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Today I tried two new things (well, three, if you include my resistance to the urge to buy a large Breve Latte' with an extra expresso shot).

First, I tried a new grocery store (new to me). I wrapped up at the laundry mat and was going to head over to Meijer and stock up on a few items since I was only a couple of miles away. I also had to swing by Staples to pick up ink cartridges for my printer while heading over there. In the Staples shopping center there's a sign for Aldi. So I figured why not?

The buggies are all chained together and require the buggy pusher to deposit a quarter into the box on the right of the handle to said buggy. I made a face. I was going to have to use that quarter to pay for the parking meter later, I didn't want to to stick a quarter into the stupid box (not that I had a choice). I sighed and stuffed a quarter in the slot, freed the stupid buggy and went into the store.

Immediately upon entering I noticed as a whole it was smaller than your typical grocery store. Maybe a little bigger than 7-11? The entire place was filled with off-brand foods. From kettle chips to milk. I saw Uncle Ben's rice stuff, a Lysol cleaner, but nothing else really stood out. So I thought I'd give it a shot and see what the benefit would be. I picked a 1/2 gallon of milk, egg substitute, a few off brand greek yogurts (I think I know where those will end up), cheese (they did have Baby Bel's, really excited I was!), some crackers to go with my cream cheese, half and half, decaf coffee, couple of frozen food items, kettle chips (they were in front of the door and called my name), lunch meat, blah blah blah. I had  meals at home, this was just a run for fillers and mild munchies (okay..TWO munchies...sue me).

At the checkout I noticed there were only two lanes, customers had to pay for bags (paper or plastic), and the cashiers only put the items back into the buggies after scanning them. Similar to Sams Club. The end of the lanes aren't user friendly, they get clogged up with recycling buggies (again, like Sams). Also, there's no display to indicate how much you're spending, which kind of bugged me because I am watching my wallet.

When the cashier finished with me, I bagged up my stuff and loaded up my car. Then put the buggy away to get my stinking quarter back. Side note: there wasn't a single solitary buggy in the parking lot.

Then I went to Staples. When did they get so cluttered? It's like walking into Micro Center, crap everywhere. I won't be going back there. I like clean, obstacle free shopping. I enjoy displays which get my attention and force me to touch the items in the basket. Cluttering up the entrance and the area in front of the cash registers is, as far as I'm concerned, a marketing nightmare. When I was trying to check out, the guy had me go to another lane. You know, they couldn't even be bothered to remove the crap off the counter so I could finish my transaction. This duded wanted me to fill out a rewards application. Looking back, what I should have said was, "NO, I don't want to complete your application. I don't want two rewards points for recycling my old cartridges. You're wasting my time and I can't see where the hell I'm going!"

Finally, I went to the Salvation Army over on 4th Street here in Royal Oak. I just asked my mom, "When did they get so expensive?" I found three t-shirts which cost me $21 bucks, and I also looked for a winter coat. However, I'm not spending 80 bucks on a wool coat with holes in the pockets and tears in the inner lining. I'm struggling with the whole coat thing because whatever I get, I am not going to be able to wear in a couple of months due to the rate I'm losing weight. In other words, spending all that money on something I will not be able to wear in 60 days doesn't make sense. I might hook up with my cousin and look into hitting the DAV she and her husband go to. Might get lucky there.

Oh, so this picture is from the lot where I parked. Some fool stuffed a nickel into the meter with glue on it. It was wedged in the slot. If you look, you can see the substance on the bottom portion of the coin, on the right. Nice, huh?

That's what they call it on the boards I frequent...a surgiversary. Today marks six months since I had gastric bypass surgery. For the most part, I believe everyone who knows me has been supportive. I also get the feeling a small handful think I took the easy way out. It's unspoken, but the feeling is still there.

Coming to the decision to have gastric bypass was not easy. I spent a year looking into the procedures. At the time there were only two available: lap-band and Roux-en-Y (RNY). I wasn't too keen on foreign objects in my person. Plus, I have read about a lot of revisions (from band to RNY). I certainly didn't want to do this twice. Mom had the RNY, she was successful. November of last year I met with my weight loss doctor for the first time, weighing in at a hefty 354 pounds.

Go to the grocery store and stack up 16 - 25 pound bags of dog food into a shopping buggy. Now, push the buggy. Pretty tough. Now, imagine carrying that around. That was a reality check. I was just over 40 and weighed almost 400 pounds. I didn't clue into it at the time. I was more or less feeling a little desperate I needed to make some serious changes or my health was going to decline very quickly. I was suffering from recurring skin infections, stomach issues, had my gallbladder removed, two attacks of pancreatitis, back trouble, knee problems. One of my doctors also promised me if I did not make an honest effort to make some serious changes regarding my weight, he could all but assure me I would develop diabetes within 5 years. I believed him. At the time my blood pressure had started showing signs of going high.

So, six months of office visits, a half-assed/lame attempt at the gym (it really was lame...I was so lazy), and May 17th rolls around. Day of my surgery. Life just wouldn't be the same.

Everyone looses weight differently. I look like I've lost more than I have because I'm stricken with the curse of being super tall. I'm also not framed like an average woman, something my doctor tells me will always be in my favor. I've lost a total of 101 pounds to date (I wanted to lose 100 by December), and over the last month 11.5 inches all over (see yesterday's blog post). I'm hopeful to have met my goal of loosing 200 pounds by my one year surgiversary date.

I follow a strict diet, get my water in, have my coffee every day, eat my vitamins (providing I'm not in a hurry and running out the front door), I don't go after the things I used to (in other words, I've learned Moose Tracks is NOT a food group all by itself). My back rare bothers me. My knees do, but that's an ongoing situation and with help need to do strengthening to keep from having a knee replacement earlier than I need to. I sleep better, don't gasp for air climbing the stairs to my flat, constantly adjust the seat in my Jeep because my belly is no longer the primary driver, and this next week I'll be buying two more pairs of pants because the three I just bought a few weeks ago are now too big. I have someone to ship them to, so they will get used.

I'm pretty stoked. I cannot wait to see what I look like in May. How fun is this!!

Bad-Ass: so exceptional as to be intimidating.   That's me.   Mark tells me at least twice a week that's what I am while I'm staggering around the training room trying to hit him four times in a row after slipping, weaving...and this week...getting myself punched in the eye.   Lobbing punches doesn't make the bad-ass I am.   This week will be six months since I had my weight loss surgery. Mark had me get on the scale and he took measurements:   I've lost 17 pounds since we did this a month ago...officially 101 pounds since I started this little adventure of mine.   Since last month I've also lost:   4 inches off my abs. 2 inches off my waist. 3 inches off my arms. half inch off my hips (WHAT..ev...ER). 2 inches off my thighs.   Quick: ADD!   Oh. Em. Gee.   Eleven and a half inches in a month.   So with that I humbly admit...   I. Am. A. Bad-Ass!   Woot!!

Three years ago, I met with a very cocky orthopedist. I believe he was twelve, I was certainly old enough to be his mother. During my encounter with said cocky youngster, I learned I had the onset of arthritis in both knees. We did not have much discussion about measures to make changes, he was all to happy to do "needle therapy"...something I was not willing to participate in. My thought was numbing the pain doesn't eliminate the problem (now THERE's a book seller!).

Last summer, I met with a very round orthopedist.

He had the audacity to suggest I undergo gastric bypass surgery as a resolution to my knee problems. It didn't matter I had been researching the procedure for quite a few months by the time this particular appointment came around. I was completely offended anyone in the medical profession would be so blatantly blunt.

The fact he was as round as I was at the time really chapped my chubby cheeks.

Yet, I had weight loss surgery on May 17th, and have been doing well. My knees still bug, especially the right one. So after jumping Jack with my trainer a few weeks ago, I managed to really torque my right knee. Oddly, I made an appointment with the round orthopedist for next month (because my sarcasm knows no bounds). I did meet with my regular physician and had an MRI.

I found out the arthritis grew since I met with the cocky orthopedist. From "onset" to "tricompartmental osteoarthritis" (plus some other stuff). I was completely bummed when I received the news. Although arthritis would have been inevitable, my carrying around so much excess weight (aka: severely obese) accelerated the condition. Total knee replacement isn't an "if" for me, it will eventually become a "when".

Today I had to break down and buy new tennis shoes and some socks. I had been feeling pretty high on the hog (so to speak) lately over my clothes having the baggy fit. At a training session the other night I almost lost my pants (literally) while kicking the poo out of a pad the trainer was holding. Would have been funny for him, a little shocking for the spin class across the hall...

I have three or four t-shirts I wear to the gym. They've gotten fairly large, but I hesitate to purchase any more right now because I have been dropping inches like crazy. I just feel it's a waste of money...for the moment. I did pick up a sports bra and a pair of gym pants.

The bra was a little tight when I put it on, but then seemed to "fit" (I really can't explain it any better). The pants were snug around my hips and that big old extra roll in front (not the trunk, but similiar). I could move and whatnot, I didn't suffocate myself, or have "muffin top" (side note: that's a stupid phrase). I figured the long t-shirts I've been wearing might be viable for a few more weeks longer in light of what I saw in the mirror.

I have cleaned out the closet of clothes which no longer fit, have finally started to touch the pants which have been patiently waiting for me for months, got new socks because the old ones fall down. I should have been beside myself with excitement over purchasing something off the rack in a regular department store. In one swing I managed to deflate my balloon. I didn't like what I saw, all those NSV's I've been posting as of late just sort of faded into the carpet. All I heard in my head was, "You're STIll fat."

God help me, I don't want to get caught up in that mind mess. How can I move past it?

-Traci

Well, I met with a gastroenterologist today because I have been having problems a few times a week with keeping food down. This has been incredibly irritating and interferes with my ability to introduce new foods into my diet, I don't know if they'll stay down or not. So Tuesday morning I get to have an endoscopy. If they find any narrowing of the stoma (which is what is suspected), then they'll do a balloon dilation to open it back up.

Sounds like a blast, huh?

Yesterday my brother and I were chatting on instant messenger. I shared I brought my Nook to work. During our chit-chat he asked what it was that I was reading. I in turn asked if he honestly wanted to know. Matthew, being the inquisitive mind he is says, "yes."

I said, "The Bible....I just read story where a king and his servants got slaughtered and all the carcases were tossed into a cistern (big well)."

Matthew says, "Sounds graphic".

Funny thing is, I would so watch the movie!

Remember back in May when I wrote about my encounter with the Collector at the hospital and she hinted at my not being able to have my surgery because of an old bill?

You're going to love this.

The Collector sent my financial paperwork back to me (three months after the fact) about two weeks ago. Scrawled on the front of the manilla envelope inside was the following: "It's still considered  bad debt unless you make a payment." She signed her name and put her phone number underneath. I was furious.

I obtained the name of the director who ran the department the Collector worked in and sent a letter (overnight). I explained my dealings with the Collector, included copies of emails and added all I wanted was something on their letterhead confirming the bill reduction and monthly payment plan. I stated I refuse to deal with the Collector any further, and I attached the original manilla envelope the Collector scribbled all over.

Honestly, I expected to get stalked by the collections department and start the whole ordeal over again. Today I received a rather fat envelope from the hospital. My heart sunk.

I opened the envelope, pulled out all the paper and shouted "oustanding!" after I saw the statement used as the cover. Not only did I get my confirmation of the bill reduction, the hospital gave me my original payment I offered, AND payments aren't due to start until the end of August.

This may all sound stupid to someone who's fitter financially than I am, but in this day and age a simple letter resolved the entire outcome...in my favor.

Woot!

Side note: I have pictures on Facebook which show my weight loss, which is up to 60 pounds. Pretty cool. Now if I could actually finish an entire cup of coffee before the end of the day...

 

"Your past does not define you. You can step out of your history and create a new day for yourself." - Oprah Winfrey

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There are things I take for granted: technology, vehicles, laundry soap, stores within close proximity to my house...

...being able to poop.

Seriously, I would just kill (hypothetically speaking, of course) for a stick of dynamite if I thought for one second that would help.

Apparently, this would be a side effect of too much protein and not enough fats. At least that is what the web site I frequent tells me. I am hitting my protein goals and thought fats per day too.  Obviously, not the case. But (oh look, a pun!) it would appear many who have had RNY surgery do struggle with this problem, and there were oodles of suggestions. From sunflower seeds - I loved sunflower seeds - to raisins, prunes, diluted prune juice (I would think diluting prune juice would defeat the purpose, but it's to lower the sugar content), Activa, Benefiber (which sucks, in case you were wondering), Colace, Miralax. Actually, the last two were severely popular.

Needless to say, I hit the drug store on the way home from work.

So, there you have it. A little peek into my personal life dilemma.

Other changes you might be interested in: I can no longer wear the uber big & tall shirts I purchased at KMart.com last winter. My over-sized lounge lizard sweat pants fall off (I can't even wear them to bed because it's like I got wrapped up in the sheets). The pants I had been wearing all over the place are too big (Christine pointed this out when we went to dinner - three shrimp fiesta - for my birthday). I found another pair of pants I haven't worn in well over a year, and you can only imagine my excitement when I put them on and they fit! I have also pulled out some t-shirts which have been buried in the dresser for almost two years. It was weird. I told someone today, it was like "all of a sudden" BANG! Clothes are bigger.

If that concept would work with my bank account...

I was hoping to hold out until the end of August before I purchased any clothing out of the need to keep pants on my butt. However, I fear I may have to invest in a new bra soon. The girls are having a hard time keeping up.  :P

"Hiiiiiiya!"

Sometime ago I purchased a Ninja.  It's this little food processor/blender-on-steroids ditty that works really well.  I had no idea I would be using this much when I got it, I'm thrilled to pieces.  It works ten times better than a regular blender (speaking of which...I have one and it's now up for grabs).

Anyway, today I cooked up a pound of ground beef that I had picked up at Traders. Their stuff isn't processed and full of weird junk, which probably explains why I couldn't chop up the pieces into the tiny bits I had hoped to. I stood in the kitchen pondering what to do with my chunky dilemma, then I spotted the Ninja on the counter. It has three containers, the two small ones I use daily. The large container is for bulk drinks, smoothies, and so forth. It comes with it's own blade stem and lids. I plopped all the ground beef in it, secured the top and hit the button.

And wallah-itty, bitty pieces of ground beef. I was so proud of myself I slapped that container on the counter and laughed myself silly.

Later this week I get to try Tofu.  :/