fanatic.... seriously, a freak about Disney!
I also have a mental illness. I have suffered from depression on and off for 30 years. Currently I am on disability for what has now been diagnosed as bipolar II. It's been not quite 15 years since I last worked. I was a social worker and one who was seriously burnt out at that. I have a degree in psychology. I switched over to working in HR for the same agency for the last 6 months, hoping I could keep up my pace. I was referred to a psychologist and it was shortly after that when I took the HR job. That was when I wound up in a psych ward for the first time. To be clear, it was voluntary. I wasn't tied down to the table and fed drugs and given IVs with all sorts of funky juices in them. That, my friends, is the movie version of a psych ward/hospital.
Having been on dozens of meds and even more combos, I was running out of options. So, I have had close to 80 ECT treatments (you may know it as shock therapy/treatment). The first 7 kept me out of the hospital for 4 years after annual hospitalizations. When I started to get really sick again, my therapist suggested I have a consult with another hospital which offers ECT. The psychiatrist refused to do it, saying I had borderline personality disorder. A few years later, after more meds, combos and hospitalizations, I went back to that same hospital and had another consult with the exact same psychiatrist. He approved me for the treatment. While I was inpatient, I did 3 treatments each week. Outpatient I was able to do 1. The doc would have preferred more, but I had no ride the other days. I was receiving what is known as "bilateral" and was at the maximum "dose."
In 2013 I wound up in the hospital medically and had to cancel my scheduled treatment. It gave me pause and I decided that the negative effects outweighed any benefit I was still receiving. My last treatment was December, 2012. It's hard to separate out what symptoms are from the depression and which are due to the ECT, plus I have a bunch of medical problems, including a stroke. There is no knowing. What is medical? Psychological? ECT-based?
My memory loss is significant, but like I said, what is the cause? My therapist told me that the benefits of the ECT would be short-lived, but I kept plugging along. Then I made that decision. I had reached the point where it was time to move along in my treatment. My treatment team was excited about the decision, but as much for the fact that I made it and there was no doctor telling me to stop.
It's hard to decide when to tell someone about mental illness and ECT - both have such stigma. The way I see it, if everyone keeps quiet, the stigma will remain. It's ok for people to ask questions because that's the way the word will get out that it's nothing like One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. I welcome questions about my illness and my treatments. I would prefer people educate themselves than make ignorant decisions. After all of my treatments and a dozen hospitalizations, I've gotten somewhat vocal. I mean, when push comes to shove there aren't a lot of explanations for my not working since I appear healthy - and am incredibly good at pretending I'm fine, putting on "the mask" and whatever else you want to call it.
What else? My mental illness seems to be such a huge part of my life that I wanted to take this opportunity to get it out there in a fashion that doesn't just say it in a casual way. Other very important parts of my life... I think I've mentioned that I'll be married 20 years in December.
<--- That's my love.
We have 2 cats and 2 dogs, all rescues.
The kitties are siblings. We went to adopt one but couldn't bear the thought of leaving the other one, especially knowing how people are ignorant and won't adopt black kitties because of some silly superstition.
One all-encompassing part of our lives is that we are born-again Christians. Fear not, I won't be sending subliminal messages or preaching at you, so please don't give up on my blog for that. We have a very strong faith and have recently begun a new journey with a new church family (after our former church dissolved). We attempt to keep our lives Christ-centered in what we do, but are awful sinners and fail at every turn. We try and that's all He asks of us.
Ok, so, my hubby is a computer systems engineer (with a chemistry degree - smarty pants), although I prefer to call him a computer geek. It covers all bases. He is such a blessing here at home. Since I am too sick to work, he does so much around here. If we had laundry on the same floor as where we dirty the darn stuff, I could pick up that chore (most of the time). We'd love to get a ranch style home, but now just isn't the time.
I was a social worker, which covers a load of jobs. For me, with my degree in psychology I first worked in a group home with 12 adults suffering from mental illness - sort of ironic, right? I still have incredibly fond memories of many of those incredible men and women. I credit one woman with helping me lose 40 lbs before my wedding. She was on my caseload and one of her goals was to walk every day. My daily time with her was spent joining her on those walks. Another man was in a military academy when he got sick and had to end his hopes of being in the service. The list could go on. They were so special to me. Heck, they even threw me a surprise bridal shower. Extraordinary! My next job was working with adults with developmental disabilities (I think there is now a new name, but that's what it was called when I worked) who were living with host families. I put a lot of miles on my car and loved my clients and most of the families. It all took a lot out of me. The final 6 months of my employment with them was working as an HR coordinator. It took off the pressures of one position, but added having to learn an entirely new and unfamiliar field. You know what happened after that.
I spent ages 2-16 as a dancer. First was ballet and at age 10 (?) I added in jazz. My hope was to go to Julliard (ok, let's make that a dream... a far off dream), but those hopes were dashed when, after many, many injuries, I broke my knee and needed surgery. I was told any further dancing would be out of the question. I also played violin, starting in 3rd grade and through the first year of college. I also played clarinet, starting (late) just before 7th grade and all the way through college. In high school there was marching band and concert band and at the time, if you were in one, you were in the other. It was very time-consuming. The Fall held football games weekly and practice two weeks a night, plus competitions for all of October and some other weeks. I was able to participate in the Miss America parade one year and my senior year we marched in the 3:00 parade in Disney World!!!! It was like a dream come true. We went to competitions annually, including Virginia Beach, Myrtle Beach, and Toronto. High school orchestra was small, but I do remember us going to a competition in Toronto (because it was the week after the band one!). In college, it was simply concert band and we did one performance at the end of each semester. College orchestra consisted of basically a quartet or sometimes a quintet, depending on who showed up. It wasn't worth it for me, so I left it go.
As you can see, music is an enormous part of my life. It is also for the mister. He is a drummer. We lived in neighboring towns and our football teams competed, as did we compete as bands each weekend. We were on the same fields a lot and never even knew it! We actually met at a Hallmark shop. I started working there when I was 18. He was an established employee. We worked there until we got married. After about 6 months of that we couldn't take so much togetherness and decided we'd stop working at the shop. I'm still partial to Hallmark cards, though ;)
I'm 43 years old. I'm a Disney fanatic.... seriously, a freak about Disney!
I also have a mental illness. I have suffered from depression on and off for 30 years. Currently I am on disability for what has now been diagnosed as bipolar II. It's been not quite 15 years since I last worked. I was a social worker and one who was seriously burnt out at that. I have a degree in psychology. I switched over to working in HR for the same agency for the last 6 months, hoping I could keep up my pace. I was referred to a psychologist and it was shortly after that when I took the HR job. That was when I wound up in a psych ward for the first time. To be clear, it was voluntary. I wasn't tied down to the table and fed drugs and given IVs with all sorts of funky juices in them. That, my friends, is the movie version of a psych ward/hospital.
Having been on dozens of meds and even more combos, I was running out of options. So, I have had close to 80 ECT treatments (you may know it as shock therapy/treatment). The first 7 kept me out of the hospital for 4 years after annual hospitalizations. When I started to get really sick again, my therapist suggested I have a consult with another hospital which offers ECT. The psychiatrist refused to do it, saying I had borderline personality disorder. A few years later, after more meds, combos and hospitalizations, I went back to that same hospital and had another consult with the exact same psychiatrist. He approved me for the treatment. While I was inpatient, I did 3 treatments each week. Outpatient I was able to do 1. The doc would have preferred more, but I had no ride the other days. I was receiving what is known as "bilateral" and was at the maximum "dose."
In 2013 I wound up in the hospital medically and had to cancel my scheduled treatment. It gave me pause and I decided that the negative effects outweighed any benefit I was still receiving. My last treatment was December, 2012. It's hard to separate out what symptoms are from the depression and which are due to the ECT, plus I have a bunch of medical problems, including a stroke. There is no knowing. What is medical? Psychological? ECT-based?
My memory loss is significant, but like I said, what is the cause? My therapist told me that the benefits of the ECT would be short-lived, but I kept plugging along. Then I made that decision. I had reached the point where it was time to move along in my treatment. My treatment team was excited about the decision, but as much for the fact that I made it and there was no doctor telling me to stop.
It's hard to decide when to tell someone about mental illness and ECT - both have such stigma. The way I see it, if everyone keeps quiet, the stigma will remain. It's ok for people to ask questions because that's the way the word will get out that it's nothing like One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. I welcome questions about my illness and my treatments. I would prefer people educate themselves than make ignorant decisions. After all of my treatments and a dozen hospitalizations, I've gotten somewhat vocal. I mean, when push comes to shove there aren't a lot of explanations for my not working since I appear healthy - and am incredibly good at pretending I'm fine, putting on "the mask" and whatever else you want to call it.
<--- That's my love.
We have 2 cats and 2 dogs, all rescues.
The kitties are siblings. We went to adopt one but couldn't bear the thought of leaving the other one, especially knowing how people are ignorant and won't adopt black kitties because of some silly superstition.
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The dogs we're told are a shepherd mix (left) and a vizsla mix (right). For the record, we didn't know either, but a vizsla is a Hungarian hunting dog. Note: hunting dog = we have our hands full!
One all-encompassing part of our lives is that we are born-again Christians. Fear not, I won't be sending subliminal messages or preaching at you, so please don't give up on my blog for that. We have a very strong faith and have recently begun a new journey with a new church family (after our former church dissolved). We attempt to keep our lives Christ-centered in what we do, but are awful sinners and fail at every turn. We try and that's all He asks of us.
Ok, so, my hubby is a computer systems engineer (with a chemistry degree - smarty pants), although I prefer to call him a computer geek. It covers all bases. He is such a blessing here at home. Since I am too sick to work, he does so much around here. If we had laundry on the same floor as where we dirty the darn stuff, I could pick up that chore (most of the time). We'd love to get a ranch style home, but now just isn't the time.
I was a social worker, which covers a load of jobs. For me, with my degree in psychology I first worked in a group home with 12 adults suffering from mental illness - sort of ironic, right? I still have incredibly fond memories of many of those incredible men and women. I credit one woman with helping me lose 40 lbs before my wedding. She was on my caseload and one of her goals was to walk every day. My daily time with her was spent joining her on those walks. Another man was in a military academy when he got sick and had to end his hopes of being in the service. The list could go on. They were so special to me. Heck, they even threw me a surprise bridal shower. Extraordinary! My next job was working with adults with developmental disabilities (I think there is now a new name, but that's what it was called when I worked) who were living with host families. I put a lot of miles on my car and loved my clients and most of the families. It all took a lot out of me. The final 6 months of my employment with them was working as an HR coordinator. It took off the pressures of one position, but added having to learn an entirely new and unfamiliar field. You know what happened after that.
I spent ages 2-16 as a dancer. First was ballet and at age 10 (?) I added in jazz. My hope was to go to Julliard (ok, let's make that a dream... a far off dream), but those hopes were dashed when, after many, many injuries, I broke my knee and needed surgery. I was told any further dancing would be out of the question. I also played violin, starting in 3rd grade and through the first year of college. I also played clarinet, starting (late) just before 7th grade and all the way through college. In high school there was marching band and concert band and at the time, if you were in one, you were in the other. It was very time-consuming. The Fall held football games weekly and practice two weeks a night, plus competitions for all of October and some other weeks. I was able to participate in the Miss America parade one year and my senior year we marched in the 3:00 parade in Disney World!!!! It was like a dream come true. We went to competitions annually, including Virginia Beach, Myrtle Beach, and Toronto. High school orchestra was small, but I do remember us going to a competition in Toronto (because it was the week after the band one!). In college, it was simply concert band and we did one performance at the end of each semester. College orchestra consisted of basically a quartet or sometimes a quintet, depending on who showed up. It wasn't worth it for me, so I left it go.
As you can see, music is an enormous part of my life. It is also for the mister. He is a drummer. We lived in neighboring towns and our football teams competed, as did we compete as bands each weekend. We were on the same fields a lot and never even knew it! We actually met at a Hallmark shop. I started working there when I was 18. He was an established employee. We worked there until we got married. After about 6 months of that we couldn't take so much togetherness and decided we'd stop working at the shop. I'm still partial to Hallmark cards, though ;)
I love to write, as you can probably tell and am considering putting some of my journal writings into a book.
Hub and I love to travel. It's not only Disney, although Disney World and Disney Cruise Line are our favorites, we enjoy doing most travelling. Keith grew up going to Ocean City, NJ every year and we kept that up for a bit. We'll now go down for a day, maybe his birthday. This past summer we were financially forced to re-schedule our Disney cruise and went to Ocean City, MD and loved it! We had been there once before but this experience was different - not better or worse, just different. Now, it was Cycle Week - and no, it wasn't bicycles. It was LOUD down there and we'd certainly chose another week to go. We went down to the barrier islands several times and were able to see a bunch of wild ponies. That was pretty incredible. We're headed on another cruise to Bermuda soon and are headed to Alaska on Disney Cruise Line later this year. Like I said, we LOVE to travel!
I'm pretty sure this is long enough without me blabbering on and on about stuff - I'm sure I'll keep doing that as time goes by. For now, if you made it through this, thank you!
Hub and I love to travel. It's not only Disney, although Disney World and Disney Cruise Line are our favorites, we enjoy doing most travelling. Keith grew up going to Ocean City, NJ every year and we kept that up for a bit. We'll now go down for a day, maybe his birthday. This past summer we were financially forced to re-schedule our Disney cruise and went to Ocean City, MD and loved it! We had been there once before but this experience was different - not better or worse, just different. Now, it was Cycle Week - and no, it wasn't bicycles. It was LOUD down there and we'd certainly chose another week to go. We went down to the barrier islands several times and were able to see a bunch of wild ponies. That was pretty incredible. We're headed on another cruise to Bermuda soon and are headed to Alaska on Disney Cruise Line later this year. Like I said, we LOVE to travel!
I'm pretty sure this is long enough without me blabbering on and on about stuff - I'm sure I'll keep doing that as time goes by. For now, if you made it through this, thank you!
Question
For the few but faithful who read this blog:
It's a fine line. As far as the mental illness is concerned, I'm not ashamed about it. On the other hand, I don't want to go around with a sign around my neck telling the world. If someone had diabetes or heart issues or any other illnesses for that matter, they wouldn't have the "scarlet letter" shown for all to see.
I am a realistic person. My life isn't of much interest to many and I've been pretty personal on this blog as opposed to the one about my critters. I've been considering making this one public and posting my entries to Facebook.
Here's where you come in. If this was your life, would you want this much information "out there?" I know people can access it if they really want to... blah, blah, blah. But I'm being serious here. Have I put parts of myself out there that maybe shouldn't be? Is this too personal? Have I shared too much? If my Mother reads it, would she be embarrassed that her friends who are on FB also see it?
It's a fine line. As far as the mental illness is concerned, I'm not ashamed about it. On the other hand, I don't want to go around with a sign around my neck telling the world. If someone had diabetes or heart issues or any other illnesses for that matter, they wouldn't have the "scarlet letter" shown for all to see.
I really, truly want your opinions.
Thanks!
Monday, April 13, 2015
Rare
Just to keep you in the loop (if anyone is actually reading this...) when I saw my psychiatrist this morning he is taking me off of one of my meds because of a few side effects. He, who is in his 50s and very up-to-date with studies and the like, looked them up on the computer having not heard of them.
Guess what? They are RARE occurrences on that particular med. You read it right -- RARE! If you didn't catch that the first few times.... my side effects are/were RARE!
Yep, that sounds about right.... Welcome to my world.
Guess what? They are RARE occurrences on that particular med. You read it right -- RARE! If you didn't catch that the first few times.... my side effects are/were RARE!
Yep, that sounds about right.... Welcome to my world.
Friday, March 13, 2015
There is no title.....
I'm at a loss. Really, a total loss - and not the weight kind. My emotional eating has taken me back up to the weight I was when I started Weight Watchers (and maybe a little more, but I haven't gotten on the scale in a couple of weeks).
Here's the thing: I REFUSE to be a victim. Yes, my metabolism has decided to not work to its full potential as I age. Yes, I am not able to exercise outside of a pool environment because of money (I mean, how expensive is the Y these days -- it's outrageous!). Yes, I am on enough meds to kill a horse, all of which have "weight gain" as a side effect. But, when push comes to shove, I am responsible for what I put in my mouth. I am the one not getting on the exercise bike in our spare bedroom (one of the few things I can tolerate without unimaginable pain). It's me. I was losing weight. I lost 26 pounds without knowing how, then I lost over 30 pounds on Weight Watchers. I can do it, which means I am NOT a victim. It just may take me longer than most.
Here's the thing: I REFUSE to be a victim. Yes, my metabolism has decided to not work to its full potential as I age. Yes, I am not able to exercise outside of a pool environment because of money (I mean, how expensive is the Y these days -- it's outrageous!). Yes, I am on enough meds to kill a horse, all of which have "weight gain" as a side effect. But, when push comes to shove, I am responsible for what I put in my mouth. I am the one not getting on the exercise bike in our spare bedroom (one of the few things I can tolerate without unimaginable pain). It's me. I was losing weight. I lost 26 pounds without knowing how, then I lost over 30 pounds on Weight Watchers. I can do it, which means I am NOT a victim. It just may take me longer than most.
Friday, February 27, 2015
Wintertime has Been Evil
Ok, so maybe "evil" isn't the right word, but winter sure has gotten to me. Granted I'd given up walking the dogs back in Autumn (I think) but I also don't have any motivation to do it in this mess, either. I don't have any energy to ride my exercise bike. But... I am in PT for a number of things (the physical therapist saw the script and said "what happened?" I saw him back in 2013 for my pre-op attempt at avoidance. There are so many things on there he just didn't know where to start.
Eating. UGH! I haven't stuck to Weight Watchers at all. I have added a few meals here and there - the same meals I was eating on the plan. I just didn't track all the junk I've been putting in my body. Last time I saw my PCP I refused the scale. She thinks I'm still down 30 pounds. I didn't realize until I left and saw the paper she'd written on, but I didn't make any attempt to fix it.
I'm embarrassed. People stare and I want to say "I'm a middle-aged woman, so have the metabolism of a turtle, and am on enough meds to kill a horse.... oh, and by the way, nearly all of them have weight gain as a side effect; did I mention that I'm bipolar and severe depression makes me almost have negative motivation." Now, you, "skinny person" stop staring and understand that things are not as cut and dry as you think they are. So, go have a burger!
Tonight is an excellent example of our food intake of late: hubby is picking up hoagies and chips and we will have some drinks - granted it's usually one form or another of Coke Zero and when I'm not drinking water, it's either one of the Coke Zeros or diet, decaf iced tea. One of my new meds has me on Lithium which causes me to have a metal taste in my mouth all the time, so drinking waster isn't as easy as it used to be. I go as long into the day as I can with water, but at some point, I have to switch to something with taste. Plus, wow, some of those un-coated meds are nasty!
I need fruit! I think fruit will help get me back on track - and not the canned stuff, because while I'm eating Libby's no sugar added mandarin oranges in the can, I could really go for an apple that doesn't cost $1600 a pound! Ok, we do have bananas, but I'm a brat and they have to be green or have at least some green on them. I'm not a fan of banana mush or banana baby food.
That is that. Wintertime isn't my friend this year.
Eating. UGH! I haven't stuck to Weight Watchers at all. I have added a few meals here and there - the same meals I was eating on the plan. I just didn't track all the junk I've been putting in my body. Last time I saw my PCP I refused the scale. She thinks I'm still down 30 pounds. I didn't realize until I left and saw the paper she'd written on, but I didn't make any attempt to fix it.
I'm embarrassed. People stare and I want to say "I'm a middle-aged woman, so have the metabolism of a turtle, and am on enough meds to kill a horse.... oh, and by the way, nearly all of them have weight gain as a side effect; did I mention that I'm bipolar and severe depression makes me almost have negative motivation." Now, you, "skinny person" stop staring and understand that things are not as cut and dry as you think they are. So, go have a burger!
Tonight is an excellent example of our food intake of late: hubby is picking up hoagies and chips and we will have some drinks - granted it's usually one form or another of Coke Zero and when I'm not drinking water, it's either one of the Coke Zeros or diet, decaf iced tea. One of my new meds has me on Lithium which causes me to have a metal taste in my mouth all the time, so drinking waster isn't as easy as it used to be. I go as long into the day as I can with water, but at some point, I have to switch to something with taste. Plus, wow, some of those un-coated meds are nasty!
I need fruit! I think fruit will help get me back on track - and not the canned stuff, because while I'm eating Libby's no sugar added mandarin oranges in the can, I could really go for an apple that doesn't cost $1600 a pound! Ok, we do have bananas, but I'm a brat and they have to be green or have at least some green on them. I'm not a fan of banana mush or banana baby food.
That is that. Wintertime isn't my friend this year.
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Fat AND bipolar?
Yes. It's true.
I am fat. I am bipolar. I won't go into the rest of my flaws; they could take up and entire and very long entry and there's no need to bore you with all of my junk. Not that having a mental illness is a flaw any more than having cancer is a flaw. I didn't ask for it and I didn't do anything to bring it on. The fat? That's another story. That I can control (to an extent). I control what I put in my mouth and I control how active I am each day.
As I sit here, I have eaten nearly an entire bag of m&ms. It's not pretty and I expect severe nausea to kick in any minute now.
I know I've said before, I'm an emotional eater. Here is where the bipolar fits in with the fat. Life has not been going terribly well lately. I feel no need to go into details, and some of them are far too personal to write on a public forum. But, I am an emotional mess. I've stopped several times at the supermarket and/or Target picking up Ben & Jerry's and a variety of candy and "regular" ice cream - have you tried Turkey Hill's Party Cake flavor? Wow, delicious! The emotions that have me eating are not at the mania/hypomania end of the spectrum. They are where I spent most of my time - at the depression end. Severe depression. With death thoughts. So I eat, and then I feel more angry and more depressed. It turns into the perfect - awful - cycle.
The stress! We had to cancel a dream vacation because we weren't able to save the necessary money each month - a new fridge; dental work; a new (to me) car; 2 weeks ago was a new sliding glass door; last weekend was 3 new toilets - which now require new seat covers and floor mats; Casey (the bigger dog) got sick; the list goes on and on.
I wound up very sick in Aug/Sept with a stomach virus and was, therefore, unable to keep my meds down. Knowing it was a holiday weekend, I paged my psychiatrist that Friday to avoid needing to contact him over the weekend. I called before noon on Friday. After not hearing back 2 hours later, I called and got an answer, being told that he was with a new patient and could be a while but she would make sure he got the message. She called me back and said he never received the page but would call me back later and that he may want my chart in front of him. To give you the full picture here, the Wednesday AND Thursday prior to this call I was in the ER - most pertinent piece of info here being that I got home at 2:30 am Friday morning. Being somewhat incoherent I made sure there was someone with me so that I could remember what the doc said. By 10 pm, no call and hubby and I were exhausted, so we went to bed. 11 pm - I repeat 11 pm (!) the phone rang and it was him. Totally inappropriate and unacceptable! He said maybe he'd call back the following day. Not hearing from him by 11 am-ish, I paged him and took another several hours until he called back. He gave me a bit of an attitude and a titration schedule for my meds. Of course I had Mr B stay with me until he finally had to go to the grocery store so I was home alone, with a list that made only minimal sense to me. I wasn't lucid and I wasn't stable. One night at midnight I had a very embarrassing symptom. I wound up paging my GYN (I verified that she was the one on-call and that she was awake already for a delivery; she is also a family friend). She called the next day after giving me several suggestions to help with the symptoms overnight. She had done some research and found a name for my symptoms and the probable reason was one of my psych meds. Of course I called my psychiatrist back and he was really quite arrogant, saying that he'd never heard of it. Basically since he didn't know of it, it mustn't be the cause, if it even exists. Now, the psychiatrist is in his 50's, the gynecologist is in her 30's.
So, I got a new psychiatrist. I'd had my feelers out for over a year with no success. I'd exhausted anyone my psychologist knew so was left on my own - and that's ok. After the above situation I'd had it. The final straw. So, I have a new one. I saw him for my second monthly appointment last week. There was some horrible traffic shown on the news so I left 90 minutes to get there (a drive that could take 40 minutes traffic-free, rush-hour-free). He seems to run on time, so I went right back for my 15 minute appt and then headed back home. Basically I spent 2-1/2 hours on the road for a 15 minute appt. The "icky" doctor, as we call him here, always ran so, so late that the drive (he was only 10 minutes closer than the new guy) back and forth didn't feel so excessive. Don't get me wrong - this is not a complaint. The new doc is totally worth the drive. Hey, I get to listen to some great music!
And some of the stress is as follows: a doctor's appt with the podiatrist who did my ankle surgery last December who ordered an MRI; a doctor's appt with an ENT who ordered an MRI of my brain (for which I have to have a series of bloodwork done) and an ultrasound of my thyroid; a dental appointment; my usual therapy each week (an hour away) and a number of times getting lost to and from these appts and misinterpreting the date for one appointment (I got lost on the way) and being there a week early. The list goes on with a bunch of financial stuff and other miscellaneous.
So this may have come across as a gripe-fest but it's the circle my life has been on for the past several weeks.
Stress --> depression --> eating --> depression worsening --> comfort eating, etc, etc, etc.
I have to go, there is a pint of Ben & Jerry's calling my name.
Oh yeah, as a PS: I had lost 32 lbs on Weight Watchers prior to this and have found about 10 of those pounds back. Crud!
I am fat. I am bipolar. I won't go into the rest of my flaws; they could take up and entire and very long entry and there's no need to bore you with all of my junk. Not that having a mental illness is a flaw any more than having cancer is a flaw. I didn't ask for it and I didn't do anything to bring it on. The fat? That's another story. That I can control (to an extent). I control what I put in my mouth and I control how active I am each day.
As I sit here, I have eaten nearly an entire bag of m&ms. It's not pretty and I expect severe nausea to kick in any minute now.
I know I've said before, I'm an emotional eater. Here is where the bipolar fits in with the fat. Life has not been going terribly well lately. I feel no need to go into details, and some of them are far too personal to write on a public forum. But, I am an emotional mess. I've stopped several times at the supermarket and/or Target picking up Ben & Jerry's and a variety of candy and "regular" ice cream - have you tried Turkey Hill's Party Cake flavor? Wow, delicious! The emotions that have me eating are not at the mania/hypomania end of the spectrum. They are where I spent most of my time - at the depression end. Severe depression. With death thoughts. So I eat, and then I feel more angry and more depressed. It turns into the perfect - awful - cycle.
The stress! We had to cancel a dream vacation because we weren't able to save the necessary money each month - a new fridge; dental work; a new (to me) car; 2 weeks ago was a new sliding glass door; last weekend was 3 new toilets - which now require new seat covers and floor mats; Casey (the bigger dog) got sick; the list goes on and on.
I wound up very sick in Aug/Sept with a stomach virus and was, therefore, unable to keep my meds down. Knowing it was a holiday weekend, I paged my psychiatrist that Friday to avoid needing to contact him over the weekend. I called before noon on Friday. After not hearing back 2 hours later, I called and got an answer, being told that he was with a new patient and could be a while but she would make sure he got the message. She called me back and said he never received the page but would call me back later and that he may want my chart in front of him. To give you the full picture here, the Wednesday AND Thursday prior to this call I was in the ER - most pertinent piece of info here being that I got home at 2:30 am Friday morning. Being somewhat incoherent I made sure there was someone with me so that I could remember what the doc said. By 10 pm, no call and hubby and I were exhausted, so we went to bed. 11 pm - I repeat 11 pm (!) the phone rang and it was him. Totally inappropriate and unacceptable! He said maybe he'd call back the following day. Not hearing from him by 11 am-ish, I paged him and took another several hours until he called back. He gave me a bit of an attitude and a titration schedule for my meds. Of course I had Mr B stay with me until he finally had to go to the grocery store so I was home alone, with a list that made only minimal sense to me. I wasn't lucid and I wasn't stable. One night at midnight I had a very embarrassing symptom. I wound up paging my GYN (I verified that she was the one on-call and that she was awake already for a delivery; she is also a family friend). She called the next day after giving me several suggestions to help with the symptoms overnight. She had done some research and found a name for my symptoms and the probable reason was one of my psych meds. Of course I called my psychiatrist back and he was really quite arrogant, saying that he'd never heard of it. Basically since he didn't know of it, it mustn't be the cause, if it even exists. Now, the psychiatrist is in his 50's, the gynecologist is in her 30's.
So, I got a new psychiatrist. I'd had my feelers out for over a year with no success. I'd exhausted anyone my psychologist knew so was left on my own - and that's ok. After the above situation I'd had it. The final straw. So, I have a new one. I saw him for my second monthly appointment last week. There was some horrible traffic shown on the news so I left 90 minutes to get there (a drive that could take 40 minutes traffic-free, rush-hour-free). He seems to run on time, so I went right back for my 15 minute appt and then headed back home. Basically I spent 2-1/2 hours on the road for a 15 minute appt. The "icky" doctor, as we call him here, always ran so, so late that the drive (he was only 10 minutes closer than the new guy) back and forth didn't feel so excessive. Don't get me wrong - this is not a complaint. The new doc is totally worth the drive. Hey, I get to listen to some great music!
And some of the stress is as follows: a doctor's appt with the podiatrist who did my ankle surgery last December who ordered an MRI; a doctor's appt with an ENT who ordered an MRI of my brain (for which I have to have a series of bloodwork done) and an ultrasound of my thyroid; a dental appointment; my usual therapy each week (an hour away) and a number of times getting lost to and from these appts and misinterpreting the date for one appointment (I got lost on the way) and being there a week early. The list goes on with a bunch of financial stuff and other miscellaneous.
So this may have come across as a gripe-fest but it's the circle my life has been on for the past several weeks.
Stress --> depression --> eating --> depression worsening --> comfort eating, etc, etc, etc.
I have to go, there is a pint of Ben & Jerry's calling my name.
Oh yeah, as a PS: I had lost 32 lbs on Weight Watchers prior to this and have found about 10 of those pounds back. Crud!
Monday, November 17, 2014
Crash and Burn
Some of you may think this sounds like one big gripe-fest, but it's just what my life is like right now. To start, this whole bipolar thing has gotten out of control. I saw a new psychiatrist last month and my diagnosis has been officially changed to bipolar 2 (aka bpII). My life is less-than-enjoyable these days. It's not that I can put my finger on something specific and say "this" is why I crashed into a full-fledged depression. I did lose a friend a few weeks back. He was from our church that closed in the Spring, so haven't seen him since then. I'll tell you, though, this guy gave THE BEST hugs! Every Sunday I would walk into church and he would come over and give me a giant hug, complementing me on something - anything. One woman teased that she could be wearing a sack and he would tell her how beautiful she looked. He was just that kind of guy. He was kind-hearted and genuine. He is missed. I also developed a few new friendships who seem to think that mental illness isn't "real" because it is more of a spiritual issue. I don't want to get into specifics, nor do I want any comments about this. I only say it because it is something in my life, as it stands right now.
As for my weight... well, I had lost those 25 lbs without trying the end of last year through the early part of this year. Then I went on Weight Watchers (which rocks, by the way) and lost another 23-ish pounds. Then my mental health tanked. I've lost count of how many pints of Ben and Jerry's I've enjoyed. I also got some regular Turkey Hill ice cream to save money. Today was a Wegman's brand version of Ben and Jerry's. It didn't come close as far as flavor. I'll spend the extra dollar for the real stuff from here on out. While you probably can't tell from this, I am super ticked off that I'm pigging out. I'm also super ticked off that the depression is back. They are absolutely related, although one is a choice (sort of) and the other is not. Intellectually I know I have a choice over the junk food bingeing but it sure doesn't feel like it.
One of the dogs was sick for a few weeks so I was taking both pups for a walk virtually ever day. It probably did good things for my mood. It was so much easier to go for a walk every day when I was doing it for Casey and not myself. Especially with the depression I have no motivation. So now, I am not walking. It's a vicious cycle. Vicious!
So, as a fat chick I say that it's ok to go off plan every so often. Weight Watchers actually allows for it. BUT when this has become a multiple week thing, well, it's hit a bad, bad place. And those... are today's musings.
As for my weight... well, I had lost those 25 lbs without trying the end of last year through the early part of this year. Then I went on Weight Watchers (which rocks, by the way) and lost another 23-ish pounds. Then my mental health tanked. I've lost count of how many pints of Ben and Jerry's I've enjoyed. I also got some regular Turkey Hill ice cream to save money. Today was a Wegman's brand version of Ben and Jerry's. It didn't come close as far as flavor. I'll spend the extra dollar for the real stuff from here on out. While you probably can't tell from this, I am super ticked off that I'm pigging out. I'm also super ticked off that the depression is back. They are absolutely related, although one is a choice (sort of) and the other is not. Intellectually I know I have a choice over the junk food bingeing but it sure doesn't feel like it.
One of the dogs was sick for a few weeks so I was taking both pups for a walk virtually ever day. It probably did good things for my mood. It was so much easier to go for a walk every day when I was doing it for Casey and not myself. Especially with the depression I have no motivation. So now, I am not walking. It's a vicious cycle. Vicious!
So, as a fat chick I say that it's ok to go off plan every so often. Weight Watchers actually allows for it. BUT when this has become a multiple week thing, well, it's hit a bad, bad place. And those... are today's musings.
Friday, July 25, 2014
Isolation
Isolation. Think about it. Isolation. What thought comes to mind? How does it make you feel? How do you define isolation? Dictionary.com defines it as "separated from other persons or things; alone; solitary."
Now, what image comes to mind when you hear the word? Is it positive? My guess is no. Do you envision a homeless person begging for food in the subway? Is it a garden or plantation? Is it someone working at a winery getting grapes? Is it a dog or cat home alone while it's family is not home? How about a person in the middle of a plantation harvesting fruits or vegetables? A person living in the tundra in Alaska? I think you need to reign in your thinking.
I am isolated. Go back and slowly say the word. Ice-o-lay-shun. A middle-class woman who is the parent to 2 kitties (Tori and Bert) and 2 pups (Casey and Poly). I am married with a whose husband is a successful Senior Systems Engineer - read computer geek. I'm not sure you didn't picture me. But it is true. It is one component to depression. It is also something which breeds depression. My depression. The monster has returned making my desire to eat junk food (when I actually want to eat) multiply by dozens.
What does it mean for me? It means that I can go days without even talking with anyone other than my husband and usually my Mom. I spend a lot of time having conversations with my computer and my dogs. I mean a LOT of time. When my hubby is here, I still talk to the screen. At least he talks with the dogs as well. When he hears me whispering to seemingly no one I have to remind him that I personify isolation and am not used to having someone home. Conversations take place mainly on the phone. Even those are few and far between and I usually have to initiate.
So, how does isolation look like? For me, it means I EAT! Now that I'm doing Weight Watchers, the not eating thing/healthy eating isvery hard nearly impossible. Why do I look like a hippopotamus? Because I spend the day snacking. Also, hubster and I eat in front of the television. We all know that is a super bad idea. We basically train ourselves by pairing TV and food. (sorry, that's my psychology degree coming out) It boils down to telling ourselves that we should eat when in the living room. It's not good. The hub and I did it when I worked, and if that wasn't bad enough, now that I'm not working I have the television on most of the time which - you guessed it - means that my brain tells my body that I'm hungry. I feel like I have hundreds of tests and doctor appointments which all seem to lead to more appointments and more tests. I've noticed that when I'm at an appointment I talk and I talk a lot! Human contact. It's vital.
Isolation + food = hippopotamus. Isolation + Weight Watchers = hunger. I get a little cranky when I'm hungry. Add to it having virtually no contact with human beings during the day I want to pig out! We are buying unsweetened applesauce in bulk. It counts as "free" points. Fruit and veggies are FREE (at least as Weight Watchers is concerned. I am finding that I have a problem using all of my daily points - and I really need to do that! I will spend them at the end of the day with junk food. Yeah, that's not part of the plan.
Now that I've brought up WW I'll let you in... I'm down 8.2 lbs since 6/22, averaging 2 lbs each week. Slow and steady wins the race, right? I have to admit, it's frustrating. I do try to look at the big picture. I lost 26 lbs between September and February/March. The whole loss is great (it isn't simple math because I did gain some of those 26 lbs back. Overall, I'm down 32.4 lbs.
I was totally against counting anything help to lose weight. Counting isn't natural. Hubster joined WW before me and went over some of it and now that I've started I think it's a great plan. I did WW when I was younger - a couple of times, in fact - and have always had success. Most of the time I was on the go, so went to the meetings to get weighed and then rushed out. That meant that the online program is just right. It's obviously been success for me so far. Sure it hasn't been long, but I'm headed in the right direction.
Ok, I'm off to enjoy some good diner food. I have about half of my daily points left and about half of my weekly points, too, so I can splurge a bit. I see french toast in my future!
Now, what image comes to mind when you hear the word? Is it positive? My guess is no. Do you envision a homeless person begging for food in the subway? Is it a garden or plantation? Is it someone working at a winery getting grapes? Is it a dog or cat home alone while it's family is not home? How about a person in the middle of a plantation harvesting fruits or vegetables? A person living in the tundra in Alaska? I think you need to reign in your thinking.
I am isolated. Go back and slowly say the word. Ice-o-lay-shun. A middle-class woman who is the parent to 2 kitties (Tori and Bert) and 2 pups (Casey and Poly). I am married with a whose husband is a successful Senior Systems Engineer - read computer geek. I'm not sure you didn't picture me. But it is true. It is one component to depression. It is also something which breeds depression. My depression. The monster has returned making my desire to eat junk food (when I actually want to eat) multiply by dozens.
What does it mean for me? It means that I can go days without even talking with anyone other than my husband and usually my Mom. I spend a lot of time having conversations with my computer and my dogs. I mean a LOT of time. When my hubby is here, I still talk to the screen. At least he talks with the dogs as well. When he hears me whispering to seemingly no one I have to remind him that I personify isolation and am not used to having someone home. Conversations take place mainly on the phone. Even those are few and far between and I usually have to initiate.
So, how does isolation look like? For me, it means I EAT! Now that I'm doing Weight Watchers, the not eating thing/healthy eating is
Isolation + food = hippopotamus. Isolation + Weight Watchers = hunger. I get a little cranky when I'm hungry. Add to it having virtually no contact with human beings during the day I want to pig out! We are buying unsweetened applesauce in bulk. It counts as "free" points. Fruit and veggies are FREE (at least as Weight Watchers is concerned. I am finding that I have a problem using all of my daily points - and I really need to do that! I will spend them at the end of the day with junk food. Yeah, that's not part of the plan.
Now that I've brought up WW I'll let you in... I'm down 8.2 lbs since 6/22, averaging 2 lbs each week. Slow and steady wins the race, right? I have to admit, it's frustrating. I do try to look at the big picture. I lost 26 lbs between September and February/March. The whole loss is great (it isn't simple math because I did gain some of those 26 lbs back. Overall, I'm down 32.4 lbs.
I was totally against counting anything help to lose weight. Counting isn't natural. Hubster joined WW before me and went over some of it and now that I've started I think it's a great plan. I did WW when I was younger - a couple of times, in fact - and have always had success. Most of the time I was on the go, so went to the meetings to get weighed and then rushed out. That meant that the online program is just right. It's obviously been success for me so far. Sure it hasn't been long, but I'm headed in the right direction.
Ok, I'm off to enjoy some good diner food. I have about half of my daily points left and about half of my weekly points, too, so I can splurge a bit. I see french toast in my future!
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Frustration!
I don't know what to say. I'm fuming right now. I've been fighting with an insurance company and the healthcare provider over a specific claim and both ends, of course, say it's the other one's fault. Now, here I am, stuck in the middle with a past-due bill while we're trying to refinance the house. Oh, and I had the car in the shop yesterday for regular maintenance and because of a weird jerking movement it was making. That turned out to cost $600 - I know it could have been worse and this was almost a relief, but it is also $600 we don't have. On top of this, I have woken up the past week or so with headaches and disinterested in taking medications because of the tendency for bounce-back headaches. I finally gave in yesterday and again today. I was also having abdominal issues yesterday, presumably after a virus from over the weekend.
Today, my dogs go out and play in the mud, one of them digging just a little and listening when I said "STOP" but the other totally and completely ignoring the fact that I'm even talking (yelling) and continued to dig to the point where when I finally drug her inside she was muddy from the bottom of her feet to the top of her legs. I had to wipe both dogs' paws off and in order to do so had to bend over. Now we come to the pain issue - my back did NOT tolerate the bending over well - at all! I was screaming and almost in tears (not being able to cry is another issue...), so, so very frustrated with my life and the dogs. Of course they are now sound asleep on the sofa as if they've been good all day. The big digger, Poly, knew I was angry because I yelled IN her face, something I've never done before and with an unknown history, something which I think scared her (frightening her as if she was going to be abused was NOT my intention; I pray she knows she is loved and safe here.... but also that she MUST behave). He sensed my anger and finally came running inside, mostly compliant as I attempted to clean him up.
I am not in a place where I'm handling this stuff well. Yes, in the grand scheme of things none of this is a big deal, but when I'm starting out in a bad place this just sends me spiraling. My language has not been good the past week-ish. While that may not seen like a big deal to anyone reading this, I am a Christian and do not want my language to be something that doesn't glorify Him.
I want MY therapist back.... 3 more weeks - halfway there......
Today, my dogs go out and play in the mud, one of them digging just a little and listening when I said "STOP" but the other totally and completely ignoring the fact that I'm even talking (yelling) and continued to dig to the point where when I finally drug her inside she was muddy from the bottom of her feet to the top of her legs. I had to wipe both dogs' paws off and in order to do so had to bend over. Now we come to the pain issue - my back did NOT tolerate the bending over well - at all! I was screaming and almost in tears (not being able to cry is another issue...), so, so very frustrated with my life and the dogs. Of course they are now sound asleep on the sofa as if they've been good all day. The big digger, Poly, knew I was angry because I yelled IN her face, something I've never done before and with an unknown history, something which I think scared her (frightening her as if she was going to be abused was NOT my intention; I pray she knows she is loved and safe here.... but also that she MUST behave). He sensed my anger and finally came running inside, mostly compliant as I attempted to clean him up.
I am not in a place where I'm handling this stuff well. Yes, in the grand scheme of things none of this is a big deal, but when I'm starting out in a bad place this just sends me spiraling. My language has not been good the past week-ish. While that may not seen like a big deal to anyone reading this, I am a Christian and do not want my language to be something that doesn't glorify Him.
I want MY therapist back.... 3 more weeks - halfway there......
Friday, February 1, 2013
Books, Furry Kids and More
I love to read! The problem is that my concentration is seriously affected by depression. Right now, I am reading Not Lost Forever, a story I heard about on an old 20/20 episode. It's written by a woman who survived a murderous rampage by her father when she was just a toddler. Keith would say that it's my kind of book, my kind of story. What books are you reading? What do you enjoy? I just love to read biographies and autobiographies, to learn about other peoples' stories and what they've experienced. I think it's my inner psychologist. LOL
Not only does the depression affect my concentration, but I am receiving ECT treatments for it and they have destroyed my memory. That means that if I can get through a chapter, the next day I will have virtually no idea what I read. You may be asking yourself "what on earth is ECT?" Well, I'll tell you - it's electroconvulsive therapy, aka "shock therapy." About half of you are probably thinking something about "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" or some such thing, but it's not like that. It's not torturous, it's not for "crazy" people (gosh, I hate that word!), heck, it doesn't even hurt! It's done under anesthesia. If you're curious to read more about it, click here. Or, please, feel free to ask me questions - I don't know you, you have nothing to lose!
Given the ECT, any question starting with "do you remember..." usually gets the response "NO!" Let me tell you, it's frustrating! When I was in the ER last week the doctors kept asking what meds I was on, what specialists I saw, what surgeries I've had, etc. It's mortifying to not know the answers to these questions. It makes me feel incredibly stupid. I've even forgotten an entire vacation Keith and I took. I work hard now to make memories "stick." We'll see how that goes. For the record, such severe memory loss is a rarity!
Back to the "reading" thing... I have a Kindle and love it! I look at the multiple full bookcases I have throughout the house and then at my little Kindle and wonder why I'd ever buy another paperback! This thing is so easy to use and amazon makes it so easy to buy books and download them onto the device. I have a "Kindle Wishlist" on amazon that contains something like 71 books! Is that crazy, or what? I sure wish I could read faster!!
On a completely unrelated topic, you may have noticed that I switched the background for my blog to pawprints. I adore animals and as I've mentioned before, we have 2 dogs and 2 cats (Casey and Poly, Tori and Bert). They are all named with Disney references: Casey's is a hot dog quick service restaurant in the Magic Kingdom; Poly is the abbreviated way to refer to the Polynesian Resort; Victoria and Albert's is a very fancy restaurant in the Grand Floridian Resort (Keith and I enjoyed it on our honeymoon).
All of our furry kids are rescues. Tori and Bert came first. It was just over a week after our dear kitty, Nikki, had to be put down and we fell in love with these guys at the pet store. They are biological siblings and sure act like it! Casey we met through a rescue and the woman fostering him brought along Poly. We just couldn't separate them! They "play" just like siblings, too, even though they don't share any DNA. The rescue told us that Casey is a shepherd mix and Poly is a vizsla mix - who knows, but does it really matter?? No!
There is never a dull day here at the "B" household, that's for sure! These four guys keep us on our toes! It took us a while to tell the difference between the kitties without seeing their collars (Tori's is red, Bert's is green), but now we're pretty good at it; she's the more petite one and he, well, he likes to eat, like his Mom. Casey is a lover - will give kisses until his tongue falls off - but he is very protective of us and does not like strangers, especially males. She is more reserved. To get kisses from her is cause for celebration. You dog lovers will know what I'm saying...!
So, please tell me what you're thinking, ask any questions, and don't hesitate to drop a comment! Thanks for reading my musings!
Not only does the depression affect my concentration, but I am receiving ECT treatments for it and they have destroyed my memory. That means that if I can get through a chapter, the next day I will have virtually no idea what I read. You may be asking yourself "what on earth is ECT?" Well, I'll tell you - it's electroconvulsive therapy, aka "shock therapy." About half of you are probably thinking something about "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" or some such thing, but it's not like that. It's not torturous, it's not for "crazy" people (gosh, I hate that word!), heck, it doesn't even hurt! It's done under anesthesia. If you're curious to read more about it, click here. Or, please, feel free to ask me questions - I don't know you, you have nothing to lose!
Given the ECT, any question starting with "do you remember..." usually gets the response "NO!" Let me tell you, it's frustrating! When I was in the ER last week the doctors kept asking what meds I was on, what specialists I saw, what surgeries I've had, etc. It's mortifying to not know the answers to these questions. It makes me feel incredibly stupid. I've even forgotten an entire vacation Keith and I took. I work hard now to make memories "stick." We'll see how that goes. For the record, such severe memory loss is a rarity!
Back to the "reading" thing... I have a Kindle and love it! I look at the multiple full bookcases I have throughout the house and then at my little Kindle and wonder why I'd ever buy another paperback! This thing is so easy to use and amazon makes it so easy to buy books and download them onto the device. I have a "Kindle Wishlist" on amazon that contains something like 71 books! Is that crazy, or what? I sure wish I could read faster!!
On a completely unrelated topic, you may have noticed that I switched the background for my blog to pawprints. I adore animals and as I've mentioned before, we have 2 dogs and 2 cats (Casey and Poly, Tori and Bert). They are all named with Disney references: Casey's is a hot dog quick service restaurant in the Magic Kingdom; Poly is the abbreviated way to refer to the Polynesian Resort; Victoria and Albert's is a very fancy restaurant in the Grand Floridian Resort (Keith and I enjoyed it on our honeymoon).
.jpg) |
| Nikki |
 |
| Tori (bottom) and Bert (top) |
 |
| Casey (left) and Poly (right) |
There is never a dull day here at the "B" household, that's for sure! These four guys keep us on our toes! It took us a while to tell the difference between the kitties without seeing their collars (Tori's is red, Bert's is green), but now we're pretty good at it; she's the more petite one and he, well, he likes to eat, like his Mom. Casey is a lover - will give kisses until his tongue falls off - but he is very protective of us and does not like strangers, especially males. She is more reserved. To get kisses from her is cause for celebration. You dog lovers will know what I'm saying...!
So, please tell me what you're thinking, ask any questions, and don't hesitate to drop a comment! Thanks for reading my musings!
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