Saturday at High Noon

I have been putzing around this morning, then decided to catch up on blogs. I gave myself until noon. That just wasn't enough time, but I've got things to do.

Tomorrow I'm driving my baby, er, teenager to summer camp. We've got to finish getting him packed. He'll be gone six days. I wish the camp were longer, to help him with summer boredom. His summer has been pretty boring because I've been so out of it. Hopefully that will change, soon.

My doctor mentioned taking 800 mg Ibuprofen around the clock for cramping, especially after my ablation. I have taken a few this morning because I have been cramping yet again. I think I'm ovulating. I asked him if this ablation will help with that, and if it will help with the crazy hormones and mood swings, anxiety, etc. I knew the answer when I asked him: No. There were some good comments on some of my previous posts, and I will definitely look into them when I get time.

I'm a little nervous about timing of this drive tomorrow and in six days. I tend to get anxiety during this time, and it worries me because I'll be on the road for three hours to and from our destination. I don't know if I've ever mentioned it on my blog, but I have a huge fear of driving on interstates through large cities.

That fear came about from having a boyfriend's mother killed in Denver on I-70 by an idiot driver. That fear was strengthened while driving through Denver and a mattress flying out of a truck right in front of me on 6th Avenue (a highway) during rush hour. I narrowly escaped an accident with that. And the last time I drove into Denver from Wyoming, I witnessed a drunk driver. As he passed me, I pulled over as far as I could and he passed me fine, but then he hit the truck in front of me.

I also don't like driving at super-fast speeds in lots of traffic. I really don't like it. I'm as tight as a board, I get so tense.

So tomorrow, a Sunday, I have to drive through the Twin Cities to take my teen to camp. Being a Sunday, traffic should be mellow and lighter. I'm not looking forward to it, though. I have never driven further north than Burnsville, MN. I've lived in MN 12 years and have not been to the Mall of America or driven to the Minneapolis Airport.

My palms are sweaty just thinking about this. I have driven the route on Google three times now. I know what it looks like, so that helps a lot. It looks like an easy drive. God love Google maps.

We'll do fine, but I won't enjoy it. I'll drop him off, turn around and drive home. It will be a long day for me. I should be home in time for supper.

When I go to pick DS up, I've already decided to alleviate my anxiety a bit. Coming home, we'll be driving straight west a good, long way and I can't do that through the cities with the sun in my eyes due to the time we'll be through. So we are going to get a motel in Wisconsin that night. That's my birthday weekend, so I told hubby a night in a motel will be my present.

I will take a cooler tomorrow. I'll have our lunch packed and we can stop somewhere to eat. I'll pack snacks and water, too. I told my hubby if I drive by a Taco Bell, I can't guarantee the car won't turn in and stop. lol I don't know what it is about Taco Bell, but I just love their tacos and burritos. I know it's fast food, but I can't make burritos as tasty as they can.

My son has requested a Dairy Queen dinner the night I pick him up. I told him that depends on the fact that there is a Dairy Queen that serves food nearby, and my resolve at the moment. I'll be a bit stressed, and that's not necessarily safe food wise. Last year when I picked him up from camp, we stopped at a DQ on the way home for supper. He's a creature of habit, like his mom.

It will be a sluggish day, six hours of sitting, tension, and I get a little weepy when I drop my son off. I am a baby. I forced him to go to camp in the first place, but it's still hard on me. Now he likes camp, but it's still hard on me.

We're celebrating Father's Day today. Hubby has requested steak for supper. So a good, old-fashioned steak and potatoes night for us.

I know that my anxieties sound so silly. I'm not embarrassed to discuss them, though, because they are a part of who I am and if I bottle them up, I'll never get anywhere. Each time I face my fears, I get a little bit stronger. And that's the point, to get stronger.

Smug

Just when things are turning for the better, health is getting taken care of, I get a confirmation of good blood pressure once again, a doctor becoming animated over my weight loss...

When I'm feeling like I'm on top of the world, kicking butt on this weight loss journey, going strong...

I realized...

I'm getting cocky.

I think that karma was due to bite me in the butt. It did last night.

Last night when we went out to dinner to celebrate the appointment being over and finally knowing what's going on, I was humbled. Really humbled.

They put us in a booth.

Can you see where this is going? I sat down and dog gone it, there was not room for me in the booth. I looked my hubby in the eye, said his name quietly, and he discretely pulled the table toward him. (God love that man.)

I scooted in, took the menu and wondered how red my face was. When it was just us, I looked at hubby and said: After losing 30 pounds, this is still happening? What would this situation have looked like in February when I was 30 pounds heavier and my stomach was a lot bigger?

God was just reminding me that while I've done a great job so far, my task is not complete. Oh yeah, I'm still morbidly obese.

This didn't make me sad, I didn't get all negative in my thinking. I was thankful that it wasn't worse, like it would have been if I were still 282.5. It strengthened my resolve. We enjoyed our dinner, and yes, I stayed on plan.

Wow

If this man is as good a doctor as he is with bedside manner, which I highly suspect he is after Googling him, wow.

He walked in the room, smiled, looked me in the eye, said "hey" instead of hello, which immediately put me at ease...just wow. Answered every question, went through all options at length. Took my complaints seriously, was upset that I'd been suffering for a few years--just wow.

Ablation it is. If that doesn't work out, we'll do a hysterectomy. He believes ablation will work well for me.

Now I just have to wait for his office to call me to schedule.

Same-day surgery. He said those women that work go in on a Friday, have the procedure, and are back to work on Monday.

Wow.

I'm not so scared anymore. It's amazing what a good doctor, with good communication skills can do for a person. I told him how badly I cramped after the biopsy, and he is going to give me some medication to start before the procedure that will help with recovery. He did confirm that my uterus is spasming, which is what I figured.

I am so relieved to have this appointment over with. I am so relieved that it went well, that I liked him, that he took his time with me, and gave me options.

~~~
I can't remember how this came up, but I told him I'd lost almost 30 pounds and had been exercising until after the biopsy. Gosh, he was animated congratulating me. lol We talked about overall health for a bit, kept congratulating me, told me to keep up the good work, etc. My GP, my new GP that is, she didn't even do that -- but she was focused on doing that biopsy and the ultrasound. That felt good. lol

The hope of not having pain like I've been having...tremendous relief.

Wow. What a mood lifter.

The best thing I ever did was go out on a limb and get a new doctor. Bless you, Dr. S., and my new OBGYN Dr. G.

2:35 am

I went to bed early (for me) tonight. I must have been fast asleep before 11. I woke up starving. My stomach was churning, so even though I had all my points for the day, I had a small snack.

Today I have my doctor appointment with the OBGYN. I had my original appointment on June 1st, and I must admit that due to cramping from that biopsy and plain old fear, I haven't done a whole heck of a lot in the past two and a half weeks.

The waiting is finally over. I hate not knowing what the future holds, and today I will find out. I think.

I did get my results from the mammogram today in the mail: NORMAL. Yay to that. For the longest time, I honestly believed that I would have the same ill health that my Mom had. I believed it was my destiny. I had a shift in thinking, telling myself that I didn't have to accept that fate. Heart disease, breast cancer, diabetes were the biggies she had, accompanied by a whole host of minor stuff. Hopefully I won't follow in her footsteps, I'm taking the steps to avoid all that. You just never know with health what is going to happen, though, even if you lead a healthful lifestyle.

Anyway, what's it going to be: hysterectomy or ablation. Or something else. As much as I would love to never have to face another period, or any more pain, I know a hysterectomy has a 6-week recovery period. I have had a myomectomy and a C-section. Same incision, same muscles cut, so I know physically that it is hell for the first two weeks. Yet, that just sounds so appealing to be done with everything once and for all. Only real cure for fibroids is a hysterectomy.

I hope I can get back to sleep. My stomach is no longer growling. I know it's not good to eat in the middle of the night.

I'm going to admit a deep, dark secret here: I'm scared. At least I will know. Knowledge is power.

I Lied!!!

I just got a phone call. It was my library, where I volunteer, and they asked if I would make treats for a special function they were having Thursday night.

I lied. I told her I'd be out of town Thursday night.

Now I will have to get in my car and drive 3 miles to the city limits, drive out of the city limits and then go home. That way it won't be a lie.

And yes, I will really do that because I don't like to lie.

When I volunteered, I did not check the baking box. Nope, because I didn't want to bake for the library. This is the third time they have called and asked me to do so. Grr.

I don't want to bake now. I sat with a plate of brownies 2 feet in front of me when I volunteered at the library book sale awhile back and did fine. I don't think I could handle a pan of bars or brownies baking in my house, though. The smell would get me. My recipes would get me. I can't do that. Yet.

Besides, Thursday is a busy day for me. I have my doctor appointment that day. I may or may not be emotional. I may have hubby take me to dinner. I just don't know what state of mind I will be in. The last thing I want to do is come home from the doctor and bake. Not therapeutic, not gonna happen.

So I'm a liar. I could have told her the truth, but sometimes that's just TMI. I am known to be a little verbose. So I will drive out of the city limits so it will not be a lie, because that is easier than telling the truth. But I guess now it is the truth because I do plan to go out of town Thursday night.

I'm warped.

And so it goes.

Weighing in Crazies

This post could have different titles:

1) Weigh-in Rituals

or

2) Why I Don't Attend Weight Watchers Meetings

Either title would apply to this post.

In 2002, I lost over 70 pounds by attending Weight Watchers. I quit, gained it all back plus a few, and here I am again. This time I chose Weight Watchers Online.

The weigh-in rituals were bad. I had some stinking thinking going on.

I live in a small town. We have one Weight Watchers meeting on Wednesday nights. No others to choose from, no Weight Watchers facility, just the lovely church basement where the meetings were had.

I loved our leader. That was because I knew her outside of Weight Watchers. She has a son a year younger than mine, and we were in Cub Scouts together. She was our Popcorn chairperson (an unenviable volunteer position) and did a fantastic job. I was a den leader. We saw each other a lot, and I always enjoyed her company. Her husband was really nice, too.

I started dreading meetings, though. She was the reason I went, but my thinking got ugly. I started in with those stupid weigh-in rituals. Our weigh-in time started at 6 pm. The meeting started at 6:30. Right off the bat, that is our supper time. No way would I eat *before* attending a meeting. By the time I got home, I was starving.

Wednesdays were very unhealthy for me. I would eat a normal breakfast and lunch, but refused to drink anything in the afternoon, let alone have a snack.

I would force myself to pee. I was obsessed with getting everything out of my body. The whole afternoon, I would go into the bathroom every so often and try to get rid of whatever I could get rid of.

When it was time to get ready to leave, I would change my clothes. I wore the thinnest, most light-weight yoga pants I could find and a light-weight shirt. Not smart, in Minnesota in the winter. I wore slip-on shoes with no socks. If people at the meeting noticed me, they would think I owned only one set of clothing.

When arriving at the meeting, I would go to the bathroom. Gotta get rid of every last drop.

I would stand in line and watch the women. (There were only two men there.) I wasn't the only one with rituals. These ladies would undress themselves as much as public decency would allow. They took off their jewelry, even their rings. The took off the shoes. Some would even take hair clips or pony tail holders out of their hair. They would do this while standing in line, which means the person next to them often got an elbow. Then many would be standing there holding all this stuff and suddenly realize they had to go to the bathroom. Their stuff would be on the floor holding their place in line.

I was lucky in that I could do that at home before I left the meeting, otherwise I would have been the same as them.

When I would finally arrive to the scale, I would be hoping and praying that the scale on the right would be the one I got. See, I had a preference. It made no difference that those scales were put up after each meeting, and the odds were that I had weighed on both many times, I simply HAD to go to the scale on the right. If I was unlucky enough to have the scale on the left, I was really upset. Seriously!

When I started out, I kept my shoes on. I figured I'd have a bad week somewhere along the line and need to slip the shoes off for an added boost some week. Yes, that happened, and I became another who would take her shoes off.

The second I stepped on the scale, I would exhale--have to get all that extra stuff like air out of the lungs for the weigh-in.

As JackSh*t posted, I would also get haircuts on Wednesdays because, you know, a half-inch hair trim makes all the difference in the world. Oh, and I would clip my nails on Wednesday afternoons, too--fingers and toes.

I was absolutely obsessed with the weigh-in rituals.

It was insane.

The minute I got home, I was famished. Oh, let me set myself up for a binge here with this crazy thinking and the crazy rituals. I didn't actually binge ever, but I was in crazy "I need to eat NOW" mode.

Many of the women at the meeting would sit down and eat a WW 2-point bar after weigh-in. I suspect I wasn't the only one who had chosen not to eat on Wednesday afternoons.

I was one who paid as I went. I got smart and started going to meetings every other week, which would guarantee a loss-a bigger loss. Even when I did that, I still did the stupid weigh-in rituals.

NONE OF THAT WAS HEALTHY. It was bad physically and emotionally.

That is why I do not attend meetings this time. I know I would fall into that stupid trap again.

Now, I weigh myself every morning. My official weigh-in day is Monday, but I like to weigh daily as it keeps me on track.

Gone are the stupid rituals. Now my Monday-morning ritual is this: Wake up, go potty, strip down to my birthday suit, hop on the scale. Done. Some Mondays I wait a bit to see if, well, you know, if I could get rid of something else. Because something else is weight, you know. This morning I waited a half hour, but didn't have that, um, constitutional. That's about as crazy as my weigh-ins are now.

I was laughing at myself this morning. Not long after I weighed in and logged my info in on the computer, I had my morning constitutional. I was down another half pound. Damn! Had I only waited. I laughed because I knew better. I'm not going into that stupid thinking anymore. It is what it is. If I am truly down another half pound (which I believe I am, because Saturday and Sunday I had the same weight as my post-constitutional weigh in this morning) it will just have to wait to be recorded until next week.

While I would like to visit with Patty, my lovely Weight Watchers leader that I no longer see because our boys are done with Cub Scouts, I choose to put my health first. I am not going to get into that stupid thinking pattern any more. If I went to a meeting, that stinking thinking would be back in a heartbeat. So I choose to set myself up for health instead.

~~~
The toilet monster is a funny little joke my son played on me a few years ago. He knows Mom heads straight for the bathroom first thing every morning, and he thought he was clever. He was, it was funny, even though I almost peed my pants ripping the monster off and out of the way. He snapped the photo himself. =)

Monday Morning Weigh-In

253

-1 pound!

Yay, I am so tired of those .5 losses!

29.5 total loss

I really didn't eat my emotions! =)

Weekend Review

I needed a break. I have never gone this long without blogging!

Friday night: I had a cry from the bottom of my soul. I cried for a couple hours. I so needed to do that. The thoughts popping in my mind as I just let everything out consisted of more than I realized I was upset about. I cried for my Dad, I cried for the loss of family that his death brought. I cried over my son's diagnosis of epilepsy. I cried over my old dog that died a year and a half ago. I cried over my uterus that has given me grief my whole life after puberty. I cried because my husband just didn't understand (and darned tootin' I set him straight) that I was scared. I cried because I was sick of pain. There's more, but those are the biggies.

Saturday? I felt human again. I cannot believe what that did to restore me. Our town was having its summer festival. We went. I was in a lot of pain so the boys would go off and do things. It was so nice sitting in the sun, though. That night we went to the parade. I love a parade. I love that there is a 3M plant where we live and every year they give out awesome things from their float. I got six sponges and two stick-it notepads this year. Cool. I like that as much as kids like candy. My son got 3 pounds of candy. I weighed the bag on the scale. 3 pounds--wow. It was mostly Tootsie Rolls, so I know his dad will help him eat it. I'm glad I don't like Tootsie Rolls.

I have decided to not exercise formally until after I speak with the doctor. It was just too painful, and when there's something wrong, I think it's best to let it be. I did do a lot of walking Saturday, but rested when I needed to. It wasn't sustained like regular exercise.

I feel renewed. YAY

I have not read blogs for awhile--I've skimmed a few, but I just didn't have anything to give to anyone. I love to read and give comments, but I just needed to hibernate, become the recluse I am. So once again, I'm very behind.

I am in a better place now, back where I belong.

One NSV I had this weekend: We went to Subway for lunch. I think this was the first time ever that I got a 6 inch and not a foot long. And even though I could have eaten a foot long, I was satisfied with the 6 inch. Wow. My foot only swelled a little from that, which is another NSV.

I think I had a breakthrough. I talk about not eating my feelings, but I think I really experienced that this weekend. I mean I haven't been eating the feelings, but i hadn't really been feeling the emotions in depth, fully. Friday when I cried, I did. Wow.

Two steps forward.

Menu Planning Week 18

1-Crockpot Cheeseburgers (Always on the menu!), Salad, Baked Fries
2-Baked Ziti, Salad, Bread
3-Cola Chicken, Brown Rice, Salad
4-Steamed Chicken, Noodles, Salad
5-Nachos: refried bean, sour cream, ground beef, baked tostitos, small portion of nacho cheese, salsa...i just weigh and count what I want
6- Steak, Twice Baked Potatoes, salad
7-Burgers, Baked Fries, Salad

(In no particular order!)