With just a very few days till my surgery, I'm trying to set myself up for success in the details. I need to finalize my grocery list and make sure I'm fully stocked on cream-of-whatnot soups, sugar-free puddings, almond milk and protein powder.
My bag needs packing--I'm NEVER this far behind on packing when there's a trip to be had--and I need to clean/launder as much as possible so that I'm not feeling swamped post-op.
I had my final meeting with the surgeon yesterday. He's a talented doctor and certainly knows his business, but he's not much with bedside manner. On my first meeting, he breezed through in under a minute; this time I got him to slow down a little and talk, for oh, about two minutes.
I asked what bougie size he normally uses for sleeve surgeries. He looked over his shoulder at me, turned around and said "Hmm, you've been reading too much." My response was, "No, actually, I'm a teacher, and I think it's important to educate myself as a patient." He laughed and told me all about bougie sizes and how at the blahblahblah conference of 2009, it was decided that smaller bougies give no discernible benefit to weight loss and actually seem to cause more complications yadda yadda. Long story short, I will be sleeved using a 40 French bougie. Ta-da! Good to know, if only for the sake of trivia.
Okay, I need to buckle down and get moving on all the stuff that needs moving on before Sunday evening.
If I don't blog till after my surgery, don't panic--I promise to be online and posting updates as soon as I feel remotely human again.
Peace and love to all of you who read my ramblings.
Showing posts with label Pre-Op. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pre-Op. Show all posts
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Monday, June 24, 2013
And Then There Were Seven.
Seven days.
168 hours.
1,440 minutes.
604,800 seconds.
That's how much time I have remaining until surgery. I can't believe that the process I started in April--just two short months ago--is almost ready to really begin. Up until now, it's been a flurry of appointments, consultations and workshops. I've spent as much time as I can on the Vertical Sleeve Talk forums, reading and asking lots of questions. I feel as well prepared as I can expect to be.
I'm still nervous about the actual operation and complication risks. I'm nervous about really embracing the lifestyle changes for which I'm signing my body up, for the rest of my life. Can I be successful after a lifetime of failing again and again at weight loss and control of my eating? I have to believe the answer to that is "YES".
It's going to be a new beginning, and as one of my beloved friends once told me in a time of personal crisis, "change is like rebirth, and all birth is painful"; but it's also miraculous. I think I'm ready for my miracle of hard work to begin, in just a week's time.
168 hours.
1,440 minutes.
604,800 seconds.
That's how much time I have remaining until surgery. I can't believe that the process I started in April--just two short months ago--is almost ready to really begin. Up until now, it's been a flurry of appointments, consultations and workshops. I've spent as much time as I can on the Vertical Sleeve Talk forums, reading and asking lots of questions. I feel as well prepared as I can expect to be.
I'm still nervous about the actual operation and complication risks. I'm nervous about really embracing the lifestyle changes for which I'm signing my body up, for the rest of my life. Can I be successful after a lifetime of failing again and again at weight loss and control of my eating? I have to believe the answer to that is "YES".
It's going to be a new beginning, and as one of my beloved friends once told me in a time of personal crisis, "change is like rebirth, and all birth is painful"; but it's also miraculous. I think I'm ready for my miracle of hard work to begin, in just a week's time.
Saturday, June 22, 2013
The Importance of Support
..and no, I don't mean using a good solid underwire brassiere! (Though that certainly has provided a reliable level of support for me in the past...)
Yesterday, I completed the next-to-last consultation on my surgery checklist, the "nurse education seminar." Personally, I think it needs a new name. The way they titled it makes it sound like we're going to a training for nurses, not with nurses; but that's probably my inner English teacher showing. Anywaaaay, the seminar itself was just fine. From my perspective, it was a restatment of most of the things I've already gone out and researched, or learned about on the VST forums, but all of the information was clear and helpful.
Most of the things I've had to do pre-op were things that needed to be completed solo. Lab work, EKG, pulmonary clearance, psych evaluations, support group meetings. My family couldn't really experience these with me, and that can make it a little tough on them. I've had a few months to process and think everything through, but for the people who love me, this is happening really quickly--so the seminar gives them a place to ask questions and get answers from a reliable health care professional. All good.
Yesterday's seminar was pretty small, just me and two other patients with their companions. My SO took it all in, wrote some notes and asked a few questions. No problem. What I did notice, though, was that one lady seemed very uncertain about being sleeved--even though her surgery may be sometime in the next month. I don't mean that she seemed nervous; heck, I'M nervous about this entire thing, most days. Having major surgery that happens to involve the permanent removal of most of a major organ should make us nervous, otherwise we're not taking it seriously.
This lady, though, wasn't just suffering jitters or butterflies. She was questioning whether she should go through with the surgery. She's lost a little weight pre-op--as many of us do--and she's now wondering if she could "just take the weight off the natural way" instead of pursuing surgery. She also seemed interested in the lapband, despite our nurse-educator's statements that the band really isn't done very much in that practice any more due to problems with it and that it often leads to scars and weight regain. She admitted to being uncertain, and attracted to the lapband because it's not necessarily permanent.
That's all well and good. If any candidate for surgery decides it's not for them, especially a surgery that is irreversible, I support that choice. After all, the surgeons aren't going anywhere; you can always opt to try it down the road if you re-change your mind. What bothered me, though, was the attitude of this nervous lady's husband.
He was rah-thuh like Thurston Howell the Third (y'know, from "Gilligan's Island"). At first, he came across as very concerned for his wife; wanting to know about healing times and complication rates, and post-op dietary needs. Later, though, he seemed to be the driving force behind her uncertainty. He said that if she's lost weight on her own, it makes him believe surgery isn't as necessary as self-discipline.
Imma let you re-read that last sentence.
...
...
Yeah.
He's not celebrating her progress in losing a little weight before surgery. He's basically blaming her lack of "self discipline" for her obesity. She's fat, and it's because she's weak. She lacks control. She's taking the easy way out.
Okay--he didn't say those things out loud, but he may as well have. When I pointed out that his wife might feel more confident about her choice if she had a support system that included sleeved post-op patients who could share their experiences with her, he asked if I knew anyone who'd been sleeved. Why, yes, actually--and she's been incredibly successful; managed to get from near 300 lbs. to a size 10 in two years. His response? "Was she disciplined about losing weight?"
What the eff kind of question is that? Was she disciplined? Well, yeah, she was--so are most successful WLS'ers. But the sleeve is a major help--thus the reason many post-op people call it their "tool". Kind of tough to sit down and eat an entire pizza or a bucket of chicken wings when your stomach can't hold more than half a cup! I shouldn't care so much about someone else's decision either yea or nay about having this surgery. I guess that man's smug WASPish attitude and condescending outlook toward his wife's prospects for success really bothered me.
After that epiphany, I realized that I'm lucky to have my family's support. I made sure to let them know that, after witnessing what the other side of the coin can be like.
I hope you have a good, strong support system, too!
Yesterday, I completed the next-to-last consultation on my surgery checklist, the "nurse education seminar." Personally, I think it needs a new name. The way they titled it makes it sound like we're going to a training for nurses, not with nurses; but that's probably my inner English teacher showing. Anywaaaay, the seminar itself was just fine. From my perspective, it was a restatment of most of the things I've already gone out and researched, or learned about on the VST forums, but all of the information was clear and helpful.
Most of the things I've had to do pre-op were things that needed to be completed solo. Lab work, EKG, pulmonary clearance, psych evaluations, support group meetings. My family couldn't really experience these with me, and that can make it a little tough on them. I've had a few months to process and think everything through, but for the people who love me, this is happening really quickly--so the seminar gives them a place to ask questions and get answers from a reliable health care professional. All good.
Yesterday's seminar was pretty small, just me and two other patients with their companions. My SO took it all in, wrote some notes and asked a few questions. No problem. What I did notice, though, was that one lady seemed very uncertain about being sleeved--even though her surgery may be sometime in the next month. I don't mean that she seemed nervous; heck, I'M nervous about this entire thing, most days. Having major surgery that happens to involve the permanent removal of most of a major organ should make us nervous, otherwise we're not taking it seriously.
This lady, though, wasn't just suffering jitters or butterflies. She was questioning whether she should go through with the surgery. She's lost a little weight pre-op--as many of us do--and she's now wondering if she could "just take the weight off the natural way" instead of pursuing surgery. She also seemed interested in the lapband, despite our nurse-educator's statements that the band really isn't done very much in that practice any more due to problems with it and that it often leads to scars and weight regain. She admitted to being uncertain, and attracted to the lapband because it's not necessarily permanent.
That's all well and good. If any candidate for surgery decides it's not for them, especially a surgery that is irreversible, I support that choice. After all, the surgeons aren't going anywhere; you can always opt to try it down the road if you re-change your mind. What bothered me, though, was the attitude of this nervous lady's husband.
He was rah-thuh like Thurston Howell the Third (y'know, from "Gilligan's Island"). At first, he came across as very concerned for his wife; wanting to know about healing times and complication rates, and post-op dietary needs. Later, though, he seemed to be the driving force behind her uncertainty. He said that if she's lost weight on her own, it makes him believe surgery isn't as necessary as self-discipline.
Imma let you re-read that last sentence.
...
...
Yeah.
He's not celebrating her progress in losing a little weight before surgery. He's basically blaming her lack of "self discipline" for her obesity. She's fat, and it's because she's weak. She lacks control. She's taking the easy way out.
Okay--he didn't say those things out loud, but he may as well have. When I pointed out that his wife might feel more confident about her choice if she had a support system that included sleeved post-op patients who could share their experiences with her, he asked if I knew anyone who'd been sleeved. Why, yes, actually--and she's been incredibly successful; managed to get from near 300 lbs. to a size 10 in two years. His response? "Was she disciplined about losing weight?"
What the eff kind of question is that? Was she disciplined? Well, yeah, she was--so are most successful WLS'ers. But the sleeve is a major help--thus the reason many post-op people call it their "tool". Kind of tough to sit down and eat an entire pizza or a bucket of chicken wings when your stomach can't hold more than half a cup! I shouldn't care so much about someone else's decision either yea or nay about having this surgery. I guess that man's smug WASPish attitude and condescending outlook toward his wife's prospects for success really bothered me.
After that epiphany, I realized that I'm lucky to have my family's support. I made sure to let them know that, after witnessing what the other side of the coin can be like.
I hope you have a good, strong support system, too!
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
What Do You Most Want out of WLS?
I don't think anyone really goes into weight-loss surgery--whether it's Roux-en-Y, the lapband, or the gastric sleeve--without really wanting something. I mean, who would willingly undergo anesthesia, the risks of abdominal surgery, have their innards re-routed, removed, or forcibly collared with a foreign object, unless the possible benefits FAR outweighed (pardon the pun) the possible risks or side effects? Nobody, that's who.
So what is it that you want most from this big "system reset"? Are you focused on health as your top priority? Getting rid of blood pressure meds, insulin, crackling knees and aching hips? Are you looking forward to wearing clothes that accentuate your slimmer self rather than camouflage the bumps and wobbles? Are you excited to be able to join in on physical activities; whether that means running a 10K or chasing your toddler around the park?
If I'm brutally honest with myself, I guess it's a little of all three, but although my middle-aged body is starting to protest at lugging around an extra Olsen-twin-and-a-half of weight, I haven't had any major health complications from my obesity. Okay, I'm not able to run up three flights of stairs any more without feeling like I'll need a fifteen-minute rest and an oxygen tank at the top, that's true. I'll probably be more active post-op, though I don't see myself becoming a marathoner. (It could happen, but I doubt it. If I suddenly crave long-distance running, I promise to let you know!) My kids are both in their teens, so we don't do a lot of Red Rover or tag in the back yard these days.
My main focus is to be happy in my own skin. Maybe that's a little vain, but there it is. I want to shop for pretty clothes that make me want to sashay instead of hide. I want to look the best that middle-aged me can. I want my kids to be proud of how their mom looks, instead of feeling defensive about having a "fat mom". I'm tired of hating the way I look, and REALLY tired of hating myself for not succeeding at weight loss in the past.
That's my big prize, the one I'm going to struggle towards every single day for the next couple of years. I want to be in the best shape I can be, in the smallest size I can reach.
What's your big goal?
So what is it that you want most from this big "system reset"? Are you focused on health as your top priority? Getting rid of blood pressure meds, insulin, crackling knees and aching hips? Are you looking forward to wearing clothes that accentuate your slimmer self rather than camouflage the bumps and wobbles? Are you excited to be able to join in on physical activities; whether that means running a 10K or chasing your toddler around the park?
If I'm brutally honest with myself, I guess it's a little of all three, but although my middle-aged body is starting to protest at lugging around an extra Olsen-twin-and-a-half of weight, I haven't had any major health complications from my obesity. Okay, I'm not able to run up three flights of stairs any more without feeling like I'll need a fifteen-minute rest and an oxygen tank at the top, that's true. I'll probably be more active post-op, though I don't see myself becoming a marathoner. (It could happen, but I doubt it. If I suddenly crave long-distance running, I promise to let you know!) My kids are both in their teens, so we don't do a lot of Red Rover or tag in the back yard these days.
My main focus is to be happy in my own skin. Maybe that's a little vain, but there it is. I want to shop for pretty clothes that make me want to sashay instead of hide. I want to look the best that middle-aged me can. I want my kids to be proud of how their mom looks, instead of feeling defensive about having a "fat mom". I'm tired of hating the way I look, and REALLY tired of hating myself for not succeeding at weight loss in the past.
That's my big prize, the one I'm going to struggle towards every single day for the next couple of years. I want to be in the best shape I can be, in the smallest size I can reach.
What's your big goal?
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Is it Possible to Love a Kitchen Appliance?
Okay, that might be the oddest question you read today. Unless of course you frequent one of the many WLS forums, in which case you probably have read half a dozen weird questions today; if you have a four year-old, you have probably been exposed to at least 20 odd queries. If you frequent a hentai site or two, you've seen things I never EVER want you to tell me about. Ever.
Anyway...I think I may have a crush on my new blender. It's definitely puppy love; only time will tell if it's a forever relationship based on trust and mutual respect. If you're a weight-loss surgery patient (or candidate), I'm sure you've put at least a little thought into the blender you'll be using to make smoothies, soups or the like. I have a stick blender--and I love that little guy. It can whip up gravy and sauces, scramble up omelets so fluffy they want to levitate above the frying pan. But to use it as my tool of choice for pre/post-op protein shakes and lump-free soups would have been a messy undertaking at best.
I looked into the NutriBullet, which seemed fantastic for individual servings. It appeared to be compact, powerful enough to handle frozen fruit and ice cubes, and performed well in the YouTube reviews I watched. Then I took a look at the Vitamix (a.k.a. the Auction-A-Kidney-And-Refinance-Your-Mortgage 5000). Holy wowzers, that thing looks like the blender version of a Blackhawk crossed with a Lamborghini. I love having shiny new toys--who doesn't--but at 400 to 500 dollars, I just couldn't justify that purchase. If I were a professional restauranteur, maybe it would be a great investment, but to whiz together some Syntrax and almond milk with some ice? Overkill.
Then I stumbled across the Ninja blender series. I actually saw it on an infomercial and resisted the siren song of "just four easy payments of $44.99" despite how badly I wanted to give in and call that 800 number. Then, lo and behold, I saw the same basic system at Tarjay. The price was $20 higher, but I'd be saving shipping and handling, right? Hmm. Ponderponder.
The breakthrough happened when I checked into the same system at Bed, Bath & Beyond. When you sign up online with them for their email newsletter, you get a 20%-off one item coupon. Armed with that fantastic little coupon, I hotfooted it over to BB&B yesterday. It doesn't have all the toys that come with the package sold on the Ninja website--but I saved a good chunk of change in shipping costs, and the coupon brought the price down to below-Tarjay range. Yes, it cost more than the NutriBullet--but instead of a single-serve cup, I now have IMMENSE COSMIC POWER. No. No, I don't, actually. No immense cosmic power; more's the pity. But what I do have is a 9-cup blender, complete with an 8-cup mixing bowl/dough hook/3-cup bowl insert, two single-serve cups with travel lids, and a blender that blows the doors clear off of anything else I've ever owned that dared call itself a blender.
I made the most amazing whole-food smoothie last night to christen my new purchase. I tossed in--with reckless abandon and practically no measuring, mind you--kiwi, pineapple, cucumber, spinach, protein powder, white grape juice, ice cubes, hemp seeds, and vanilla Chobani yogurt. Vroooooom. I ended up with a full container of cool green goodness that made a delicious liquid breakfast. And it's only the beginning. So many possibilities, so many options to explore...
It's true, I admit it. Resistance is futile.
I'm in love with a Ninja.
Anyway...I think I may have a crush on my new blender. It's definitely puppy love; only time will tell if it's a forever relationship based on trust and mutual respect. If you're a weight-loss surgery patient (or candidate), I'm sure you've put at least a little thought into the blender you'll be using to make smoothies, soups or the like. I have a stick blender--and I love that little guy. It can whip up gravy and sauces, scramble up omelets so fluffy they want to levitate above the frying pan. But to use it as my tool of choice for pre/post-op protein shakes and lump-free soups would have been a messy undertaking at best.
I looked into the NutriBullet, which seemed fantastic for individual servings. It appeared to be compact, powerful enough to handle frozen fruit and ice cubes, and performed well in the YouTube reviews I watched. Then I took a look at the Vitamix (a.k.a. the Auction-A-Kidney-And-Refinance-Your-Mortgage 5000). Holy wowzers, that thing looks like the blender version of a Blackhawk crossed with a Lamborghini. I love having shiny new toys--who doesn't--but at 400 to 500 dollars, I just couldn't justify that purchase. If I were a professional restauranteur, maybe it would be a great investment, but to whiz together some Syntrax and almond milk with some ice? Overkill.
Then I stumbled across the Ninja blender series. I actually saw it on an infomercial and resisted the siren song of "just four easy payments of $44.99" despite how badly I wanted to give in and call that 800 number. Then, lo and behold, I saw the same basic system at Tarjay. The price was $20 higher, but I'd be saving shipping and handling, right? Hmm. Ponderponder.
The breakthrough happened when I checked into the same system at Bed, Bath & Beyond. When you sign up online with them for their email newsletter, you get a 20%-off one item coupon. Armed with that fantastic little coupon, I hotfooted it over to BB&B yesterday. It doesn't have all the toys that come with the package sold on the Ninja website--but I saved a good chunk of change in shipping costs, and the coupon brought the price down to below-Tarjay range. Yes, it cost more than the NutriBullet--but instead of a single-serve cup, I now have IMMENSE COSMIC POWER. No. No, I don't, actually. No immense cosmic power; more's the pity. But what I do have is a 9-cup blender, complete with an 8-cup mixing bowl/dough hook/3-cup bowl insert, two single-serve cups with travel lids, and a blender that blows the doors clear off of anything else I've ever owned that dared call itself a blender.
I made the most amazing whole-food smoothie last night to christen my new purchase. I tossed in--with reckless abandon and practically no measuring, mind you--kiwi, pineapple, cucumber, spinach, protein powder, white grape juice, ice cubes, hemp seeds, and vanilla Chobani yogurt. Vroooooom. I ended up with a full container of cool green goodness that made a delicious liquid breakfast. And it's only the beginning. So many possibilities, so many options to explore...
It's true, I admit it. Resistance is futile.
I'm in love with a Ninja.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
OMGYOUGUYS. YOUGUYSYOUGUYSOMG.
Approval letter:
ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED!!
*happy dances all around the laundry baskets in the living room*
Next step--getting my finalized surgery date from the surgeon's office. Wheeeeeee!!
ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED!!
*happy dances all around the laundry baskets in the living room*
Next step--getting my finalized surgery date from the surgeon's office. Wheeeeeee!!
Monday, June 3, 2013
One More Hurdle has been Hurdled!
As of today, I have finished all of the pre-op nutritional visits, pre-op tests/lab work, pre-op one-on-one counseling sessions that my surgeon requires! All that I have left are three behavior/lifestyle workshops--one each Tuesday evening for the next three weeks--a surgeon's final follow-up, and a FINAL final surgeon visit with family members so that they know the drill for procedure day, and have everything ready at home for my hospital discharge post-op.
I can't believe how much I've fit into two months. It's been crayzee hectic insane, but it's getting done! I even called the insurance company to make sure I won't get walloped with a huge unexpected bill for anything afterwards, and they reassured me that the most I'll be charged is just over $200, the balance of my annual deductible. Woohoo!
So far, from small dietary changes like incorporating protein shakes at least 1-2 times a day and focusing on reducing carbs and eliminating my 350-calorie coffee every day, I've lost 11 pounds. This is small taters compared to the 90-ish I'm hoping to still lose; but you know what, I'll take every ounce as a small battle won in the Great War to come!
Anyway, progress is being made on several fronts, and that is all good, all the time! How is your WLS journey? Are you just starting out, or have you already nearly won your war?
I can't believe how much I've fit into two months. It's been crayzee hectic insane, but it's getting done! I even called the insurance company to make sure I won't get walloped with a huge unexpected bill for anything afterwards, and they reassured me that the most I'll be charged is just over $200, the balance of my annual deductible. Woohoo!
So far, from small dietary changes like incorporating protein shakes at least 1-2 times a day and focusing on reducing carbs and eliminating my 350-calorie coffee every day, I've lost 11 pounds. This is small taters compared to the 90-ish I'm hoping to still lose; but you know what, I'll take every ounce as a small battle won in the Great War to come!
Anyway, progress is being made on several fronts, and that is all good, all the time! How is your WLS journey? Are you just starting out, or have you already nearly won your war?
Sunday, June 2, 2013
To Tell, or not to Tell, Part Deux.
When I first made my decision to have weight-loss surgery, I was bound and determined that I would keep the choice to myself. Having struggled with my weight almost my entire adult life, I saw no reason to open myself up to criticism or debate on the subject. It's my fat; I'm the one suffering because of it; it's my decision to make, and no one else's.
Since then (gosh, a whole two months ago), I've opened up to my mom and my sister, both of whom have been very supportive. They may have their doubts, but they've kept them to themselves. I'm sure if I asked "are you worried about my WLS" or "do you wish I would just go on a diet", they'd open up about it, buuuuuut why would I do that? ;)
I'm pretty sure that I know more than two people who've chosen weight-loss surgery, but they've opted not to share that knowledge, even when others ask them what their secret is for losing so much weight. They dodge with "well, I'm eating better these days," which would be 100% true after WLS, no doubt!
I don't know yet what I will say when my co-workers ask me. There are those who I know would be sincerely happy for me. Others might be curious and possibly considering surgery for themselves--and perhaps my sharing would be helpful to them. Then there are those who don't really care; they're just eager for gossip fodder.
Will you/have you let anyone in on your VSG/bypass/lapband procedure news? I'm still mulling it over, and I'll just do what feels right when it happens.
Since then (gosh, a whole two months ago), I've opened up to my mom and my sister, both of whom have been very supportive. They may have their doubts, but they've kept them to themselves. I'm sure if I asked "are you worried about my WLS" or "do you wish I would just go on a diet", they'd open up about it, buuuuuut why would I do that? ;)
I'm pretty sure that I know more than two people who've chosen weight-loss surgery, but they've opted not to share that knowledge, even when others ask them what their secret is for losing so much weight. They dodge with "well, I'm eating better these days," which would be 100% true after WLS, no doubt!
I don't know yet what I will say when my co-workers ask me. There are those who I know would be sincerely happy for me. Others might be curious and possibly considering surgery for themselves--and perhaps my sharing would be helpful to them. Then there are those who don't really care; they're just eager for gossip fodder.
Will you/have you let anyone in on your VSG/bypass/lapband procedure news? I'm still mulling it over, and I'll just do what feels right when it happens.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Tried My First Protein Powder Today...
One of my co-workers generously brought me a ziploc sample of some protein powder that she and her husband use, so that I could do my first test run of protein drinks.
This particular one is called Dymatize Elite Whey Protein; today I tossed some chocolate-flavored powder into a bottle of Dasani water while at work. I realize that going "shakeshakeshake" with a bottle is a little low-tech, and maybe a good blender, with some ice or frozen fruit, will improve the overall experience.
If I had to critique it, I'd say it's probably a 7 on a palatability scale. A little gritty--but again, that's most likely due to the lack of blending options available to me here at work. The most off-putting thing was the scent. I wasn't anticipating the wafting aroma, which really reminds me of infant formula. If I can get past that, it's not so bad. I've finished almost 8 oz. without too much "bleah" factor. Not sure how a week or two of liquids post-op is going to go, but it probably won't be much fun. Sigh.
I still have a baggie of vanilla-flavored powder; my colleague recommends adding a dollop or two of Chobani vanilla yogurt and some frozen fruit. I'm thinking that sounds reeeeeally good. I'll let you know how it goes!
What protein shakes do you prefer? Post them in the comments!
*****Updated to Add******
So, I drank about 8 oz. of the chocolate protein shake at around noon. Maybe it's a "head thing", but rather than feeling my usual urge to snack right after work (3:00 p.m.), I was able to hold off comfortably and not feel hunger until nearly 4:30. That's kind of amazing for me. Usually, I am SO hungry when the day ends that I just have to get something to stave off the tummygrowls. Today I came home, grabbed some water and a lowfat string cheese--which is probably 75% less food than I'd normally nosh after work.
Veddy eenteresting...will have to see if this trend continues!
This particular one is called Dymatize Elite Whey Protein; today I tossed some chocolate-flavored powder into a bottle of Dasani water while at work. I realize that going "shakeshakeshake" with a bottle is a little low-tech, and maybe a good blender, with some ice or frozen fruit, will improve the overall experience.
If I had to critique it, I'd say it's probably a 7 on a palatability scale. A little gritty--but again, that's most likely due to the lack of blending options available to me here at work. The most off-putting thing was the scent. I wasn't anticipating the wafting aroma, which really reminds me of infant formula. If I can get past that, it's not so bad. I've finished almost 8 oz. without too much "bleah" factor. Not sure how a week or two of liquids post-op is going to go, but it probably won't be much fun. Sigh.
I still have a baggie of vanilla-flavored powder; my colleague recommends adding a dollop or two of Chobani vanilla yogurt and some frozen fruit. I'm thinking that sounds reeeeeally good. I'll let you know how it goes!
What protein shakes do you prefer? Post them in the comments!
*****Updated to Add******
So, I drank about 8 oz. of the chocolate protein shake at around noon. Maybe it's a "head thing", but rather than feeling my usual urge to snack right after work (3:00 p.m.), I was able to hold off comfortably and not feel hunger until nearly 4:30. That's kind of amazing for me. Usually, I am SO hungry when the day ends that I just have to get something to stave off the tummygrowls. Today I came home, grabbed some water and a lowfat string cheese--which is probably 75% less food than I'd normally nosh after work.
Veddy eenteresting...will have to see if this trend continues!
Why am I NOT asleep...
Yikes. I have been staying up MUCH too late recently. I'm a night owl by default, and left to my own devices (such as school vacations, etc.), I will stay up till sunrise doing things I enjoy. Reading, watching the movies of my youth (who can sleep when "The Princess Bride" is on?!) or blogging; trawling up and down my newsfeed on Facebook...yep. That's me. Livin' on the EDGE. ::cue Aerosmith::
Considering that I get up for work at around 5:45 a.m., there's no earthly reason for me to be awake right now. I think it's sheer stubbornness, really. In my twisted little mind, I spend about 12 hours or so doing stuff I dunwanna do. Working, errand-ing, etc. When I have "me time", I cling to it and suck the sweet, sweet marrow from its crunchy center. It's like putting a toddler to bed to get me to turn out the lights and surrender.
VSG thoughts for the day are pretty much standard issue. Excitement, worry, shades of hysteria, hope, you name it. On Monday, I have my first "NUT" appointment, as they say on the VST forums. (NUT = nutritionist. Hey, I don't make up the abbreviations, I just use them.) I need to finish my food diary--bleargh--and make sure I have everything else ready. Should be interesting. What I hope is that it isn't a preachy good-health session brought to me by a chirpy, thin twenny-sumpin' slip of a girl. We shall see!
Guys. I'm still hoping to see commentary from you, whether you're just breezing through or reading everything I've posted so far. Lemme know if what I write clicks or clunks for you. Share your ideas. Give me a pat on the back or a pie in the face, doesn't make no nevermind to me! Happy Thursday--let's get that weekend ushered in, shall we?
Off to get horizontal before sunrise...
Considering that I get up for work at around 5:45 a.m., there's no earthly reason for me to be awake right now. I think it's sheer stubbornness, really. In my twisted little mind, I spend about 12 hours or so doing stuff I dunwanna do. Working, errand-ing, etc. When I have "me time", I cling to it and suck the sweet, sweet marrow from its crunchy center. It's like putting a toddler to bed to get me to turn out the lights and surrender.
VSG thoughts for the day are pretty much standard issue. Excitement, worry, shades of hysteria, hope, you name it. On Monday, I have my first "NUT" appointment, as they say on the VST forums. (NUT = nutritionist. Hey, I don't make up the abbreviations, I just use them.) I need to finish my food diary--bleargh--and make sure I have everything else ready. Should be interesting. What I hope is that it isn't a preachy good-health session brought to me by a chirpy, thin twenny-sumpin' slip of a girl. We shall see!
Guys. I'm still hoping to see commentary from you, whether you're just breezing through or reading everything I've posted so far. Lemme know if what I write clicks or clunks for you. Share your ideas. Give me a pat on the back or a pie in the face, doesn't make no nevermind to me! Happy Thursday--let's get that weekend ushered in, shall we?
Off to get horizontal before sunrise...
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
The Agony and the Ecstasy
Urgh.
Waiting and prepping for VSG ain't for sissies. I keep hoping the back-and-forth pendulum swing of excitement, doubt, worry, anticipation, excitement, repeat ad nauseam will stop--or at least slow down--but so far, no go. It's a great way to make yourself feel pretty well discombobulated. Don't get me wrong, I am still all in favor of the need for this surgery. It's not a passing interest, and I am doing my best to educate myself and absorb all the information I can about the multiple ways my life and eating habits MUST change in order for me to have any long-term success, post-op.
That's my agony. The waiting, the anticipatory worry. The not knowing exactly when this all will fall into place so that I can say, "my operation date is _____________" and make all the arrangements I need to make ahead of time. Right now, we're in the hurry-up-and-wait phase. Crayzee making, is what it is. Deprived of hard, cold information, my imagination goes haywire and sets me up for stressing over all the things I can't possibly control. Like worrying over complications; worrying about inevitable hair loss; worrying over whether I'll be a relatively fast healer (as I was for each of my Cesarean sections a decade and a decade and a half ago), or whether I'm going to still be feeling like the north-pointing end of a south-walking cow weeks after I'm home. Worrying over what my operation date is going to be, and whether I'll be able to heal quickly enough to be at 100% efficiency when school reopens in September. Ideally, I want my procedure done during the summer--but whether or not that happens is dependent on things like how quickly I'm able to get through all the appointments and classes that are required, which, again, I can't really control; I have to take 'em when they're available.
Achieving a zen-like calm is not as easy as you might think.
The ecstasy is at least not making me toss and turn at night. Mostly, I'm ecstatic about the way I hope to feel and look, a few months post-op. A year afterwards, I'm expecting to have the BEST summer ever. I intend to get out in the world, go to the beach during actual operating hours instead of waiting until after dinnertime so that fewer people see me in a bathing suit. I'm wondering what it might feel like to be able to buy gorgeous renfaire garb in a much smaller size, what it might be like to be SO proud of how I look in a narrower bodice, and maybe even wear a *gasp* calf-baring skirt. To be able to buy boots that aren't made for "wide calves". To be able to shop for work clothes and jeans and cute tops at a store that ISN'T plus sizes only. Wow.
That ecstasy is going to be what I cling to when I'm in pain, when I'm questioning my choice; when I'm feeling overwhelmed by new eating rules, when I'm tempted to make old, familiar, bad eating choices and avoid exercise. I'm going to keep the image of a more slender me right up in front of my eyes, even before it's real. And that's how I'm gonna make it become real.
What do you cling to for mental strength and motivation? Comments, please!
Waiting and prepping for VSG ain't for sissies. I keep hoping the back-and-forth pendulum swing of excitement, doubt, worry, anticipation, excitement, repeat ad nauseam will stop--or at least slow down--but so far, no go. It's a great way to make yourself feel pretty well discombobulated. Don't get me wrong, I am still all in favor of the need for this surgery. It's not a passing interest, and I am doing my best to educate myself and absorb all the information I can about the multiple ways my life and eating habits MUST change in order for me to have any long-term success, post-op.
That's my agony. The waiting, the anticipatory worry. The not knowing exactly when this all will fall into place so that I can say, "my operation date is _____________" and make all the arrangements I need to make ahead of time. Right now, we're in the hurry-up-and-wait phase. Crayzee making, is what it is. Deprived of hard, cold information, my imagination goes haywire and sets me up for stressing over all the things I can't possibly control. Like worrying over complications; worrying about inevitable hair loss; worrying over whether I'll be a relatively fast healer (as I was for each of my Cesarean sections a decade and a decade and a half ago), or whether I'm going to still be feeling like the north-pointing end of a south-walking cow weeks after I'm home. Worrying over what my operation date is going to be, and whether I'll be able to heal quickly enough to be at 100% efficiency when school reopens in September. Ideally, I want my procedure done during the summer--but whether or not that happens is dependent on things like how quickly I'm able to get through all the appointments and classes that are required, which, again, I can't really control; I have to take 'em when they're available.
Achieving a zen-like calm is not as easy as you might think.
The ecstasy is at least not making me toss and turn at night. Mostly, I'm ecstatic about the way I hope to feel and look, a few months post-op. A year afterwards, I'm expecting to have the BEST summer ever. I intend to get out in the world, go to the beach during actual operating hours instead of waiting until after dinnertime so that fewer people see me in a bathing suit. I'm wondering what it might feel like to be able to buy gorgeous renfaire garb in a much smaller size, what it might be like to be SO proud of how I look in a narrower bodice, and maybe even wear a *gasp* calf-baring skirt. To be able to buy boots that aren't made for "wide calves". To be able to shop for work clothes and jeans and cute tops at a store that ISN'T plus sizes only. Wow.
That ecstasy is going to be what I cling to when I'm in pain, when I'm questioning my choice; when I'm feeling overwhelmed by new eating rules, when I'm tempted to make old, familiar, bad eating choices and avoid exercise. I'm going to keep the image of a more slender me right up in front of my eyes, even before it's real. And that's how I'm gonna make it become real.
What do you cling to for mental strength and motivation? Comments, please!
Saturday, April 27, 2013
My Post-Op Promise.
***Cross Posted from the VST Forums***
My post-op promise (for when I get there):
Well, I could say I swear to forever and always give up sweets and carbs, but I know myself, and that's not realistic. One day, post-op, I will indulge in a nibble or two, and be able to step away from the sugars.
I could say I swear to work out for two hours a day, 7 days a week, but unless I've fallen through a rip in the time-space continuum into an alternate universe, I'm gonna have to go with "nope" on that as well.
But here's what I can promise. I solemnly swear not to be one of those post-WLS folks who feel so pleased with their own success and progress that they then look down on obese people who haven't made changes. I will never hate on any non-WLS person.
What makes me say this right now? (Apart from the fact that I'm just not that mean?) I've been reading around the internet, looking at WLS blogs that are scattered across various sites, reading Facebook profiles that were linked to the authors of those blogs, and stumbled across someone's public Facebook photo of an extremely obese woman who was out running her errands (shopping and whatnot). This woman most likely had NO idea she was being photographed, and the picture is certainly not flattering. The caption mentioned how the photographer felt "sick to their sleeve" after looking at the obese lady.
Wow.
Now, I don't know the photographer from Adam's left ox; I just happened to stumble across them while internet-wandering, and they had publicly posted photos--the pics weren't hidden in any way. I clicked away from that Facebook profile feeling sad and disgusted that someone who bragged about conquering their food challenges and accepted lots of public back-patting for it would then skewer another human being who hasn't been able/brave enough/informed enough to take the same steps.
So, I am publicly promising never, EVER, to be that catty and smug about whatever progress this tool brings my way. I will never, EVER judge someone else who isn't on the same path as my own. Weighing less won't turn me into a rude or obnoxious person, any more than being heavy makes me one.
You can all hold me to it.
My post-op promise (for when I get there):
Well, I could say I swear to forever and always give up sweets and carbs, but I know myself, and that's not realistic. One day, post-op, I will indulge in a nibble or two, and be able to step away from the sugars.
I could say I swear to work out for two hours a day, 7 days a week, but unless I've fallen through a rip in the time-space continuum into an alternate universe, I'm gonna have to go with "nope" on that as well.
But here's what I can promise. I solemnly swear not to be one of those post-WLS folks who feel so pleased with their own success and progress that they then look down on obese people who haven't made changes. I will never hate on any non-WLS person.
What makes me say this right now? (Apart from the fact that I'm just not that mean?) I've been reading around the internet, looking at WLS blogs that are scattered across various sites, reading Facebook profiles that were linked to the authors of those blogs, and stumbled across someone's public Facebook photo of an extremely obese woman who was out running her errands (shopping and whatnot). This woman most likely had NO idea she was being photographed, and the picture is certainly not flattering. The caption mentioned how the photographer felt "sick to their sleeve" after looking at the obese lady.
Wow.
Now, I don't know the photographer from Adam's left ox; I just happened to stumble across them while internet-wandering, and they had publicly posted photos--the pics weren't hidden in any way. I clicked away from that Facebook profile feeling sad and disgusted that someone who bragged about conquering their food challenges and accepted lots of public back-patting for it would then skewer another human being who hasn't been able/brave enough/informed enough to take the same steps.
So, I am publicly promising never, EVER, to be that catty and smug about whatever progress this tool brings my way. I will never, EVER judge someone else who isn't on the same path as my own. Weighing less won't turn me into a rude or obnoxious person, any more than being heavy makes me one.
You can all hold me to it.
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