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I’m a bit concerned.  My pulmonologist has discovered from a recent CAT scan, that I have sinus problems.  He’s prescribed Augmentin (a horse pill) and Prednisone.  Prednisone is a steroid and is likely to cause me to become very hungry.  I have been told that it may also cause me to retain water.  So it’s likely to inhibit, if not damage, my weight loss.  This is depressing, but I can take heart in the fact that I’ll be on the steroids only one week. 
 

The benefit in all this is that I gained a bit of knowledge.  I was previously told that we bypass patients must avoid NSAIDs.  I had no idea what they were.  But my brother educated me that NSAID means Non Steroidal Anti Inflammatory Drug.  Neither the Prednisone nor the Augmentin are NSAIDS. 
 

Of course, I informed my surgeon’s office about the prescriptions, and cleared it with him  before starting them.  I don’t want to do any damage to the Lean Pocket, y’know.  (Although I must admit that yesterday, I ate something that hadn’t cooled down enough, and it hurt like hell for a while.  Yeow!) 
 

I’m now down 33 pounds.  I weigh 224.6.  I have another 89.6 pounds to “goal,” although my real goal is to get into a size 7.  Realistically, I probably won’t lose the full 89.6 until after plastic surgery removes excess skin, so I have a “human goal” of losing 75 pounds instead of 89.  If I get down to 150 before plastics, I’ll be delighted. 
 

I’ve also been toying with the idea of an incredible present for me when I reach the 100-pound “century” mark.  I’d like to travel to Italy.  I want to see Rome, Venice and Florence, and I want to wear a nice bathing suit to swim in the Mediterranean.  That would be an awesome way to celebrate losing 100 pounds.  Heavens only knows whether I will be able to afford it, but it’s something to keep in mind.

Dad’s in the hospital, in ICU.  He was taken in yesterday morning and is on a respirator.  I think that if the doctors want to amputate his leg, or if his condition worsens, Mom is going to let the doctors pull the plug.  She’s talking about moving in with me, because she won’t be able to afford to live without his disability income.  Of course, I don’t want any of this to occur.  It will be a nightmare living with my mother.  I will never be able to have a normal relationship with a man ever again.  I’m only 42, and I date a lot.  Having my mother live in my 1124 square foot house with me will kill any social or sex life I ever hoped to have. 

I desperately want to eat.  This has been a very challenging couple of days for me.  I know that the hunger is “head hunger” and not legitimate bodily need, but my jaw is tense and in need of release.  I have been eating probably more than I should, but at least I’m getting protein, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. 

The good news is that I’m down 30 pounds now. Today, I put on my size 28 jeans, the ones I couldn’t fit into at one point.  I put on the jeans, and not only were they loose, I could pull them down straight over my hips, without unbuttoning or unzipping them.  THAT’S success. 

I did finally join the gym.  I could only afford to pay for the cheapest membership, which only allows me to use the facilities on Sundays, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.  But four days a week is better than none.  I’ve been doing 30 minutes on the treadmill and 15 minutes on the upright bike.  Then I treat myself to a dip in the jacuzzi.  I love going to this gym; it’s like a country club and my own private haven away from the stress of parents, my men, and the world.  That’s why it’s worth the money.  Maybe someday, I’ll be able to afford access to the facilities 7 days a week, but for now, I’m grateful for the four.

Today I did something very stupid.  I ate too fast, too much, and too heavy (chicken parmesan, pureed).  And I’m feeling it bigtime.  I feel like I’ve got a fist under my breastbone.  I stopped eating at 5 p.m., and here it is almost 10 p.m. and I’m still sore from it. 

What a huge mistake this was.  I probably will feel sore for a day or so.  I just hope I didn’t do damage.  But I did learn a very valuable lesson.

Finally, the scale is moving again.  I lost another 2 pounds.   

Yesterday, I went shopping.  I can no longer shop at Catherine’s; their clothes aren’t small enough.  I was able to put on a 0X there, and it fit, but I don’t know how long I’ll be at that size.  I had to buy new bras and they didn’t have one that fit.  I’m down 3 sizes but I’m up a cup size.  So I got new bras at Ross instead.  I’m thrilled that I won’t be able to shop at Catherine’s, but strangely, it’s bittersweet, too.  I’ve bought some beautiful career clothes there, and that store has been a godsend for so many years.  But I’m on to a whole new world of opportunities.  And now that the scale is once again on the move, I can breathe a sigh of relief.

Started the day with tuna, a good workout at the gym, 4 oz. of cottage cheese for lunch, and went to see my internist because my blood sugar has finally dipped down to 141, which is about half of what it was preoperatively.  The doc lowered the dosage of my diabetic meds.  This is what it’s all about!  This is why I did this surgery!  I’m on my way to kicking diabetes once and for all. 

I went out for French onion soup with a friend (she ate the cheese off the top!) and man, was it ever delicious.  I made sure to mash the onions up in my mouth before I swallowed them. 

Previously, when I went out with my family to the local Chinese restaurant, I took home the leftover wonton soup and froze it.  Today I thawed it out.  I took 2 of the wontons, some pieces of chicken breast, and some of the broth and pureed it with the stick blender.  Allow me to say on the record that mangled Chinese food ain’t so great.

Puree day!  I started the morning by frying up some ground beef, draining it, adding a little white vinegar and garlic powder, adding Ragu No Sugar Added sauce, and pulverizing it with a stick blender.  Even though I drained the meat well, I can definitely taste the fat.  It’s weird.  But at least there’s FLAVOR.  I am using my timer to wait 10 minutes between every spoonful, and then I will use it again to wait 30 minutes after I’m done before taking in any water.  I want to build this into a habit, so I don’t do damage to my “Lean Pocket.” 

Today, I tried on two pairs of pants sized 22 and they fit!  That means that although the scale hasn’t moved, my body is rearranging itself.  I was a size 26/28 pant at the time of surgery.   

Yesterday’s workout (treadmill only) left my abdomen feeling sore on the inside for a long while.  Maybe all the bouncing around?  I will have to try using my abdominal binder next time to see if it makes any difference. 

By mid morning, I was in pain.  Perhaps it was the meat.  Maybe it was too heavy on my “Lean Pocket.”  For lunch, I made a little tuna with Miracle Whip and tolerated it well.  I tried the beef again for dinner, because I needed the protein and still craved the flavor.  Pain started to return, so I threw the rest out.  The split pea soup is delicious, though, and doesn't seem to be causing any problems. 

I’ve noticed something interesting over the past few days.  My stomach is schizophrenic.  Each part of my stomach—the “Lean Pocket” and the “Old Bag”—each grumble, as if they’re talking to each other.  My “Lean Pocket” will make a noise, and then the “Old Bag” chimes in.  I imagine this must kind of be what it’s like to be pregnant with twins.  It’s awfully strange.

I got on the scale this morning and still there was no change.  This is frustrating, because I got a trial membership at a gym and did a light workout yesterday.  It was a light workout because I tried a recumbent bike and my thighs kept impacting my abdomen, causing me pain.  So I changed to a treadmill and that worked out much better for me.  I plan on going back to the gym today. 

Since the scale hasn’t shown any change for about 6 days now, I’m again putting the scale away for a week.  I will get on it again next Sunday. 

Other notes:

My brother turned me on to a warm drink that is heavenly.  It is the base for tortilla soup and my tastebuds went hog-wild when I tasted it.  It is one cup of V8, one cup of chicken broth, and the juice from a quarter of a lime.  It was a little much on my “Lean Pocket,” but the flavor was incredible.  This will be something I make again. 

Yesterday, I had a class towards earning my teaching credential.  One of my colleagues remarked, “Ila, you’ve lost a chin!”  If the scale isn’t moving, apparently the inches are, which I take heart in. 

Tomorrow I will be three weeks postop, and I will begin the puree stage.  I am planning on making my killer meat sauce and then pureeing it, so that I get good protein.  I am planning on making pea soup (Anderson’s split pea soup has no lumps, no fat, no sugars, and 9 gms of protein per cup.  I only pray that it tastes good!).  I’ve also been jonesing for eggplant parmesan, so I’m going to make some up and blenderize it as well.  I will have to start doing some calculations to make sure I get sufficient protein with the new diet.  But I can always supplement them with a shake if I need extra protein, I suppose.

For the past 4-5 days, I’ve been frustrated and depressed.  My weight stopped dropping.  In fact, some days it has been UP by one to two pounds.  Considering that I’m eating practically NOTHING, that’s maddening. 

Hard as it is, I’ve decided to put my scale away.  I am going to try to steel my nerves against pulling it out every morning to weigh myself, but I have to maintain my sanity and keep some perspective on all this.   

My goal will be to only get on the scale once a week.  So I’m deciding right now that my weigh day will be first thing when I wake up on Sundays, starting with this Sunday. 

On a positive note, my blood sugar levels are decreasing.  Whereas I was in the 265-280 range before surgery, I’m now in the 160-170 range this week.  I’m hoping to be off my diabetic meds within 2-3 weeks.  I met with my surgeon this past Tuesday, and he said that I can start to reduce the meds as I see the blood sugar levels decline, but to stay on the meds to promote healing for now.  I will see him again in 4 weeks. 

I’ve also spent the past several days looking into gym memberships.  I wonder whether, if I sign up and pay, I, like so many people out there, will be gung-ho for a few weeks and then slack off.  It’s not like I can just throw away money; I’m a teacher and we don’t make enough to be frivolous with it.  So I’m mulling this over.  Meanwhile, I try to get some decent walking in daily.  Not a 2-3 mile hike every day, but at least some walking around stores and malls to keep my circulation healthy during this healing process.

Recently, I read a post where someone referred to the remnant of stomach the surgeon left as “pouchie,” and I nearly hurled.  Worse, the poster was a male.  I’m not into cutesy, and while I say live and let live to any lifestyle where no one is getting hurt, I get the dry heaves when I hear grown men use the word, “pouchie.”  I get the dry heaves when ANYone uses the word, “pouchie,” come to think of it.

In fact, I bristle at the mere word “pouch.”  I hate that word.  I am not a marsupial.  I am not a kangaroo.  I am not a wallaby.  I do not have a pouch.  Please don’t tell me you have a pouch unless you carry your young in it. 

I am a bipedal mammal; and I do not hop or eat eucalyptus. Therefore, I hereby declare the remnant of my stomach hereinafter to be called a Lean Pocket.  And in a few months, my Lean Pocket will turn me into a Hot Pocket.

I'm feeling down dooby doo down down, comma comma.   

I know this is normal.   

Up until this point, other than being in pain and/or discomfort for the surgery, I was absolutely euphoric.  Now I feel like the honeymoon's over. 

Yesterday it started late in the day.  My gut hurt.  Then someone's post on the messageboard taught me that all this time, over the past 12 days since my surgery, I was supposed to be waiting 30 minutes after eating before taking in any water.  I started wondering whether I did damage to my pouch even during this liquid phase, by not having waited 30 minutes between taking in protein shakes and then drinking water.   

Then I became so depressed, thinking that I've gone and ruined my pouch.  I felt stupid.  To make matters worse, I didn't get in nearly enough water yesterday.  I drank about 32-40 ounces of water and took in about 65 grams of protein. 

It all seems so hard right now--getting in all my meds plus supplements (which my doctor says I have to treat like a meal and wait 10 minutes each time I take a pill or a part of a pill), getting in 2 ounces of liquid protein, waiting for water, getting in enough water, getting another 2 ounces of liquid protein, waiting for more water, etc.  It makes me wonder how in blazes I'm going to accomplish this during a normal workday when I go back to teaching in a few weeks. 

What's worse about this for me, is that down deep, we're talking about something as stupid as EATING, which comes naturally to every creature on the planet.  I mean, for chrissakes, I'm a highly educated woman; I'm no dummy.  But re-learning how to eat and how to drink is more of a challenge than I thought it would be.  And dammit, I hate feeling stupid. 

So my commitment for today is to try to take myself out of my blue funk. To accomplish this, I WILL do the following:

--I will measure time and I will measure amounts

--I will take all my meds and supplements

--I will treat myself to an at-home pampering with nice smelly stuff

--I will treat myself to a good laugh with a friend

--I will take a walk in the sunshine

--I will NOT get back on the scale again until tomorrow 

If I can accomplish this, I think I’ll feel much better.  At least I hope I will.