Chubby Commuter

Fatty, fatty, two by four, couldn't get through the bathroom door.

Okay, so I never really heard this when I was heavy.  Not literally.  I am, however, surprised by the subtle ways I was discriminated against when I was heavy.  I didn’t fully appreciate it until I got on a BART train headed for my new job downtown at over 100 pounds thinner than I was the last time.

It is physically much easier to sit on the seats in BART, and I don’t have to worry about sitting next to someone as large as I was.  What really caught me off guard was how people aren’t hesitant to sit next to me.  When they do, our hips don’t touch, which is a huge personal relief.  I don’t feel the barely concealed sneers and judgments I used to feel.  Men look at me.  I suppose if I found that important, I’d be happy about it.  Now, it just feels like a weird sociological measuring device that I could easily do without.  I surprised myself most recently by hiking up BART stairs because of escalator repair and not having to rest at the top.

I was at my heaviest when we lived in Connecticut between 2006 and 2008.  I got up to 340 pounds, and back then I applied and interviewed for more than four good jobs in New York City, which is where you had to go to get decent pay.  I came very close on several of them.  Leslie is convinced my weight was a barrier, a thought I didn’t want to consider too seriously then for obvious reasons. Beyond that, had I been hired, my weight would have made commuting to the city extremely difficult. 

I’m convinced I wouldn’t have this job if I was heavy.  My client contact is a nice enough guy, but he is nervous, too.  He’s the kind of fellow who would be uncomfortable with a very heavy woman no matter how experienced she was.  In my interview, it took him less than five minutes to announce he loved me, a decision he made based on first impression. 

If I was fat?

I am working very hard to get used to working full time again.  I’m tired much of the time.  How much harder would this be if I was heavy?

Sure, it’s a person’s right to be fat. I felt that way when I was.  But back then I didn’t feel I had a choice.  Having a choice, and making a decision toward better health has made a positive impact in my life. 

I see that quite clearly.

Fatigue: Going with it

I’m in the midst of “the hump” as I’ve written previously. This is the weird low energy, even fatigued time that occurs after surgery and before a healed stomach can handle proteins. Confused, the body thinks it’s starving and cycles down to conserve energy.  It’s supposed to be approximately one month post-surgery for the body to figure out what’s happening. I'm beginning my third week post surgery.

I feel like I did when I was pregnant. Really. When pregnant, the body is working so hard it’s the equivalent of climbing a mountain 24/7.  So feeling exhausted is normal, particularly in the first trimester. Now, I am absolutely exhausted 2 or 3 days out of the week and can nap like it’s the end of the world.

My appetite increases gradually, and I’m able to keep more down successfully.  I’ve had good luck with bran cereal, Leslie’s custard (heavenly and nutrient packed), and of course her chicken soup (ditto).  Fails include pastina (too rich) and cream of wheat (despite initial success). There are foods that look and smell divine, yet I dare not eat them because I know what the result will be. However, I’m able to eat more in a sitting. I mean the difference between ¼ cup over a week ago and creeping closer to the 1 ½ cup I’m suppose to consume in one meal. So, I should restrict myself to the prescribed three square meals with no snacks soon.

Here I sit pooped, but not entirely guilt free. Thank heaven I’m not working. Having to get up early and push myself through a day of Corporate clowns would be exceedingly difficult.  I feel extremely fortunate to be in this place and enjoy where I am, while it lasts, knowing it’ll probably be years before I get another chance to rest like this.

So for now … I’m going with it.

Post-Surgery Preamble

I’m home from surgery already.  I can’t believe how quickly time marches by, but it does. It marches on and on and then you turn and look back to see what you’ve done.  Over six months ago, I was at a New Year’s Eve party thinking over the tiniest possibility of having the gastric sleeve, and now here I am.  I just had one.

But it wasn’t all easy.

As when Leslie had her knee replacement, there are some things they just don’t tell you going into this sort of procedure.  Parts of it were really difficult.

Here are some of the highlights, as I experienced them:

• As usual, it was difficult to find any vein to use for an I.V.  This time the anesthesiologist herself did it. I have veins like my grandmother (RIP), and after taking no liquids for over 6 hours as pre-surgery prep, they were thoroughly and effectively in hiding.
• When I first woke up in recovery, it hurt.  It really hurt.
• The first time I tried to swallow something, anything, even the tiniest sip, I erp’d it back up.  And because my stomach was much, much smaller, fortunately that experience has become much, much easier.
• When I finally could swallow something, I could feel that tiny bit plop into my stomach like a small ball of flame. They call it a belly blast. Luckily, the sensation went away after a day.
• I’m not a fan of morphine. It’s a good medicine, but it gave me really awful dreams about people I love. Gross. I couldn’t wait to get off it.
• I’ve lost almost ten pounds being in the hospital, putting me below 300 pounds for the first time in years. Yay! This is a benchmark for me!
• The nurses in the hospital at Mills Peninsula, with one notable exception (there’s always one), were great.  Given they are in the middle of a strike, I felt like I was in good hands the entire time I was there.
• When I was released, I was ready to go. No sooner.
• Last night, the third night after surgery, I was hungry. Sucking on a piece of watermelon was heaven.
• I’m supposed to drink lots of water and a protein supplement called Isopure. It tastes like a very light juice, and at $11.00 for a six-pack, it’s good stuff. 
• For dinner last night, Leslie made me a heavenly consomme’.  Six teaspoons was all I could handle.
• This morning for breakfast we dined on cream of wheat, and it was divine. I had eight teaspoons this time!
• My total weight loss is twenty seven pounds.

The irony in all this is that prior to my procedure, my stomach was the center of my life. It still is, but in a totally different way.

OPEN A NEW WINDOW

This is the fourth in a series of blogposts about my upcoming weight loss surgery.  The first is here.

"Open a new window,
Open a new door,
Travel a new highway,
That's never been tried before;
Before you find you're a dull fellow,
Punching the same clock,
Walking the same tight rope
As everyone on the block."

These are the lyrics from “Open a New Window”, a song in the American Musical Comedy, “Mame”. It’s one of my favorites, and it's timely and personal.

The full moon, any full moon really, has personal significance, as well.  They tend to move things along for me.  For example, when I was pregnant with our daughter, Elizabeth, she was overdue; and I sat in the lounge chair in our living room for an extra two weeks waiting for her to join us.  The full moon on her birthday prompted her arrival.  So, while it was no surprise that I got feedback on my surgery the day after the last full moon, it certainly was a relief.  I waited three weeks with worst case scenarios twirling about my head, but I got a full approval. No catch, no delay, and I was thrilled!  Like pregnancy, the waiting made it all the sweeter.

Now, I have a series of pre-surgery appointments between now and my date, which is June 26.  There is registration, paperwork, a medical appointment, and probably more blood work.  I have to learn what kind of sustenance I can take in afterward.  I anticipate a liquid diet, followed by soft foods, and then an Atkins like diet of protein, veggies and fruit, absolutely no refined carbs, and very little fat in teeny weeny portions.

All technicalities aside, I feel new windows of opportunity opening before me. 

And these are followed by an understanding of how my weight has inhibited me. 

There is no doubt the last job I had did a number on my professional confidence. I’ve written enough on the subject, so I’ll forego the details.  I’ve been on two face-to-face interviews over the last year despite applying to between five and seven open positions per week.  The last was in an insurance office. I arrived to discover a full flight and a half of stairs, climbed them, and at the top bumped right into the man I was to meet just as I felt I’d choke up a lung.  Great impression.  My procedure will change that in time.

Over the last four years, I’ve considered a career in real estate, but I’d run into lots of stairs there, too.  My procedure makes Real Estate a greater possibility.

How about exercise and activities like hiking? Wouldn’t it be great to hike with my Austrian friend and actually be able to keep up with her? I’ve never attempted it previously, but soon it will be possible.

I grew up doing children’s and community theater, and I’d love to sing again.  I’d love to get back on stage in a musical comedy, and one day take on a favorite role like Mame Dennis or Mama Rose.  I love to tap dance more than almost anything.  Do I dare let all the dance routines I have committed to memory out into my feet again?  Maybe I’ll teach in that adorable little dance studio at the Pacifica Community Center.    

I have other goals, as well, and these won’t go away. I still want to write my novel, do my art, and spend precious time with my family.  Of course, there's no guarantee I will do these things, or the things I've mentioned above ... but no matter because the possibility is there.  

The last time I was thin and in shape, I was in high school.  As occupied as I was with family problems, I was too upset to appreciate it.  This time, I will be fully aware of my health and happiness.

I will be present in myself completely and totally … and I will rejoice.

A new window is opening.

Watch me tap dance through it.

Releasing the Past: A Note to My Parents

This post is the third in a series of posts about my upcoming weight loss surgery.  You can read the first post at http://sapphokinesis.blogspot.com/2012/05/positive-change-all-around-is-good.html and the second at http://sapphokinesis.blogspot.com/2012/05/positive-change-all-around-is-good.html.

I’ve spent the day at my worktable making greeting cards and pondering what I’m poised to let go. My weight loss surgery has become symbolic of all I wish to release.  I release this burdensome layer of flesh because I no longer need to feel protected by it.  I release all the bad habits that perpetuate my weight – all of them – even those I enjoy, because they no longer serve me well.  I release fear and whatever damage has been done to my confidence.  I do all this out of self-respect and love, and a desire to reach my potential in all things. In this, I am supported and nurtured by the people who love me.

A year ago this month my grandmother died, and just as I predicted, her passing ended the only thing that kept my extended maternal family together. When she died, all connected to her were cast to the wind like so many leaves. We tumble outward into the universe with no reason to speak to one another, so I find it ever so important to speak these words that need speaking before the opportunity is completely gone.  I had a frenemy who lost that chance when her parents died and, in her anguish, projected all her pain on me.  So, I know the urgency, and I know the danger of waiting, particularly if, like my Leslie, you're the type of person who must get things off her chest.

These words are long overdue.

To my mother ~ Unless there is something I don’t know, there is no excuse for your selfishness. I believe that growing up neglected, abused, or abandoned takes away the ability to be compassionate. Recognition of that and consciously reclaiming compassion often opens the door to healing because we realize we may inflict the same pain on those we love the most.  Yet this didn’t happen to you, did it? You weren’t abused, neglected or abandoned. You simply got married too young and had babies. Then, you decided you didn’t want them any longer and over the next10 years focused your energies on dumping your responsibilities on everyone else.  It is a mother’s responsibility to take care of her children.  I turned my back on you over four years ago because your behavior whittled away at our daughter’s self-esteem.  Now, I pity your concrete heart. But what’s more … Shame on you! Shame on you for moving in with Curtis, driving off his family, the only one he’s ever had, and exploiting his perceptions to your own advantage.  You tried it with me once, years ago, but Leslie got in your way.  Now, Curtis is too confused and needful of you to know how he was used, but you!  You should know better!

To my father ~ I feel your loss and know how much you yearn to connect.  However, your adult life and the decisions you’ve made revolve around the support of your ego and consequently your selfishness. Just before last Christmas, I opened my heart to you and shared my worries, and you reciprocated by withdrawing for seven months, acting the role of absentee father once again. You’ve done this my entire life.  You turned your back on your children to focus on your second wife and her family, and when you did, you surrendered the ability to make demands, to reclaim any connection because you need it in your latter years.  You come and you go, and you are always focused on what you want, completely unaware of what you put us through as you stomp all over my feelings to gain access to your only blood granddaughter. I don’t want this kind of negative interaction. I have self-respect and need and want more from my relationships. 

I’m a bit more than two years away from 50 years old, and as I release my weight, my bad habits, and my fear, I release the last attachments I have to relationships that are painful and damaging.  It is a sad thing, true, and some of you reading this may not understand it, but I stopped being upset and confused about it a very long time ago. Now, I am simply closing the door for good so I can move on with the wonderful changes that are ahead of me.

It’s ironic that in this, I’m exercising the one ability my parents gave to me.  Although I do so out of self-respect instead of selfishness, I exercise the right to walk away . I walk away from bad health, bad habits, and bad relationships. 

And I will not look back.

BUT WHY SURGERY?

This post is the second in a series about my weight loss surgery coming up.  You can read the first post at http://sapphokinesis.blogspot.com/2012/05/positive-change-all-around-is-good.html.

A year ago, I was reorganized out of my management position with an HR Management Consulting firm in downtown San Francisco.  Thereafter, I found myself using my body more than ever hauling things in and out of the garage for yard sales, selling my action figures at flea markets, and hawking my art at festivals.  These activities required more physical work than I’ve done in years.  It took the past year for my body to truly voice its displeasure.  Joint pain, knee problems, muscle spasms and on-going and increasing issues got louder and louder until finally, at almost 48 years old, I am unable to ignore them.

I was a large woman living a sedentary adult life which revolved around my career as an office manager or administrator and included a lot of staring at the computer.  Being heavy was annoying for as long as it took to walk from the BART train to the office.  That, and when I went clothes shopping. Ironically, I grew up dancing so was svelte and in shape as a young adult, but as the weight went on, I exercised less and less.  I had our daughter in 1997 and grew to my heaviest at that time. Then, I surpassed it, and at 43, I hit my heaviest at 340 pounds on this five foot four inch frame.  Just a month and a half ago I was 318.

Near as I can figure, somehow, somewhere along the way, I managed to hit the “off” switch to my body awareness and ignored the signs of this imbalance.  I knew I’d have to deal with my weight eventually.  I wanted to.  But I put it off repeatedly.  There was stress at work, stress at home, and a million other reasons to put aside making myself healthier.  I’d look in the mirror and focus on my face, and I avoided taking pictures for a very long time.  Time went on, and my poor practices became habits. 

Yet this cloud had a silver lining.  Being out of work, gave me the gift of time.  First, I decompressed. I tackled some things I’d wanted to do. Art things. Then, I slowed down and unraveled, put aside financial concerns and the drama that accompanies unemployment, and my stress slowly dissipated.

In this quiet, the universe began tossing messages at me.  Yes, I’d considered weight loss surgery some time ago, but I was afraid of it.  It seemed unapproachable.  Then, Leslie’s niece, Tami, had “the sleeve” done.  Leslie’s sister, too. They experienced different levels of success with their procedures. Despite some complications, Tami is down at least 100 pounds.  I bumped into a woman at one of our yard sales who was very happy she had it done.  And Lauren, one of the moms I’ve been scrapbooking with, has lost 100 pounds one year after her surgery, and she’s only a few weeks away from having her breasts reduced.

But why surgery? 

I’ve tried dieting. I’ve joined Weight Watchers twice over the last two years and lost and regained the same twenty pounds twice.   I’ve never been fond of the meetings, not unless the leader is very good at keeping it from becoming a bitch-fest, and even then I got tired of women piling heaps of self-loathing upon themselves for making mistakes.  I’m not heavy because I hate myself, and I didn’t attend Weight Watchers meetings because I need psychoanalysis.

I’ve never been able to make the shift to a healthier lifestyle because dieting completely overwhelms me.  I start with conviction, and then the day to day challenges kick in, and feeling overwhelmed with the struggle ahead, I end up caving in to my old habits.  I need a tool that will remain firm even when my willpower doesn’t.  I want to change my body’s chemistry so I can regain and maintain better eating habits for the rest of my life.

What I need is a complete reboot.

Now, we await word from the insurance company with an approval. Then, I get my surgery scheduled. In the meantime, I’ve stopped eating refined carbs and sugar, and am sticking with protein, veggies, and fruit.  I’ve lost 15 pounds doing so over the last month and a half, and I haven’t started walking yet.  I’ll do that when my body feels better.  Leslie’s lost almost 20 pounds eating the same way I am.  We know from experience that her body scars intensely, so bariatric surgery isn’t the answer for her.  She’s got so much more will power and even more won’t power than I do.  And, of course, we both have our daughter eye balling us like a hawk to ensure we don’t cheat even the tiniest bit.

We don’t want to disappoint her.

Positive Change is a Good Thing All Around

This is the first in a series of blogposts about my weight loss surgery. You can see the second post here http://sapphokinesis.blogspot.com/2012/05/but-why-surgery.html.

I’ve lost ten pounds in the last month incorporating the advice from my bariatric surgeon and the nutritionist I’m seeing.  The entire process is moving very quickly!  It took me longer to decide to have the surgery than it’s taken to get everything lined up. Now, I’m just waiting for the insurance approval before getting scheduled.  That seems ironic.

My first appointment with the bariatric surgeon was on March 30.  I was very nervous and experienced a week’s worth of drama and “deep thought” prior to going.  The doctor has a good bedside manner, however, and in spite of having to wait an extra hour for him to finish his rounds, the appointment was a good one. I felt better.  The real action started after I saw the nutritionist. She helped me understand some of the changes I had to make to get my metabolism working in the right direction and to get used to new eating habits. 

You see, this surgery isn’t a cure for morbid obesity.  It’s a tool.  Without the institution of new habits, better habits, the surgery itself will eventually be useless. 

I’ve elected to have “the gastric sleeve”, which is one of three recommended surgeries for obesity.  First, there is the usual gastric bypass, wherein the stomach is made smaller, and a portion of the small intestines are bypassed. So, you get less food in your stomach, and your body, particularly after surgery, doesn’t absorb all of what you’re eating.  The nutritionist today told me that eventually the body adjusts to this, so what you eat really does matter, particularly in the long run.  Second, there is the lap-band. You’ve probably seen this one on television. The doctor puts a band around the top part of your stomach, limiting how much your stomach can take.  Weight loss is very gradual because first you have to heel before the band can be tightened. That is done by slowly injecting silicone or something that makes the opening to the stomach smaller.  There’s actually a port right under the skin on your belly for that purpose (which kind of creeps me out).  The last one, “the sleeve”, is when the doctor actually removes the largest part of your stomach leaving a small “sleeve” or sort of thumb size pouch.  You can’t eat as much, not near as much before you are full, so what you eat REALLY matters if you’re going to get the right amount of nutrients.  The surgeon considers each of these a permanent procedure.  He’s going to do the procedure laparoscopically.  He’s an expert.  And he’s going to do it through my belly button (which also kinds of creeps me out).

I was able to make positive changes to my diet and consequently how I felt right away.  About two weeks before seeing the surgeon I did a food diary that blew my mind. I was eating whatever I wanted which amounted to lots and lots of carbs, and I felt like crap. But I was trapped by the carb loop, eating and being hungry shortly thereafter … eat and repeat.  Awareness of that helped me make change. I had to see it for myself.  So, after visiting the surgeon, I eliminated processed/refined carbs and sugar from my diet completely.  I lost four pounds.

When I visited the nutritionist next, I learned more good things.  I learned how important it is to eat at the table, that the body loves habits, and putting a placemat around meal time helps.  I also learned that eating in front of the television or computer is a very bad habit because it interferes with your brain’s ability to put food in the right place.  It also keeps you numb to your body’s signals.  I’m chewing my food to liquid and putting my fork down in between bites.  I learned about “trigger foods” or the foods to stay away from because habitually you go back again and again for more.  It is very important to eliminate snacks between meals, as well, because of the insulin and hormonal cycles around digestion.  When you eat, your body creates a surge of insulin.  Then during the next few hours, hormones kick in to properly digest.  When you eat all day or graze, you never give yourself a chance to properly digest!  Too much insulin!  And then you’re not supposed to eat right before bed because it messes up the sleep hormones.  I never knew any of this, not in a way that became personal, but boy it sure rang true to me.  Today, I weighed in at the nutritionist and have lost a total of 10 pounds creating new habits around food.

Leslie is totally on board with this, and in fact, she’s lost 16 pounds in a month and a half doing the same thing I’m doing. She won’t have the bariatric surgery, but she’s on the right track, and is in full support of us all making positive change to our eating habits.  Elizabeth is completely on board, as well, and has waited for us to make this change for a long time.  She’s very proud, and that feels great.

I think one of the biggest miracles in all of this is how eating around the table positively affects our family.  Elizabeth has been super busy with the drama club at school. She’s working the spot light for their musical, is in rehearsals most of the week, had Star testing, and is still jugging the homework and usual end of the year pressure.  But when we all sit around the table, she talks, we talk, and it’s like we all get grounded somehow. Then the rest of the evening is harmonious and pleasant. 

I can’t get over it.

This positive change is a good thing all around!