Going on hiatus ...

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 ...

Take care!

I heart housework ... NOT!

God, I am SO up a creek right now with housework. 

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. 

Act One.

Housework to be continued ... tomorrow.  Or the tomorrow after that.

We'll see!



Ouch!

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).

Reinder dumplings.  Just say NO!

Wahooooo! Got my first fill today.

I feel so relieved it's done that I could dance the watusi ...

There's definitely some restriction. Not sure yet quite how much because I'm on liquids only for the next twenty-four hours (thank the goddesses I actually like protein shakes).

It's like getting the keys to the car ... let's drive this sucker!

Yay.

Reality calling!

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. 

Anyway ...

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?

If I could, wouldn't I have already done it?

Hangin' by a thread.

Ack!

Still in the "making alterations" phase of post-op ...

... knowing full well this will be of little or no inspiration to those of you hoping to get a boost from my bandit's blog, I'll just say that as I await fill #1, I am eating whatever I want, however much of it I want, and frankly Scarlett -- not giving much of a damn while I'm at it.

I'd like to be able to write that I've been virtuous, my diet's been pure as the driven snow, and am therefore smugly self-satisifed.  But no, none of these are even remotely true.

The one thing I can say is that I've continued my walking routine, even with the bum knee and ankle.  At least there is that, right?

People are telling me to be easy on myself.  That just sounds like utter nonsense to my addled mind right now.  But that probably means it's the most important thing I can hear.  When I'm seriously clinically depressed (which I am), I am averse to hearing helpful things because I doubt any of them will help ME. 

So this is where I'm at, and it's just me being honest about it.

Thanks for reading ... I sincerely hope you are having a far better day than I, dear reader.

image:  blog.craftzine.com

The times, they are a-changin'.

So, after an extended absence (during which I seriously considered deleting this blog altogether), somebody actually asked after my well being via a comment. 

Neat-O!

Not only do people have me bookmarked, at least one of them is actually reading!  I find this encouraging.

So thank you, reader(s).

Where have I been these last weeks ... well, truth be told I've been all over the map.  I have developed a condition my therapist likens to post-partum depression.  I didn't give birth to a child, I gave birth to a new way of doing things around food, and as a food addict that is HUGE.

I had been glossing over that fact, doing a pretty swell job of denying that I needed any more help with this, that I had the whole thing licked (pun intended), when in fact I was whistling Dixie cups in the wind. 

If this major life change has showed me anything at all, it's that I need the support of other people. 

Now I don't know about you, but I grew up in a household where there was a lot of fending for yourself.  By this I refer not to regular meals, clothing, transporation and comfortable shelter.  Instead, I refer to the whole emotional piece of life.  I learned what I learned in a fairly dysfunctional environment, from people who themselves were raised in dysfunctional family systems, and it turns out that you can get along pretty well in life for a while on your own smarts and charms. 

Pretty well, until those things fail to feed your soul (as they inevitably will, if your soul has any depth to it). 

It isn't the first time I've hit a wall like this.  In fact, the wall has the imprint of my face on it.  No mean feat, when you consider it's made of concrete.  (I can be very determined, tenacious, stubborn ... and thick as a brick).

Surprise, surprise ... in spite of what I learned, I'm not supposed to do Life alone. 

In the past two weeks, my best friend's cat died (and it nearly nearly killed the both of us, having to put her down), I lost NO weight, and I started bingeing my brains out again.  There's essentially no restriction with the band as it is, so I'm waiting for next Tuesday's first fill like a hungry baby waits for the bottle.

Thing is, as much as really do need that, I have large issues of self to look at.  Instead of eating, I have to look at them. 

Damn!

To those of you considering having this surgery, especially those who have been dealing with any sort of depressive or anxiety issues over a long span of time, I must warn you:  bariatric surgery will not only NOT fix those things, it might actually exacerbate them until you figure out other ways to "deal" than using food.

Make sure you have a support network, and be ready to use it!