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Here I am 7 months past, short of having a family, the biggest life changing decision I have ever made. 

First, the numbers.  Today I weighed in at 188 pounds, that is 7 pounds lost for the month, which is a steady average of 1 - 2 pounds per week at this point.  I have lost a total of 86 pounds. 

I have spent some time watching/reading other people's blogs, especially at similar mile stones to figure out where I am in comparison.  Am I normal?  Am I doing this right?  This is what I have gathered so far since surgery.

1.  I never should have eaten that crap in the first place, maybe once in a great while, but occasions were too frequent, sometimes every day.  I still don't eat bread or sweets, even though it seems that I can if I want.  I treat myself to an occasional cracker and croutons.  I don't eat fried food.  I decorate cakes on occasion and I no longer lick my fingers, and I don't drink soda.  If I had restrained myself on a daily basis, crash diets and then regain wouldn't have been necessary.  I try to concentrate on high quality and protein rich foods, and if something tastes like crap, I don't eat it at all.

2. I focused way to much on the short term and let it defeat me.  This is the beauty of weight loss surgery, at first when the scale doesn't drop it is devastating and frustrating, but sooner or later it budges again.  Over time you have to do more if you want it to move much.  Eventually the focus will be on getting it not to vary much at all.  I have had my stalls, and looked back over my before pictures to buoy me up, and as it turns out, I look pretty good, even not losing another pound.  I spent nearly every day in apology for being fat and not being able to get it under control, and I never have to any more.  I can bend and move and breathe, and my weight isn't the most noticeable thing about me any more.  I have learned that I have to focus on that sometimes and what it takes to stay healthy rather than the movement on the scale.

3.  My family and friends don't really care about my weight, they do care about what I can do with them and whether or not I am healthy.  Even over time my husband has finally stopped with his weird remarks about how I only had surgery to get sexy for another man.  Some people are threatened by my weight loss, and I suspect not everyone is happy for me, but most are because I was headed for a major stroke or heart attack.  My kids don't care at all, they just want to know if I can fit on the carnival rides with them this year.  In reality I was the only one who really cared about my weight, and in the end it was up to me alone to deal with it.

4.  My life will always be crazy.  There is never going to be a time that is convenient for healthy food or exercise.  Never.  God gave me a brain so I could work things like that out.

5.  Even with surgery and all these experts, in the end this is still up to me.  I don't know what I was expecting, but my doctors don't call and check on me once a week to see how I am doing, if I am eating right, drinking water, exercising, or taking my meds and vitamins.  I have to make and keep what few and far between doctor appointments I have.  They gave me some basic information to get me past the first couple of months, but after that I am mostly on my own.  I have read books, followed blogs, and taped and measured myself.  Surgery and doctors, they are only tools, effective if used properly, but I could eat pretty much whatever I want now, smaller quantities, but I could eat junk.  I could not exercise, but I want to keep my weight loss moving, and I'm starting to look saggy and jiggly, so some muscle tone will look nice.  No one is going to come to my house and make me work out (unless I pay them big bucks to) so I have to do it.  Same with the pills which I struggle to take and my protein.  Also, I have found I am the one who has to keep my mental health in check.  It means I have to be somewhat self absorbed and serving in these areas, but that is OK.  I am pretty sure I can get down to a reasonable weight, and I know what to do, and now it feels possible.

6.  I am worth it.  What planet was I on that I thought surgery was going to take away from my family and the whole world was going to stop because I would be incapacitated for a few weeks, or be unable to eat big family meals?  I was worried about the financial impact, and if I was being selfish.  What the hell kind of life was I really living?  I loathed myself every day for not being ale to control my weight, my quality of life sucked...every day.  I was depressed and miserable.  I couldn't physically do things that I enjoyed.  Yes, it was temporarily inconvenient, but I would do it again if I had to pay 100% out of pocket.  Life is too short to spend miserable and loathing yourself, waking up every morning feeling like someone beat you with a baseball bat all night long because you can't breathe and the extra weight just hurts your bones.  I would have supported and encouraged a loved one 100% to get their life healthy, hank goodness I finally got behind myself.

I don't think that I could have lost the weight without surgery, not long term, because I needed the help to push through the stalls and disappointments.  I needed the threat of this all being wasted over my head to continue to stay the course.  I needed results to feel like it was worth it.  I have friends who I think would be excellent candidates for surgery.  I can see how it would improve their lives so much, and how I wish I could give them this gift.  It's not a gift I can give away.  I can let them see the changes in me and how much happier and healthier I am.  I want to cry with them and tell them I know their secret shame and it doesn't have to be this way. 

Last year, during the 4th of July carnival, there was a ride that my daughters were to short to go on without an adult.  I went to get on it, and try as we might, they couldn't close the lap bar with my stomach in the way.  Believe me the poor guy tried, and hurt me in the process.  I had to get off, with my girls.  Luckily, my son had an 18 year old friend with him that was able to take them, but the carnival was pretty much ruined for me.  I couldn't do any of the rides because I was just too big, and I almost cost my girls from having fun either.  Today my daughter asked me if I would be able to ride with her this year.  It took me a moment, but I answered, "Yes, I don't see why not."  I still don't have a very good sense about my size, I am still surprised that I can fit into clothes and spaces that I do.  But we were pretty close that day getting me into the ride, and now today I know it won't be any trouble at all.  It was one of the things that made me decide I needed to make a change and get off the yo-yo hamster wheel.  I have my life back, I can do all those things I was afraid of, or humilated by, and humiliating it was.  Yes sweetheart, this year I will ride too.

I knew it could happen, but I wasn't prepared for it I suppose.  I lost 6 pounds early in the month, mostly due to the flu I think, and finally got under 200 pounds, and now for three weeks, I actualy gained 2 pounds (probably partially due to menstrual issues), so I am stuck.  I am trying not to freak out and worry that it is all coming back.  I can eat more than before and I could certinly curb things like OJ and cheese which aren't doing me any favors calorie wise, but the underlying fear is that I am screwed. 

The logical part of my brain says, make a few smart adjustments in food and exercise, give your body a second to breathe after dropping so much weight, and it will drop again.  I'm fighting to pay attention to that part, because that is the advice I woud give someone else.  I still have food problems to work out, like my husband trying to get me to eat dinner with the family when I should have eaten (and probably did) several hours earlier, and wanting to eat on breaks because it relaxes me.  I do have more room than before and can now finish a whole salad, but still get full quickly on regular food.  I don't exercise because I barely have time for sleep with my 10 hour days and 3 hour commute (plus a forced hour of lunch).  There are lots of things I can do to help myself, I think it has just taken the last three weeks to realize that I am going to have to try a little harder, my tool is only as good as how I use it.  I have plenty of excuses, but I need more focus on what I am trying to accomplish.

On the plus side I finally went shopping for size 16 jeans and xl tops.  the jeans are tight around my middle and fit on the backside and legs, but they look nice.  Tight is good because it reminds me to stay focused, and truthfully, unless I get surgery I will always be thicker with my flabby pannis taking up room there.  I think I look "normal" in a mom sort of way, and sometimes kind of attractive.  With surgery I could actually completely live with my weight as is.  It is my stomach that bpthers me most, flabby arms second, flabby thighs third.  I have always been thick in the thighs and arms. 

Would it be so bad if this was all I could lose?  I'm pretty comfortable in life, I am so much healthier, and I can pass for a thick version of normal.  I still want to lose another 50 pounds.  I want surgery to remove my "front butt".  I do want to tone and exercise.  I want to master my food problems so I can stay healthy.  So, stall or not, the answer is start some exercise and tweak the nutrition, ride it out, that is all you can do.

It has only been a week but I want to update that I dropped another magic 5 pounds which put me at 197, under 200 for the first time in about 6 years.  202, 204, always sticking points right before a rebound. Now, I'm not worried about a rebound.  I'm not sure how much more I will lose, and what my next goal ought to be, quite honestly it always seemed really far off and I expected to stall out for a while.  The tool carried me over the threshold into a healthier place.  To celebrate I am going to throw out all my size 20 clothes, and I ought to do he same with the 18s. 

I am happy, but in a calm way, not excited like I'd thought I'd be.  A couple of years ago after dropping 50 pounds, I was at 202 and went out and bought party hats and noisemakers to celebrate with my friends.  I never hit it.  Now, it's different, knowing that I won't gain the weight back, and my body is becoming small enough to maybe shop in regular sizes in a few months, that people will see me and not use my weight as the first point of reference, and perhaps when I go hiking this year, I won't sprain my ankle again. 

I love my tool, I love that I had this surgery.  Sometimes I want to eat bad things, the other day I ate 5 M & Ms, and then I started my period the next day.  5 was enough to end the ridiculous chocolate craving I was having.  Dangerous ground, but I think that I have a sense of control that did not exist prior, a sense of whether or not I really need something, and the ability to stop and leave a half-eaten plate when I have had enough.  I am sorry it took surgery to make my appetite "normal", but it did, and now I am healthier for it. 

So from here, where do I go?  Much like Alice in her own Wonderland, I am down the rabbit hole exloring this new pace that seems vaguely familiar, and yet, incredibly strange.  Unlike Aice, I have no intention of returning to the place I came from.

71 pounds, it doesn't even sound real.  I used to cry thinking about how I needed to lose over 100 pounds and how hard, nay impossible it seemed.  This is officially the most weight I ever lost at one time, my former record being 70 pounds when I went from 198 to 128 about 15 years ago.  Obviously it didn't take forever, although I did level out around 140-150 and teniously held that for about 5 years.  I am actually starting to believe I may see 128 pounds again, although I'm ok if I don't.  That would mean I would have to lose a total of 146 pounds.  That's a lot.  I'm really happy with the idea that I will continue to lose some more weight and that it isn't coming back.

I scare myself.  I ate an M & M oatmeal cookie a week ago.  There wasn't anything else in the house.  I tolerated it fine.  I ate my favorite chicken enchilada casserole last night.  Today I went to Carl's Jr for lunch, not because I was hungry, but because I wanted fast food.  To my credit I got a low-carb grilled chicken sandwich, and only ate two-thirds of it.  I want to eat for the wrong reasons too often.  I am realizing I pretty much can eat anything I decide to try, which terrifies me, I just can't eat much of it, and although I usually make good choices I am afraid of the idea that I can choose to make bad ones.  I'm PMSing and I have a cold I'm having some job stress, and some family stress.  Food was my standby for bringing it down.  Now I am here writing it away.  Maybe noone will ever read this, but I feel better for it.  I am trying to imgine a body that I can be proud of again, sure with sagging, wrinkled skin, but well put together.  My rear is starting to look nice again, and I show the beginings of a noticeable waist.  I am actually starting to consider getting rid of all of my size 20 clothes.  I realize i am standing at a cross-roads now where I get to make choices rather than be strictly confined by what I can or can't have.  I knew this day would come.  Surprisingly with my tummy not hungry all the time, the good choices are easier and the bad choices apparent for what they are.  Mental.

Wow!  Today I weighed in at 210 (from 275) and that makes 65 pounds down.  I realized that possibly next month I may well cross the threshold of the impenetrable 200 pound mark.  I still have a terrible time with feeling like I am not losing, as some weeks I lose nothing and the next I may go down 4 pounds, but to my amazement it is still falling off. 

I got through the Christmas season without one cookie or piece of fudge, both specialties of mine.  I made it, just didn't eat it.  I did have a piece of pumpkin pie, minus the crust, and realize I am probably not going to dump if I eat sugar, but have no desire to test it beyond very strict limits as if I will. 

My hair has fallen out by hand fulls the last few weeks, maybe 5 a day, I am constantly cleaning hair off of my sweaters.  I chopped some blunt bangs to hide the hairline and a couple of days ago went from dirty blond to a natural looking red.  I'm getting tons of compliments on how good I look, which is nice, and am working on just saying "thank you" instead of, "I don't really think I look any different".

I am pretty sure it is about time to move into size 16 clothes.  Most of my weight is in my tummy, so now I look 6 months pregnant instead of ready to deliver.  The problem with pants is that the butt and thigh area are incredibly baggy but the tummy is comfortable.  I don't want to spend a ton of money on pants because it is my sincere hope in a couple of months I will need to replace them again.  I stood at the rack at walmart to buy a cheap shirt for about 10 minutes completely clueless as to what size to buy.  My strategy on tops has always been to get the largest possible size in hopes that it might not shrink or at least be large enough to cover my stomach.  After some debate I settled on a size 16/18 and it fit very nicely, in fact it shows I have some kind of figure!  Granted, I am still lumpy, but I am starting to have some shape besides round. 

Part of me is like, well, if I have to live at this weight, it really isn't too bad.  i never set out to be a beauty queen, just be able to move, breathe, and fit in clothes that didn't lift to show skin every time I moved.  Sometimes I imagine what I would look like without the belly, after a surgery I don't know if I will ever have.  I have no idea what I really look like to the outside world, I imagine still quite fat, but not so much grotesquely so, a little more "normal" fat.  Laying in bed sometimes I run my hands over my ribs down my hips and am amazed at the fact I can feel bone, but then like clockwork, hold my belly that hangs out to remind myself I suppose that I am still much the same.  My therapist says it takes time, about 3 to 6 months for your brain to catch up to your physical appearance.  That makes sense since when I was at my biggest I would be so shocked to see pictures of myself.  Maybe now I look like what I thought I did when I was big, and in 3 or 4 months I will feel differently.  I do feel better, more healthy, less like I am forcing myself to participate in life despite exhaustion and depression.  I don't hate my body either, but rather feel like I am performing some sort of science experiment where the result is somewhat unknown.  What if I do get down to a "small" weight?  What if, and what would it mean?  Most of me just believes of course I will still be fat, just not so fat, and maybe I won't gain it all back this time plus some "souvenir" pounds from the attempt. 

The scars are fading, just little pink scratches really, and for the most part I am enjoying eating food again, with a few limits that are mostly self-imposed.  I have a couple of habits that I would consider "bad" like a daily love for orange juice, but it is my one sweet thing I allow myself, which also helps with keeping things moving (if you know what I am getting at), I just need to reign it in a bit.  I feel hunger but nothing like I used to, a mild distraction at best, mostly feeling a bit weak and short of concentration.  I get full on pretty small portions, often putting away or giving away half of my food.  I have only thrown up once in the last few weeks on a piece of reheated chicken which I probably ate too fast.  I can eat though!  I have beef jerky, string cheese, a salad, some nuts sometimes, most of a healthy choice dinner, and a little bit of altered dinner when I get home, like yesterday I ate the toppings off of a piece of pizza.  I am doing much better on my protein shakes, although not every single day, 3 out of 4 now.  I eat what I think is too much, but I still lose, so it is probably just right.  No bread, no pasta, no rice, no sugar.  I did try a bit of fizzy apple/grape faux wine, and I mean a sip and my stomach was pissed at me for it, so my desire for my diet coke addiction went immediately away.  I sometimes miss stuff, but not much and not often.

Hello all!  I have been really excited to hear the few words of encouragement i have from those who have left them for me.  I just wanted to let all of you know I am doing great.   My emotions have leveled back out and the weight is continuing to drop off a little at a time.  I am down from 274 to 218.  56 pounds, and now people are finally starting to notice.  I have heard everything from asking if I have been feeling OK (just one, and a child at that) to" wow, you really see it in your face", which I guess means I had a fat face.  It is really nice for people to see it though instead of people just seeing that I have had surgery but I am still fat.

My hair is finally starting to fall out, and I must admit with my busy schedule I have laxed a little on the protein shakes.  I'm just soooo bored of them and finding out I had to add two scoops of powder to one shake made them way less enjoyable.  Some of my tops fit funny over my shoulders and some of my pants in bigger sizes look a little weird around the legs.  My tummy is still large enough that I fit OK into size 20s, but 18s seem to look a little better every where else.  I think I could get away with XL tops when 3x would barely fit me before.  (The bigger the better.)  My skin is sort of saggy and I have tons of cellulite on my backside.  It is time for exercise, but I still haven't found the time.  I am working 10 hour shifts with an hour and a half commute each way.  There is room, but man I am stretched pretty thin.

Eating has been pretty great, I have been able to eat pretty much whatever I have chosen to.  I stop when I feel like I have had enough, which seem like a lot of food, but I guess that is relative.  I stay away from lots of stuff still.  No soda, no bread, no rice or pasta or sweets EXCEPT I did have some no sugar added ice cream which was lovely.  I just treat it like I am diabetic and it will make me feel horrible, and then it is not so bad.  I have been baking like I normally would, and cooking like I normally would this time of year, but it seems to be all about choices, and I am astounded at how many bad choices I would be making if I gave in to my mindless urges.  I absolutely needed the immediate consequences surgery brings in order to make the healthy decisions I have made. 

My husband has finally stopped accusing me of cheating on him, and even admits he feels naughty in the bedroom ,like he is with someone else.

I find myself wondering what is really going to be possible size-wise once I am at the end of wherever this leads.  I wonder if I really could get down to a size 6 again and how that would feel.  I find myself feeling fine with weighing in around 155 if that is where I end up, maybe even 20 pounds more because the extra weight off feels so much better.  I carried two gallons of milk down the stairs the other day and my knees hurt, and I was like, "Wow, I have lost twice this much in weight, at least."  I don't regret it at all, not one little bit.

First off I have lost a total of 33 pounds, yay!  Starting at 272 and now down to 241.  I am hoping by next week I will be in the 230s.  It's funny when i say it, it doesn't sound like a whole lot, but then I have to remember I basically lost it in 1 month!  I used to be lucky to get 15-20 pounds in a month, so this is a pretty good win.

I made the rounds to all my doctors, and my problems were basically what I perceived them to be, with the added issue of surging hormones from recovering from surgery.  My therapist says that I need to work on my anger, and I thought, but I'm not an angry person, I just had a bad episode.  I think the point may be that i am not dealing with stress and anger in the healthiest way, like say eating foods that make me happy....  Anyway, my Prozac was doubled AND changed to a liquid form that I will now take twice a day.  (Starting Tuesday since Monday is a holiday.)  That should keep a lid on the beast until we root out the issues I suppose.

Work is going well, and I am finally adjusting to the change in my sleeping schedule.  I am still trying to figure out how to fit exercise in my schedule, especially when I feel so tired still.  I am hoping once my meds all even out inside me I will feel more up to it.  Depression is terrible for trying to exercise, all I ever really want to do is stay in bed and pull the covers over my head.

I AM more positive than it might sound.  My husband keeps telling me how much smaller I am getting, and people who know me keep asking how much weight I have lost and encouraging me.  I haven't eaten sugar in I don't know how long, and I don't really crave it like I used to.  I don't hurt at all, and the weight is creeping slowly off, and it would faster if I would get my act together on exercise, which is usually no problem for me, but I think I will figure something out, even if it is just a 15 minute walk at lunch. 

So week 5 has been about getting it all together and moving forward, in a way I am beginning to see how this really will be a whole new life.

Technically I am 4 weeks and 3 days, but this is the only time I have had to blog about it.

Weight loss- If my bathroom scale is accurate, I am at around 240 pounds.  I go to the doctor today, so I will officially log whatever her scale says when I get home, but if that is accurate, I have lost around 34 pounds.  Not bad.  Even if I was at my last weigh in on the wii, I am still down a total of 30 pounds in one month.  I was feeling kind of down about how slow the weight loss seems right now, but honestly, stepping back and realizing I lost that in only 1 month instead of three, I think I am ok.  I am a little nervous I will only drop about 10 pounds a month from here on out, but whatever, I am physically healthier every day.

Mental Breakdown- That caught your eye did it?  Well, it has now become abundantly clear to me how much I use food to cope with stress.  I have a psych appointment next week.  Lets just say that I had an incident (where no one was hurt) that ended up in me acting in a crazy out of character way that had to eventually involve the police.  It was at the tail end of a terrible stress-induced day after the first week of a new job with a long commute (2 hours each way) and horrible hours that has left me pretty sleep deprived.  I am now in the process of adjusting my medication for depression because it is not working the way it used to and meeting back with my psychologist that I saw preop to figure out what the hell happened in my brain to make me insane.  I realize that I probably would have drugged myself with food before, and that just isn't an option right now.

Dumping-So while dealing with the repercussions of my horrible weekend, I started craving fast food, pretty bad.  I tried to ignore it for about an hour, and finally I pulled over at Jack-in-the-Box.  They have grilled chicken strips there which I thought I should be able to tolerate just fine.  WRONG.  To be fair I dipped it in the red hot sauce and ranch (which I love the flavor of and pre-surgery could eat all day), and when I say "it" I mean the one tiny piece of chicken I ate.  Thank goodness I had an hour till I had to be at work, because the next 30 minutes I spent puking.  My stomach burned like I was on fire, I had an uncomfortable feeling sort of like pressure prior to throwing up, and my hands were shaking for the rest of the day.  I was able to hold down yogurt about 6 hours later just fine, but when I came home another six hours later, I felt like I needed to eat, so I opted for a hard boiled egg, which I have held down before.  Unfortunatley for me, my stomach didn't care that I had one before, and I proceeded to barf it up until all I had left was foam.  Word to the wise, do not drink anything when you get that feeling, it just makes it worse.  I seriously have looked around at food a few times and don't dare eat anything without being sure that it won't cause that reaction.

So, not my best week.  I am getting the help I need to get it back under balance, and emotionally I am pretty exhausted, but ok.  I just need some better coping skills.  Obviously eating worked even though it was making me miserable and unhappy, it was keeping me from boarding the crazytown bus.  It is so hard to admit I am broken this way.  I have always been known as the sane stable one and right now I can't vouch for my behaviour under stress.  I recognize though, that this has always been an issue, just one I dealt with in a way that I can't any longer.  This is why they do the evaluations.  It's a good thing that I don't drink.  I'd be drunk right now.

Just wanted to tell someone :)  The scale finally budged 2 pounds!!  Under 250...yes!