Today, I feel amazing. I woke up from some amazing dreams and realized it was afternoon. Oops. But I felt good. I actually *wanted* to take a shower. It wasn't an exhausting burden to me. Which it's been for about six months now. I *wanted* to go to the gym. And I got to. My back doesn't hurt today, which is amazing. It hurts every day without end, despite pain meds. But today, I feel good. I feel light again, on my feet. I feel as though I could be fine and I am optimistic. I am back to my usual self today!
I knuckled down and did 17:51 on the elliptical with a resistance of 5. I find that I do best when I close my eyes and step to the beat of the music. My workout mix has fast and slow songs, and they are on random, so that I do a good 2-4 minutes fast, then another 2-4 min slower. I just focus on the beat and my legs and the time passes. I breathe in for 4 beats, and out for 4 beats. Unless I am mouthing the words. Then all Hell breaks loose and I get out of breath. Although I couldn't do a full 20 min on the elliptical yet, my legs did not feel sandbaggy like they have for months. I felt the burn and not the sand in my legs. That. Felt. So. GOOD. And it's not because I have been going to the gym cuz I haven't been in almost 2 weeks. I randomly wake up feeling normal, before sinking back into a sandbaggy, mentally slow state again.
Then, the hand bike. There was no neuromuscular dysfunction! Even at a higher resistance than before (I usually stay at 5-6/10, but today I was at 7-8/10), I was able to keep the rpm at 80-90. I barely make it above 65 most days. Because there is something blocking the signal from going through. But to keep going for a full 12 minutes, so I could make up the time I lost on the elliptical, I ended up sticking to the beat of the music and not focusing on rpms. I made sure that I was feeling all the muscles go through all of the phases of rotation for the hand bike. I felt all the muscles moving, and remembered that it is a good idea to go slow sometimes so that you can build up muscles properly, and not just ream them with rapid movements all the time.
Then I did some weight machines....not as many as usual, because people were using the leg machines I needed and I simply didn't want to wait. I was sweating buckets and done with exercise. LOL
I think I convinced The Man to let us go bowling today, and maybe then the older Squiddo and I can play pool. He's already better than me and only 10 years old. Yikes.
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Friday, May 30, 2014
Pity Party Post
It's nobody's fault but my own. I feel so alone even surrounded by friends. Tonight, a whole group of people relocated across the bar for me, because I feel most comfortable next to the DJ. This was an obscenely kind act. I sing with a group of people between 10-13 years my junior. And they still feel inclined to help my anxiety by sitting near me so I can be included. At the start of the night, I am in awe of my friends. And I feel so loved. A little anxious because I'm the reason they moved, but they offered and I said, 'only if you want to.'
But then I end the night depressed and feeling alone. Why? Because I am dumb. And ugly. And fat. And I will never be a girl men want to be around. I sit at a table of six men and two women, one of which is me. The other is a beautiful, slender woman with nice legs and a small (but elegant) rack. A couple of the men act as though I'm a real person who exists. But the others don't seem to realize im there. They focus on the beauty. And who wouldn't want her attention? She's nice and sweet and only mildly self centered. She's perfect. And they all want her in some way.
I've never been wanted like that in public. At least, not by more than one person at a time. I envy her ability to make men buy her drinks and compliment her without even trying. Even as I type this, I see how absurd I sound and how dumb I am, but I want what she has. I hate that I want it. I love myself. I'm an amazing person. Why can't I be happy for her? Ugh.
I'm dumb. I know. But it's a visceral part of me. I was a swinger for seven years, off and on, and I had men clamoring for me online. But never in person. Never a random man. Because I am an acquired taste, or a specialty dish. Not everyone wants me. But I want to be wanted by everyone. I want to be in her shoes. And I hate that I want that.
And so I am invisible and alone in a group of people yet again, because I'm not pretty. *sigh*
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Fat Girl Cosplay
I actually did it - I cosplayed for the first time ever this past weekend! I have always had an affection for Harley Quinn, and although I am quite overweight, I feel as though she is my alter ego. She is smart, sexy, a little crazy, and passionate. All qualities I see in myself. But to be honest, being overweight is like having a physical deformity. It's an elephant in the room. *I* am the elephant in the room. HQ is lithe and curvacious because she is a gymnast. I am not. I am lumpy and bumpy. And I hear all sorts of stories about haters who will say anything just to hurt someone. Like, 'aren't you too fat for that outfit/character?'
Saturday, I went to the Comicpalooza in plain clothes. I saw some amazing cosplay and some obviously last-minute stuff. My costume was in between, so I knew I wouldn't be on either end of the spectrum. I didn't see any other fat Harleys, but I saw other overweight people pulling off other cosplays and so I knew I wouldn't be the only one. I was so excited, that we left early without really seeing anything because I HAD TO GET MY COSTUME ON.
Sunday morning, I got all dolled up as HQ. I have purple hair, and I tried to spray paint the tips red and black, but it didn't work. I put on white face makeup but had a slight reaction and so I had to remove it.
I had already created my mallet ages ago, before I ever decided to go to a comic con. I always knew I wanted to cosplay as Harley, so it made sense to me. I made it with a thick, dense foam rolled up and covered by a yoga mat. Then I pierced it with a knife and shoved a shovel handle into it. The mallet itself, without the handle, weighs under five pounds. Light as a MF feather, and durable as all shit. The handle adds weight, but the whole thing is under 15# and is easy to maneuver, as long as you have the room to do so.
The dress itself is a pattern I found in a Simplicity catalog and made it myself. Being that I am borderline dyslexic in all things, it was very hard for me to imagine which side was which and the fact that it turned out remotely like the pattern made me almost pee my pants in joy. The diamonds I placed on the dress were cut out from a pattern I saw online and used the paper from the printer as a pattern for the fabric.
I had Leg Avenue Plus Size tights, red and black striped of course.And instead of kick ass red and black boots or elf shoes, I wore my Harley Quinn Chucks. That's right. Beloved bought me HQ Converse for my birthday last year, and I wear them when I wanna feel especially cool.
my youngest squiddo also wanted to wear a costume, and so he went as a ghostbuster with an inflatable gun. It was so cute!! He also decided he wanted to play with my mask and mallet before we left, and since the mallet is nearly his size, I took pics. I swear he is just adorable. And I am not just saying that because I am his mom. I swear.
I was so scared and excited and my tummy was in knots as I walked the four blocks to the convention center from the parking lot. Would anyone notice me? It would be hard not to....but still. Would I get positive reviews or negative jeers? I spent all of Saturday telling every cosplayer I saw how much I loved their costume. Would I get the same?
It was a success. I walked around everywhere and got smiles and nods from people. Five people even asked to take my picture, which was HUGE for me! Random people think I did well enough to have my picture taken! OMG OMG OMG! I had hoped for more, but I don't blame them. Sunday I saw no fewer than six other Harleys, all of which had pristine, majorly complex costumes on lithe, skinny bodies. And I am practically in a mumu. Hah.
Anyway, it all turned out well. I can't help but thank all of the people who had gone before me as plus sized cosplayers. People who fought for the right to cosplay as whomever the fuck you want. The people who dealt with the negativity until the positivity and persistence of the cosplayers wiped them out. I am hoping that in Denver in two weeks that I have the same sort of response. I want to go there and have fun as Fat Harley. Some day I will go as regular Harley.....maybe even a cute Harley. Where I fit into the costumes made for normal sized people. But until then, I have a solid and Comicpalooza-approved Harley costume that fits. :)
Saturday, I went to the Comicpalooza in plain clothes. I saw some amazing cosplay and some obviously last-minute stuff. My costume was in between, so I knew I wouldn't be on either end of the spectrum. I didn't see any other fat Harleys, but I saw other overweight people pulling off other cosplays and so I knew I wouldn't be the only one. I was so excited, that we left early without really seeing anything because I HAD TO GET MY COSTUME ON.
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| SELFIE! HAAAAY! |
Sunday morning, I got all dolled up as HQ. I have purple hair, and I tried to spray paint the tips red and black, but it didn't work. I put on white face makeup but had a slight reaction and so I had to remove it.
I had already created my mallet ages ago, before I ever decided to go to a comic con. I always knew I wanted to cosplay as Harley, so it made sense to me. I made it with a thick, dense foam rolled up and covered by a yoga mat. Then I pierced it with a knife and shoved a shovel handle into it. The mallet itself, without the handle, weighs under five pounds. Light as a MF feather, and durable as all shit. The handle adds weight, but the whole thing is under 15# and is easy to maneuver, as long as you have the room to do so.
The dress itself is a pattern I found in a Simplicity catalog and made it myself. Being that I am borderline dyslexic in all things, it was very hard for me to imagine which side was which and the fact that it turned out remotely like the pattern made me almost pee my pants in joy. The diamonds I placed on the dress were cut out from a pattern I saw online and used the paper from the printer as a pattern for the fabric.I had Leg Avenue Plus Size tights, red and black striped of course.And instead of kick ass red and black boots or elf shoes, I wore my Harley Quinn Chucks. That's right. Beloved bought me HQ Converse for my birthday last year, and I wear them when I wanna feel especially cool.
my youngest squiddo also wanted to wear a costume, and so he went as a ghostbuster with an inflatable gun. It was so cute!! He also decided he wanted to play with my mask and mallet before we left, and since the mallet is nearly his size, I took pics. I swear he is just adorable. And I am not just saying that because I am his mom. I swear.
 |
| the young squid with a mallet |
I was so scared and excited and my tummy was in knots as I walked the four blocks to the convention center from the parking lot. Would anyone notice me? It would be hard not to....but still. Would I get positive reviews or negative jeers? I spent all of Saturday telling every cosplayer I saw how much I loved their costume. Would I get the same?
It was a success. I walked around everywhere and got smiles and nods from people. Five people even asked to take my picture, which was HUGE for me! Random people think I did well enough to have my picture taken! OMG OMG OMG! I had hoped for more, but I don't blame them. Sunday I saw no fewer than six other Harleys, all of which had pristine, majorly complex costumes on lithe, skinny bodies. And I am practically in a mumu. Hah.
 |
| my friend took this pic of me |
Confessions of a fat girl
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| ummm dude. you're backwards. |
CPS came to the house because someone reported me for 'medical neglect' of my children because they 'seem depressed' and 'come to school out of uniform and dirty.' My boys don't like school, but that doesn't make them depressed. And as there is no uniform, my boys are always in dress code and usually clean. Since the definition of a boy is noise with dirt on it, that is. They shower every other day and since they are prepubescent, that is totally fine. When they start smelling up the joint with their hormones and angst, they will shower daily.
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| for the record, my kids are free range. cage free. |
In two weeks, I leave for Colorado with the kids. I am going to the Denver Comic Con and then basically coming home so I can get started on my nutrition classes for the bariatric surgery. Three months of that, and I can get sliced and diced and put back together to avoid my duodenum. yay.
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Seriously Suicide
When I was in 7th grade, I lived in Fort Collins, CO. One of my research papers for advanced English class had to deal with a difficult subject that teenagers deal with on a daily basis. My friends chose topics like animal testing for makeup and learning to drive. I chose the topic of suicide. Being that this was back before the Age of Information, I dusted off psychology books and encyclopedias in the quiet and oddly dim library of Boltz Middle School. I took copious notes, and even went to the public library to pour over the tomes inside.
By 7th grade, I had contemplated suicide more than once, and I was curious as to how I could do it without hurting myself. I didn't actually want to commit suicide, at least I didn't think I did, but there was a certain glamour and morbid curiosity surrounding this enigma. My report ended up being relatively lighthearted and my conclusion was to not bother with suicide, because, should you fail (and lots of people fail), you will simply be worse off than you were to begin with. Pills bring about headaches and organ failure, if you don't tie the rope properly and place the knot in the proper position, you will just choke to death, and jumping from an overpass into traffic leaves you with broken bones and pain.
For whatever reason, suicide seems to be my shadow throughout this life that I live. The very title of my blog, transient empathy, came about because of my career and my Aspie abilities of hyperempathy. In order to survive a life so full of the grieving of others, I had to learn to let the empathy, the grief, the horrors that I encounter through others, flow through me instead of taking root and flourishing. I am able to feel when others are bottoming out and hopeless, and in what way. In this way, I am blessed with the desire to help those who have nothing else and nobody else to turn to. Unfortunately, I see the black despair in some that lead me to believe that they will eventually take their own lives.
In the early years of the new century, I was working at an emergency clinic in Colorado Springs, CO. We would have mandatory staff meetings every month, and at one staff meeting, the boss' wife came and did a talk on suicide. It appears a client of ours had gone home, at the age of only 17 years, and killed himself. Those who had encountered this young gentleman and his critically injured dog were in shock, and so the boss figured it was in our best interests to have a debriefing and informational meeting on the topic. I was not one who had met this young man and dog, and so I was left to absorb the shock and grief of those around me. But I also was able to gain some valuable insight into those who follow through with suicide.
From what I remember, the client in question had just lost his parents in a tragic vehicle accident. He was living with this grandparents, whom he didn't get along with, and his little dog was his only beloved family member. The pup had been attacked by a larger dog, and was on the brink of death when it came through the door. My intrepid coworkers were able to keep the poor thing alive and as comfortable as possible throughout the night, and transferred the pet to the primary care vet in the morning. Unfortunately, at the primary care vet, the patient gave up the ghost and died shortly after arrival. There had really been nothing anyone could do, but because my dear coworkers saw that this young man had nothing left, they tried their best. His grandparents spared no expense, as this dog was the only link their grandson had left to his prior life. The young man, stricken with grief, abandoned his grandparents at the vet clinic, went home, and promptly shot himself to death. His grandparents came home not ten minutes later to find him gone.
I have lost people close to me abruptly, and so I can imagine the pain my coworkers must have felt. Seeing his heartache, meeting him, comforting him, and then knowing he was gone was just too much for some. The boss' wife mentioned that there had been numerous red flags in this case that alerted her to the possibility of him taking his own life (in retrospect, of course). First of all, he was male. Men attempt suicide more frequently than women. Second, he was a teenager. we all know how teenage hormones and angst get to us, and how confusing it all can be. Third, he had just lost his parents to a traumatic event. And fourth, he lost his one remaining bit of normalcy when his dog passed away.
She then taught us what to look for, and warning signs of clients who may be suicidal. Being that emergency vets work in a high stress environment, and pets are beloved family members, we tend to encounter more grieving and potentially suicidal people than many other career paths.
The first thing we look at is how the person is acting, and more specifically what they are saying. Grieving people do not usually say, "I have nothing left to live for" or, "s/he was my only lifeline." In these cases, we need to go forward and ask if the person has someone who can come and be with them during this troubling time. People who have a support structure of friends and family do not usually do not attempt suicide. Contacting a loved one and alerting them to the situation can frequently halt the downward spiral of emotion simply by allowing that person to get a hug, or a conversation, or just companionship. The age of a person is also a factor. Younger people tend to attempt suicide more than older people. And then again, whether there have been other traumatic events in their life.
The biggest thing to remember, however, is that those who are set on committing suicide will do so, no matter what you say or do. If someone has any doubt that they want to die, you can usually arrange things so that they are talked out of it. But for those intent on ending their life, they will succeed, and there is nothing that you would have been able to do. This is what I have to remember.
Last year, I got a facebook message from an acquaintance. He told me that a friend had been taken to the ER and to pray for her. It turns out, she had taken her own life and this acquaintance, her best friend, had found her and called 911. I had just spoken to her a week prior. She showed no signs of being suicidal. She had so much to live for. She had friends and a son that she loved more than life itself. I went to see her in the hospital, after she had been resuscitated. She was brain dead. I had to say goodbye to her while she was in a permanent state of tremors. As the tears rolled down my face, and I brushed her leaf-and-dirt-encrusted hair behind her ear, the only thing I could do to console myself was to remember what I learned that day back in the veterinary ER staff meeting. Suicidal people can be tricky and fool everyone around them. And ultimately, there was nothing I could do.
Humans can take a major beating, emotionally. Most humans, anyway. I have seen a lot of grief and a lot of trauma and an insane amount of people at their worst.
I once met a woman who brought in her two dogs, both had been hit by a car. Her fiance had been killed a year prior, and they had adopted these dogs together. They were her final attachment to the memory and life she had shared with the man she loved. Neither dog survived, and so she spent the entire night curled up with her deceased dogs in the exam room because she simply couldn't let go sooner. She was able to leave in the morning, after grieving all night at the clinic. It broke my heart.
Another woman brought in her Labrador and it turned out that he had cancer. It was aggressively malignant, and as the woman was deciding whether or not to start treatment when her dog became agonal. He began to gasp for breath and she screamed louder than anyone I had ever heard before. I rushed into the exam room, and she had flung herself into a wall, scared of the agonal breathing, and collapsed on the floor, still screaming. Fortunately, she had friends with her and they helped me pick her up and get her to a sink where she projectile vomited for a few minutes before approving euthanasia to allow her dog's passing to be calmer.
I have seen widows and widowers bringing me their pets that had belonged to their beloved spouse for treatment. I have consoled children and adults, in words they can understand and emotions they can feel. It's as if I am trying to make up karmic points so that I never have to go through seeing my loved ones deal with a suicide ever again. I dunno. I have been wanting to get all this out for some time. I know it isn't a happy or impressive blog post. I hope somebody makes it this far. I still think about suicide on a regular basis, and I don't know why. I won't ever try it on myself. Perhaps I am being prepared for a future in which a loved one takes their own life. Or maybe I took mine in a previous life. UGH ok I am done. Thanks for reading.
By 7th grade, I had contemplated suicide more than once, and I was curious as to how I could do it without hurting myself. I didn't actually want to commit suicide, at least I didn't think I did, but there was a certain glamour and morbid curiosity surrounding this enigma. My report ended up being relatively lighthearted and my conclusion was to not bother with suicide, because, should you fail (and lots of people fail), you will simply be worse off than you were to begin with. Pills bring about headaches and organ failure, if you don't tie the rope properly and place the knot in the proper position, you will just choke to death, and jumping from an overpass into traffic leaves you with broken bones and pain.
For whatever reason, suicide seems to be my shadow throughout this life that I live. The very title of my blog, transient empathy, came about because of my career and my Aspie abilities of hyperempathy. In order to survive a life so full of the grieving of others, I had to learn to let the empathy, the grief, the horrors that I encounter through others, flow through me instead of taking root and flourishing. I am able to feel when others are bottoming out and hopeless, and in what way. In this way, I am blessed with the desire to help those who have nothing else and nobody else to turn to. Unfortunately, I see the black despair in some that lead me to believe that they will eventually take their own lives.
In the early years of the new century, I was working at an emergency clinic in Colorado Springs, CO. We would have mandatory staff meetings every month, and at one staff meeting, the boss' wife came and did a talk on suicide. It appears a client of ours had gone home, at the age of only 17 years, and killed himself. Those who had encountered this young gentleman and his critically injured dog were in shock, and so the boss figured it was in our best interests to have a debriefing and informational meeting on the topic. I was not one who had met this young man and dog, and so I was left to absorb the shock and grief of those around me. But I also was able to gain some valuable insight into those who follow through with suicide.
From what I remember, the client in question had just lost his parents in a tragic vehicle accident. He was living with this grandparents, whom he didn't get along with, and his little dog was his only beloved family member. The pup had been attacked by a larger dog, and was on the brink of death when it came through the door. My intrepid coworkers were able to keep the poor thing alive and as comfortable as possible throughout the night, and transferred the pet to the primary care vet in the morning. Unfortunately, at the primary care vet, the patient gave up the ghost and died shortly after arrival. There had really been nothing anyone could do, but because my dear coworkers saw that this young man had nothing left, they tried their best. His grandparents spared no expense, as this dog was the only link their grandson had left to his prior life. The young man, stricken with grief, abandoned his grandparents at the vet clinic, went home, and promptly shot himself to death. His grandparents came home not ten minutes later to find him gone.
I have lost people close to me abruptly, and so I can imagine the pain my coworkers must have felt. Seeing his heartache, meeting him, comforting him, and then knowing he was gone was just too much for some. The boss' wife mentioned that there had been numerous red flags in this case that alerted her to the possibility of him taking his own life (in retrospect, of course). First of all, he was male. Men attempt suicide more frequently than women. Second, he was a teenager. we all know how teenage hormones and angst get to us, and how confusing it all can be. Third, he had just lost his parents to a traumatic event. And fourth, he lost his one remaining bit of normalcy when his dog passed away.
She then taught us what to look for, and warning signs of clients who may be suicidal. Being that emergency vets work in a high stress environment, and pets are beloved family members, we tend to encounter more grieving and potentially suicidal people than many other career paths.
The first thing we look at is how the person is acting, and more specifically what they are saying. Grieving people do not usually say, "I have nothing left to live for" or, "s/he was my only lifeline." In these cases, we need to go forward and ask if the person has someone who can come and be with them during this troubling time. People who have a support structure of friends and family do not usually do not attempt suicide. Contacting a loved one and alerting them to the situation can frequently halt the downward spiral of emotion simply by allowing that person to get a hug, or a conversation, or just companionship. The age of a person is also a factor. Younger people tend to attempt suicide more than older people. And then again, whether there have been other traumatic events in their life.
The biggest thing to remember, however, is that those who are set on committing suicide will do so, no matter what you say or do. If someone has any doubt that they want to die, you can usually arrange things so that they are talked out of it. But for those intent on ending their life, they will succeed, and there is nothing that you would have been able to do. This is what I have to remember.
Last year, I got a facebook message from an acquaintance. He told me that a friend had been taken to the ER and to pray for her. It turns out, she had taken her own life and this acquaintance, her best friend, had found her and called 911. I had just spoken to her a week prior. She showed no signs of being suicidal. She had so much to live for. She had friends and a son that she loved more than life itself. I went to see her in the hospital, after she had been resuscitated. She was brain dead. I had to say goodbye to her while she was in a permanent state of tremors. As the tears rolled down my face, and I brushed her leaf-and-dirt-encrusted hair behind her ear, the only thing I could do to console myself was to remember what I learned that day back in the veterinary ER staff meeting. Suicidal people can be tricky and fool everyone around them. And ultimately, there was nothing I could do.
Humans can take a major beating, emotionally. Most humans, anyway. I have seen a lot of grief and a lot of trauma and an insane amount of people at their worst.
I once met a woman who brought in her two dogs, both had been hit by a car. Her fiance had been killed a year prior, and they had adopted these dogs together. They were her final attachment to the memory and life she had shared with the man she loved. Neither dog survived, and so she spent the entire night curled up with her deceased dogs in the exam room because she simply couldn't let go sooner. She was able to leave in the morning, after grieving all night at the clinic. It broke my heart.
Another woman brought in her Labrador and it turned out that he had cancer. It was aggressively malignant, and as the woman was deciding whether or not to start treatment when her dog became agonal. He began to gasp for breath and she screamed louder than anyone I had ever heard before. I rushed into the exam room, and she had flung herself into a wall, scared of the agonal breathing, and collapsed on the floor, still screaming. Fortunately, she had friends with her and they helped me pick her up and get her to a sink where she projectile vomited for a few minutes before approving euthanasia to allow her dog's passing to be calmer.
I have seen widows and widowers bringing me their pets that had belonged to their beloved spouse for treatment. I have consoled children and adults, in words they can understand and emotions they can feel. It's as if I am trying to make up karmic points so that I never have to go through seeing my loved ones deal with a suicide ever again. I dunno. I have been wanting to get all this out for some time. I know it isn't a happy or impressive blog post. I hope somebody makes it this far. I still think about suicide on a regular basis, and I don't know why. I won't ever try it on myself. Perhaps I am being prepared for a future in which a loved one takes their own life. Or maybe I took mine in a previous life. UGH ok I am done. Thanks for reading.
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Pets With Allergies
Let's face it. We all want what is best for our pets. And that means giving them the highest quality food we can afford, and all the love One can possibly squeeze into the years we have with our beloved fur-babies. Lately a lot of canine and feline diets are becoming gluten-free or grain-free. And the manufacturers are touting that they are the best kind of diets for your pet. It all seems simple - wild dogs and cats eat meat, thereby we need to give our pets meat. Lots of meat. All sorts of meat! The truth is, many pet allergies are not caused by gluten or grains. It is caused by the proteins in the meats we are providing.
Signs of a pet who is suffering from food allergies is not always straightforward. Chronic ear infections can be a sign of a food allergy, as can itchy skin and alopecia (loss of hair/bald spots). Flea allergies usually manifest along the back of your pet and the base of the tail. Seasonal allergies usually result in itchy, watery eyes and a swollen throat (which you will notice because Fido will start snoring). Chewing on paws and swollen feet can also be a sign of allergies. A more severe food allergy can cause vomiting and even diarrhea or a major gastrointestinal malfunction. It all depends on how your individual pet reacts internally to the allergens present in meals.
It is vitally important to allow your pet's doctor to run tests to rule out other causes of the signs. If there is hair loss, the vet will do skin scrapings to rule out lice and mites, and blood tests to check for metabolic problems such as Cushing's Disease. For chronic ear infections, the vet will do ear cytologies (look at the ear gunk under a microscope) to see if the ear gook is primarily yeast or bacterial based. If antibiotics and potentially steroids don't help, the vet will move on to blood work to see if there are other inflammatory processes going on.
With vomiting, diarrhea, and more severe GI issues (like protein-losing enteropathies), the main signs of a direct allergy from food, your vet will need to check for and rule out other underlying issues. X-rays and blood work are the cornerstones of this diagnosis. First, the vet will look at basic bloodwork to rule out pancreatitis, liver and kidney diseases, and other dysfunctions of the GI tract. X-rays will rule out potential 'foreign bodies', which are things your pet may have ingested that are not digestable (socks, underwear, lightbulbs, rubber duckies...). Usually, the vet will then put your pet on a bland diet. This bland diet is quite literally chicken and rice and broth all blended into one pasty glop. You can even make it at home, if you are so inclined.
The bland diet probably won't work if your pet has a nasty food allergy, however, because again, food allergies are frequently protein allergies. At this point, the vet will likely recommend a hypoallergenic diet containing hydrolized proteins. Hydrolized proteins are basically regular proteins that have been broken down already into their small amino acid componants. This is intended to help the pet digest the food easier and not have such a reaction to the proteins.
Diet changes can take a while to see results. The GI tract can take a while to calm down after allergens piss it off because it won't get time to rest properly. Nutrition is an important part of staying alive, and so the GI tract has to work through the pain. So diets may take a week or more to start working for your pet. If the hydrolized proteins don't make your pet feel better, or if your pet won't eat it, there are novel protein diets that can be prescribed. These diets contain other types of meat proteins such as venison and duck along with potatoes and peas. And if even these diets don't work, the University of Tennessee has a whole nutritional program that will formulate a diet specifically for your pet. I knew a sweet little Maltese with a protein-losing enteropathy who was being fed mahi-mahi and greens every day - and it worked for her!
There is a way to test your pet for all sorts of allergies, much like the human serum and skin tests. It is time and financially intensive, but it may be worth it. Either your vet can send in a lot of blood to a pet allergy lab, or you can schedule an appointment with a pet dermatologist to have a dermal test run. This is when the doctor and tech take known allergens and inject them into the skin layer and watch for a reaction. In this case, your pet will be half naked for a month or so until the fur grows back, but it is worth it to know what to avoid.
Common medications for allergies, whether food or otherwise, include steroids, allergy medicine (Benadryl or other seasonal medications as per your vet), and GI protectants to help calm the inflammation. Steroids are usually tapered off so as not to shock your pet's system into a disease called an Addisonian Crisis. NEVER EVER discontinue steroids without consulting and approval by your vet. It can literally kill your pet if steroids are abruptly stopped.
You can see there are lots of ways to help your pet live a better life, even if s/her has allergies. And purchasing diets with more meat protein may not ultimately make your pet healthier. Even wild cats and dogs munch on grasses to supplement their meals. Pay attention to your fur-baby and if anything seems out of the ordinary, take your pet to the vet. Believe it or not, that's what they're there for.
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| Helpful Info |
It is vitally important to allow your pet's doctor to run tests to rule out other causes of the signs. If there is hair loss, the vet will do skin scrapings to rule out lice and mites, and blood tests to check for metabolic problems such as Cushing's Disease. For chronic ear infections, the vet will do ear cytologies (look at the ear gunk under a microscope) to see if the ear gook is primarily yeast or bacterial based. If antibiotics and potentially steroids don't help, the vet will move on to blood work to see if there are other inflammatory processes going on.
With vomiting, diarrhea, and more severe GI issues (like protein-losing enteropathies), the main signs of a direct allergy from food, your vet will need to check for and rule out other underlying issues. X-rays and blood work are the cornerstones of this diagnosis. First, the vet will look at basic bloodwork to rule out pancreatitis, liver and kidney diseases, and other dysfunctions of the GI tract. X-rays will rule out potential 'foreign bodies', which are things your pet may have ingested that are not digestable (socks, underwear, lightbulbs, rubber duckies...). Usually, the vet will then put your pet on a bland diet. This bland diet is quite literally chicken and rice and broth all blended into one pasty glop. You can even make it at home, if you are so inclined.
The bland diet probably won't work if your pet has a nasty food allergy, however, because again, food allergies are frequently protein allergies. At this point, the vet will likely recommend a hypoallergenic diet containing hydrolized proteins. Hydrolized proteins are basically regular proteins that have been broken down already into their small amino acid componants. This is intended to help the pet digest the food easier and not have such a reaction to the proteins.
Diet changes can take a while to see results. The GI tract can take a while to calm down after allergens piss it off because it won't get time to rest properly. Nutrition is an important part of staying alive, and so the GI tract has to work through the pain. So diets may take a week or more to start working for your pet. If the hydrolized proteins don't make your pet feel better, or if your pet won't eat it, there are novel protein diets that can be prescribed. These diets contain other types of meat proteins such as venison and duck along with potatoes and peas. And if even these diets don't work, the University of Tennessee has a whole nutritional program that will formulate a diet specifically for your pet. I knew a sweet little Maltese with a protein-losing enteropathy who was being fed mahi-mahi and greens every day - and it worked for her!There is a way to test your pet for all sorts of allergies, much like the human serum and skin tests. It is time and financially intensive, but it may be worth it. Either your vet can send in a lot of blood to a pet allergy lab, or you can schedule an appointment with a pet dermatologist to have a dermal test run. This is when the doctor and tech take known allergens and inject them into the skin layer and watch for a reaction. In this case, your pet will be half naked for a month or so until the fur grows back, but it is worth it to know what to avoid.
Common medications for allergies, whether food or otherwise, include steroids, allergy medicine (Benadryl or other seasonal medications as per your vet), and GI protectants to help calm the inflammation. Steroids are usually tapered off so as not to shock your pet's system into a disease called an Addisonian Crisis. NEVER EVER discontinue steroids without consulting and approval by your vet. It can literally kill your pet if steroids are abruptly stopped.
You can see there are lots of ways to help your pet live a better life, even if s/her has allergies. And purchasing diets with more meat protein may not ultimately make your pet healthier. Even wild cats and dogs munch on grasses to supplement their meals. Pay attention to your fur-baby and if anything seems out of the ordinary, take your pet to the vet. Believe it or not, that's what they're there for.
Saturday, May 17, 2014
Bad Day
I am having a bad day physically today. I woke up fine, after sleeping most of yesterday because I was exhausted for some reason. But I feel like I have sandbag legs again today, and moving takes more effort than usual. I was hoping that, since I am going to the gym and using all of my muscle groups, that I would not have to deal with this pain again. My lower back hurts, and just walking to the neighbor's house two doors down and back took forever. And I got winded. I expect that going to the gym even 4 days a week would afford me enough muscle buildup that I wouldn't experience these symptoms anymore. Especially since I don't seem to be as weak as I once thought I was.
I am so confused over all of this. I joined the gym to prove to myself that I didn't have an underlying neuromuscular disease. I am just fat and out of shape. How much time should I give myself before I think that I may have something else going on? Besides, of course, my CNS test coming back very slow/low. Oh well....I think the MRI company called to schedule a brain scan and I missed the call. Gonna have to call back Monday.
Also, I have to get Tom Baker fixed Monday and Penelope has a recall on her ignition switch I have to get fixed asap.....the poor cars. They're in as bad a shape as I am.
I am so confused over all of this. I joined the gym to prove to myself that I didn't have an underlying neuromuscular disease. I am just fat and out of shape. How much time should I give myself before I think that I may have something else going on? Besides, of course, my CNS test coming back very slow/low. Oh well....I think the MRI company called to schedule a brain scan and I missed the call. Gonna have to call back Monday.
Also, I have to get Tom Baker fixed Monday and Penelope has a recall on her ignition switch I have to get fixed asap.....the poor cars. They're in as bad a shape as I am.
Friday, May 16, 2014
Gym Day Four
I have sucked at starting at the gym. I've officially been a member for a week, and I have only gone 4 days. I am kind of pissed at myself, but I am also confident I will go more next week. I am so out of shape that I am sore each day after I go.
I did more cardio this time, starting with elliptical for 15 minutes, hand bike for 10 minutes, and the rowing machine for 5 minutes. The rowing machines are right next to a huge mirror, so I got to watch my marshmallow-shaped self row. And row. And row. I looked absurd, but I also looked as though I was working out. And that sucker works you out! Legs and arms and back. I didn't do any better on the hand bike, this time maxing out at 70 rpm. It's just an awkward machine, where I get to avoid my giant boobs every rotation.
I ended up doing the TRX, in which I use my own weight against me. I do upside-down pushups and right side up assisted squats. My heart rate, for the full 50 min I was at the gym, was within my fat-burning range.
So I guess that's it. Not a very interesting gym trip.
I did more cardio this time, starting with elliptical for 15 minutes, hand bike for 10 minutes, and the rowing machine for 5 minutes. The rowing machines are right next to a huge mirror, so I got to watch my marshmallow-shaped self row. And row. And row. I looked absurd, but I also looked as though I was working out. And that sucker works you out! Legs and arms and back. I didn't do any better on the hand bike, this time maxing out at 70 rpm. It's just an awkward machine, where I get to avoid my giant boobs every rotation.
I ended up doing the TRX, in which I use my own weight against me. I do upside-down pushups and right side up assisted squats. My heart rate, for the full 50 min I was at the gym, was within my fat-burning range.
So I guess that's it. Not a very interesting gym trip.
Thursday, May 15, 2014
Initial Doctor Visit
Nervously, I went to go see the doctor/surgeon for the weight loss surgery. Going in, I knew I was going to have to do a three month diet plan (doctor supervised) for the insurance to pay for the procedure. Three years ago, I went to another surgeon to discuss the same things. I was afraid that this place was going to be the same - cookie cutter talks from the surgeon, pressuring for surgery. This was not the case.
I saw Dr Primomo at The Davis Clinic in Memorial City, TX. The lobby itself was vastly different from my prior experience, and I was instantly comforted. The colors were all natural and soothing, and the chairs and benches available were all made for larger people. The front desk ladies were sweet and had no problem rechecking my insurance, as I had reached my deductible since they had last checked. Instead of a $230 office visit, I paid $23 because of that. *whew* The ladies up front had also taken the time to email me a few times before my appointment, and I had my paperwork ready. I had also listened to a webinar that Dr Primomo had done, so I was up to date on what he offered and how to use the surgery as a tool for weight loss. I was also very impressed at the detail he went into, and how he made the vast array of information available in bite sized pieces for laypersons.
Dr Primomo was just as awesome in person as he was in the webinar. He asked me questions about myself, listened to my concerns and hopes and history of diet and exercise. He comforted me in that he said that once a body has been at a high BMI for so long, the body will do anything to stay there, and so diet and exercise won't work as well. Since I have been overweight since I was 12, it certainly explains a lot. In addition to having the polycystic ovarian disease and insulin resistance, of course. He assured me that the weight WILL come off, and it will be up to me to keep it off. He explained that the way the RNY surgery is done, it bypasses the entire Duodenum and attaches straight to the Jejunum, which for some reason (hasn't been figured out yet) cures diabetes, insulin resistance, and the basic fat-related inflammatory process that makes the body hold onto the fat. I have a hypothesis on that, in that it's because it bypasses the pancreas and bile duct, which is where fats and proteins are broken down.....but that's just me.
Unfortunately, due to insurance, I have to wait 30 days from my initial consult with the surgeon to start seeing the nutritionist and getting my supervised diet started. So the earliest I can have surgery is sometime in September, presuming everything goes well. That means that the kids will be back in school by the time I bite the bullet and need rest and a special diet. And by Christmas, maybe I will be small enough to fit in an airline seat without spilling over to the next one....
I saw Dr Primomo at The Davis Clinic in Memorial City, TX. The lobby itself was vastly different from my prior experience, and I was instantly comforted. The colors were all natural and soothing, and the chairs and benches available were all made for larger people. The front desk ladies were sweet and had no problem rechecking my insurance, as I had reached my deductible since they had last checked. Instead of a $230 office visit, I paid $23 because of that. *whew* The ladies up front had also taken the time to email me a few times before my appointment, and I had my paperwork ready. I had also listened to a webinar that Dr Primomo had done, so I was up to date on what he offered and how to use the surgery as a tool for weight loss. I was also very impressed at the detail he went into, and how he made the vast array of information available in bite sized pieces for laypersons.
Dr Primomo was just as awesome in person as he was in the webinar. He asked me questions about myself, listened to my concerns and hopes and history of diet and exercise. He comforted me in that he said that once a body has been at a high BMI for so long, the body will do anything to stay there, and so diet and exercise won't work as well. Since I have been overweight since I was 12, it certainly explains a lot. In addition to having the polycystic ovarian disease and insulin resistance, of course. He assured me that the weight WILL come off, and it will be up to me to keep it off. He explained that the way the RNY surgery is done, it bypasses the entire Duodenum and attaches straight to the Jejunum, which for some reason (hasn't been figured out yet) cures diabetes, insulin resistance, and the basic fat-related inflammatory process that makes the body hold onto the fat. I have a hypothesis on that, in that it's because it bypasses the pancreas and bile duct, which is where fats and proteins are broken down.....but that's just me.
Unfortunately, due to insurance, I have to wait 30 days from my initial consult with the surgeon to start seeing the nutritionist and getting my supervised diet started. So the earliest I can have surgery is sometime in September, presuming everything goes well. That means that the kids will be back in school by the time I bite the bullet and need rest and a special diet. And by Christmas, maybe I will be small enough to fit in an airline seat without spilling over to the next one....
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Day Three At The Gym
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| It's looking amazing |
So today is the day I got to take all of my trainer's advice and stuff and put it to the test. I hopped on a treadmill and popped a 7 incline (dunno what that means) at just over 2 mph. Now, I prefer the elliptical because it doesn't make my back spasm, but the trainer prefers me on the treadmill and so here I go. After five minutes, I am sorry to say, my heart rate was 160 and I was sweating. But I stayed on the treadmill for 20+ minutes before my legs went numb and I had to stop. Then I moved onto the hand bike for upper body workout. I managed to do almost 20 min on that, but the trainer wanted me to aim for 100 rpm. I averaged 78rpm. I wonder if this is due to being out of shape or due to me having CNS deficits. I felt as though I COULD go faster but my body was refusing. We shall see how many rpm I can do by the end of the week. Also, my hands and forearms went numb doing the hand bike.....I wonder if that means anything? It is added to my pool of data I will pull from later on to check progress.
So I did 20 min each of upper and lower body cardio. Not bad for how out of shape I am, I suppose. Moving on to the machines....
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| take THAT, Mistah J! |
I forgot completely about stretching all the ways he had me stretch. FUCK. I knew I was missing something. And I skipped the leg press because it's on the floor and I can't get up without help....or looking like an idiot.
I also had to forgo the crossfit training, as there was someone on the machine being trained the entire time I was at the gym. However, that leaves me some workouts to do tomorrow when I go back.
My favorite machine is one that strengthens my core. It also stretches out my lower back muscles, which spasm when I walk. I am hoping this machine can help me feel better on a daily basis, and allow me once again to carry laundry baskets and trash without crippling pain. My least favorite machine is the one that stretches my quads. Ow. With the crepidice in my knees from osteoarthritis, it is a necessary but evil machine.
Now that I am home, I need to help the kids clean their rooms and vacuum my own room. And kick their ass into homework gear. I'll write more later this week, maybe after the bariatric doctor appointment on Thursday.
Friday, May 9, 2014
I'm Just Fat
WOW I have never been so OUT of SHAPE in my LIFE. I mean, ROUND is a shape, but I am rather bumpy and not altogether round...and I don't have 'sides' like a polygon.....so perhaps I am just Fat Girl Shaped. Meh.
I got a good old fashioned Capricorn Bug up my Butt this past week and I have decided that I am joining a gym. I see the bariatric surgeon for a diet plan on the 15th, and I want to get a jump start on the exercise. So I went to a couple of gyms and ended up choosing the 24 Hour Fitness Sport that is under a mile from my house. I am about to get into my whole life's worth of attempted weight loss, so you will understand that I am ultimately serious when I say that I am out of shape. Very out of shape. As in I can't keep up a 2.7 mile/hour hoofing on a level 7 inclined treadmill for more than a minute without my heart rate shooting up to the 160s. I used to have to work out hard for 15 min before I saw the 160s. UGH.
My trainer, David, is adorable. He is 25 and very fit. He has a body fat of probably 15%, and these friendly blue eyes. And he used to be a bodybuilder. He showed me a pic of what he used to look like and I almost pissed myself. But he doesn't 'get' being fat. He went through all the machines and showed me how to do all the exercises that he recommends, and during the cool down stretches he was baffled that I was too fat to bring my knees all the way to my chest. Maybe if the procedure works and I get skinny, I will be a personal trainer strictly for the obese. Sheesh. But seriously. *SWOON* when it comes to David. Don't worry, everyone, he's married......so he's safe from my bubbly flirtatiousness. Bwahaha.
So I guess here I go with my own personal weight loss journey that has thusfar ended in utter failures. Keep in mind, though, that I am a pretty evenly keeled individual, and failure for me is just another word for learning something new. I like to say, 'I'm no bitch, I'm a scientist!' meaning that I don't freak out when I fail. I simply readjust my calculations and move ever forward. So please don't tell me to 'stay positive!' because I am already positive. I do appreciate the support, though, so feel free to encourage me any way you feel.
PUBERTY
Wow. I am putting in headings. I feel like it should be read the same way as the chick does in 'The Vagina Monologues'....
I honestly don't remember when I got my first period. I am pretty sure I was 13 and I am pretty sure I was terrified that Mother would find out and be disappointed in me. Or, worse, happy for me. I never wanted to get a period and I felt as though it was a punishment. Especially since I now had these fatty triangle shaped things hanging from my chest that required a bra. From what I remember, I was a pretty active kid. Basketball, swimming lessons, and softball took up the school years. And hiking up Rattlesnake Hill and playing on the sandstone sculptures took up the summers, when I wasn't playing Cheerleader or Unicorns in the back yard. I remember that was when I began to gain weight because I would do something like the Truffle Shuffle for my sisters - I would pull up my shirt and wiggle my flab around. My little sisters would laugh their skinny butts off.I knew something was odd with me because I didn't have a normal period. I didn't bleed 5 days out of the month. I bled all month, then had a couple days without hemorrhage. Mother told me to mark the days I bled on the calendar and so I did.....and although the proof was there, I honestly didn't think Mother would believe that I was hemorrhaging so badly. Somehow I told her and she believed me, though, because she took me to the doctor. And after a couple of years of them waffling about and saying I needed to stop eating so much....an endocrinologist. I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. Which, oddly enough, is only occasionally characterized by actually having cysts on the ovaries. I was told that I would have trouble losing weight, but I could lose weight with lots of effort and support. So I was placed on Oral Contraceptive Pills and sent to a nutritionist.
The nutritionist had me write down what I was eating and when, and it ended up that I wasn't overeating. So Mother took me to Weight Watchers. You know how embarassing it is to go to Weight Watchers at 16? I think we went to two meetings and then scrapped the idea. I was an active kid who didn't overeat. We decided to just see what happened.
HIGH SCHOOL
I have to say, I had the best friends in high school. I was part of a loving group of people who didn't ever seem to care that I was the biggest person in the group. At this point, I was over 200 lbs and still active as ever. I was in the marching band, pep band, cross country, and both of my elective classes for gym were aerobics. So five days a week, I wasn't only marching 8-to-5 on the football field before school, but I was doing 45 min of aerobics at the end of the day. And then I would manage the cross country team and walk over a mile home. I was in excellent shape, and still 214lbs.GRADUATION
After graduating high school, I no longer had an outlet for energy and I got a little lazy. Mother offered to get me a gym membership to a women's only gym called ShapeMakers when I was 19-20. I don't remember a lot about that gym except there wasn't a lot of equipment, and the aerobics classes were fun. After 8 months of that, though, I hadn't lost any weight and I quit. I was becoming frustrated with the stubbornness of my condition. I was about 220 lbs.MY TWENTIES
From age 20-23, I didn't do a whole lot, though for a short stint in college I ordered some weight loss pills from a late night tv ad and they worked (I lost 10 lbs in a month). But then I spilled them and they crumbled and I couldn't remember where I had gotten them. So I was back to square one (I think they ended up being dangerous and pulled from the market haha). I was focusing on my career as an EMT, then as a Veterinary Technician. I went through times when I was eating right and then times I was eating wrong. But when I moved to the Seattle area at the age of 23, I decided I was going to Kick Butt and Lose Weight. I had become about 260 lbs at that point, gaining 40 lbs in 3 years or so. I spoke to my doctor, who put me on the South Beach Diet before it was known as the South Beach Diet. She explained that it would 'shock my metabolism' into losing weight and even I could lose up to 20 lbs in the first two weeks. I was so excited. I cut out all grains and carbs and stuck to my guns for 6 straight weeks. At the time, I also had a wild and crazy dog I would take to the 100 acre dog park in Redmond, WA, and the local Clark Lake in Kent, WA. So I remained an active individual. I continued to lose no weight. The end of the six weeks was Thanksgiving. I decided to say, 'fuck it!' and I ate a normal Thanksgiving meal. Bread stuffing and all! It. Was. Delicious.
Four weeks later or so, on Christmas Eve, I found out I was pregnant. Turns out it was the diet that balanced my hormones into being fertile. Go me!! (Go us? The Man didn't do the diet with me...but he was a part of the baby making)
My 24th year went by with me simply being pregnant, doing prenatal yoga, and vomiting a lot while I was pregnant. I initially lost 20 lbs just from pregnancy-induced-bulemia, then gained it back and then some while my baby grew. When I had my first child, I was 270 or so. After he was born, I breastfed, which is supposed to be excellent for weight loss. Turns out my freaking BOOBS don't work. By 4 months of age, my son was practically emaciated and we gave supplemental formula. So I didn't even get breastfeeding benefits. And I tried all the stuff that was thrown at me - reglan, mother's milk tea, dark/stout beer, brewer's yeast, etc.
In my 25th year, I went on the South Beach Diet with the Man and my mother and father. the Man lost 14 lbs, Mother lost 12, and my dad also lost 12. In the first two weeks of Phase One. I lost nothing. Oh, and two months later I found out I was pregnant again. D'OH! I did the same thing with this pregnancy, only with major depression. Yoga, eating right, and attempted breastfeeding. My boobs don't work for anyone. By now, I have PPD. Bad. THe Man was a major help because I was so scared I would do something like drown the baby in the bath tub, so he gave the baby all his baths. But with the depression came anxiety. And it took me over a year to move past it. I believe the baby was 2 by the time I was satisfactorily past the major depression.
Between 26-30, I read all the articles about people who 'simply' did small things that ended up helping them. And I tried it. I decreased portion sizes. I walked everywhere. I did standing push-ups against the counter as I waited for the whole grain toast in the toaster, I parked at the back of the lot, I went to the mall just to walk around.....and when I turned 30, I was 290 lbs.
MY THIRTIES....NOW....
A few months before i turned 30, I decided to Eat Right again. I was an adult now, after all, and I needed to Finally Lose The Weight. I had been researching the LapBand and Gastric Bypass procedures and decided they were too risky to consider. Besides, I hadn't lost weight yet with just diet control alone, nor had I lost weight with exercise and diet, so I didn't want to Fail. I decided to eat a LapBand-esque diet. No/Low bread and carbs, high protein, extremely small and well-chewed portions. The Man also signed the family up for a YMCA membership, so I was working out a few times a week. I did this for two months from the first of November-December. In January, I approached my Primary Care Physician and said I wanted to do a doctor supervised diet and exercise plan. My doctor said that, if I don't lose a pound a week, I am doing something wrong. If that's the case, change it up. So I did. From january through April, I was at the gym 5 days a week, a minimum of an hour a day. Cardio and weights. Diet wise, if I didn't lose a pound a week, I was switching up. I did five 300 calorie meals a day, i did low carb, I did high carb, I did protein only, three 500 calorie meals a day, four 400 calorie meals a day.....etc. I even did some serious calorie cycling where I would eat 1000 calories one day and 2000 the next, then 700, then 1500, etc. At the end of this 6 month spiel, I had only lost 10 lbs. At this rate, it would take me 6-10 years of hard work and exercise to possibly reach my goal weight. I was depressed and heavily discouraged. I had just begun teaching in addition to working at the ER, and I had fewer hours in the day in which to work out. So I stopped going 5 days a week. And a few months later, I quit entirely. My work took up 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I hardly slept and I sent The Man and the kids away nightly so I would be able to focus on lecture writing.
Later that year, I was diagnosed with major depression and generalized anxiety disorder. I was put on medications that cause weight gain to balance my brain chemistry. How fun. Oh, yes, and a year later we made a major move to Houston.
Two years ago, almost exactly, I won a contest. I was going to be given a free 12 week spot with Quick Weight Loss Centers. I would be given all of the support from the counselors as well as all of the supplements and foods for free. How awesome is that? This was THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS WORTH of stuff given to me. for FREE. At 320lbs, THIS was my chance. And I was going to make it work! Within the first week of taking approximately 12 pills a day, with three meals and two snacks, I had lost 12 lbs. WOW. Now THIS is results!! And then I began to vomit. A lot. And always right after I ate. For two or three weeks, I vomited violently after I ate anything. And the thing is, I wasn't hungry. So I simply stopped eating for two weeks. I took the supplements with no problem, but no solid or liquid foods. I would try, once or twice a day, to eat something. But my body would have none of it. So I stopped all the supplements and within a week, I was able to eat again. But I was too scared to try the supplements back one at a time. The vomiting was very painful and violent, and I wasn't ready to go back to it. I had fallen so far behind in the contest I was in that I never could have won, and so I bowed out. I was 308 lbs.I quickly gained that weight back when I started eating again, and by the time I left my job as a vet tech last August (18 months after QWLC), I was 325 lbs. I was in a massive funk after leaving my job and becoming a stay at home mom. I never exercised. I slept all day, dreaming of work. Desperate to feel needed and accomplished again. And my psychiatric counselor recommended I join a study for a new depression drug. So I did. And it caused more weight gain. I am now 350lbs and 35 years old.
CONCLUSION
I seem to have a habit of changing my entire lifestyle to lose weight and then, when no results are seen in a sufficient amount of time, I give up. I don't give up because I don't enjoy exercise. I don't give up because I have no willpower. I give up out of sheer desperation and disappointment. My body holds onto fat like teflon to a pan.
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