Just say no...

...to peanut butter, breadsticks and tortilla chips.

Good lord, yesterday was a binge beyond compare! I think what happened was that I've been so good in preparation for all these follow up visits, that after I got done with my nutritionist yesterday, I just let 'er rip.

It reminded me of a time about 3 years ago when I had an appointment with my primary care doctor. For a month I really worked hard at eating right, watching my blood sugars, etc. I didn't want to get bitched at AGAIN when I stepped on the scale. That visit went well. She was pleased. I didn't get yelled at. And on the way home, I stopped at the Dollar store, bought a bag of greasy cheese balls to celebrate and ate the whole thing within an hour.

I remember that sense of relief and letting go while I ate the cheese balls. And I had a feeling at the time that it was the beginning of the end. It was. Within the next few months, I packed on 30 pounds. Six months later, I was sitting in a surgeon's office asking about gastric bypass.

I kind of felt the same way yesterday eating 6 rice cakes and a half a jar of peanut butter as I did scarfing down the cheese balls. I just couldn't get them in my mouth fast enough. I knew what I was doing was not a good choice. I chose not to care.

The final difference has come down to this: I never stopped eating three years ago. I stopped stuffing last night. I let myself eat until bed time, understanding that I was consuming quadruple the number of calories I normally would. Knowing full well that there likely would be scale ramifications, water retention and general bitchiness about the inevitable bloated abdomen. And I would live with it all. I'd accept the consequences and move on. Because I know now that I CAN stop eating. I don't have to start down a path and keep going.

Today, it's back to normal.

Is it healthy to let myself binge? Probably not. I'm sure it's still part of my screwed up addictive behavior that gets me to that point. At least I know what I'm doing and am willing to take responsibility. That's a change.

Nuts.

I just ate half of a jar of Skippy reduced-fat chunky peanut butter. It tasted horrible, but it was in front of me.

That's over 1200 calories. One sitting. This is why I used to weigh over 300 pounds.

The other half went into the garbage.

Self-fulfilling prophecy

My horoscope, courtesy of The New York Post and Sally Brompton:

August 28, 2007 -- When the going gets tough, the tough get going - that's what they say and if you have ever wondered how tough you really are you will find out over the next 24 hours. Whatever challenges you may be confronted with always believe you have what it takes to overcome them, and you will - with surprising ease.

I'd rather not deal with any extra challenges today. But at least this is somewhat encouraging.

Maybe my 24 hours really started yesterday at 4:30 when I hit the elliptical and posted my best-ever time for 2 miles. I had an awesome workout yesterday. I can't believe I let myself sweat...and even kind of like it. That is so ungirly of me.

2 Years Ago Today...

I had my guts rearranged. The night before, I had Rose take this picture. I've never shown anyone because I think I look so hideously bloated and miserable...and that's after losing 17 pounds in two weeks on a liquid diet.

I could write about all the things most people do in their "re-birthday" posts, but you can go back and check out my archives for the painful, funny, honest, stupid, pitiful, insightful thoughts I've had about that day and all of them since. Suffice it to say, I AM a different person...but not really. It all depends. On everything.

Now don't laugh. Just tell me I'm beautiful, ok?

Same glasses in both pictures...why I never wore glasses before.

Lab Rat

I saw my surgeon for my 2-year post-op visit. All my labs looked pretty good. My protein indicators were a little low, although I average 80gm of protein a day. And while my calcium was ok, my vitamin D was low. The doc recommended more calcium with Vitamin D...and more sun!

If you're a numbers kind of person, take a look. (I have no idea what all these things are.) If you're a medical professional and you see that I'm dying, please let me know. And if you're pre-op and wondering what a healthy post-op looks like, indulge...

PTH, intact: 44.3 (normal)
Total Vitamin D: 26 (20-100 normal)
Iron: 169 (28-170 normal)
B12: 329 (180-914 normal)
Ferritin: 5 (11-307 normal)

From the comprehensive metabolic panel:
Glucose: 86 (74-99) FASTING
BUN: 11 (8-20)
Creat: .7 (.4-1)
NA: 138 (136-144)
K:3.9 (3.6-5.1)
C1: 104 (99-109)
CO2: 30 (22-32)
Calc: 8.9 (8.9-10.3)
ALKP: 30 (38-126)
T Bili: .6 (.4-2.0)
AST: 31 (15-41)
ALT: 33 (14-54)
Alb: 3.5 (3.5 - 4.8)
TP: 6.2 (6.1-7.9)

Lipid Panel:
Chol: 123 (<200)
Trig: 64 (<150)
HDL:45 (45-80)
LDL-C: 65 (<130)
CHOL/HD: 2.7 (3.2-4.8)

My bone density scan had me on the very bottom of normal, pushing osteopenia. But that could be just as much hereditary as dietary. My mom has had abnormally low bone density, too, and her doctor recommended I start regualr scans at 40--even before I had surgery.

So there you have it. I'm relatively normal after 24 months of forced malabsorption. Last year in the office, I weighed 176.8. This year they weighed me at 172.2...the exact same thing my scale at home weighed. Yes, I know I say it's 169 at the right, but it's my blog and I can lie if I want to.)

Also both the nurse and the doctor confirmed that my pouchy stomach may very well be the result of tightening abdomimal muscles...and that my weight increase of a few pounds is likely from muscle gain. That was a relief.

I'll have to meet with the nutritionist next week to work on the calcium and to make sure that I'm in in a way to maximize my protein absorption. Other than that, it's on to the plastic surgeon's office with one year of weight-loss maintenance under my shrinking belt.

Shopping: semi-finals

Shopping was fun, but not really. We pored the kid into 26W she SWORE that they weren't too tight, but they looked like they were. I made her sit down to show me that she wasn't going to severe any part of her anatomy when she bent at the waist. She passed that test. And because it was her money and she's 13 and I'm only the shopping mom, not the real mom, I let her get them.

I did mention, gently, that they looked tight. And I explained how amazed I always was when one day my clothes feel great and the next day they don't and how 5 pounds make a huge difference. Lesson stated minus the preachiness...I hope.

No luck with the polos. Another shopping trip on Thursday.

She really did have no idea of what size she was. She'd reach for a men's XL and say they run small. She'd grab a size 18 and say that they don't make pants very stretchy. At one point, I simply said, "That's not the size you wear. You're bigger than that." I would have killed myself if someone said that to me when I was 13. But what else was I supposed to do?

A few more trips down the aisles and a couple of more pulls from the wrong sizes later, I told her "These are not your sizes. We need to go back to that other area. You can buy clothes that are tight or don't quite fit, but I think you'll be wasting your money."

Now that she understood. When the focus was put on money, not size, it was easier to steer her to where she needed to look. Whatever it takes, right?

Thanks for the replies and emails to my last post. They may not help the kid, but they help me.

This situation has dug up some former fatty guilt for me...something I haven't really felt in a while. I feel kind of two-faced in this situation. Survivor's guilt.

13 years old and F-A-T

I got a phone call last night from the 13-year-old girl that I mentor. She asked if we were still going school shopping tonight. I had told her last week that I'd take her to buy underwear. I confirmed. And then she put her mom on the phone.

It seems that they've already been shopping for the required school uniform: khakis and white or burgundy polo shirts. On a limited budget with a less than reliable vehicle, the family doesn't have many options for shopping. Wal-Mart. Family Dollar. Resale shops. And to make it even more difficult, my kid is super morbidly obese. Last winter when I bought jeans from The Avenue for her, they were a size 30W. And I'm pretty sure she's gained weight since then.

Her mom said that they found men's polos for her at Wal-Mart...but they were too small. Did I have any ideas? Sure. But her mom wouldn't want to hear them. Ideas like...why do you LET her spend her money on potato chips? Why do you LET her have three helpings of mashed potatoes? Why do you LET her drink regular soda?

I know, I know. I am not a parent. But I was a fat kid. And I give my mom credit for trying to steer me in the right nutritional direction. She didn't buy crap. We didn't live in the ghetto, but my parents struggled on a laborer's income for a family of 5. There wasn't a lot of money. And when there was, it didn't go to junk food.

My eating problems were because I came up with my own ways to eat through adolescence. And I had to work hard at coming up with food for my fixes. (A great big apology to the Ashbeck family for all the Twix candy bars I ate when I babysat every Sunday night. Sorry about those Twinkies, too.)

My kid is 13, weighs over 275 pounds and stands only 5'2". When she went to the fair last week, they wouldn't let her on the midway rides. I don't think she even gets how big she is. I know she didn't understand why she couldn't ride the fast rides. Sweetie, the bar wouldn't close. It sucks, I know, to be 13 and want to be like the other kids. And you're not.

So what's my responsibility? Can I make a difference? I see her for four hours every week. When she's with me, we try to eat healthier foods and make sensible choices. I've talked about being the fat person in a crowd. Maybe I need to show her my fat high school pictures and tell her the horror stories of humiliation. Can I scare her into changing?

And what do I do about her mother? I know it must be difficult to feed a household of 13 people on food stamps, WIC and limited income. But how about buying 4 pounds of bananas for $2 instead of a bag of Cheetos for $3? How about no more sugar drinks?

I just see the writing on the wall for my kid. It ain't pretty. I feel so helpless.

Next step: 8/30/07

What a crappy week it was. I really had some serious body image issues going on last week. Major issues. Enough to make me want to slice off the extra skin myself. And that, I hear, isn't recommended.

So I called and set up an initial consultation with a local plastic surgeon. My goal is to have reconstructive surgery next spring so that it fits into my work schedule and avoids the busy season. If I can last that long.

I'm going to try to avoid all the disgusting aspects of why I need this surgery. And don't come back looking for pictures of my rotting pannus, dripping boobs or flapping arms. Ain't gonna happen. Suffice it to say, none of it is pretty.

And now it's all becoming more painful. I suffered through much of the weekend with excruciating back pain. I think it's because my planks and Russian twists in my workouts are stressing out the muscles when they swing the skin back and forth. I'll revisit that with the trainer tonight.

Anyway...I at least feel better knowing I've taken a step in the next direction.

My new motivation

I actually found a way to almost enjoy my cardio workouts. I was getting SO bored on the elliptical. I did a search and found this site, FitPod. I love it!

The downloads are FREE for the weekly workout mixes and you can get more free tracks when you join.

Yesterday, I breezed through my cardio and it was more challenging (and interesting) to pace myself to the beat of the music.

Flabby

So I've been working out with a personal trainer since May. I know that I have better stamina. I know that I have a stronger body.

And I feel flabbier than ever. While I can see muscle definition in my legs and arms, I see NOTHING in my torso...except hanging skin. I KNOW my abs are stronger, my obliques tighter. But I'm growing a pouch of skin at my mid torso that was never there before and my pannus is hanging lower than ever.

I ams SO uncomfortable in my own skin. I really NEED for there to be some kind of physical evidence of my hard work. With WLS, it was there when another pound dropped and the clothing sizes started to shrink. With this, my clothes actually feel tighter...even though I am exactly the same weight I was when I started working out.

Could it be that my muscles ARE tightening...but they're pulling the loose skin to the front? When I lift up my skin and stretch it away from the center of my torso (imagine silly putty with the texture of cottage cheese), I can see my muscles expand and contract in my lower and upper abs. It's the friggin' skin that hides it.

I'm really unhappy. I really am down on my body. I feel like I look worse than I did a year ago. Shit.

Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow?

Yesterday was ok. Food wasn't out of control. I ate well throughout the day with calories coming in just over 1500. A high day. Mostly because I had cheese, which also pushed my fat intake up. But my protein was at 100 gm. Since I also did a 45 minute workout with cardio, I'm not too worried about that calorie count.

This morning I got on the scale and the numbers are coming down. Not where I think they should be, but not as high as they were. I know the scale shouldn't dictate my life. And really, it doesn't. It just works as a jarring reminder that I need to be vigilant.

I admire the people who live without a scale. And I wish I was the kind of person who could just walk away from food. But I can't. I'm obsessed with it now at 170 pounds just like I was at 317. Only now I worry about eating the right kinds of foods in the right amounts instead of which drive-thru I'm going to hit next. And I am still prone to consuming mindlessly, stuffing calories--good or bad--into my mouth without thought, only emotion.

As I move into another year out from my RNY, I worry about becoming a statistic...one of those people who gain back 20% or more of there body weight. I am so uncomfortable in my own skin when I put on even 4 pounds, what would I do with an extra 35 or 40?

And it's not just the WLS statistic that scares me. It's that any diet or eating modification plan is apt to fail. Do I have what it takes, inside of me right now, to be one of those long-term losers? And if I don't, how do I get it?

Seriously, I would do anything NOT to be fatter again. My quality of life has improved a gazillion percent and every incremental loss has made a difference in my health and my mobility. How bad to do I want it? Ihope, I really hope, I want it bad enough.

Details, Details.

I won't bore you with the details again. But I did track my food on fitday.com again. And I'm 1346 calories and 93 grams of protein for the day, but I puked up about 60 calories worth of NF, SF frozen strawberry yogurt. (Blue Bunny, the best...except tonight.)

My closest brush with crack was 17 Gensoy soy crisps (consumed in 2 sittings). But I stopped and went no further. I am ending the day with a glass of wine. Why do I feel like I need to say that? Focus, Jen. FOCUS.

My caloric intake for my BMR is a little over 1500. I'm doing well. I should lose. Damnit, I should.

What goes in MUST come out

Time for some accountability.

In my mouth...
1 Body Protein Shake (40 gm protein)
4 shots espresso
6 oz. coffee
1 cup sliced cucumber with 2 tbsp. FF sour cream, seasonings
1/2 cup blueberries
1 bison meat stick (low fat and yum)
4 Coffee Rio candies
16 oz. SF pink lemonade
Another 6 oz. coffee
Another 32 oz. of pink lemonade
Another bison meat stick
Stir-fry veggies
Some chicken thing, about 3 oz.
12 red, seedless grapes
An elk jerky stick

Overall, I've had about 110 gm of protein and 80 carbs. That's a higher carb total than I expected, it's been from fruits and veggies...nothing processed. Not bad.

Issues, revisited

Long day yesterday. Really long.

I managed to follow a realistic food plan...even when we went out for dinner last night. No sneaking spoonfuls of peanut butter or nibbling on crap during the day. Good amount of protein.

I had a workout session last night. This was the second day in my new plan. I had asked to focus on specific body areas that I want to either prepare for plastic surgery or just build up a bit. Monday was legs. Wednesday was upper body. Every day is a core day. I'm amazed at how much my endurance has improved since the end of May. I can hold the plank position for 45 seconds. I can do a mile on the elliptical in 9 minutes (this coming from the girl who couldn't last more than a minute when I started). I'm liking it.

Thanks Tel for your kind reply to yesterday's post. You are the sweetest thing east of the Mississippi! (Some day I WILL show you my boobs.)

Today's issues

1. My "today" started at 2 a.m. when I woke up raging hot with a headache and annoying leg pains. It's now a few minutes before 5 a.m. And this day won't end for at least another 14 hours. I don't know if I can handle it.

2. I have been eating with abandon and I'm afraid that I'm going to pack on the pounds. I make poor choices and then punish myself by eating in the opposite extreme. I can't find balance and it's scary to me.

3. What if I really do drink too much? And how do I tell?

Wisconsin State Fair on a Stick

It's that time of the year...blue ribbons, beer and cream puffs. I'm talking about the Wisconsin State Fair. If you're not a Midwesterner, you probably don't have a clue or don't care about state fair. And neither, really, do I. Except for the food, of course.

My formerly fat self lived for the days of fair gorging where everything is served deep fried and on a stick. This was my first visit post-op. All the food looked good...but taste is another story.

Mid day, I decided to eat something...but what? The options are limitless...from roasted corn on the cob to ostrich burgers to deep fried cheese curds. But I opted for traditional fare: a corn dog.

The first bite was heavenly. Dipped in ketchup, the breading was crunchy and the beefy dog juicy. The second bite was just as good as the first. The third bite started to turn my stomach. The fourth bite never happened because I gave the corn dog to someone else to finish. Thank god I didn't waste the money on a footlong one!

It wouldn't be the Wisconsin State Fair without cream puffs. They have some crazy production line that lets them churn out a bazillion pastries every day. The line to buy the cream puffs looks formidably long, but the expediters keep it moving and in minutes you'll find yourself at the front, forking out big bucks, covered in powdered sugar and ready to feast.

I was looking forward to one of these babies. In fact, I had psyched myself to eat an entire cream puff. It's all cream and light pastry. It should fit, right? Ah, not so fast there, altered one. I scooped the cream with the top pastry, savoring the sweet coolness. I grasped the base pastry piled high with cream and bit in, cream oozing over my lips and out the sides of my mouth. It was heaven. But there wasn't room in the pouch for all things divine. I ended up giving most of the puff to my dad. This was the moment when I wished I had a full-sized stomach.

And that was it for food! I did sample about 8 different wines in the wine-tasting building. Cheap buzz. Some surprisingly good wines. Oh, I did buy some ostrich and some elk meat sticks. I know that sounds gross, but they are very low fat and ramped with protein. And since that was the only thing in the Wisconsin products pavillion I could eat and I was feeling left out and willing to support the state economy in way other than taxation, I bought them.

We've got tickets for another day. The fair doesn't end until the 12th. I've had my fill of food. I'm going back for the music. And the wine.

On Wisconsin!

I could be killing myself

And I don't mean to. My brother Mark introduced me to Hard Lemonade from Sand Creek Brewery. It's a fruit beer that is DE-LISH-US. I love the taste, the fizz, the slight buzz. But I've also been having some really bizarre episodes...like the dumping one I wrote about earlier in the month. That happened again this weekend.

So I did a little searching. And while I can't come up with exact nutrition facts for this particular hard lemonade, I did find some for Mike's Hard Lemonade. That has more than 30g of sugar in a 12 ounce bottle. Good god, that could kill me! And I've been drinking two or more bottles!

I have to have my blood work done for my follow up. Not only will it show that I'm still intoxicated, it will probably show that I'm spiking blood sugar. I only hope my A1C is AOK.

I wrote to Sand Creek to see if they'll divulge nutritional info, but I'm not holding my breath. In the meantime, I'm laying off the lemonade liquor. I don't particularly relish the dumping. It just tastes so damn good going down!

UPDATE
I AM killing myself! I got a really quick reply from the general manager and co-owner of Sand Creek Brewing. According to his information and my calculations, each bottle has about 32 grams of sugar carbs. That's more than I consume in most days...all in ONE sitting. No wonder I'm sick to my stomach and out of my mind when I drink two or three. I'm lucky I'm not comatose.

Now, this doesn't change how much I LOVE this drink. And anyone who doesn't have sugar intolerances should DRINK UP. But those of you who do, consume with caution. Sip. Savor. Have a protein shake nearby for when the shakes start.

8 Obscure Things @ Me (Because Beth SUX)

Damn her, Melting Mama!

I've been tagged and forced to tell you 8 obscure things about me. Don't laugh. You're next.

The Rules:
1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged write their own blog post about their eight things and include these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged and that they should read your blog.
5. 8 is a magic number. Not three.

Here goes...more than you really want to or need to know about me:

1. I stopped going to high school my senior year. I graduated, but I didn't finish my last quarter because I was screwed up, tormented and ready to off myself. So they let me graduate without finishing. And I still went to college.

2. While in college, I worked summers for various temp agencies and my best job was sniffing polluted air to give feedback on the smell of toxins. 'Splains a lot, doesn't it?

3. I cry at parades.

4. I knew my great-great grandmother, who died when I was 10. I called her Little Grandma and she knit me a red cape and gave me oranges. She was among the two great-grandmothers, great-grandfather, two grandmothers and two grandfathers I've had relationships with. None of them died until after Little Grandma. And I still have a grandmother (80) and grandfather (87) living.

5. I used to poop in the bath tab when I was a kid. But I haven't done that for a couple years now.

6. The one thing that will keep me awake at night is worrying about finances when something doesn't "add up"...like when I'm getting ripped off by a company...blamed for someone else's bad credit...screwed by late charges, etc. I think about it at the expense of all else. It will ruin my day. It will make me unapproachable by anyone. Once it's resolved, I become human again. And I am relentless until it is resolved.

7. I was briefly engaged to a guy when I was 19. He beat me up. I dumped his ass, got him sent back to jail on a progbation violation and turned gay. (Ok, so maybe I didn't turn gay because of him, but it sure helped me make up my mind.)

8. I like to pick my toe nails and study them before I throw them away.

Whew...that wasn't so much fun. I'm passing the baton to: TEL, LINS, DANYELE, RICHARD, MICHELLE, KAREN, TWEETER, WONDER WENDY. Get to it!

Protein push

Kettle corn is appropriate for a protein fast, right? Right? It was only one bag. And not really the WHOLE bag. I didn't touch the last inch at the bottom.

Blah, blah, blah

Starting to feel better. I did take Danyele's advice and sucked on protein yesterday. No starchy carbs.

I have some loose ends from the trip to tie up...like the claim form with British Airways for the extra two nights in England, the food, the transportation. It looks like most of my overseas purchases have cleared--and I'm not as poor as I thought I'd be. But damn, that exchange rate between the dollar and euro SUCKS. Don't even get me started on the pound.

I also need to schedule lab work. I have my 2-year appt. with my bariatriac surgeon in a couple weeks. His follow up program requires annual visits to see him, the nutritionist, doing lab work, getting a bone density scan. I'm curious to see the results of that. Maybe I have the bones of an 80-year-old woman.