I posted cryptically two months ago about the insecurities about my weight that almost prevented me from reaching for my dreams. I can tell you all of those insecurities still exist but are a pale second to what I feel for my first love. He is far from perfect and yet, despite our unlikely origins, he is perfect for me. As happy as I am to have done something so adventuresome as hop a plane(s) to Cuba to take a chance with a virtual stranger, I am also sad at the thought of the long road ahead of us to ensure that I wake up the rest of my life at his side. We have the obvious issues of government and then a slew of personal dragons to slay before we can live out our happily ever after. I've got my game face on though and because nothing in my life has ever come easy, I will fight with everything I have to make this dream come true just like all the ones before.
Many have asked me to tell them all about my trip to Cuba, you know the forbidden one that I didn't go on. It was a difficult trip to explain because while I was excited to take my first trip outside of the United States and have my passport stamped "Mexico". This wasn't a trip to sight see. It was a trip to meet a friend and decide if the potential was there to become more. When he began to show signs of Chicken Pox my trip should have been ruined. In all honesty, we only saw the city for three days, the rest we spent inside with tons of Calamine lotion and sopa, praying for his comfort. As much as I did see of Havana I also did not. Those moments I cared for him though, just the two of us, in our little love shack, were more precious to me than any pictures of the Malecon or iconic statues around the city. The pictures of his joy with his family being together in one room are more valuable than any souvenirs that I did NOT bring back in fear of being arrested and/or fined. These moments, to me, are priceless.
He said we must know each other as friends first and I must say that never happened. Even now, it feels weird acknowledging him as only my boyfriend. My cousin said it best as he is my other half. He has made me believe in love, soul mates, destiny, and all that other romantic gibberish. We were introduced through his brother in law, my patient and from our first email things just shaped into something unusual. Our pasts, despite living in two very different countries and cultures were strangely similar, our struggles the same, our dreams matching, our personalities equally odd! Despite obvious language barriers and misunderstandings things continued to flourish into something special and real.
When we met it was after one of the worst travel days of my life but in his arms everything seemed right. I was racked with nerves at leaving my disabled mother and worried that those I trusted would forget what I had asked of them. I had no way to even ensure anything but once I put my hand in his, I let my worries ease and trusted that the time we had was only ours and well deserved. I don't like taking pictures because I miss the moments and the picture that cost them never mean as much to the people looking at them later as it does to you in the moment. This makes me a terrible photographer. I apologize for the lack of pictures of all the sights in Havana but each picture is my sights in Havana, the most glorious of sights and what I will keep close to my heart for all my life, whether we work out or not.
I wanted some travel guide description to perfectly describe Cuba and the city of Havana but words, fail me. I will say this: If I could write a song of Cuba it would be a colorful song full of twists and turns, highs and lows, fast and slow, happy and sad. It would simply be a song of Giraldo since in my eyes he is Cuba. I do not know all the words and the song may never be finished. Only time knows for sure.
There are broken buildings, broken cars, broken streets, and broken lives. To many this is what you would imagine a broken third world to be. The people of Cuba will prove you wrong though. They possess a gift, a secret that has no price so will never be bought or sold. They know the joy of living. Something lost in this world of mine. They know how to make everything beautiful, even the broken buildings, broken streets, and broken cars. I envy this because now that I have returned, leaving him and his magical city behind, I know the door has closed and I once again must live as I did before, allowing time and money to conquer all.
This place is not for every soul just as peace is not destined for every man but for my own heart I have found a corner of the world big enough to bring me the joy and serenity I have sought for so long but small enough to encourage me to reach for it and keep it close to my heart forever.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Weird
I had not realized it's been so long since I posted to my blog. It is strange to look back and read some of these. Particularly since some of my hopes are becoming reality and it is not what it seems.
I did a major life overhaul about the time of my last blog. I went back to school with a devilish determination to complete my education. I also decided that I did not want to work in medical/surgical/oncology any more. I posted my two week notice and did a huge dramatic post about a chapter closing in my life. I had no idea where that would take me.
Now here I am eight months later in complete awe of myself and only a wee bit ashamed. I have been working as a dialysis nurse for five months now in a leadership position. I am proud of that. I continue to struggle with the balance of being a kind person and people seeing me as a force to be reckoned with. The problem I have is that there is no middle ground. I am either reserved and passive (so I've been told) or a fiery bitch that is clearly in hormone overdrive (so I've also been told). I want to be taken seriously and be heard and I am wondering how to go about that transition. Only time will tell.
I also am 10 weeks away from FINALLY graduating with my BSN. It feels so great and despite much encouragement, I think this is the last I'll see of school on this side of 40. I have seen friends struggle too hard to manage family with education. It is something I admire but that I will never envy nor emulate. Life is waiting.
Which brings me to the biggest change in my life only I don't know if I should call it a change at all. I was introduced through pictures to a Cuban relative of one of my patients. It all began as a joke. When asked for what I want back from the trip I responded cigars. I am sure there was some racy commentary that I am ever thankful I could not interpret but the result was I exchanged pictures with a very handsome someone. We are apparently two goal oriented people and were practically engaged and having kids before we'd ever heard each other's voices. This was a huge painful mistake that resulted in misunderstandings and my self esteem being pummeled. I can say now that I was devastated by my own insecurity and this is my shame. I totally became one of those silly emotional girls. Only now after making him feel horrible, calling off my trip to Cuba indefinitely, and leaving us both in an awkward place where we have no idea how to go back am I realizing that all the insecurity that I thought was shed with the pounds is only hiding just below the surface waiting for the next opportunity to rear it's ugly head.
In short, he panicked, as did I to some extent. It started when we heard each other's voice the first time and we were both too shocked to speak to one another in Spanish or English. We laughed it off but deep down it made us both uneasy and reminded us of the long road we have ahead, if we even want to pave ahead. Instead of taking the time to absorb that information, I instead pressed on based off of assumptions and discussions with his family member. Then my schedule was changed and I was not going to see the family member anymore so my questions returned to him in full force, unaware of the sea of shock and anxiety swirling in his own brain. Now I don't fault myself for not knowing his thoughts I fault myself for not carefully reading his emails with an objective mind because after everything blew up in my face it became abundantly clear on review that he was trying to tell me something all along. Of course the same day I send him swimsuit pictures I also sent him an oblivious email tipping the scales into full on panic. His response was abrupt and hurtful even when reviewed in an impartial light, and certainly came out of nowhere to me but what really summoned the emotional beast was a crappy week of changes that us Scorpios will fight tooth and nail to prevent and the fact that the response immediately followed my swimsuit pictures.
So here we are now and I'm learning a few things about myself. One, a relationship is between two people and only those two people will truly understand. Friends and family have no place there, no matter how well their intentions. If I had listened to my protective masses, I would not be giving him a second chance and I probably would have never fully understood what really had happened but instead would have been left with the assumption that he did not/does not find me attractive, something he had to defend vehemently, again to my own great shame. I never realized I was so petty and insecure.
Two, and this was brought to my attention by a friend, I am immature when it comes to relationships. This was hard for me to accept because I am a person of such strong character that excels at what ever I have set my mind to. Alas, I am more damaged by my past than I was willing to accept. I pray that this does not come between us but I am hesitant to call this a done deal or water under the bridge for us just yet. This weekend, during our technologically designated hiatus from communicating (unless I want another dreadful incident) I will be doing some major soul searching and deconstructing so I can rebuild anew. To all my cheerleaders, I know you will tell me not to change a single thing and that I am perfect just the way I am but please refer to my first epiphany. I feel with everything that this person is the one to spend a lifetime with. I could be wrong, I will be hurt again and even yet again still but only time will tell with this. For now, all I know is, I will not be posing for any swim suit pics for the duration of the summer. LOL. I also realize Cuba is further than even Google Search could advise me.
Hopefully not as long as it used to be,
Fat Girl
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Lessons of 2012
I debated whether I would write a blog to draw a close to the end of an amazing year. I am still in debate even as I write it on how this will go so bare with me here. Ahh! Where to begin? What angle do I take?
I want to hold on to this moment forever and yet I know I can't. Many people will not agree with me and with a mix of trepidation and anxiety countdown these final days, hours, and minutes of an earth shattering year.
I witnessed the ugliest part of our society reveal itself and the years of false civility between races dissipate as a young man's, a baby really, much as my brother was, poor light snuffed out too quickly. I saw us split as many justified him being overtaken and killed simply because he LOOKED suspicious. I watched people rationalize that he deserved to die simply because he came from a questionable neighborhood and had a sullied school background. I watched these same people overlook similar behavior from a self appointed neighborhood watch captain who disrespected both my white and my black heritage. The whole time, all that kept playing in my mind is that a child had been gunned down, in the name of protection and defending personal safety and then sat as a John Doe for three days waiting to make it home. I had flash backs of Easter of 2002, when my brother showed up in pieces over the course of a week. I felt these parent's pain as they watched their child villanized and exploited. I finally had to resolve to tune it out or risk entering a great depression, praying that God allow peace to salve over our wounds and that no one, no matter how hateful, ever had the opportunity to feel the incredible pain Trayvon Martin/Jordan Davis/Jeffrey I. Gwyn Jr.'s family as well as countless others feel when not only did they snatch away the light of your life but to have your memories of your loved one raped and violated beyond repair.
I watched a social cause for children soldiers to be saved dissolve into media foolishness. I am saddened to see Joseph Kony and those like him are still alive to take breath and free. We could not hold America's attention long enough. It further destroys my faith when every nuance of media is employed from every angle in the finding and killing of Osama Bin Laden. To make it worst, his violent death and mysterious burial at sea was used as a ploy to pull votes in this, an election year.
Speaking of the election year, it became frightening. I tried to remain impartial to all going on but the rhetoric towards "dirty democrats", "blacks following like sheep", "more Americans sitting at home collecting checks than working", and "WE own this country" inspired me to take a stance as I'd never taken politically before. I didn't get into the mud slinging. While I shut off my friends posts at one time I eventually turned them back on. I still maintain an open mind at the polls and know at the end of the day it had nothing to do with Obama's lack luster first term, Romney's race or religious beliefs. It simply came down to one candidate being the lesser of two evils or rather the less radical of the two. I was standing in the middle of Adventure Land in Walt Disney World as I realized the world had not gone mad as per Facebook and the vast majority realized that at this critical juncture, as the youthful America grows into its adolescent our founding fathers may have been Puritanical White Men but that is as obscure a term and sighting as a Native American. No, this pubescent America with hormones sending us to a fever pitch at the slightest provocation is also a beautiful butterfly made up of a many different shapes and patterns, caught mid metamorphosis, our full potential not yet visualized or even imagined.
So much blood was shed, so many young lives loss at home and overseas. From a midnight showing in Aurora to the recent deaths at Newtown. School shootings, police, and firefighters losing their lives, and athletes taking their lives as well as others. It is insane and incomprehensible and yet every time as a cry goes up for better gun control you have Military and their wives crying out 2nd Amendment rights. What right did these children have? What about the movie theater full of victims just trying to see catch the end of a trilogy? What about all the poor people that suffer from mental health afflictions that are being made into monsters as we try to figure out what the rest of the civilized world did ages ago. Violence is always present from the moments of our birth until our cells seize up in our final breaths. We can't stop it no sooner than we can stop the world from turning, than I can prevent another year from donning, but we must, in order to evolve, attempt to maintain it and slow the process before all is lost. The biggest problem we have now is loss of respect for human life and desensitization to this violence. An almost willing acceptance of it all. I think a good start would be more specific gun control. I don't think military style assault rifles/weapons should be able to be purchased under a single license. I don't believe mass quantities of ammunition should be purchased to a single person or place in a post 9/11 world. I do believe we need a more thorough and universally enforced gun control policy on a federal and state level. Gun shows should be banned all together. I have gun enthusiast friends and I love them for flaunting their skills, particularly since most of them are females and mothers to boot. The reality of the situation goes like this. Technically, I would pass a background check, I have no mental illness. I do have a father who died by a gun and a brother who also took a bullet to the head and was dismembered. I am not crazy buy any stretch but I have the potential. I have demonstrated hostility to officers in the past, I work a stressful job where I was frequently threatened, and was raised in a single parent home along with a lot of other vague details I will spare you. The point is, because I am of sound mind and body, I chose not to make guns a part of my life for all of these reasons that could just as easily be ignored by another soul in similar circumstance. I don't imagine I am the only person who has lived such a violent life. I do find it hard to believe that all of us remain of sound mind and body or handle stress well. While it is my choice if I want to blow my own head off, I am leaning my weight towards making it hard to impossible for those with this type of background to harm others.
So, with all this in mind I'm sure everyone is asking, why again, wouldn't I too want this Godforsaken year to be over with already. For me, though the world turned to rubble, I found myself. It was amazing and my only regret to date was that I didn't find this beautiful young lady a decade ago. Of course the choice to have weight loss surgery is the most prominent change but also my courage in finding my voice. While I admit a talent for turning words, I have always been quiet about expressing my opinion, even afraid to admit that I had one as I watched the world go by. The anger built up from that combined with the inability to let go of the past and forgive myself became my poison. Manifesting in depression, binge eating, and fits rolling and detrimental anger as the world became more and more bleak. I will tell you I did not have an easy go at first and the pain almost consumed me. Getting the surgery approved alone would cost me sleepless nights, more binge eating, and frustration to the point of tears.
Just before the surgery I had decided to step out on faith and return to the fold of the church. It was not an easy task seeing as I worked weekends at the time but I had heard a sermon via the AM Radio that called to me and I found myself entranced by the pastor. I arranged to take that Sunday and the one just after surgery to meet the man in person. I tell you that my life was changed, my spirit was changed that first Sunday. People think it was the surgery and it does play a factor in my outward appearance but God is working on me. The message was "It may look like chaos but God is building a foundation". I cried the whole ceremony but when I walked out of that church I saw with new eyes. I wasn't nervous about the surgery anymore. Anger that I had been holding onto a life time I had to give away. It no longer fit into the image I had of myself. The sadness and tears I had cried for myself I had to dry and smile for all the blessings around me. I saw the people eager to betray me and those that truly admire and support me. I couldn't hold on to the hate though because God filled my heart with too much love. Love for strangers and friends, love for family, and love for myself. I have had many test since. The very minutes I sit here are tests, jobless, only a house note in the bank, and no immediate access to funds. I could be frightened right now. I could have had a miserable holiday. Even worst, I could still be faking it through a job that made me utterly miserable but in finding myself this year, I also found the God in me. I am still learning to listen to the voice inside and he is making a way out of no way.
So, instead of resolutions, in a much improved year, I leave you with lessons I've learned in 2012:
1) We so often say we love the Lord when we can't love ourselves and the other man. When we hold a grudge for the most simple of reasons. Whether you are Christian or otherwise, find your light, what brings you joy and share it with the world. What you put out there will come back if in no other way but make you feel like a better person living in a better world.
2) Forgive yourself and let go. Until you let go of the sandbags holding you down you can't take flight. There may be others in your life that have done you wrong and vengeance may seem like the answer but God will move those people just as he moves this world around the sun in a timeless circle. It doesn't mean you have to embrace that person once He moves them. Forgiving them simply means you are robbing them of the power over your thoughts and will.
3) Fear is our only true obstacle, regardless of what that fear may be. Be brave and beat it back. Let Faith in something be your sword and your dreams be your shield. Life will forever be a war waged but the fleeting joys are the sweetest victories for the perilous road ahead.
And one eternal prayer as we all take a deep breath and march into 2013:
Father, I am not perfect and though I reach for it I will never be. Give me the knowledge to accept that, the strength to forgive, and the courage to carry on even in the darkest of night. Father, shine your light down on me and allow me to in turn be that light for others. May you find rest for the weary, comfort for the sick, and love for those that feel alone and without a voice. God thank you for this life, the good days and the bad. Continue to reveal to me the lessons in every experience as I walk this road and continue to direct my path to fit Your will. In your name I find comfort and peace now and forever more,
Amen.
I want to hold on to this moment forever and yet I know I can't. Many people will not agree with me and with a mix of trepidation and anxiety countdown these final days, hours, and minutes of an earth shattering year.
I witnessed the ugliest part of our society reveal itself and the years of false civility between races dissipate as a young man's, a baby really, much as my brother was, poor light snuffed out too quickly. I saw us split as many justified him being overtaken and killed simply because he LOOKED suspicious. I watched people rationalize that he deserved to die simply because he came from a questionable neighborhood and had a sullied school background. I watched these same people overlook similar behavior from a self appointed neighborhood watch captain who disrespected both my white and my black heritage. The whole time, all that kept playing in my mind is that a child had been gunned down, in the name of protection and defending personal safety and then sat as a John Doe for three days waiting to make it home. I had flash backs of Easter of 2002, when my brother showed up in pieces over the course of a week. I felt these parent's pain as they watched their child villanized and exploited. I finally had to resolve to tune it out or risk entering a great depression, praying that God allow peace to salve over our wounds and that no one, no matter how hateful, ever had the opportunity to feel the incredible pain Trayvon Martin/Jordan Davis/Jeffrey I. Gwyn Jr.'s family as well as countless others feel when not only did they snatch away the light of your life but to have your memories of your loved one raped and violated beyond repair.
I watched a social cause for children soldiers to be saved dissolve into media foolishness. I am saddened to see Joseph Kony and those like him are still alive to take breath and free. We could not hold America's attention long enough. It further destroys my faith when every nuance of media is employed from every angle in the finding and killing of Osama Bin Laden. To make it worst, his violent death and mysterious burial at sea was used as a ploy to pull votes in this, an election year.
Speaking of the election year, it became frightening. I tried to remain impartial to all going on but the rhetoric towards "dirty democrats", "blacks following like sheep", "more Americans sitting at home collecting checks than working", and "WE own this country" inspired me to take a stance as I'd never taken politically before. I didn't get into the mud slinging. While I shut off my friends posts at one time I eventually turned them back on. I still maintain an open mind at the polls and know at the end of the day it had nothing to do with Obama's lack luster first term, Romney's race or religious beliefs. It simply came down to one candidate being the lesser of two evils or rather the less radical of the two. I was standing in the middle of Adventure Land in Walt Disney World as I realized the world had not gone mad as per Facebook and the vast majority realized that at this critical juncture, as the youthful America grows into its adolescent our founding fathers may have been Puritanical White Men but that is as obscure a term and sighting as a Native American. No, this pubescent America with hormones sending us to a fever pitch at the slightest provocation is also a beautiful butterfly made up of a many different shapes and patterns, caught mid metamorphosis, our full potential not yet visualized or even imagined.
So much blood was shed, so many young lives loss at home and overseas. From a midnight showing in Aurora to the recent deaths at Newtown. School shootings, police, and firefighters losing their lives, and athletes taking their lives as well as others. It is insane and incomprehensible and yet every time as a cry goes up for better gun control you have Military and their wives crying out 2nd Amendment rights. What right did these children have? What about the movie theater full of victims just trying to see catch the end of a trilogy? What about all the poor people that suffer from mental health afflictions that are being made into monsters as we try to figure out what the rest of the civilized world did ages ago. Violence is always present from the moments of our birth until our cells seize up in our final breaths. We can't stop it no sooner than we can stop the world from turning, than I can prevent another year from donning, but we must, in order to evolve, attempt to maintain it and slow the process before all is lost. The biggest problem we have now is loss of respect for human life and desensitization to this violence. An almost willing acceptance of it all. I think a good start would be more specific gun control. I don't think military style assault rifles/weapons should be able to be purchased under a single license. I don't believe mass quantities of ammunition should be purchased to a single person or place in a post 9/11 world. I do believe we need a more thorough and universally enforced gun control policy on a federal and state level. Gun shows should be banned all together. I have gun enthusiast friends and I love them for flaunting their skills, particularly since most of them are females and mothers to boot. The reality of the situation goes like this. Technically, I would pass a background check, I have no mental illness. I do have a father who died by a gun and a brother who also took a bullet to the head and was dismembered. I am not crazy buy any stretch but I have the potential. I have demonstrated hostility to officers in the past, I work a stressful job where I was frequently threatened, and was raised in a single parent home along with a lot of other vague details I will spare you. The point is, because I am of sound mind and body, I chose not to make guns a part of my life for all of these reasons that could just as easily be ignored by another soul in similar circumstance. I don't imagine I am the only person who has lived such a violent life. I do find it hard to believe that all of us remain of sound mind and body or handle stress well. While it is my choice if I want to blow my own head off, I am leaning my weight towards making it hard to impossible for those with this type of background to harm others.
So, with all this in mind I'm sure everyone is asking, why again, wouldn't I too want this Godforsaken year to be over with already. For me, though the world turned to rubble, I found myself. It was amazing and my only regret to date was that I didn't find this beautiful young lady a decade ago. Of course the choice to have weight loss surgery is the most prominent change but also my courage in finding my voice. While I admit a talent for turning words, I have always been quiet about expressing my opinion, even afraid to admit that I had one as I watched the world go by. The anger built up from that combined with the inability to let go of the past and forgive myself became my poison. Manifesting in depression, binge eating, and fits rolling and detrimental anger as the world became more and more bleak. I will tell you I did not have an easy go at first and the pain almost consumed me. Getting the surgery approved alone would cost me sleepless nights, more binge eating, and frustration to the point of tears.
Just before the surgery I had decided to step out on faith and return to the fold of the church. It was not an easy task seeing as I worked weekends at the time but I had heard a sermon via the AM Radio that called to me and I found myself entranced by the pastor. I arranged to take that Sunday and the one just after surgery to meet the man in person. I tell you that my life was changed, my spirit was changed that first Sunday. People think it was the surgery and it does play a factor in my outward appearance but God is working on me. The message was "It may look like chaos but God is building a foundation". I cried the whole ceremony but when I walked out of that church I saw with new eyes. I wasn't nervous about the surgery anymore. Anger that I had been holding onto a life time I had to give away. It no longer fit into the image I had of myself. The sadness and tears I had cried for myself I had to dry and smile for all the blessings around me. I saw the people eager to betray me and those that truly admire and support me. I couldn't hold on to the hate though because God filled my heart with too much love. Love for strangers and friends, love for family, and love for myself. I have had many test since. The very minutes I sit here are tests, jobless, only a house note in the bank, and no immediate access to funds. I could be frightened right now. I could have had a miserable holiday. Even worst, I could still be faking it through a job that made me utterly miserable but in finding myself this year, I also found the God in me. I am still learning to listen to the voice inside and he is making a way out of no way.
So, instead of resolutions, in a much improved year, I leave you with lessons I've learned in 2012:
1) We so often say we love the Lord when we can't love ourselves and the other man. When we hold a grudge for the most simple of reasons. Whether you are Christian or otherwise, find your light, what brings you joy and share it with the world. What you put out there will come back if in no other way but make you feel like a better person living in a better world.
2) Forgive yourself and let go. Until you let go of the sandbags holding you down you can't take flight. There may be others in your life that have done you wrong and vengeance may seem like the answer but God will move those people just as he moves this world around the sun in a timeless circle. It doesn't mean you have to embrace that person once He moves them. Forgiving them simply means you are robbing them of the power over your thoughts and will.
3) Fear is our only true obstacle, regardless of what that fear may be. Be brave and beat it back. Let Faith in something be your sword and your dreams be your shield. Life will forever be a war waged but the fleeting joys are the sweetest victories for the perilous road ahead.
And one eternal prayer as we all take a deep breath and march into 2013:
Father, I am not perfect and though I reach for it I will never be. Give me the knowledge to accept that, the strength to forgive, and the courage to carry on even in the darkest of night. Father, shine your light down on me and allow me to in turn be that light for others. May you find rest for the weary, comfort for the sick, and love for those that feel alone and without a voice. God thank you for this life, the good days and the bad. Continue to reveal to me the lessons in every experience as I walk this road and continue to direct my path to fit Your will. In your name I find comfort and peace now and forever more,
Amen.
Monday, December 24, 2012
Merry Christmas
So we survived the Mayan Apocalypse. The 21st was rather underwhelming. I also survived my final week of work which included a midnight showing of The Hobbit and back to back work days. I have went to one final Christmas party and skipped out on another which quickly became a national crisis. I have received multiple blessings in this holiday season and continue to pray for one more, a new job. Until then I am focusing on getting myself into college again and hopefully finishing up my Bachelors. We shall see. I'm taking it one day at a time.
I am 263lbs now, 114lbs and dropping. I am incorporating protein more doggedly so the weight loss has slowed again but so has my hair loss and the sizes continue to drop. I am working on sliding into a size 18. I now can wear a size 20. That is down from a size 28/30. Of course I want to be smaller but this is in only 7 months and I can't be sad or discouraged. My life has been completely changed!
I have had so many experiences and emotions raging throughout November and December and find it difficult now to articulate them so I'm making this a short post. I may or may not post New Years Resolutions. I just don't believe there should be an exact time to improve upon yourself and everyday we awake, from the brink of death, we have a chance to start something great in a commonly mediocre life. If you see an opportunity grab it. Even the mistakes are worth the effort we exert and experience we gain.
Happy Holidays and One Love,
Fat Girl
I am 263lbs now, 114lbs and dropping. I am incorporating protein more doggedly so the weight loss has slowed again but so has my hair loss and the sizes continue to drop. I am working on sliding into a size 18. I now can wear a size 20. That is down from a size 28/30. Of course I want to be smaller but this is in only 7 months and I can't be sad or discouraged. My life has been completely changed!
I have had so many experiences and emotions raging throughout November and December and find it difficult now to articulate them so I'm making this a short post. I may or may not post New Years Resolutions. I just don't believe there should be an exact time to improve upon yourself and everyday we awake, from the brink of death, we have a chance to start something great in a commonly mediocre life. If you see an opportunity grab it. Even the mistakes are worth the effort we exert and experience we gain.
Happy Holidays and One Love,
Fat Girl
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Christmas/Wish List
Just blowing off some steam tonight. No particular motivation or relevance. Just have been wanting to make a "bucket list" of sorts and hopefully this time next year I can look back on all I've crossed off. In five years I hope I'll need to write a new list ;-)
1. Specialty.
2. House.
3. A Child/Children.
4. Soul Mate.
5. Passport.
6. Trip to Ireland.
7. European cruise.
8. Publish a novel.
9. A will/living will.
10. No debt. (including student loans)
11. Lasik surgery.
12. Breast enhancement.
13. Trip to London.
14. Trip to Paris.
15. Cross country train ride.
16. A1A roadtrip.
17. Participate in one marathon.
18. Own/be an active partner in a small business.
19. Move out of Florida.
20. See Hawaii.
21. Reach/maintain a size 14.
1. Specialty.
2. House.
3. A Child/Children.
4. Soul Mate.
5. Passport.
6. Trip to Ireland.
7. European cruise.
8. Publish a novel.
9. A will/living will.
10. No debt. (including student loans)
11. Lasik surgery.
12. Breast enhancement.
13. Trip to London.
14. Trip to Paris.
15. Cross country train ride.
16. A1A roadtrip.
17. Participate in one marathon.
18. Own/be an active partner in a small business.
19. Move out of Florida.
20. See Hawaii.
21. Reach/maintain a size 14.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Tomato Soup, Walking, and Hair Loss
First off I would like to apologize for not posting at least once in October. I was not in a proper state of mind. For the entire month I lost a grand total of 9lbs and held at that weight or a pound variance for probably 3 weeks. Last week I did have a breakthrough, from sticking to my exercise regimen and my diet, not getting discouraged. My current weight is 278 and if you haven't been keeping track, that is 99lbs total. This has been a hard fought 11lbs down and I will continue to endeavor until I reach Onderland.
That leads me to the first topic, my diet. I know I have friends and family trying to help but you really aren't. If following advice of everyone led to weight loss I would be a svelt 99lb waif from all the advice I've taken in, listened to, or dismissed over the years. Please refer to previous posts if you are reading this and somehow know me without being aware, as the Lady Gaga song goes: I was born this way! Not to say I don't have love for all my cheerleaders, that will never change. I only mean to say that this is my journey and the one voice I haven't listened to in all these years is my own inner voice. This is the only voice I am ultimately listening to now. She knows me best after all ;-)
So what is my diet? My diet is everything/anything I want to eat. I can eat literally anything 6 months (-10 days) post op. That's what makes it challenging. It is up to me to make those choices on what is best. What is best for me, is not always what everyone agrees upon. By this, I mean, the tomato soup (see title). Prime example: I have either one of two reactions to seeing my lunch selection at work which is MOST often tomato soup and applesauce. I get someone wearing an appalled expression that this will be all I am eating for a 13 hour period with a shake of their head. Or I get the person warning me of how much sodium those canned soups have and they tell me to be careful with eating that all the time. Well fine friends, here are the facts: I don't cook, I never have because I don't like to, not because I can't. I take care of my mother full time. There is no other local family members that can or is willing to help. This means I'm not getting in the kitchen to prepare anything. A healthy alternative or the healthiest for me is to pick up a can of Campbell's Soup. If they have a Healthy Request brand then I choose that one. If not I get Classic Tomato or Creamy Tomato soup. The protein ranges from 3-5gm which is pitiful. The calorie count varies from 80-180 (Creamy is the highest). The fat is 5gm (8% of your daily total). Last the cholesterol is 5mg out of a daily 2000mg allowance and the Sodium a whopping 650mg which is over a quarter of your daily allowance, also 2000mg. I'm sure there is a Biggest Loser fan out there cringing in fright BUT it works for me. I have 30 minutes tops for lunch on a good day, in which time I check in with my mother and assure she has usually made it home safely from dialysis. I don't have time to get too fancy. If you look at the average heat and eat meal you will see that astounding 650 mg of sodium is actually pretty low compared and I'm not even going to talk about getting food from the cafeteria. I'll be lucky if I survive the day! It allows me to drink my lunch quickly and get back to work quicker. If I try to throw down something more complex it makes me nauseous immediately after until it settles and a case of bubble gut for the rest of the shift. While this sounds uncomfortable for me (which it is) imagine being the poor patient stuck in bed, trying to learn how to self administer an insulin shot while being distracted by a nurse who is hiccuping with a case of the BGs. NOT COOL! I think it's better for us all if I stick to my 240 calorie lunch for 3 out of 7 days a week. I hope in the future to find a more health conscious lunch choice along with more time to eat that lunch but in the mean time I think I'm not doing so bad.
The other thing I've always gotten tons of advice on is my exercise regimen (see previous posts). At the end of September I just decided to go with what I know and enjoy. That is walking and running. Now I am not run ready as of yet but I practice and I am getting there. At least 3 times a week I set aside time and I walk 4 miles. Some of those times I will walk with 3lb weights (x2) and I have a ball. I participated in a 2K walk and I am planning to attend more as my schedule changes. Now when I say I walk, I don't want you to think I am traipsing up my street at a leisurely pace. I go to Ed Austin Park on Monument Rd and McCormick, I put on my head phones and I haul ass, my wide flat ass. I walk at too fast a pace to carry a conversation and it is on alternating terrain and incline. Every week I try to adjust the speed and time I am sprinting to have a switch up on my body. It seems to have worked so far. This is my official "hmmph" to everyone that keeps trying to push me into things that are not me. I don't want to Zumbaa. It looks fun...for someone else. I failed miserably at it and while I may make another attempt someday, I won't be relying on it as an exercise regimen. I am not doing or promising to do anything I don't feel 100% comfortable with. I would only be lying to myself which would be the unhealthiest habit of all and lead no where good...for me. Hey, besides, walking clears my mind and I got a thumbs up from the closest person I can refer to as a walking partner, a man in his mid to late fifties (I am guessing) who in warm weather was always dressed as if he was going on Safari. I have dubbed him "Safari Man" (refer to 90s show Martin to get this joke).
I have also begun wearing size 22/24 clothes, which was what I was wearing my Senior year in highschool. This prompted me to pull out clothes I haven't seen in a while/were donated from a friend and it gave me a harsh revelation into my career path. Apparently, I settled for my current job. That is not to say I don't love being a nurse but I think I have hidden behind it because it's safe. I don't have to dress up and I didn't. Blue scrubs have become my permenant wardrobe outside of my walking clothes. I never wear make-up (which I can) and earrings/french tips are a common sense no-no. As I have said since highschool, I dream of also being a novelist. I dreamed of taking nursing to the next level and eventually being a Cancer Research nurse. I planned to become an active member in the Black Nurses Society and the local chapter of ONS. None of that has happened and as much as I want to blame other factors, at the end of the day, I sold myself short. I can do better and I will endeavor, as I reach the ripe old age of 33, to actually do better.
Finally, my hair loss update. I have lost a ton of hair in the last couple of months. At first it seemed that it was due to the surgery (alopecia is a common/expected side effect caused by malabsorption). The only problem with that logic was I had a Vertical Sleeve which is different in that it does not work by malabsorption and instead only reduces the size of the stomach, much like a gastric band. Again people were helpful in offering their advice and I did everything from cut my hair in September with bi weekly scalp treatment to suggest to my primary doctor I wanted to be on Biotin/Prenatal vitamins to help it. In the end, on a hunch, my doctor suggested a Vitamin D deficiency and prescribed me some supplements. It's been about a month now and while I am still losing a good bit of hair it is no where near the amount I was losing. I am no longer at risk for being bald and the cut I got earlier in September combined with it's thinning have my hair really looking healthy.
So the bottom line: I need to stop worrying and I need to keep tuning out other people. Again, I love the cheerleaders in my life but I also hear alot of negative/critical things as well. Whether people mean it or not, it's nothing to do with the people around me, it is about building on me. I deserve more and you only get it from being better with every new day than you were the day before, not by someone else's yardstick, only your own will get the measurement just right.
Until next time,
Fat Girl
That leads me to the first topic, my diet. I know I have friends and family trying to help but you really aren't. If following advice of everyone led to weight loss I would be a svelt 99lb waif from all the advice I've taken in, listened to, or dismissed over the years. Please refer to previous posts if you are reading this and somehow know me without being aware, as the Lady Gaga song goes: I was born this way! Not to say I don't have love for all my cheerleaders, that will never change. I only mean to say that this is my journey and the one voice I haven't listened to in all these years is my own inner voice. This is the only voice I am ultimately listening to now. She knows me best after all ;-)
So what is my diet? My diet is everything/anything I want to eat. I can eat literally anything 6 months (-10 days) post op. That's what makes it challenging. It is up to me to make those choices on what is best. What is best for me, is not always what everyone agrees upon. By this, I mean, the tomato soup (see title). Prime example: I have either one of two reactions to seeing my lunch selection at work which is MOST often tomato soup and applesauce. I get someone wearing an appalled expression that this will be all I am eating for a 13 hour period with a shake of their head. Or I get the person warning me of how much sodium those canned soups have and they tell me to be careful with eating that all the time. Well fine friends, here are the facts: I don't cook, I never have because I don't like to, not because I can't. I take care of my mother full time. There is no other local family members that can or is willing to help. This means I'm not getting in the kitchen to prepare anything. A healthy alternative or the healthiest for me is to pick up a can of Campbell's Soup. If they have a Healthy Request brand then I choose that one. If not I get Classic Tomato or Creamy Tomato soup. The protein ranges from 3-5gm which is pitiful. The calorie count varies from 80-180 (Creamy is the highest). The fat is 5gm (8% of your daily total). Last the cholesterol is 5mg out of a daily 2000mg allowance and the Sodium a whopping 650mg which is over a quarter of your daily allowance, also 2000mg. I'm sure there is a Biggest Loser fan out there cringing in fright BUT it works for me. I have 30 minutes tops for lunch on a good day, in which time I check in with my mother and assure she has usually made it home safely from dialysis. I don't have time to get too fancy. If you look at the average heat and eat meal you will see that astounding 650 mg of sodium is actually pretty low compared and I'm not even going to talk about getting food from the cafeteria. I'll be lucky if I survive the day! It allows me to drink my lunch quickly and get back to work quicker. If I try to throw down something more complex it makes me nauseous immediately after until it settles and a case of bubble gut for the rest of the shift. While this sounds uncomfortable for me (which it is) imagine being the poor patient stuck in bed, trying to learn how to self administer an insulin shot while being distracted by a nurse who is hiccuping with a case of the BGs. NOT COOL! I think it's better for us all if I stick to my 240 calorie lunch for 3 out of 7 days a week. I hope in the future to find a more health conscious lunch choice along with more time to eat that lunch but in the mean time I think I'm not doing so bad.
The other thing I've always gotten tons of advice on is my exercise regimen (see previous posts). At the end of September I just decided to go with what I know and enjoy. That is walking and running. Now I am not run ready as of yet but I practice and I am getting there. At least 3 times a week I set aside time and I walk 4 miles. Some of those times I will walk with 3lb weights (x2) and I have a ball. I participated in a 2K walk and I am planning to attend more as my schedule changes. Now when I say I walk, I don't want you to think I am traipsing up my street at a leisurely pace. I go to Ed Austin Park on Monument Rd and McCormick, I put on my head phones and I haul ass, my wide flat ass. I walk at too fast a pace to carry a conversation and it is on alternating terrain and incline. Every week I try to adjust the speed and time I am sprinting to have a switch up on my body. It seems to have worked so far. This is my official "hmmph" to everyone that keeps trying to push me into things that are not me. I don't want to Zumbaa. It looks fun...for someone else. I failed miserably at it and while I may make another attempt someday, I won't be relying on it as an exercise regimen. I am not doing or promising to do anything I don't feel 100% comfortable with. I would only be lying to myself which would be the unhealthiest habit of all and lead no where good...for me. Hey, besides, walking clears my mind and I got a thumbs up from the closest person I can refer to as a walking partner, a man in his mid to late fifties (I am guessing) who in warm weather was always dressed as if he was going on Safari. I have dubbed him "Safari Man" (refer to 90s show Martin to get this joke).
I have also begun wearing size 22/24 clothes, which was what I was wearing my Senior year in highschool. This prompted me to pull out clothes I haven't seen in a while/were donated from a friend and it gave me a harsh revelation into my career path. Apparently, I settled for my current job. That is not to say I don't love being a nurse but I think I have hidden behind it because it's safe. I don't have to dress up and I didn't. Blue scrubs have become my permenant wardrobe outside of my walking clothes. I never wear make-up (which I can) and earrings/french tips are a common sense no-no. As I have said since highschool, I dream of also being a novelist. I dreamed of taking nursing to the next level and eventually being a Cancer Research nurse. I planned to become an active member in the Black Nurses Society and the local chapter of ONS. None of that has happened and as much as I want to blame other factors, at the end of the day, I sold myself short. I can do better and I will endeavor, as I reach the ripe old age of 33, to actually do better.
Finally, my hair loss update. I have lost a ton of hair in the last couple of months. At first it seemed that it was due to the surgery (alopecia is a common/expected side effect caused by malabsorption). The only problem with that logic was I had a Vertical Sleeve which is different in that it does not work by malabsorption and instead only reduces the size of the stomach, much like a gastric band. Again people were helpful in offering their advice and I did everything from cut my hair in September with bi weekly scalp treatment to suggest to my primary doctor I wanted to be on Biotin/Prenatal vitamins to help it. In the end, on a hunch, my doctor suggested a Vitamin D deficiency and prescribed me some supplements. It's been about a month now and while I am still losing a good bit of hair it is no where near the amount I was losing. I am no longer at risk for being bald and the cut I got earlier in September combined with it's thinning have my hair really looking healthy.
So the bottom line: I need to stop worrying and I need to keep tuning out other people. Again, I love the cheerleaders in my life but I also hear alot of negative/critical things as well. Whether people mean it or not, it's nothing to do with the people around me, it is about building on me. I deserve more and you only get it from being better with every new day than you were the day before, not by someone else's yardstick, only your own will get the measurement just right.
Until next time,
Fat Girl
Monday, September 24, 2012
Beyond the weight
I am currently weighing in at 287lbs. That brings my total to 90lbs and I am hitting probably my third hurdle. Most people call these plateaus but I refuse because I will get through this and the plateau indicates stagnancy to me. So, here is my first major hurdle because I am also coming to realize the next half of this weight loss is an all or nothing effort.
The Zumba thing is a work in progress. The skating thing is a pray about it situation. It is now too cold to swim and that leaves me walking. This mornings walk of 4 miles felt great. I did it in 64 minutes and that felt amazing. My arms are sore but in the best way possible. I will succeed and reach goal weight, I do work hard for this. My weight loss surgery only helped me in what I knew was necessary. I have too much at stake not to do more. In the mean time, I promise not to say anything else about what I'm going to do. Apparently a few people in my life have become upset that I talk so much and don't follow through. At the end of the day I think my definition of follow through is different than theirs. On this blog, I promise to try what ever it takes to make a better me. It doesn't mean that I enjoy it, that it's successful, and/or that I will do it more than once. I'm not mad, just focused and when I hear negativity or get side eyed it impacts me negatively. Along that thought process, instead of telling people to get lost, I will just keep my mouth shut and my feet moving.
I am preparing for competition. In June 2013 I am sprinting a 100 yard course with my brother to have him give up smoking. Of all the motivation, this one moves me the most. I can do this. I was born a runner. If you don't know, ask my brother. Hey, you can even ask the purse snatcher I ran down to take back my purse. My nickname should be Kid Adrenaline because while I might look like a big, slow, cow I have always had the wind beneath my feet. All my friends can tell you regardless of my size I move fast. A lot faster than I talk so don't get it twisted. You might be surprised and since my brother has apparently forgotten, he will be too.
School is holding still again. I have to wait until January to start but I'm making progress. Instead of the 30 credits I had to take at UCF I will have to complete 22 at JU. I was asked if I'm ready. Hmm, to take a specialty and get the heck out of the hospital, BSN, OCN, and Dialysis certified. Why yes I am! Working this hard doesn't make any sense! Next career path please! I mean God bless those that make a hospital their life time work but I am not nor will I ever be one of them. My plans are to enjoy this new body and better frame of mind, not be broken by 35. For all those that read the blog regularly then you know that age is decreasing for me. That place is just too much.
For all curious on my vague post recently on men, I am not dating. I haven't even had a nibble. I don't know what that is about but let me just say that I really want a sweetie by V-day. Not for the candy and cards. I am just ready for change and I feel like, with all of my goals if I set them, develop them, and not let myself toss them aside or forget, 5-6 months, when I'm about 220 and looking about 180, I should be attracting some attention. I don't want to be married but I'm not soliciting a sex partner either, I just want companionship from someone outside of my friends and family. Sometimes I feel totally alone, tight rope walking, without a safety net. I don't have another person that I can lean on. For years I have relied on my friends to be my support system while I was going through my many issues but lately I find no one cares. I was leaving work Saturday night and was an hour late and I realized no one cared. I called my brother to ask him about some random nothingness and he rushed me off the phone. Neither one of my girlfriends called me back. No one had checked my facebook status that day. Heck, my own mother hung up the phone on me because she had a headache. So as I'm driving down beach looking at the 295 South signs I wondered if anyone would give a dang if I just got on the highway and disappeared to nowhere or met my demise? How long would it take anyone to realize I was gone? This is what it is like to be utterly alone in a crowded room.
Not going to sink into that pity pool though. I need to regroup and change that aspect of my life by whatever means necessary. That is not to say I want 10 calls each night I work asking how my day was and if I'm doing good, bad, or the other (remember, antisocial butterfly). It simply means that, I can't expect the world to slow down and cater to Tish, I've got to find that someone and make the effort. If I'm not a priority to anyone then maybe I should start focusing on first making a priority of myself and then actively seeking someone that shares that view.
This also doesn't mean I'm depressed or in a dark place. To be honest, I feel great both physically, mentally, as well as emotionally. I just want more and so you guys can understand all that makes up me, I need you to see that I am capable of getting more.
Until next time, One love,
Fat Girl aka "Kid Adrenaline" ;-)
The Zumba thing is a work in progress. The skating thing is a pray about it situation. It is now too cold to swim and that leaves me walking. This mornings walk of 4 miles felt great. I did it in 64 minutes and that felt amazing. My arms are sore but in the best way possible. I will succeed and reach goal weight, I do work hard for this. My weight loss surgery only helped me in what I knew was necessary. I have too much at stake not to do more. In the mean time, I promise not to say anything else about what I'm going to do. Apparently a few people in my life have become upset that I talk so much and don't follow through. At the end of the day I think my definition of follow through is different than theirs. On this blog, I promise to try what ever it takes to make a better me. It doesn't mean that I enjoy it, that it's successful, and/or that I will do it more than once. I'm not mad, just focused and when I hear negativity or get side eyed it impacts me negatively. Along that thought process, instead of telling people to get lost, I will just keep my mouth shut and my feet moving.
I am preparing for competition. In June 2013 I am sprinting a 100 yard course with my brother to have him give up smoking. Of all the motivation, this one moves me the most. I can do this. I was born a runner. If you don't know, ask my brother. Hey, you can even ask the purse snatcher I ran down to take back my purse. My nickname should be Kid Adrenaline because while I might look like a big, slow, cow I have always had the wind beneath my feet. All my friends can tell you regardless of my size I move fast. A lot faster than I talk so don't get it twisted. You might be surprised and since my brother has apparently forgotten, he will be too.
School is holding still again. I have to wait until January to start but I'm making progress. Instead of the 30 credits I had to take at UCF I will have to complete 22 at JU. I was asked if I'm ready. Hmm, to take a specialty and get the heck out of the hospital, BSN, OCN, and Dialysis certified. Why yes I am! Working this hard doesn't make any sense! Next career path please! I mean God bless those that make a hospital their life time work but I am not nor will I ever be one of them. My plans are to enjoy this new body and better frame of mind, not be broken by 35. For all those that read the blog regularly then you know that age is decreasing for me. That place is just too much.
For all curious on my vague post recently on men, I am not dating. I haven't even had a nibble. I don't know what that is about but let me just say that I really want a sweetie by V-day. Not for the candy and cards. I am just ready for change and I feel like, with all of my goals if I set them, develop them, and not let myself toss them aside or forget, 5-6 months, when I'm about 220 and looking about 180, I should be attracting some attention. I don't want to be married but I'm not soliciting a sex partner either, I just want companionship from someone outside of my friends and family. Sometimes I feel totally alone, tight rope walking, without a safety net. I don't have another person that I can lean on. For years I have relied on my friends to be my support system while I was going through my many issues but lately I find no one cares. I was leaving work Saturday night and was an hour late and I realized no one cared. I called my brother to ask him about some random nothingness and he rushed me off the phone. Neither one of my girlfriends called me back. No one had checked my facebook status that day. Heck, my own mother hung up the phone on me because she had a headache. So as I'm driving down beach looking at the 295 South signs I wondered if anyone would give a dang if I just got on the highway and disappeared to nowhere or met my demise? How long would it take anyone to realize I was gone? This is what it is like to be utterly alone in a crowded room.
Not going to sink into that pity pool though. I need to regroup and change that aspect of my life by whatever means necessary. That is not to say I want 10 calls each night I work asking how my day was and if I'm doing good, bad, or the other (remember, antisocial butterfly). It simply means that, I can't expect the world to slow down and cater to Tish, I've got to find that someone and make the effort. If I'm not a priority to anyone then maybe I should start focusing on first making a priority of myself and then actively seeking someone that shares that view.
This also doesn't mean I'm depressed or in a dark place. To be honest, I feel great both physically, mentally, as well as emotionally. I just want more and so you guys can understand all that makes up me, I need you to see that I am capable of getting more.
Until next time, One love,
Fat Girl aka "Kid Adrenaline" ;-)
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Mile Marker 299
Trying to not make this a long drawn out post today but I did want to let every one that is following my success know that I have left the 300's behind me and weighed in this morning at 299.2 pounds. For those keeping track that is 78lbs down from my initial surgery weigh in of 377lbs and 82lbs down from my heaviest weight of 381lbs. I am about 5 days behind on reaching that goal but am in no way disappointed. It took a lifetime after all to gain and the amount I've lost thus far is astounding to consider in such a short period of time.
Stress is still playing a major factor in the rate of my weight loss and I continue to struggle with wrangling that aspect of my life. Like most Americans, food is cheap and easy. No one openly berates you for overeating. Most people don't even know about it unless you tell them.
A friend and I recently disagreed on this issue. While I do know that I clearly have a "fat gene" passed down from both sides of my family and while I do have a slew of co-morbidity including hormone imbalances, diabetes, asthma that limits activity, sleep apnea, depression, and indicators of an addictive personality; I do not say that couldn't help being morbidly obese. In fact, I chose to be morbidly obese. I am solely responsible for how out of control it became. Accepting this responsibility I also acknowledge that I am in control of everything I do now to reverse the damage I have done both mentally and physically to myself. This is important to me because accepting the role of victim...or in a nicer way...accepting a half truth, that being over weight can't be helped, in so many ways, handicaps you to moving forward. It gives you a crutch to fall back on and someone or something to blame when you fail to achieve weight loss goals.
This does not mean I find that friend, myself, or anyone else suffering with obesity a monster of some sort. In fact, people that struggle with obesity are some of the strongest people. It isn't something you can hide and most people judge you long before your story is told. Unfortunately, it does mean that I may hurt your feelings with my honesty at times. I don't see a way to not hurt someone's feelings on this subject but I apologize to anyone that has had their feelings hurt. Being obese is very painful in both mind and body and no one likes to think that they hurt themselves more than any other person could or has. Knowledge is power though and acknowledging is stamina that buoys that power.
I continue to struggle with staggering my drinking with meals. It is a hard habit to break and continues to be a painful lesson learned. I also struggle to eat not beef but pork rather. I hate to accept this but I may have to say so long to the swine. Fish and chicken are my friend. Bread is not. For that matter, most processed foods are not my friend. At this stage, I can eat whatever I want to eat, including desserts but I try to avoid eating anything but a liquid soup while at work because my stomach needs about an hour to eat most meals which I don't and will never have. I eat lean meat and only meat sometimes at meals because I focus on piling on the protein. Green veggies are good too and I am incorporating more of them. I take daily multivitamins, a gummy vitamin sold at Sam's Club for adults. I am supposed to be taking a Vitamin B12, Folate, D3 compound supplement but the taste makes me want to hurl. Instead I get B12 shots when I go to my primary, I drink zipfizz with these minerals/vitamins in it, and I focus on fish in my diet, particularly salmon for the D3 and Omega 3. I try to avoid taking as much medicine as possible, always have, and opt instead to naturally incorporate those things into my diet. We will see how this is working in September when I get a new set of labs. Maybe sooner than that as I recently completed a Health Screening for work and will get the results next week. I strongly advise people to consult their physician and not my blog for health information. I list my own information to give people, particularly those that have had weight loss surgery, direction. Not to play doctor.
Another thing I am still not quite "back to normal" with is my menstrual cycle. At first I thought it was late but now realize that it just is completely out of whack. This month I had two abbreviated cycles while the month before I had none. It wreaks havoc on the scale obviously. I'm not even going to talk about the emotional upheaval it causes! I do believe this is why it is recommended that I wait 18 months to 2 years before I become pregnant. While before, I didn't want children and paid little attention to that information, it now matters greatly to me. Before, I think I squashed down that dream because I didn't have a husband or a boyfriend. I didn't even have a hopeful candidate (still don't). Also, I didn't think I would be able to carry a pregnancy to full term due to how significantly overweight I was and if I did, they were at greater risk for birth defects. Who would knowingly desire a child knowing how dangerous it could be to you or the baby?
The hope never was fully extinguished though because now, as the pounds are shed, the desire burns brighter than it ever has before. The realization that I will reach my weight loss goals opens up new doors of possibility in both my career and my personal life and I confess to have the goal of someday giving life to a mini me a high priority. Lord help the man foolish enough to fall victim to these wiles ;-) Boy is he getting a handful! More importantly, I ask Father, that you point him in the right direction on the map to finding me ;-)
One love,
Not So Fat Girl
Stress is still playing a major factor in the rate of my weight loss and I continue to struggle with wrangling that aspect of my life. Like most Americans, food is cheap and easy. No one openly berates you for overeating. Most people don't even know about it unless you tell them.
A friend and I recently disagreed on this issue. While I do know that I clearly have a "fat gene" passed down from both sides of my family and while I do have a slew of co-morbidity including hormone imbalances, diabetes, asthma that limits activity, sleep apnea, depression, and indicators of an addictive personality; I do not say that couldn't help being morbidly obese. In fact, I chose to be morbidly obese. I am solely responsible for how out of control it became. Accepting this responsibility I also acknowledge that I am in control of everything I do now to reverse the damage I have done both mentally and physically to myself. This is important to me because accepting the role of victim...or in a nicer way...accepting a half truth, that being over weight can't be helped, in so many ways, handicaps you to moving forward. It gives you a crutch to fall back on and someone or something to blame when you fail to achieve weight loss goals.
This does not mean I find that friend, myself, or anyone else suffering with obesity a monster of some sort. In fact, people that struggle with obesity are some of the strongest people. It isn't something you can hide and most people judge you long before your story is told. Unfortunately, it does mean that I may hurt your feelings with my honesty at times. I don't see a way to not hurt someone's feelings on this subject but I apologize to anyone that has had their feelings hurt. Being obese is very painful in both mind and body and no one likes to think that they hurt themselves more than any other person could or has. Knowledge is power though and acknowledging is stamina that buoys that power.
I continue to struggle with staggering my drinking with meals. It is a hard habit to break and continues to be a painful lesson learned. I also struggle to eat not beef but pork rather. I hate to accept this but I may have to say so long to the swine. Fish and chicken are my friend. Bread is not. For that matter, most processed foods are not my friend. At this stage, I can eat whatever I want to eat, including desserts but I try to avoid eating anything but a liquid soup while at work because my stomach needs about an hour to eat most meals which I don't and will never have. I eat lean meat and only meat sometimes at meals because I focus on piling on the protein. Green veggies are good too and I am incorporating more of them. I take daily multivitamins, a gummy vitamin sold at Sam's Club for adults. I am supposed to be taking a Vitamin B12, Folate, D3 compound supplement but the taste makes me want to hurl. Instead I get B12 shots when I go to my primary, I drink zipfizz with these minerals/vitamins in it, and I focus on fish in my diet, particularly salmon for the D3 and Omega 3. I try to avoid taking as much medicine as possible, always have, and opt instead to naturally incorporate those things into my diet. We will see how this is working in September when I get a new set of labs. Maybe sooner than that as I recently completed a Health Screening for work and will get the results next week. I strongly advise people to consult their physician and not my blog for health information. I list my own information to give people, particularly those that have had weight loss surgery, direction. Not to play doctor.
Another thing I am still not quite "back to normal" with is my menstrual cycle. At first I thought it was late but now realize that it just is completely out of whack. This month I had two abbreviated cycles while the month before I had none. It wreaks havoc on the scale obviously. I'm not even going to talk about the emotional upheaval it causes! I do believe this is why it is recommended that I wait 18 months to 2 years before I become pregnant. While before, I didn't want children and paid little attention to that information, it now matters greatly to me. Before, I think I squashed down that dream because I didn't have a husband or a boyfriend. I didn't even have a hopeful candidate (still don't). Also, I didn't think I would be able to carry a pregnancy to full term due to how significantly overweight I was and if I did, they were at greater risk for birth defects. Who would knowingly desire a child knowing how dangerous it could be to you or the baby?
The hope never was fully extinguished though because now, as the pounds are shed, the desire burns brighter than it ever has before. The realization that I will reach my weight loss goals opens up new doors of possibility in both my career and my personal life and I confess to have the goal of someday giving life to a mini me a high priority. Lord help the man foolish enough to fall victim to these wiles ;-) Boy is he getting a handful! More importantly, I ask Father, that you point him in the right direction on the map to finding me ;-)
One love,
Not So Fat Girl
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Say "No" to Gyms!
Hello people! I am here to give you the first post of August and tell you I now weigh 307. That is the big 7....0...in weight loss! Yippee!
Alright, now that I have that out of the way, let me apologize for my crazy title. To assuage the feelings of my personal trainer friends and all my gym rat friends let me first clarify that I LOVE BEING A MEMBER OF A GYM! The problem was for me in the past that I never really have been able to partake of the gym. I have belonged to various gyms my whole adult life. I don't know if you guys recall but my first membership was to Spa Lady, an all female gym that even had pool access. I went twice. I belonged to two gyms at work. I think I may have went 4 times at HSBC, that was the most. I have a free gym at work now that I never seem to make before it closes and God forbid I go on a day off. I have belonged to Bailey's Gym in four locations twice. They are my favorite because they have the dark room that plays sports so I would get on the elliptical machine, pop on my headphones and watch all the hunkahunka men jump on the treadmills in front of me to get the best spot for the boob tube. Some even went topless. SQUEEEE! Alas, the first time was ruined by a mean Bosnian trainer who literally insulted me in front of the entire gym. It got so bad her manager came out and called her on it. The second time, I simply had no one to go with so it grew boring. It wasn't like super hot treadmill guys were jumping off and talking to me. Let's face it...big girl + sweat stains= not a good look. Finally I have been on a tight budget with my nephew and family trips and...eww...student loans so I went to Just Fitness where, well, I tried since it was cheaper but it just wasn't Bailey's. I will say that I have known many of my big girl counterparts who find success at the gym too. I worked with a nurse that simply looks amazing after probably a year of a strict diet and personal training sessions. I have friends that swear by it. A high school friend had to have lost 100lbs since and has kept it off by constantly hitting the gym. I have family that have lost weight and actually instruct classes at the gym. My closest nursing friend spends any time she's not at work in the gym and it brings her peace. My very best friend has been using the gym at work and she is really trimming down with a healthy diet. I am proud of all these people.
That being said, as much as I applaud them for doing it, I realized it is not right for me. I have posted before that I have to once again adapt and recreate myself. Some thing I tell people all the time and I apply to myself as well. "You can't keep doing the same thing and expect different results.". No, if I want to become a healthier version of myself, the gym just isn't the answer FOR ME. I get mad at friends for not working out for one. I hate looking like the pathetic loner (insecurity speaking) at the gym and gym classes are worst because I have no rhythm. I have zero respect for most personal trainers as well (not all because there are some excellent ones out there too) because I am a nurse now and have been for four years. Just because I LOOK like I know nothing of healthy living doesn't mean I didn't pay attention in all the years of training. I have taken multiple nutrition classes and am well versed on cardiac, diabetic, and renal diets because I LIVE it. Some of the crap I have been advised to do from a personal trainer should be held up in a court of law as I sue them and the company that hired the ignoramus with a certificate. I also have come to accept that as much as I enjoyed the concept of toting around a gym key card, I HATE BEING INDOORS. I hate touching sweaty machines, staring at the back of people's heads, and that awful sweat and leather smell. I hate the loud thumping music or the dumb talk shows playing just above eye level. I hate not being able to wear whatever the hell I want because nothing ever looks good enough. I have always hated their torture devices and would force myself to go which ties back into the whole friends-not-going-then-I'm-not-going part. Again, this is not what everyone says but...it may be what they are thinking, maybe not. Whatever is going on in everyone else's mind, this girl is jumping off of the elliptical.
That brings me to my current dilemma. I need to be more active. After the first 4-6 months (November) I will have to work to continue to lose the weight. That's usually after the first 100-125lbs. Here is my resolution: I just need to live. Sounds simple right? One of the things about being fat all your life is there are plenty things I have never done. There are things that I have always wanted to do or been forced to set aside. These are the things I need to do to keep me losing weight. What do I mean?
Well, the last 15lbs have been lost simply by increasing my activity. I don't sit down. Even immediately after surgery I walked my ass off at Disney World...literally. My Aunt Tracy and I ran through Animal Kingdom one Sunday afternoon. It was awesome and my reward was that I rode a roller coaster (Everest) for the first time in 14 years. I lost 7lbs that trip! I walk every chance I get and I take the stairs whenever I can to the garage at work or I walk the incline into the garage. I was shocked to find I no longer get winded doing either task.
My nephew is a personal trainer of the first water. Keeping up with him is better than running around a small mirrored room with a weight ball any day. I am a little ashamed to say I use him but he loves the attention and time with auntie and I hope I can do it for years to come. I have swam more this summer, probably more than I have ever swam in my life. Not just at a measly pool either, I have swam in the big boy pool, which most people call an ocean. I initially was working on perfecting my skills because while I am a decent swimmer I am the weakest of my family who happen to be fish people. My competitive side has said I need to change that. I swim against the tide to work on this. I swim probably two to three times a week until it gets too cold.
I am working on purchasing a bike or roller skates. Here's the thing. I know how to ride a bike, my father taught me so it's very special to me. I never quite got the hang of roller skates. I want to though. I've always wanted to disco dance with my Uncle Karl (who has a bad knee now) on some skates. Again, my whole family knows how to skate. I am the weakest link once more. I don't want to consider that the ship has sailed but how badly bruised will I become trying to defy my age and gravity? Only time will tell and with either choice I will need lots of prayers.
I still walk and will be working on my sprint since I bet my baby brother that once I'm back down to fighting size next year I will be the sprinter I was at 14, the one that could ALMOST lick her brothers, before the asthma kicked in. Competition is a big influence and a bigger demon in my gut until I beat him. No exchange of money though, he says he will swear off cigarettes FINALLY if I beat him. You should all, of course, cheer for me.
Lastly, once I reach 250lbs I want to join some dance classes and/or a martial arts class with my best friend. I feel like I took her away from that at 16 (martial arts) and turned on to working, eating, and a forever partner to watch movies with. I want to learn more grace and either one of these can do it. Even if I thoroughly regret this promise to myself later I won't regret having a second chance to taste life and experience all the stuff I've missed out on and that beats the dang gym any day.
I'm an honest soul so if I realize that this is not working I will enlist the help of a GREAT personal trainer and recant my above statements about the gym but for now. I'm swearing them off in lieu of a more fulfilling routine called "making up for lost time"!
Until the next time,
Fat Girl
Alright, now that I have that out of the way, let me apologize for my crazy title. To assuage the feelings of my personal trainer friends and all my gym rat friends let me first clarify that I LOVE BEING A MEMBER OF A GYM! The problem was for me in the past that I never really have been able to partake of the gym. I have belonged to various gyms my whole adult life. I don't know if you guys recall but my first membership was to Spa Lady, an all female gym that even had pool access. I went twice. I belonged to two gyms at work. I think I may have went 4 times at HSBC, that was the most. I have a free gym at work now that I never seem to make before it closes and God forbid I go on a day off. I have belonged to Bailey's Gym in four locations twice. They are my favorite because they have the dark room that plays sports so I would get on the elliptical machine, pop on my headphones and watch all the hunkahunka men jump on the treadmills in front of me to get the best spot for the boob tube. Some even went topless. SQUEEEE! Alas, the first time was ruined by a mean Bosnian trainer who literally insulted me in front of the entire gym. It got so bad her manager came out and called her on it. The second time, I simply had no one to go with so it grew boring. It wasn't like super hot treadmill guys were jumping off and talking to me. Let's face it...big girl + sweat stains= not a good look. Finally I have been on a tight budget with my nephew and family trips and...eww...student loans so I went to Just Fitness where, well, I tried since it was cheaper but it just wasn't Bailey's. I will say that I have known many of my big girl counterparts who find success at the gym too. I worked with a nurse that simply looks amazing after probably a year of a strict diet and personal training sessions. I have friends that swear by it. A high school friend had to have lost 100lbs since and has kept it off by constantly hitting the gym. I have family that have lost weight and actually instruct classes at the gym. My closest nursing friend spends any time she's not at work in the gym and it brings her peace. My very best friend has been using the gym at work and she is really trimming down with a healthy diet. I am proud of all these people.
That being said, as much as I applaud them for doing it, I realized it is not right for me. I have posted before that I have to once again adapt and recreate myself. Some thing I tell people all the time and I apply to myself as well. "You can't keep doing the same thing and expect different results.". No, if I want to become a healthier version of myself, the gym just isn't the answer FOR ME. I get mad at friends for not working out for one. I hate looking like the pathetic loner (insecurity speaking) at the gym and gym classes are worst because I have no rhythm. I have zero respect for most personal trainers as well (not all because there are some excellent ones out there too) because I am a nurse now and have been for four years. Just because I LOOK like I know nothing of healthy living doesn't mean I didn't pay attention in all the years of training. I have taken multiple nutrition classes and am well versed on cardiac, diabetic, and renal diets because I LIVE it. Some of the crap I have been advised to do from a personal trainer should be held up in a court of law as I sue them and the company that hired the ignoramus with a certificate. I also have come to accept that as much as I enjoyed the concept of toting around a gym key card, I HATE BEING INDOORS. I hate touching sweaty machines, staring at the back of people's heads, and that awful sweat and leather smell. I hate the loud thumping music or the dumb talk shows playing just above eye level. I hate not being able to wear whatever the hell I want because nothing ever looks good enough. I have always hated their torture devices and would force myself to go which ties back into the whole friends-not-going-then-I'm-not-going part. Again, this is not what everyone says but...it may be what they are thinking, maybe not. Whatever is going on in everyone else's mind, this girl is jumping off of the elliptical.
That brings me to my current dilemma. I need to be more active. After the first 4-6 months (November) I will have to work to continue to lose the weight. That's usually after the first 100-125lbs. Here is my resolution: I just need to live. Sounds simple right? One of the things about being fat all your life is there are plenty things I have never done. There are things that I have always wanted to do or been forced to set aside. These are the things I need to do to keep me losing weight. What do I mean?
Well, the last 15lbs have been lost simply by increasing my activity. I don't sit down. Even immediately after surgery I walked my ass off at Disney World...literally. My Aunt Tracy and I ran through Animal Kingdom one Sunday afternoon. It was awesome and my reward was that I rode a roller coaster (Everest) for the first time in 14 years. I lost 7lbs that trip! I walk every chance I get and I take the stairs whenever I can to the garage at work or I walk the incline into the garage. I was shocked to find I no longer get winded doing either task.
My nephew is a personal trainer of the first water. Keeping up with him is better than running around a small mirrored room with a weight ball any day. I am a little ashamed to say I use him but he loves the attention and time with auntie and I hope I can do it for years to come. I have swam more this summer, probably more than I have ever swam in my life. Not just at a measly pool either, I have swam in the big boy pool, which most people call an ocean. I initially was working on perfecting my skills because while I am a decent swimmer I am the weakest of my family who happen to be fish people. My competitive side has said I need to change that. I swim against the tide to work on this. I swim probably two to three times a week until it gets too cold.
I am working on purchasing a bike or roller skates. Here's the thing. I know how to ride a bike, my father taught me so it's very special to me. I never quite got the hang of roller skates. I want to though. I've always wanted to disco dance with my Uncle Karl (who has a bad knee now) on some skates. Again, my whole family knows how to skate. I am the weakest link once more. I don't want to consider that the ship has sailed but how badly bruised will I become trying to defy my age and gravity? Only time will tell and with either choice I will need lots of prayers.
I still walk and will be working on my sprint since I bet my baby brother that once I'm back down to fighting size next year I will be the sprinter I was at 14, the one that could ALMOST lick her brothers, before the asthma kicked in. Competition is a big influence and a bigger demon in my gut until I beat him. No exchange of money though, he says he will swear off cigarettes FINALLY if I beat him. You should all, of course, cheer for me.
Lastly, once I reach 250lbs I want to join some dance classes and/or a martial arts class with my best friend. I feel like I took her away from that at 16 (martial arts) and turned on to working, eating, and a forever partner to watch movies with. I want to learn more grace and either one of these can do it. Even if I thoroughly regret this promise to myself later I won't regret having a second chance to taste life and experience all the stuff I've missed out on and that beats the dang gym any day.
I'm an honest soul so if I realize that this is not working I will enlist the help of a GREAT personal trainer and recant my above statements about the gym but for now. I'm swearing them off in lieu of a more fulfilling routine called "making up for lost time"!
Until the next time,
Fat Girl
Monday, July 23, 2012
Reporting For Duty
I wish I was a more diligent blogger but the truth about myself, that I accepted almost a decade ago is that I am a habitual procrastinator and I don't like deadlines. It was something I was forced to accept when I considered my career path and the reality of being a successful writer. I thoroughly enjoy writing...as long as it is when I want and about what I want. It's not that I can't write about anything. I've found I have a gift for turning words even. It's just that my motivation is not there to finish something and as a writer with deadlines...it would not have realistically worked out. Burn out was inevitable. Having tasted the forbidden fruit, I will find myself committing to a writing project that I am doomed to disappoint on. For that, my ever faithful supporters, who read all my manic posts, blogs, and watch my randomly painful vids, I thank you. Every once in a while I surprise even myself and come through on time.
That being said, I want to catch you guys up on where I'm at in being the Fat Girl no more. It has been 11 weeks since surgery. Being as I am a Scorpio, with a surgery date of 05/11th and doggedly fixated on 2011(so much so I am STILL correcting charts where I've written it) perhaps this is my week :)
As a reminder, my heaviest weight was 381lbs. I was in a size 5x scrubs, 28-30W in plus sized clothing. I am being gentle because, in honesty, I was beginning to have to butter my gut and hips to slip into some of those 28s. I was having problems carrying around the weight on my nursing floor which is physically taxing to just about any body for 13 hours a day, healthy or not. From previous history I had lost my right kidney due to a staghorn kidney stone that was left undiagnosed/treated for way too long. This combined with hardcore protein loading diets over the past five years had completely crashed my metabolism and my thyroid glands were in crisis. I had early onset of type II diabetes following in the footsteps of my mother and grandmother, both of whom eventually were placed on dialysis and inevitably dealt with heart problems (hardening of arteries) secondary to their long term struggle with the disease. My grandmother Julie, after years of dialysis and a kidney transplant succumbed to a heart attack when I was 13 years of age. My mother now, has had eight heart stents placed to prevent this from happening to her, has been told she needs a bypass but discouraged due to her poor health. Did I mention both of my predecessors had both their kidneys and I only have the one?
On my father's side I have the sickle cell trait, which can have physical symptoms similar to the disease itself and does wreak havoc with your blood/anemias. I also have heart disease and hypertension, which makes a wonderful combination with the prolonged diabetic symptoms. I have sleep apnea, apparently passed down from my grandfather who literally dropped dead of a massive heart attack when I was only 4 and he was 61. My grandmother Mary and now my only blood related aunt on my father's side were both diagnosed in their early to mid 50s with not just breast cancer but an aggressive breast cancer inappropriately titled "Triple Negative" that takes aggressive chemotherapy and radiation to cure and also has a 75% chance of returning in the 3-5 years after the initial diagnosis. You become close friends with an oncologist because regular check-ups are a must as metastasis to other organs like your brain are quick to happen and common to occur. There is a good chance whether I lose weight or not that I may have this battle looming in my future but being overweight makes it 50% more likely. After I realized I was not infallible with the stunning loss of my right kidney at 29 I took a good long look at myself on my 30th birthday. I decided two things: I was way too unhealthy to be so young. If my family's life expectancy was 55-60 years of age then I was "middle aged" and I had done nothing with my life.
For the following two years I worked on etching out my nursing career. I have stopped then started school more than I care to discuss. I became chemo certified and had hopes of following that with oncology certification. It has not happened and is partially responsible for my extended hiatus during my weight loss. I realized at some point, as nonconfirming as I have always tried to be of society's expectations of an overweight black woman from the south, my unconventionality was doing nothing for my career. No matter what accomplishments I strived for and achieved I would always be seen as someone lacking, needing something more because of my obesity. In my twenties I thought I had a complex or an insecurity towards my weight. I do not. I have been overweight every single day of my life. It is harder for me now, adjusting to people telling me how beautiful I am and even sexy than it ever was to be big and confident. No, we as a society have a complex, particularly in healthcare, where we view overweight people as disgusting, repulsive, unattractive, and frankly ignorant. It has never helped that I love to smile and laugh (read previous blog). Many of my coworkers think I just wandered into nursing, that I should be so grateful that my current director puts up with me, and that I should ride this job as long as I can with a huge grateful grin because with a drying up economy and looking the way I did I would be lucky to ever get anything better.
I will validate those claims only with the following sentences and then continue with my purposeful and pointed silence on these points. I was raised by my mother solely as the oldest of three children and her only daughter. My father was murdered when I was only 8 years old. The only support and structure in my life, my Grandmother Mary, died after fighting an extensive and senseless battle with cancer when I was only 15. I have been molested by two of my mother's boyfriends before that tender age of 15. I single handedly built my career both as a loan agent and then all over again as a nurse, which I have wanted to be since I was 15 and my grandmother advised me to become in some of the last words she ever said to me. I put myself through school over the last decade plus and I did it one class at a time. I have struggled with the brutal murder of my brother that resulted in him being returned to us in pieces. When I say I dealt with it, I was forced to arrange his funeral and burial with his headstone by myself with no insurance and not a penny to my name, my mother too distraught to deal with it. All at the age of 22. I continued to pursue loose ends to his disappearance and do to this very day all while knowing his killer is free and unpunished and in the eyes of many people it is just something I need to "accept" because of the life he chose to live which was that of a petty drug dealer. I have fought to hold on to my baby brother as he has had his own tangles with the law and the unemployment line. I have even taken on the additional responsibility of Aunt/Guardian Angel to a nephew brought into the world by two of the most irresponsible people I've ever met. Nothing has ever been given to me that I haven't had to pay back and often time three fold. I am a self sufficient person in the highest sense of the words who has recreated and adapted to many situations that would have taken out someone that is not as God centered, intelligent, resourceful, or nearly as strong as myself. These words are not my pity party. I feel God would not have painted for me a life with so many colors if it didn't make such a breathtaking picture. I am the contradiction to EVERY stereotype and I am proud of that fact. Where I am, I got myself there, holding only His hand and there has been no luck involved seeing as all mine is bad. No, I have worked hard for every minute of it and any blessings I "walk into" are the destination on a both narrow and treacherous path I have been chosen by Him to walk. I don't owe people an explanation on the fruits of my labor be I 175 or 375lbs.
So I stopped blogging for a minute and felt unmotivated to post progress because I didn't feel like those in my life, family, coworkers, etc wish me well but were rather anticipating my fall. Why should I set up the stage, sell the tickets, and give a performance just so everyone could throw tomatoes?
Again, here I am at my 11th week though and I see that I am cheating myself more than anyone in this experience. I want a chance to look back on this from the other side and see how I got over the largest mountain of my life, my struggle with taking care of myself. I want my future husband and children to be able to watch a "fat mommy" video and realize that this was not something I just decided on a whim, nor was it without pain or effort. I look in the mirror and wonder how I could have allowed myself to become the monster I see and yes, I still see an unhealthy blob monster. I am now 313lbs and think the scale is broken, to the point I have two at home and have snuck onto the one at work. I wear a snug size 26 and I still hear a voice in the back of my head telling me it's the cut of the fabric. My sleep apnea continues to improve and will probably be gone at the 100lb mark. I have had to stop all my medications as my blood pressure and blood sugar is low and I am looking forward to labs in September. I am not delusional toward the fact that this is still my "honey moon phase" though. I stay awake at night anxiously chewing my lip with a glazed expression as the doubts take over on whether or not I can do this or in complete panic that the weight I've lost will come falling back on me the same way one of those upstairs safes fall from a window like in the cartoons. The battle is hardly over and wont be for many years to come, probably not ever. I am excited to be down and will always be happy to discuss my surgery prep and outcomes with anyone willing to listen as a testimony to becoming a better person, however you see fit to pursue that.
I have ordered a camcorder and will try to post a video before the week is over. I will try to be more diligent with my blog post but above all, if you don't hear from me for another spell, know that I am in the pursuit of my own happiness in love, family, and career. Know that I AM a happy soul for 90% of my life and these demons are not winning. Lastly, know that while I have shaped and molded my life on my own I do know that there are people cheering me on and that by doing so you have been such a comfort and reinforcement in all of this.
Keep believing and keep encouraging. With love,
Fat Girl
That being said, I want to catch you guys up on where I'm at in being the Fat Girl no more. It has been 11 weeks since surgery. Being as I am a Scorpio, with a surgery date of 05/11th and doggedly fixated on 2011(so much so I am STILL correcting charts where I've written it) perhaps this is my week :)
As a reminder, my heaviest weight was 381lbs. I was in a size 5x scrubs, 28-30W in plus sized clothing. I am being gentle because, in honesty, I was beginning to have to butter my gut and hips to slip into some of those 28s. I was having problems carrying around the weight on my nursing floor which is physically taxing to just about any body for 13 hours a day, healthy or not. From previous history I had lost my right kidney due to a staghorn kidney stone that was left undiagnosed/treated for way too long. This combined with hardcore protein loading diets over the past five years had completely crashed my metabolism and my thyroid glands were in crisis. I had early onset of type II diabetes following in the footsteps of my mother and grandmother, both of whom eventually were placed on dialysis and inevitably dealt with heart problems (hardening of arteries) secondary to their long term struggle with the disease. My grandmother Julie, after years of dialysis and a kidney transplant succumbed to a heart attack when I was 13 years of age. My mother now, has had eight heart stents placed to prevent this from happening to her, has been told she needs a bypass but discouraged due to her poor health. Did I mention both of my predecessors had both their kidneys and I only have the one?
On my father's side I have the sickle cell trait, which can have physical symptoms similar to the disease itself and does wreak havoc with your blood/anemias. I also have heart disease and hypertension, which makes a wonderful combination with the prolonged diabetic symptoms. I have sleep apnea, apparently passed down from my grandfather who literally dropped dead of a massive heart attack when I was only 4 and he was 61. My grandmother Mary and now my only blood related aunt on my father's side were both diagnosed in their early to mid 50s with not just breast cancer but an aggressive breast cancer inappropriately titled "Triple Negative" that takes aggressive chemotherapy and radiation to cure and also has a 75% chance of returning in the 3-5 years after the initial diagnosis. You become close friends with an oncologist because regular check-ups are a must as metastasis to other organs like your brain are quick to happen and common to occur. There is a good chance whether I lose weight or not that I may have this battle looming in my future but being overweight makes it 50% more likely. After I realized I was not infallible with the stunning loss of my right kidney at 29 I took a good long look at myself on my 30th birthday. I decided two things: I was way too unhealthy to be so young. If my family's life expectancy was 55-60 years of age then I was "middle aged" and I had done nothing with my life.
For the following two years I worked on etching out my nursing career. I have stopped then started school more than I care to discuss. I became chemo certified and had hopes of following that with oncology certification. It has not happened and is partially responsible for my extended hiatus during my weight loss. I realized at some point, as nonconfirming as I have always tried to be of society's expectations of an overweight black woman from the south, my unconventionality was doing nothing for my career. No matter what accomplishments I strived for and achieved I would always be seen as someone lacking, needing something more because of my obesity. In my twenties I thought I had a complex or an insecurity towards my weight. I do not. I have been overweight every single day of my life. It is harder for me now, adjusting to people telling me how beautiful I am and even sexy than it ever was to be big and confident. No, we as a society have a complex, particularly in healthcare, where we view overweight people as disgusting, repulsive, unattractive, and frankly ignorant. It has never helped that I love to smile and laugh (read previous blog). Many of my coworkers think I just wandered into nursing, that I should be so grateful that my current director puts up with me, and that I should ride this job as long as I can with a huge grateful grin because with a drying up economy and looking the way I did I would be lucky to ever get anything better.
I will validate those claims only with the following sentences and then continue with my purposeful and pointed silence on these points. I was raised by my mother solely as the oldest of three children and her only daughter. My father was murdered when I was only 8 years old. The only support and structure in my life, my Grandmother Mary, died after fighting an extensive and senseless battle with cancer when I was only 15. I have been molested by two of my mother's boyfriends before that tender age of 15. I single handedly built my career both as a loan agent and then all over again as a nurse, which I have wanted to be since I was 15 and my grandmother advised me to become in some of the last words she ever said to me. I put myself through school over the last decade plus and I did it one class at a time. I have struggled with the brutal murder of my brother that resulted in him being returned to us in pieces. When I say I dealt with it, I was forced to arrange his funeral and burial with his headstone by myself with no insurance and not a penny to my name, my mother too distraught to deal with it. All at the age of 22. I continued to pursue loose ends to his disappearance and do to this very day all while knowing his killer is free and unpunished and in the eyes of many people it is just something I need to "accept" because of the life he chose to live which was that of a petty drug dealer. I have fought to hold on to my baby brother as he has had his own tangles with the law and the unemployment line. I have even taken on the additional responsibility of Aunt/Guardian Angel to a nephew brought into the world by two of the most irresponsible people I've ever met. Nothing has ever been given to me that I haven't had to pay back and often time three fold. I am a self sufficient person in the highest sense of the words who has recreated and adapted to many situations that would have taken out someone that is not as God centered, intelligent, resourceful, or nearly as strong as myself. These words are not my pity party. I feel God would not have painted for me a life with so many colors if it didn't make such a breathtaking picture. I am the contradiction to EVERY stereotype and I am proud of that fact. Where I am, I got myself there, holding only His hand and there has been no luck involved seeing as all mine is bad. No, I have worked hard for every minute of it and any blessings I "walk into" are the destination on a both narrow and treacherous path I have been chosen by Him to walk. I don't owe people an explanation on the fruits of my labor be I 175 or 375lbs.
So I stopped blogging for a minute and felt unmotivated to post progress because I didn't feel like those in my life, family, coworkers, etc wish me well but were rather anticipating my fall. Why should I set up the stage, sell the tickets, and give a performance just so everyone could throw tomatoes?
Again, here I am at my 11th week though and I see that I am cheating myself more than anyone in this experience. I want a chance to look back on this from the other side and see how I got over the largest mountain of my life, my struggle with taking care of myself. I want my future husband and children to be able to watch a "fat mommy" video and realize that this was not something I just decided on a whim, nor was it without pain or effort. I look in the mirror and wonder how I could have allowed myself to become the monster I see and yes, I still see an unhealthy blob monster. I am now 313lbs and think the scale is broken, to the point I have two at home and have snuck onto the one at work. I wear a snug size 26 and I still hear a voice in the back of my head telling me it's the cut of the fabric. My sleep apnea continues to improve and will probably be gone at the 100lb mark. I have had to stop all my medications as my blood pressure and blood sugar is low and I am looking forward to labs in September. I am not delusional toward the fact that this is still my "honey moon phase" though. I stay awake at night anxiously chewing my lip with a glazed expression as the doubts take over on whether or not I can do this or in complete panic that the weight I've lost will come falling back on me the same way one of those upstairs safes fall from a window like in the cartoons. The battle is hardly over and wont be for many years to come, probably not ever. I am excited to be down and will always be happy to discuss my surgery prep and outcomes with anyone willing to listen as a testimony to becoming a better person, however you see fit to pursue that.
I have ordered a camcorder and will try to post a video before the week is over. I will try to be more diligent with my blog post but above all, if you don't hear from me for another spell, know that I am in the pursuit of my own happiness in love, family, and career. Know that I AM a happy soul for 90% of my life and these demons are not winning. Lastly, know that while I have shaped and molded my life on my own I do know that there are people cheering me on and that by doing so you have been such a comfort and reinforcement in all of this.
Keep believing and keep encouraging. With love,
Fat Girl
Monday, June 18, 2012
New Frame of Mine...Pun Intended
It has been a trying six weeks since surgery. I have had revelation after revelation in my personal and professional life and my head spins just to keep up. When I resumed my weight loss surgery journey I never imagined that the actual surgery would be so under whelming but it effects so utterly astounding.
So, when I began my pre-op diet I was 377lbs of beautiful. I have type II diabetes and lost my kidney 3 years ago. As a registered nurse I felt a bit pretentious with my patients, many of whom also struggle with managing diabetes and obesity. It cost me a few thousand and a lot of side eyes and the day seemed like it would never come for me. I began to wonder if I was really supposed to have this surgery. That was my first revelation: I was meant to be something more than what I was.
Now, five, almost six weeks after I am 50lbs lighter and weighing in at 327lbs. I found my way back to church, back to God, and back to family, which means a lot to me but finally is taking a back seat to my own life. Yet another revelation: If I don't put myself first then I won't be happy, only bitter because no one else thinks my happiness is important either.
The latest of these revelations was hurtful and frankly has made me more determined to make the changes in my life faster, wiser, and with more focus on all the things that made me overweight in the first place. A person who I never thought was a good person for my life, who right up until my surgery God was telling me to distance myself from, proved my intuition correct. Feeling threatened by my talent both as a nurse and as a likable person this demon decides to further themselves by throwing dirt on my character at work. They shared my personal facebook status with my director and expressed that I and several co-workers were negative influences to my work environment. Now this person didn't hurt me because I saw it coming. What hurt was that my director, after the four years I've worked for her chose to believe it. I have had repeated compliments from my patients, I have had even more from my coworkers and all the while felt incredibly trapped and depressed in my current position. To sit across from me and tell me I was at risk of "poisoning the floor with my negativity" was a slap in the face.
That night I went home and deleted about 20 of my coworkers. I knew even then that only one was guilty BUT it was the most important revelation to date. I have to let go of false friends and people poisoning MY LIFE. If I had to hover over their face debating and rehashing past encounters or if I didn't know them well enough to be sure then they weren't true friends and I don't want them jeopardizing my future endeavors/blessings.
This past weekend I received confirmation on who the demon was but I'm still keeping it to myself because putting them on Front Street also gives them the power over my life they craved. I am better than that and need to focus on moving forward. In the end, I knew long before the incident that my director didn't respect my talent and feels threatened by my potential. Given that, and her true character, it was not a nurturing environment and was never meant to be my final destination. If I had the confidence I have now I would have never signed on there to begin with and instead continued on to become an Oncology nurse. I can't say I regret the experience though because I have touched the lives of some pretty wonderful people as they have also touched mine. I must chalk it up to a lesson learned and keep it moving.
Continue to pray for me through this total renovation and I will continue to draw strength from all the love and support I can't help but feel.
One love,
Fat Girl
So, when I began my pre-op diet I was 377lbs of beautiful. I have type II diabetes and lost my kidney 3 years ago. As a registered nurse I felt a bit pretentious with my patients, many of whom also struggle with managing diabetes and obesity. It cost me a few thousand and a lot of side eyes and the day seemed like it would never come for me. I began to wonder if I was really supposed to have this surgery. That was my first revelation: I was meant to be something more than what I was.
Now, five, almost six weeks after I am 50lbs lighter and weighing in at 327lbs. I found my way back to church, back to God, and back to family, which means a lot to me but finally is taking a back seat to my own life. Yet another revelation: If I don't put myself first then I won't be happy, only bitter because no one else thinks my happiness is important either.
The latest of these revelations was hurtful and frankly has made me more determined to make the changes in my life faster, wiser, and with more focus on all the things that made me overweight in the first place. A person who I never thought was a good person for my life, who right up until my surgery God was telling me to distance myself from, proved my intuition correct. Feeling threatened by my talent both as a nurse and as a likable person this demon decides to further themselves by throwing dirt on my character at work. They shared my personal facebook status with my director and expressed that I and several co-workers were negative influences to my work environment. Now this person didn't hurt me because I saw it coming. What hurt was that my director, after the four years I've worked for her chose to believe it. I have had repeated compliments from my patients, I have had even more from my coworkers and all the while felt incredibly trapped and depressed in my current position. To sit across from me and tell me I was at risk of "poisoning the floor with my negativity" was a slap in the face.
That night I went home and deleted about 20 of my coworkers. I knew even then that only one was guilty BUT it was the most important revelation to date. I have to let go of false friends and people poisoning MY LIFE. If I had to hover over their face debating and rehashing past encounters or if I didn't know them well enough to be sure then they weren't true friends and I don't want them jeopardizing my future endeavors/blessings.
This past weekend I received confirmation on who the demon was but I'm still keeping it to myself because putting them on Front Street also gives them the power over my life they craved. I am better than that and need to focus on moving forward. In the end, I knew long before the incident that my director didn't respect my talent and feels threatened by my potential. Given that, and her true character, it was not a nurturing environment and was never meant to be my final destination. If I had the confidence I have now I would have never signed on there to begin with and instead continued on to become an Oncology nurse. I can't say I regret the experience though because I have touched the lives of some pretty wonderful people as they have also touched mine. I must chalk it up to a lesson learned and keep it moving.
Continue to pray for me through this total renovation and I will continue to draw strength from all the love and support I can't help but feel.
One love,
Fat Girl
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Twas The Night Before Surgery...
I don't know how long this blog will be but I felt like I owed it to everyone to write this, on the eve of one of the most important moment in my life. The day went by so fast to me. It is a Thursday that I could easily forget except that it is also my deceased brother's birthday. That I would never forget.
First, I woke up this morning with a kink in my neck laying across my bed with a pile of unfolded clothes, my cat Basil blinking at me. This was because I know my Aunt Barbara, my cancer fighting warrior and knowing her I figured she was coming well before the 6pm hour she had told me previously. In an attempt to anticipate the early arrival I came right home from work and began doing a deep cleaning. I was all of 30 minutes in and I passed out exactly where I sat watching "Family Guy".
My Mom had already jetted to dialysis and the adventure via JTA to her podiatrist and I was alone. "Johnny Test" was now on, the sun was shining bright and I was behind. I jumped up, pulled my hair back and began to do multiple tasks at a time. It was only 830am. By 1045, true to form, my Aunt Barbara calls me lost at Dunn Avenue because they've changed the signs to 9A to read 295 North. I go into hyper drive and finish the house, wash the funk off, just in time to answer the door.
By then it was time to go shopping for all my post surgical diet items and as I get to the foods I begin to freak out. No more "good eats". No more regular size meals. I am saying goodbye to it all. I don't know what happens after tomorrow, my future is an excitingly blank slate. WOW.
The rest of the day was a blur, probably because I forgot to eat and my sugar was bottoming out, something I fear for the future or maybe because the injury of only a few weeks ago flared up. All I know is suddenly I was struggling to remain upright and I was mentally done. I drank some water, ate dinner and began to feel better but even still I just was all over the place and I kept zoning out. My mother leaned over and whispered she sang my brother happy birthday and felt like he was there with her today. My aunt said the same. I just took a step back and reflected. My brother is always close to me and yet just out of reach on any given day. I am particularly sad on his birthday because I know that it is one more he will never see. I regret not being able to save him. Today was different though, I am still sad but I feel buoyed by love, not only his, but everyone on this side and the next. I feel both sad for the friend (food) that I am leaving behind and excited that I am loved, I have felt loved even as a super obese person, and that love will stay big and warm around me as the weight falls down like so much rain.
I am not big on bible verses and sermons. Hey if anyone has been paying attention I just attended my first church service in 18 years. Tonight though, as it rolls over to midnight and a new day, I have to draw strength and calm from the two sermons from the pastor of the church I hope to soon belong to. The most recent one was: though the world seems overwhelming and poison (snake bites) are trying to take you out, you have got to "SHAKE IT OFF". The first sermon I heard pretty much described the last 10 years of my life and put it into perspective for me. "CHANGE LOOKS LIKE CHAOS UNTIL THE WORK IS DONE." It's been a long time people but the work is coming to completion and I know I've looked a many kind of ways in the past, maybe like I wasn't going to be part of those who made it through but God moves in me suddenly and surely. I may look like a hot mess but that's God, he just aint through with me yet.
God bless us all and thank you in advance for pulling me through this even when I counted myself out.
Yours Always,
Fat Girl
First, I woke up this morning with a kink in my neck laying across my bed with a pile of unfolded clothes, my cat Basil blinking at me. This was because I know my Aunt Barbara, my cancer fighting warrior and knowing her I figured she was coming well before the 6pm hour she had told me previously. In an attempt to anticipate the early arrival I came right home from work and began doing a deep cleaning. I was all of 30 minutes in and I passed out exactly where I sat watching "Family Guy".
My Mom had already jetted to dialysis and the adventure via JTA to her podiatrist and I was alone. "Johnny Test" was now on, the sun was shining bright and I was behind. I jumped up, pulled my hair back and began to do multiple tasks at a time. It was only 830am. By 1045, true to form, my Aunt Barbara calls me lost at Dunn Avenue because they've changed the signs to 9A to read 295 North. I go into hyper drive and finish the house, wash the funk off, just in time to answer the door.
By then it was time to go shopping for all my post surgical diet items and as I get to the foods I begin to freak out. No more "good eats". No more regular size meals. I am saying goodbye to it all. I don't know what happens after tomorrow, my future is an excitingly blank slate. WOW.
The rest of the day was a blur, probably because I forgot to eat and my sugar was bottoming out, something I fear for the future or maybe because the injury of only a few weeks ago flared up. All I know is suddenly I was struggling to remain upright and I was mentally done. I drank some water, ate dinner and began to feel better but even still I just was all over the place and I kept zoning out. My mother leaned over and whispered she sang my brother happy birthday and felt like he was there with her today. My aunt said the same. I just took a step back and reflected. My brother is always close to me and yet just out of reach on any given day. I am particularly sad on his birthday because I know that it is one more he will never see. I regret not being able to save him. Today was different though, I am still sad but I feel buoyed by love, not only his, but everyone on this side and the next. I feel both sad for the friend (food) that I am leaving behind and excited that I am loved, I have felt loved even as a super obese person, and that love will stay big and warm around me as the weight falls down like so much rain.
I am not big on bible verses and sermons. Hey if anyone has been paying attention I just attended my first church service in 18 years. Tonight though, as it rolls over to midnight and a new day, I have to draw strength and calm from the two sermons from the pastor of the church I hope to soon belong to. The most recent one was: though the world seems overwhelming and poison (snake bites) are trying to take you out, you have got to "SHAKE IT OFF". The first sermon I heard pretty much described the last 10 years of my life and put it into perspective for me. "CHANGE LOOKS LIKE CHAOS UNTIL THE WORK IS DONE." It's been a long time people but the work is coming to completion and I know I've looked a many kind of ways in the past, maybe like I wasn't going to be part of those who made it through but God moves in me suddenly and surely. I may look like a hot mess but that's God, he just aint through with me yet.
God bless us all and thank you in advance for pulling me through this even when I counted myself out.
Yours Always,
Fat Girl
Friday, April 27, 2012
Long Time No Write
It's been a rough few months and March and April usually are for me. From the birthday and the death of my grandmother, who I loved dearly and respected as a mentor to the driving death of my cousin 13 years ago to finally the acidic bitter pill of justice denied in the 10th year of my brother's murder going unsolved. I am indeed starting out this blog in a bad place. Every time I have sat down to write I have stopped after only a few words because there was just no positivity coming through these fingers. Now, after running from the darkness desperately for the last three months I am finally beaten, exhausted, and willing to accept that I need to express myself regardless of whether there is sunshine and smiles or tears and rage. It just needs to come out and if I don't have a release then I am going t slip away.
I straightened my hair for the first time in about three years. At first I thought it was great and I enjoyed the positive reaction I got but at the end of two weeks I started remembering the reason I went natural in the first damn place. While I initially wanted to cut it all off after the first week in rebellion I had to stop and think about it. As mentioned previously, this is also the reason I am obese. Along that train of thought, this is not healthy. That leaves me with feelings of confusion. Is it me because I can't take a compliment or I see them as back handed? Is it everyone else's misconception of beauty? Is it the fact I need to look to focus more or less on what people think to obtain my goals? In the one hand I enjoy being treated like a lady, particularly by guys. I have had more guys hit on me with my long flowing hair than when I was 100lbs lighter with my short natural locks. Really? What about my hair is so much more appealing? Do we as blacks really hate ourselves so much? Are we so programmed? I think of my cousin Keisha and her choice to be natural for years now and I think of my godchild Kat. I even think of the daughter I have yet to give life to and may never. Should I teach her to love herself from the inside to her naturally African American self or should I program her into a more commercialized, Anglo-Saxon version that the world can praise her for? I can't speak for every black girl. I can't speak for every impressionable girl, I can only reflect as a biracial child, seeking...needing a place to fit. When I think of ideal beauty I think of my grandmother Mary w/o a stitch of make-up, compact and neat, always looking like she owned the place. She could go deaconess chic or bingo granny slumming and whatever the look she was gorgeous in my eyes. I never saw her hair past her shoulder but always combed no mater the occasion. I appreciate texture in our women's hair. I think it is one of God's greatest creations and yet we torture it straight, chemically saturate it until it is too confused to do anything, let alone grow and in the end will probably just fall out. Yet I realize in these last few weeks, if I just submit, and play the game, opportunities for the greater good abound.
I initially started writing this on April 24th and it is now April 25th and I have been approved for Gastric Sleeve surgery. My surgery date is May 11, 2012. The moment is bitter sweet because there has never been a time in my life where food was not a constant stress reliever, source of joy, and sometimes friend where the rest of the world has failed me. I am programmed to look to food to solve all my problems and very abruptly, in two weeks time that will be snatched away from me. Hopefully for life but whether I choose to follow my diet or not at least 6 months. I am both excited to see my clavicle after all these years and frightened that after all this I'm still going to be that same old fat girl asking myself "Now what Tish?". I am a natural introvert who boarders on being autistic which is where I believe I get my creative side from. I would rather hole up in my house for the rest of my life reading my books, typing my blogs, watching episodes of Vamp Diaries, True Blood, and Dexter than to go window shopping, or on a date, or even to hang out at someone else's house. Social awkwardness doesn't even begin to cover it folks. When I felt uncomfortable there are two fail safes and one of them was food. I ask that the Lord and all of my friends who have shown nothing but support for me continue to encourage me towards healthier habits and healthier outlets for my "awkwardness". Particularly now that I have to say goodbye to an old friend. Until next time friends.
The One and Only,
Fat Girl
I straightened my hair for the first time in about three years. At first I thought it was great and I enjoyed the positive reaction I got but at the end of two weeks I started remembering the reason I went natural in the first damn place. While I initially wanted to cut it all off after the first week in rebellion I had to stop and think about it. As mentioned previously, this is also the reason I am obese. Along that train of thought, this is not healthy. That leaves me with feelings of confusion. Is it me because I can't take a compliment or I see them as back handed? Is it everyone else's misconception of beauty? Is it the fact I need to look to focus more or less on what people think to obtain my goals? In the one hand I enjoy being treated like a lady, particularly by guys. I have had more guys hit on me with my long flowing hair than when I was 100lbs lighter with my short natural locks. Really? What about my hair is so much more appealing? Do we as blacks really hate ourselves so much? Are we so programmed? I think of my cousin Keisha and her choice to be natural for years now and I think of my godchild Kat. I even think of the daughter I have yet to give life to and may never. Should I teach her to love herself from the inside to her naturally African American self or should I program her into a more commercialized, Anglo-Saxon version that the world can praise her for? I can't speak for every black girl. I can't speak for every impressionable girl, I can only reflect as a biracial child, seeking...needing a place to fit. When I think of ideal beauty I think of my grandmother Mary w/o a stitch of make-up, compact and neat, always looking like she owned the place. She could go deaconess chic or bingo granny slumming and whatever the look she was gorgeous in my eyes. I never saw her hair past her shoulder but always combed no mater the occasion. I appreciate texture in our women's hair. I think it is one of God's greatest creations and yet we torture it straight, chemically saturate it until it is too confused to do anything, let alone grow and in the end will probably just fall out. Yet I realize in these last few weeks, if I just submit, and play the game, opportunities for the greater good abound.
I initially started writing this on April 24th and it is now April 25th and I have been approved for Gastric Sleeve surgery. My surgery date is May 11, 2012. The moment is bitter sweet because there has never been a time in my life where food was not a constant stress reliever, source of joy, and sometimes friend where the rest of the world has failed me. I am programmed to look to food to solve all my problems and very abruptly, in two weeks time that will be snatched away from me. Hopefully for life but whether I choose to follow my diet or not at least 6 months. I am both excited to see my clavicle after all these years and frightened that after all this I'm still going to be that same old fat girl asking myself "Now what Tish?". I am a natural introvert who boarders on being autistic which is where I believe I get my creative side from. I would rather hole up in my house for the rest of my life reading my books, typing my blogs, watching episodes of Vamp Diaries, True Blood, and Dexter than to go window shopping, or on a date, or even to hang out at someone else's house. Social awkwardness doesn't even begin to cover it folks. When I felt uncomfortable there are two fail safes and one of them was food. I ask that the Lord and all of my friends who have shown nothing but support for me continue to encourage me towards healthier habits and healthier outlets for my "awkwardness". Particularly now that I have to say goodbye to an old friend. Until next time friends.
The One and Only,
Fat Girl
Friday, February 17, 2012
Another Good Step...
I am having a wonderful year as I move towards having my vertical sleeve. My Mom and I are fresh off a cruise that was amazing as much as the weather was cold and turbulent. We had a blast not because of great weather but because we were together and the rest of the world didn't matter. For four days we were out of touch and it was amazing! When we got back I jumped right back into chaos. They floated me off the floor that next Tuesday and I had a blast. I miss the joy Oncology nursing used to bring me and I now wonder if there is another specialty that would suit me better...or maybe just another floor/hospital. In the meantime, this is all I'm going to/willing to give credence to. I love my coworkers and I'm excited to be there after the surgery for them to see the results.
So today, I went to see the cardiologist for cardiac clearance. Dr. Nehu Patel is my doctor and he is wonderful! I hate to keep gushing about my doctors but they ARE really good. Anyway, I went in for a 2D echo which I had three years ago and a stress test that I have never had before. The echo was done in a midrift baring paper gown by an asian, male, tech. He was totally professional but it was hardly relaxing with my boobs trying to fall out of the bottom of the gown. So I was a little stressed to say the least. When I was finished I go into the next room to await my stress test. Then the doctor and the tech begin discussing an echo where they found an MI (myocardial infarction or heart attack). That increased my stress another few notches thinking I have had a heart attack I didn't recognize. I pretty much was almost at max heart rate by then from the stress but the nurse was so nice. I found out later everyone that they were not talking about me and in short I was cleared for surgery by Dr. Patel who then gave me a pep talk and wished me luck and told me to call him as needed.
As I drove off I realized that God is really clearing my path for this surgery. He has gave me amazing, professional, doctors, who actually seem to care for their patients. It is so different from the set of doctors I had three years ago and VERY much so from 10 years ago when I first attempted to get a Roux N Y. This just feels right and the nay sayers aren't moving me. God love them but this going to happen and I will be a success. I don't know when but all of my obstacles are evaporating like mist in the face of the sun.
So today, I went to see the cardiologist for cardiac clearance. Dr. Nehu Patel is my doctor and he is wonderful! I hate to keep gushing about my doctors but they ARE really good. Anyway, I went in for a 2D echo which I had three years ago and a stress test that I have never had before. The echo was done in a midrift baring paper gown by an asian, male, tech. He was totally professional but it was hardly relaxing with my boobs trying to fall out of the bottom of the gown. So I was a little stressed to say the least. When I was finished I go into the next room to await my stress test. Then the doctor and the tech begin discussing an echo where they found an MI (myocardial infarction or heart attack). That increased my stress another few notches thinking I have had a heart attack I didn't recognize. I pretty much was almost at max heart rate by then from the stress but the nurse was so nice. I found out later everyone that they were not talking about me and in short I was cleared for surgery by Dr. Patel who then gave me a pep talk and wished me luck and told me to call him as needed.
As I drove off I realized that God is really clearing my path for this surgery. He has gave me amazing, professional, doctors, who actually seem to care for their patients. It is so different from the set of doctors I had three years ago and VERY much so from 10 years ago when I first attempted to get a Roux N Y. This just feels right and the nay sayers aren't moving me. God love them but this going to happen and I will be a success. I don't know when but all of my obstacles are evaporating like mist in the face of the sun.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Hard to Say Goodbye...2011
It's always this time of year that I hunker down to write New Year's resolutions. About three years ago I stopped doing that and instead began doing a "Best/Worst of" list of the year where I would list what was good about the year and what was awful. This year though I didn't want to do it anymore. I didn't want to dream of what I could do better, what I had accomplished in the space of 365 days, or what I had failed at as another 12 months had passed me by. My life is so much bigger than that and so much more rich than a list of anything can possibly express.
For this new year I want to simply make the most of it and use the time to reflect on all the years before it. This is a very big year to me and it wasn't supposed to be so but over the years it just kept building in momentum until I'm standing at the precipice of something much bigger than me. I've gained a peek at God's path for me and it feels so...what's the word I want to use...sometimes enlightening, sometimes justified, and sometimes overwhelming. I have learned a whole lot about myself in the short span of time called a year, a blip in the yawning distance of eternity. I have given myself a hard honest look as a human being, not as a black or biracial woman, not as a sister, or a daughter, a niece, a cousin, a nurse, an aunt, or a friend. I examined myself as I saw me and rationalized with my own expectations and found myself here, at the beginning of a new chapter long over due.
My father's illegitimate son found my Facebook page and reached out to me. It was the first time I ever called into question my decision not to know him. If I was being fair to him for placing upon his head his parent's crimes against me and my life and made the first revelation about my character in the two page letter I wrote him back. His response was the first acceptable closure I got in my life. I have to move on and I don't have to have approval from those that know me or those that don't, it's not about my father or the woman he slept with, it is about me. We will never be siblings through no fault of my own and I am perfectly content with that. Whether his life is good or bad I have no control over that nor do I wish to have it.
Another thing happened among a thousand. I stopped making the people in my life saints and accepted, dead or alive that we are only human. It was a change for me because along with the elevated pedestal I put my family on, particularly those in heaven, came an overwhelming guilt for not giving MORE of myself to them while they were alive. I don't owe my life or happiness to anyone. I can't blame the lack thereof on anyone either. As stated earlier, it is hard to say goodbye but by letting go I will finally open myself up to all the rest that I've been missing.
For this new year I want to simply make the most of it and use the time to reflect on all the years before it. This is a very big year to me and it wasn't supposed to be so but over the years it just kept building in momentum until I'm standing at the precipice of something much bigger than me. I've gained a peek at God's path for me and it feels so...what's the word I want to use...sometimes enlightening, sometimes justified, and sometimes overwhelming. I have learned a whole lot about myself in the short span of time called a year, a blip in the yawning distance of eternity. I have given myself a hard honest look as a human being, not as a black or biracial woman, not as a sister, or a daughter, a niece, a cousin, a nurse, an aunt, or a friend. I examined myself as I saw me and rationalized with my own expectations and found myself here, at the beginning of a new chapter long over due.
My father's illegitimate son found my Facebook page and reached out to me. It was the first time I ever called into question my decision not to know him. If I was being fair to him for placing upon his head his parent's crimes against me and my life and made the first revelation about my character in the two page letter I wrote him back. His response was the first acceptable closure I got in my life. I have to move on and I don't have to have approval from those that know me or those that don't, it's not about my father or the woman he slept with, it is about me. We will never be siblings through no fault of my own and I am perfectly content with that. Whether his life is good or bad I have no control over that nor do I wish to have it.
Another thing happened among a thousand. I stopped making the people in my life saints and accepted, dead or alive that we are only human. It was a change for me because along with the elevated pedestal I put my family on, particularly those in heaven, came an overwhelming guilt for not giving MORE of myself to them while they were alive. I don't owe my life or happiness to anyone. I can't blame the lack thereof on anyone either. As stated earlier, it is hard to say goodbye but by letting go I will finally open myself up to all the rest that I've been missing.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Another year wiser...
So in only a couple of hours I will turn 32 years old. Thirty-two...wow, as my brother said, I am getting old. That's okay though, I'm taking everyone with me! Muhahahahahaha! Now that I have that out of the way, I can proceed with the blog.
I am scared as hell y'all. Not so much about the surgery because for some reason since nursing school I have followed Dr. Webb. I feel very comfortable with him as my surgeon. It's more what I'm going to do after the surgery to prevent myself from ever coming back this way again. I never want to be this big again. I am absolutely miserable in my skin! Bills keep climbing, I can't catch a break, and I just want to focus on this process but the world won't let me. November is my birth month but I want the day of my surgery to be my burfday...no joke, I will forever celebrate that as my BURFDAY.
If I come begging for clothes you guys have to help me and if you see me eating anything I shouldn't, you don't have to smack me in the back of the head, my stomach's going to do that for me ;-)
"Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow." --Albert Einstein
Night y'all and here's to the big 3-2!
Fat Girl
I am scared as hell y'all. Not so much about the surgery because for some reason since nursing school I have followed Dr. Webb. I feel very comfortable with him as my surgeon. It's more what I'm going to do after the surgery to prevent myself from ever coming back this way again. I never want to be this big again. I am absolutely miserable in my skin! Bills keep climbing, I can't catch a break, and I just want to focus on this process but the world won't let me. November is my birth month but I want the day of my surgery to be my burfday...no joke, I will forever celebrate that as my BURFDAY.
If I come begging for clothes you guys have to help me and if you see me eating anything I shouldn't, you don't have to smack me in the back of the head, my stomach's going to do that for me ;-)
"Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow." --Albert Einstein
Night y'all and here's to the big 3-2!
Fat Girl
Monday, October 17, 2011
Rip Van Me
I thought about what I would post all weekend and resolved to post today. At the end of it all I just decided to write it out. This week is a week of stress along the lines of weight loss. I am busting out of all my clothes and feel so damn frumpy but I refuse to buy more clothes. One, I will soon be throwing away/donating all my clothes anyway at a rapid fire rate. Two, shopping for clothes depresses me because most clothes in stores don't even fit me.
My depression also makes me unhappy with however I look. My mother's nephrologist told me I look like a totally different person when I'm not in the hospital. It's unfortunate I still feel like a troll. I have patient's tell me I have beautiful skin all the time but to me it looks oily and shiny, and of course there is too much of it. I alternate from breaking down and relaxing my hair and cutting it all off. Oh and this is me AFTER Wellbutrin. I have always thought that I had a healthy dose of self esteem but as I draw closer to the surgery date and anxiety grows about life after weight loss, I'm realizing I have none. I wonder if I ever really had it or have been coasting through on dumb luck and bravado.
It's like this, the soul searching continues and must delve deeper into who I am and have always been. I am proud of the adult I have grown into but so much of my potential has been stunted by my weight. I feel lost in my teenage years, swallowed by what I have been fooling myself into thinking were long dead insecurities. I keep waiting for someone to sort it out for me and give me direction but no sage, wisdom filled, voice from the past has presented itself yet. In its place are endless hopes for companionship, bitterness about not finding someone that feels I'm the woman of their dreams, and the echoes of yearning for my own children instead of always being the aunt, the cousin, the godmommy to someone else. I feel as if I've been sleeping for the last 15 years and while I am anticipating the journey, in so many ways, I have a fear of what I'll find once I wake up.
I am working on being less EMO but utilizing the outlet is already reflecting positively in managing anxiety, stress, and depression. There will be rainbows after the rain as well as a butt load of puddles. I just have to deal with it hour by hour, day by day. My quote for the day is a fave of mine. "It was always the becoming he dreamed of, never the being." -F. Scott Fitzgerald
Love yourself,
Fat Girl
Monday, October 10, 2011
Coming Out of the Fridge
Today, or rather yesterday, I came clean to my Facebook Friends that I am getting weight loss surgery. Last week I came clean to my co-workers. I was met with the usual responses, most give me encouragement and support, some begin suggesting diets that may or may not have been successful for them, some try to scare me. I am numb to it all. Not because I can't deal with it but because I have been on this road for so long! I was a chunky baby and it never got any better. My grandmother, bless her soul, put me on my first clinician supervised diet when I was 14. I was 214 pounds then. I lost 15lbs over the next year with walking with my uncles, her neighbors, and alas even my grandmother, the 5'2" stick swinging virago. It felt great but was shortly followed by the worst year of my life. My grandmother's breast cancer returned, if it was ever really gone, my mother moved us to Jacksonville, FL, into a trailer park and every black man within a one mile radius began making passes at me. While I was only 15, I looked "old enough". By the time I was molested for the second time in my life, I began eating myself into an asexual state of mind. I don't think I talk to anyone outside of family who knew me from back then but that woman that was awakening in me died, she was smothered by all the food I was eating. By the time I arrived in highschool I was more alone than I had ever felt in my life. I spent all of freshman year sitting alone in the cafeteria or outside on the patio in a dark place, praying for answers. God sent me good friends, great friends that calmed the beast and I muddled through a lot of personal drama focusing on college and the beautiful life waiting for me after I was done with school.
Only nothing went the way it was supposed to. I went to college and struggled to work (in order to pay for the classes) and make it to the full time schedule of classes. I never learned to relate to the vapid youth I took classes with. I didn't understand them and they didn't understand me. I dropped out and went to work at Walmart full time. The following year I got the job at Citibank and was fooled into the idea I didn't need college, that I could do this for a while and publish a few books by the time I was 30 and I would be alright. Sit down job plus fat friends who love to eat plus credit cards and 90% of your income to spend on food and travel only packed on the pounds. I looked into the Roux-N-Y for the first time at 22. I was 377lbs at weigh in with a doctor doing the surgery in Celebration, FL. My brother Jeffrey was against me having the surgery because he knew so little about it and he was afraid for me going under the knife. For the first time my brothers expressed love for me...within months of this my brother was brutally murdered. I felt it was a sign from God for a long time that I was not meant to have the surgery.
It's been almost a decade since. I have still continued to view myself as an asexual person, I have somehow found myself taking care of my disabled mother, watching over my baby brother, and taking on the burden of my new nephew, who is not himself a burden but his well being and happiness weighs heavy on my mind. I digress.
I quit Citibank after they began moving me towards selling to elderly or confused people to make a paycheck. I worked at Washington Mutual, my dream job, all the OT I wanted, a position of seniority, and a false calm. The mortgage portion of the company went belly up after 2 years and my eyes were suddenly open to the struggles of the working class my ancestors had struggled through my whole life. A long dormant dream came to mind and caught fire then. I had wanted to be a nurse but my low self confidence and fear of math had stopped me. I felt I owed my baby brother something to look up to though and my mother something to be proud of. I began taking prerequisites for it and signed up for MRC, a metabolic diet plan that cost a fortune but WORKS. I went from 368 to 299. It was the best thing that ever happened to me and I began to feel like a woman again. It gave me the confidence to pull through school and get my current job...then I became sick. Two years ago, I lost my right kidney to the protein overload of the diet I had been on. I don't blame the company, I blame myself. I went hard...too hard.
So that leads up to my current situation. I am back up to 375, all the health problems I had at 22 and this weight are back as well as some new ones now that I am an RN that abuses my body as an occupational hazard AND my diabetes type II has set in. Exercise doesn't seem to work and with my only workout partner I feel like I'm actually hurting myself. My stress is way higher than it was back then with my family looking at me as "the responsible decision maker". My uncle, with whom I had a strained relationship at best because of issues he had with me being biracial, died in a freak accident in February, my aunt was diagnosed with aggressive breast cancer, and lastly my mother began dialysis. I began to eat again and the weight I had staved off at 320-330 suddenly spun out of control in response. That leads me here, making a decision to drastically change my life.
I want this more than anything right now. I see it as an escape from floor nursing. I see it as a way to be a woman again, not just a counselor, support system, or martyr for her family. I see it as an escape from the health problems that plague my mother, and finally I just see it as freedom. I want this and even more important, I deserve it. This is not a spur of the moment decision but rather a painfully life long destination I am tired of visiting. I leave you with this quote, "If you want to live a happy life, tie it to a goal, not to people or things." --Albert Einstein
Goal On,
Fat Girl
Only nothing went the way it was supposed to. I went to college and struggled to work (in order to pay for the classes) and make it to the full time schedule of classes. I never learned to relate to the vapid youth I took classes with. I didn't understand them and they didn't understand me. I dropped out and went to work at Walmart full time. The following year I got the job at Citibank and was fooled into the idea I didn't need college, that I could do this for a while and publish a few books by the time I was 30 and I would be alright. Sit down job plus fat friends who love to eat plus credit cards and 90% of your income to spend on food and travel only packed on the pounds. I looked into the Roux-N-Y for the first time at 22. I was 377lbs at weigh in with a doctor doing the surgery in Celebration, FL. My brother Jeffrey was against me having the surgery because he knew so little about it and he was afraid for me going under the knife. For the first time my brothers expressed love for me...within months of this my brother was brutally murdered. I felt it was a sign from God for a long time that I was not meant to have the surgery.
It's been almost a decade since. I have still continued to view myself as an asexual person, I have somehow found myself taking care of my disabled mother, watching over my baby brother, and taking on the burden of my new nephew, who is not himself a burden but his well being and happiness weighs heavy on my mind. I digress.
I quit Citibank after they began moving me towards selling to elderly or confused people to make a paycheck. I worked at Washington Mutual, my dream job, all the OT I wanted, a position of seniority, and a false calm. The mortgage portion of the company went belly up after 2 years and my eyes were suddenly open to the struggles of the working class my ancestors had struggled through my whole life. A long dormant dream came to mind and caught fire then. I had wanted to be a nurse but my low self confidence and fear of math had stopped me. I felt I owed my baby brother something to look up to though and my mother something to be proud of. I began taking prerequisites for it and signed up for MRC, a metabolic diet plan that cost a fortune but WORKS. I went from 368 to 299. It was the best thing that ever happened to me and I began to feel like a woman again. It gave me the confidence to pull through school and get my current job...then I became sick. Two years ago, I lost my right kidney to the protein overload of the diet I had been on. I don't blame the company, I blame myself. I went hard...too hard.
So that leads up to my current situation. I am back up to 375, all the health problems I had at 22 and this weight are back as well as some new ones now that I am an RN that abuses my body as an occupational hazard AND my diabetes type II has set in. Exercise doesn't seem to work and with my only workout partner I feel like I'm actually hurting myself. My stress is way higher than it was back then with my family looking at me as "the responsible decision maker". My uncle, with whom I had a strained relationship at best because of issues he had with me being biracial, died in a freak accident in February, my aunt was diagnosed with aggressive breast cancer, and lastly my mother began dialysis. I began to eat again and the weight I had staved off at 320-330 suddenly spun out of control in response. That leads me here, making a decision to drastically change my life.
I want this more than anything right now. I see it as an escape from floor nursing. I see it as a way to be a woman again, not just a counselor, support system, or martyr for her family. I see it as an escape from the health problems that plague my mother, and finally I just see it as freedom. I want this and even more important, I deserve it. This is not a spur of the moment decision but rather a painfully life long destination I am tired of visiting. I leave you with this quote, "If you want to live a happy life, tie it to a goal, not to people or things." --Albert Einstein
Goal On,
Fat Girl
Thursday, September 22, 2011
The Cost of Living...
I just needed a break today. I am SO SICK OF HEALTHCARE and the more obese I have become the more obsessed I am forced to become with it. It's bad enough I'm a nurse and for at least 3 days a week I listen to my unfortunate senior population at the hospital and all the sacrifices they have to make to make ends meet. Add to it the fact that I come home to a sick mother transitioning into dialysis. Recently, in pursuit of my surgery I have had to reacquaint myself with healthcare. I went from in August having an OTC allergy medication to being on Lisinopril, Dulera, Wellbutrin, Janumet, and Singulair. Really? I went t having no doctor to seeing three and having an appointment with one or the other at least once a week until the end of the year. People go to their doctor to make themselves feel better but instead I feel more sick. My vertical sleeve is scheduled for end of February, first of March. I am itching for it to be next week just so I can stop being a walking target for the system. I hate bashing on my profession but I am sick to death of being made to feel I need a pill for every moment of my life, that I am to sick to breathe much less live without a referral or physician supervision! In June of next year I am going on a cruise and I am going to ride the hell out of some roller coasters. Sounds really lame but this is what I keep my focus on right now so I don't just shut down.
I know it is going to get better I am just low on financial and spiritual resources right now. So, on that note I bid thee goodnight and pass on this quote. "So many people spend their health gaining wealth and then must spend their wealth regaining health." ---A.J. Reb Materi
I know it is going to get better I am just low on financial and spiritual resources right now. So, on that note I bid thee goodnight and pass on this quote. "So many people spend their health gaining wealth and then must spend their wealth regaining health." ---A.J. Reb Materi
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
You're not that funny
I don't know if I can or will write a blog everyday. I might, we will have to see. I wasn't going to write today actually. A few things prompted the post. First, I wanted to clear up that while I am 375lbs and morbidly obese, and while I am currently pursuing weight loss surgery, this is NOT a blog about that. I have found early on in my life that writing helps me clear my head and I am good at it. Not in the technical sense, I will probably never get paid for it but I enjoy writing and I have found people enjoy reading what I write, for the most part. This is just part of the plan, to write on what's going on in my life rather than picking up a sandwich or a slice of pizza. I could simply buy a journal I know but something about others reading it make me feel I am heard.
Secondly, I had my psych evaluation for my vertical sleeve surgery. It's mostly just one more hurdle to get over but the counselor had a good spirit about her. I was more honest with her than I have been with anyone in a long time and I was shocked in a way. I don't know if it was simply her open spirit, or my soul was crying out for a cleaning, or just maybe this surgery is so life changing it inspired me to reveal more of the person I'm leaving behind. Regardless I found myself talking to her about the stress I'm under and for the life of me I can't remember what, but while I was telling her some truly horrific detail of the stress behind me being overweight I laughed. The woman sat back and sort of blinked with a blank expression and then she began to nod, saying that I had a wonderfully resilient personality, that despite all that I have been through I can still laugh. I get this reaction a lot so I think I will clarify to those that don't know me.
I am not a negative person at all that throws herself pity parties. I am generally not a dark person either and I do enjoy laughing but I want to be clear, I do not think everything is funny. It is a trait I inherited from both my mother and my father, this coping mechanism of "laughing" things off, like some people would shrug things off. Often times I cling desperately to the humor of situations just to get through them. I would not say I am jovial and at any given moment I am much closer to tears rather than laughter. Crying in public, or throwing a grown woman temper tantrum, hell, cursing someone out, all of it, are socially unacceptable where as laughter is not. I am sure there are days when I look as if somethings wrong because I'm not laughing/smiling. I am also sure as I lose weight and become more comfortable in my skin I will do both less but if you know me, I ask that you take it as a compliment. I simply trust you enough to relax my guard.
Any way, I'm still working on the blog, more changes to come. I will leave you with a word from Ethel Barrymore that I found appropriate to this post. "You grow up the day you have your first real laugh--at yourself."
Secondly, I had my psych evaluation for my vertical sleeve surgery. It's mostly just one more hurdle to get over but the counselor had a good spirit about her. I was more honest with her than I have been with anyone in a long time and I was shocked in a way. I don't know if it was simply her open spirit, or my soul was crying out for a cleaning, or just maybe this surgery is so life changing it inspired me to reveal more of the person I'm leaving behind. Regardless I found myself talking to her about the stress I'm under and for the life of me I can't remember what, but while I was telling her some truly horrific detail of the stress behind me being overweight I laughed. The woman sat back and sort of blinked with a blank expression and then she began to nod, saying that I had a wonderfully resilient personality, that despite all that I have been through I can still laugh. I get this reaction a lot so I think I will clarify to those that don't know me.
I am not a negative person at all that throws herself pity parties. I am generally not a dark person either and I do enjoy laughing but I want to be clear, I do not think everything is funny. It is a trait I inherited from both my mother and my father, this coping mechanism of "laughing" things off, like some people would shrug things off. Often times I cling desperately to the humor of situations just to get through them. I would not say I am jovial and at any given moment I am much closer to tears rather than laughter. Crying in public, or throwing a grown woman temper tantrum, hell, cursing someone out, all of it, are socially unacceptable where as laughter is not. I am sure there are days when I look as if somethings wrong because I'm not laughing/smiling. I am also sure as I lose weight and become more comfortable in my skin I will do both less but if you know me, I ask that you take it as a compliment. I simply trust you enough to relax my guard.
Any way, I'm still working on the blog, more changes to come. I will leave you with a word from Ethel Barrymore that I found appropriate to this post. "You grow up the day you have your first real laugh--at yourself."
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