Post-Op Week 104: My Genes Suck

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The biology nerd in me did some digging into my 23andMe data.  Here’s what I learned about the snps in my FTO gene.  Plain and simple:  I have the mutation in this one snp that predisposes me to both severe obesity and type 2 diabetes.  Awesome. 

I’m fighting a battle that I will never truly win, and that I’m going to be stuck fighting the rest of my life.   I’ve done a shitty job of taking care of myself for the past 8 months.  I acknowledge this.  I have finally gotten to the point where I am tired of my own bullshit, and I’m tired of letting Fat Girl win.  I’m ready to get me back to feeling good and healthy (despite all my orthopedic maladies, two of whichhave popped up since my surgery 2 years ago). 

I return home next week, and I’ve got a plan in place to reclaim my health.  I owe it to me to put Fat Girl in her place and make her see that once and for all, I deserve to be healthy, happy, and comfortable in my own skin.

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The smile is deceptive. Happy but not with how I look.

Accepting the Me that Is

Epicurus--do not spoil

A childhood friend shared this with me today.  In light of my moving toward acceptance of the body I am currently in, I thought it would be good to post it here for posterity’s sake.

I remember a time when I longed for the body I have, and how I didn’t think I’d ever get what I have now.  Now I’m here and struggling to love what is.

It is not constructive to want what I am not and what I cannot be or have because of my biology.

It’s time to stop fighting the genetic deck that is stacked against me and to accept what is.

It’s time to embrace the me that has become.  It’s time to accept the me that is.

I will love this incarnation of me.  As hard as this is, I will love this me, with all her imperfections, scratches and dents.

I will love the rolls, ripples, varicose veins, wrinkles and the stretch marks.  I will love the curves and bumps, the saggy, the baggy, the bones that jut out, and the tendons I more readily see under my skin.

I will love this version 2.0, and I will accept it as me.

If I don’t love this me, it will be hard for others to love it too.

Post-Op Week 102: Acceptance and Moving Forward

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It’s been a couple of weeks since I updated anything regarding post-op life, so here is one.

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Post-Op Week 100: 100 Days of Summer

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My 100 days of summer started yesterday.  I donned my summer uniform (tan, shorts, polo or t-shirt, sandals of some sort) and spent most of the day outside with my husband.  Getting to spend time in the sun has done wonders for me.  I am happier than I have been in a while, and dare I say, hopeful about what this summer is going to bring.

I’ve gained weight back.  I know this.  I see it in the picture above.  I feel it in how snugly my jeans and skirts fit these days.  I feel it in how clingy my t-shirts are around my midsection.   I know this because  I’m puffy in places I haven’t been puffy in quite some time.  I’m not pleased with this, but I know what needs to happen, and I’m working on the steps I need to take to right myself.

I’ve revised my goal weight, because I think that my original goal is unreachable and unreasonable.  Without plastic surgery to remove the extra skin around my belly, I will always have a gut and the love handles to match.  This is a hard and fast fact of life.  It is something I am going to have to learn to accept, whether I want to or not.  It is also something I am going to have to learn to tone up so that it’s not quite so inner tube-y.  I have my age and aging skin working against me as well.  I will simply have to do the best I can with what I have.

I am also going to have to figure out new movement goals for myself, since my original goals will not be attainable given the health of my knees.  I will likely never be able to play tennis or softball again.  I will also likely not be able to run again.  Both of these things are heartbreaking to me, as they were all things I’d hoped to be able to do once I lost weight.  And now that my knees are in terrible shape (well not NOW, they always were; it’s just way more evident now), I have to find new movement goals to aim at.  It’s tough because I am still so set on wanting to do the things I’d originally set out to do, and now I cannot do them.  It infuriates me, and aiming for other movement goals makes me feel like I’ve settled.  And I don’t like to settle for anything.

The plan for these 100 days of summer is to spend as much time as possible in the sun, the pool and the gym.  I need to recharge my batteries, reset my behavior, and rejuvenate my soul.  I need to clear my head of all the obstacles I’ve placed in front of Me 2.0 so that she can get to her new goal.

Post-Op Week 99: The Prodigal Patient

I know it’s been a couple of weeks since I last wrote anything here.  And as this is one of the ways I hold myself accountable, well…let’s just say I haven’t felt much like doing that lately.

This is going to be a quick post for a few reasons:

  • I have a bag full of grading to do.  It’s the end of the school year, and I’m bound and determined to finish grades tonight so that all I have to do is grade final exams.
  • I don’t much feel like writing anything.

A couple of weeks ago I was able to make it back to one of my support group meetings since my Rotary Club didn’t have a meeting that week.  It was really odd going back since it had been so long (9 months).  I was a bit fearful and I suppose I felt that way because I felt like I would be judged.  I was also fearful because I was afraid there wouldn’t be anyone I knew there.  Gee, it felt just like it did the first time I went to one of those meetings!  I saw one of the ladies who was a regular in the group before and joked that I’d been the Prodigal Patient, because that’s what I felt like going back to that meeting.

The meeting was led by an intern, not Dr. Ashmore.  This was slightly disappointing because I wanted to talk with him directly about setting up an appointment to see him.  I guess I will have to do that once I am back from the travel I am about to head out on.

It felt odd being back because of my long absence.  There were four folks there that I remember from before so I didn’t feel completely uncomfortable.  This particular meeting didn’t have any structure to it, so I felt lost.  I didn’t feel like going back gave me what I needed.  And at this point, I am not sure what I need from a support group.  I don’t even know what my goals are at this point.

I feel like I need to kick my own ass back into gear but have little to no motivation to do it.   I feel like I need to set new goals but I don’t know what to aim for.

When I joked about feeling like the Prodigal Patient, I wasn’t kidding.  If you don’t know the story of the Prodigal Son, here’s a good summary.

Like the Prodigal Son wasted what his father gave him, I feel like I’ve squandered the opportunity I’ve been given to get my health in order.  And for no good reason either.  I’m really angry about this, although even if there was a good reason for what has happened, I’d probably still be angry about it.  And I am angry with myself.  There is no one to be angry with but me.  This is entirely my fault and it is up to me to fix it.  But how?

I feel very, very, very lost and the only way I know how to calm the anxiety about this lost feeling is to self-medicate with food.  I wish I would self-medicate with exercise instead.  At least then I’d be in better shape than I am now.  :/

I need to find another way to do this because it’s not working.  My clothes are not fitting right and I’m starting to have aches where I didn’t before.  Neither of these things are good and they don’t make me feel good about myself either.

I’m considering the solution that everyone always has in this situation:  go back to basics.  Which for me means going back to pre-op diet world, and in these next three weeks that is not practical for me.  Starting Tuesday of next week, I am on the road for 11 days on a trip for work.  I will not have access to a refrigerator or have much control over what food is served me as there will be catering each day.  So I will just move as much as possible and keep things as simple as possible while I’m gone and hope that I don’t put on any more weight than I’ve already done.  I can do basics once I’m back home and have much, much more control over my environment.

I feel like I’m crawling to Friday.  I see myself in my head on hands and knees, crawling toward an end.  It’s a bleak image in my head, but it accurately reflects how I feel right now.

I just want the mojo I had about this whole process a year and a half ago back.  That’s all.

Post-Op Week 97: Failing vs. Failure

I haven’t felt much like taking pictures of myself the past couple of weeks because I haven’t made any progress.  If anything, I have regressed.

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With regard to my self-care, this is how I have felt the past few months. I am trying hard to plant my feet in the “I am failing” camp rather than the “I am a failure” camp.  I am failing myself right now but am trying to take small steps back toward being successful again.  I don’t see myself as a failure yet, which is good.  But I know I am failing.  And rather than pretend like everything is sunshine and rainbows along this path to health, I’m just going to say it: I’ve sucked at taking care of myself the past 6 months.  There, I said it.

I AM NOT DOING WELL RIGHT NOW.

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Post-Op Week 96: The Light at the End of the Tunnel

…feels like an oncoming train these days.

So what do I do?  I cook, I eat, and I plod on.

Here’s a sampling of what I cooked last week (I’m a week late, I know).

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Top:  pot roast with fresh herbs and veggies.

Left:  broccoli, ham egg and cheese frittata.

Right:  white bean, kale and sausage stew.

Just trying to keep my head above water (pretty literally these days, we’re experiencing record rains after being in drought for 5 years).  June 5 cannot get here soon enough.