No reason for this graphic except PINK is my favorite color.
I am still banded (surprise surprise!) and after my first fill there is practically still no restriction. I guess this isn't unusual, and it may take a few more fills to have something really happening.
Anyway, I have two other blogs and I have been VERY busy with one of them especially. It's a blog that grew into something more than a blog; it's actually become an effective way for me to both celebrate and raise awareness about a particular breed of dogs (Welsh Corgis, which are actually two breeds), and -- this is the really ambitious (read TIME CONSUMING) thing -- put together a calendar with photos of over 200 of them in it to raise serious funds for the rehabilitation of breed rescues.
It's been exhausting, thrilling, tedious, but most of all rewarding. I can see that it is finally going to happen, that it is going to look fantastic, and that it will be the first creative product I have ever truly conceived of, executed and published entirely on my own.
For reasons of privacy -- I don't want to have my identity traceable through this blog and have people I don't want to know about my bariatric surgery find out about it -- I'm not giving the URL's for my other blogs here. But if you'd like to know more about them, leave your name and contact information in a comment on this blog.
One of them is on Welsh Corgis (here and here) and the other one is all about my taste in design. Mostly home design, but also fashion and various other things. I love color and beautiful things and "romance" (not the Harlequin kind necessarily) and that blog is a way for me to express those things.
So -- if I don't write here for a while it's because three blogs going is too much for me -- but I will in all likelihood be back eventually ...
I live in a very small place, with basically three rooms. (I combine the kitchen and bathroom to make a whole room, with the living room and bedroom rounding out the count). You'd think it would be easy to keep up with the whole maintenance thing.
You'd be wrong!
There is always, always, always something more interesting to do than housework, including picking the tiniest bits of lint off my newly brought out of storage corduroys. Way more intriguing than a Swiffer duster ... trust me.
I had a friend in last weekend to help me get some of the most important things done, and that was good. It was a start.
Housework to be continued ... tomorrow. Or the tomorrow after that.
Day one post-fill has gone well so far ... there really isn't a WHOLE lot more restriction, thought what is there is more noticeable than before.
I've had two protein shakes, about a half cup of split pea soup, and a 4 oz. package of Wheat Thins. (That many Wheat Thins were a no-no, but I'm not doing this perfectly). I haven't had nearly enough water, I'll admit, but before I go to bed in an hour or so I'll have another glass or so, and probably another protein shake.
The major body complaint I have at this point is my aching ankle and knee, which dog me no matter what I do! I think I'd have to rest up for a week in order to calm these hot spots down.
(Sorry, Ben Gay).
Back at the end of April I sprained my left ankle really badly (as in torn ligaments bad), and according to the orthopedist it'll take a year to heal. In the meanwhile, walking on it apparently isn't helping.
The problem with the right knee is simple: I sat on my butt for years and all of a sudden I'm walking around, going up stairs, acting like Wonder Woman ain't got nuthin' on me. A for ambition, D for execution!
I dove right into it -- particularly the climbing stairs part -- without a second thought. They (meaning the people on my bariatric surgery team) said to exercise as soon as possible after surgery, so I did. Walking was the easiest, cheapest (free!) thing going, I could do it right inside my apartment building throughout this Summer's numerous heat waves, and it felt good!
At least until my ankle and knee started screaming blue blazes.
So that's where things are at today. I'm having to practice patience, which means I actually have to find some patience to practice with.
At least I don't have to eat reindeer dumplings. (Globe Trekker is on the telly right now, and they're exploring the cuisine of Scandinivia).
I never fail to be amazed at how miserable I have to get before I pick up the phone (or get on the computer) and contact other people to ask for help!
I'd love to be the woman who does everything right, the first time, on my own, thank you very much! Somewhere along the way I learned that this was the way to BE, and anything less than that meant BEING less. Unacceptable.
Would I expect this of anybody else? Nope. So why do I deserve it?
I know just where I picked up that notion, actually (entire books have been written about how these things get handed down from one life to another) ... but I'd like to learn how to drop it off and leave it behind, for good.
Thing is, I need help with it. (Oh no, not that!)
There are ambassadors at the clinic where I got my bariatric surgery. They're post-op patients successful at a year (or more) out -- some of them are three or more years out -- and they voluntarily make themselves available to those who are following in their footsteps. Or hoping to, at any rate.
One of these ambassadors was a great help to me before the surgery, and she visited me in the hospital afterwards. Super nice woman, a bypass patient whose husband also had the procedure done. Their lives have changed for the better in so many ways ... so yes, she's an inspiration.
The thing is, I get afraid to approach these "success stories" with my own troubles. As if they've never been there, never had similar obstacles to overcome. I struggle to remember that people who are thin are actually the same species as I am -- a humorous exaggeration, but not by much!
It's just been so long since I was anything but an obese person.
My "fathead" thinking is getting in the way. The "I'm not good enough" thinking. The "they'll always be better than me" thinking. Stinking thinking!
The good news? I reached out for help today and a very cool lady who got banded in '06 reached right back. She is the soul of positivity and encouragement. I feel some hope returning, after the desolation of the past couple of weeks.
I'm NOT supposed to be able to do this alone, am I?