cherylmathis

Send Message

Block

Add Friend

When I eat too much or eat the wrong combination of things, my tummy swells. It's the strangest thing. I ate an apple this afternoon, and my stomach puffed out. I call it my food baby. Since getting skinny, whenever I eat, my stomach puffs out until I look like I'm five months pregnant. It makes me nervous each time... because I've developed a pretty strong phobia about gaining weight. For a couple weeks now, I've stressed about piling on the pounds... but then getting dressed a few days ago, I noticed my hips were bonier than before, so I weighed myself. I had lost a couple more pounds. I have to stop worrying so much. 

But when it comes down to this whole WLS journey... you don't want to fail. Failure for me now that I've reached my goal weight would be regaining more than 20 pounds. I have about 20 pounds of buffer and still be at a healthy weight. But I think I'd be horrified if I even gained 10. I'm at "goal"... but now my new goal is to stay skinny for the rest of my life.

Once upon a time, I had a dream to wear knee high black leather boots because they were sexy as all hell. I found a pair in my fat girl catalog, and I was so happy to find that they sold them in WW width with extra wide calf. I was horrified when they arrived at my doorstep, and, try as I might, I couldn't zip them up. My legs were too fat.

Two months after surgery, and I tried them on again. I had to torque my leg a bit, but with some extra elbow grease, I managed to zip them up. They were very tight, but they looked good. Four months later, and they zipped up easily, but my feet would get tired when I walked in them. They were a size too big. I've worn them recently, but they are at least one whole size too big for me. I promised myself that when money was a little more plentiful, I'd buy a new pair that would actually fit. 

So today I went to Target with some money, and I tried on every tall black boot in the store. Every single one of them zipped up just fine. I got to pick based on how tall of a heel I wanted. 

Since I had time (and no kids with me), I decided I might as well try on some new jeans finally. For months I've been wearing ill-fitting handmedowns that were mostly too baggy or too tight and not very attractive. I grabbed some size 8s off the rack and shelf. A stretchy skinny pair fit well, but I wanted a second pair in a different style. I went back to try three different fits in size 8, but nothing looked right. There was always this gap around the waist. So I finally tried the size 6s... zipped up just fine, and no awkward gaps. SERIOUSLY. A SIZE 6. 

Very nice. I did a little happy dance. And now I'm wearing them. So freakin' awesome. 

I'm planning on attending a special support group at the hospital in a couple weeks that is especially for post-ops over a year out. Part of me just wants to show off. -- But I've been praying a lot for the surgical nursing staff at the hospital lately. I remember fondly how well they took care of me. I thought, at the time, how odd it must be for them... to be with all these people at the end of an old life and start of a new one. I wonder if they wonder if we'll succeed... if our lives will really be changed. I imagine they would probably be skeptical. I wish I could go and hug them and thank them for their support of me at that fledgling time... and to show them that I didn't screw it up, and that it worked. 

15 months out. I'm hovering around 135. I'm buying new clothes slowly but surely. Size 8 pants are generally the way to go. Anything lower and my extra skin doesn't have a place to go. Anything higher, and it's so baggy, it reminds me of being fat. I wear a lot of size medium tops, and I'm comfortable in them. Dresses I actually prefer to be around the 6 mark so it cinches in my waistline a bit. Oh... and I bought one of those fashionable wide belts that ladies wear over sweaters or tunics. And it was a SIZE SMALL people. Seriously. 

My mom took a picture of me with my son at his birthday bowling party, and I loved how thin I looked. I look so happy. I have bony shoulders and a collarbone that could cut ice. 

I'm finally getting used to seeing Skinny Cheryl in the mirror and, more importantly, in pictures. I'm finally recognizing myself. 

So yeah. I'm getting kind of vain. I got a kickass new haircut last week, and I like how put together I look. I feel stylish and fashionable. I feel like I can stand next to successful women my age in the corporate world or the supermoms who have it all together and fit in. It's a confidence I NEVER experienced when I was 280+. I could feel strong and capable, but I never felt stylish... I never felt pretty.

Pretty Cheryl? Mostly. My face is kind of gaunt right now because my skin is still shrinking, so my teeth look too big to me. Not when I smile... I have a great big smile and that's fine... but when my mouth is closed, I feel like my big teeth make my face look bony and kind of gross. I also have wrinkles around my mouth which might go away someday, but might not because I am over 30. I have the typical turkey neck waddle that lots of post-ops get, and that annoys me, but I can't do much about it. So my beauty right now is not the rosy, perfect look I dreamed about, but it's something better than it was before at my highest weight.

I read a lot of Rosamunde Pilcher books when I was a kid. She used to almost always describe her heroines by saying they weren't classically beautiful - their faces were too angular for that - but they had the sort of smile that could transform an entire room. And I think that's close to where I am, and that makes me feel good.

Vanity at a price? Yes. We are still paying off the medical bills, and I no longer have health insurance because we couldn't keep up the premiums AND pay off the deductibles that had racked up. But I honestly couldn't put a price on how good I feel, and how good it feels to be a normal, accepted part of society. That might sound harsh, but let's face it, this is not a fat and proud site. 

I've been holding out on buying new bras since the weight loss. I know my boobies are smaller... but I didn't want to have to buy new ones. So I've been wearing baggy bras for months. I started this odyssey at a 42DD. I am now a 34B. Quite the change. I have to be careful which bras to buy, though. There's a lot of loose skin that looks unsightly if the coverage isn't right or if there's too much artificial lift. I also don't like the kind with pre-formed cups because my boobs have to fold in half to fill them out. 

So now I have two bras that fit me. My breasts look so nice now... they are lifted back up to a normal position. And I like them small like this. I think it suits my new body.

I hadn't weighed myself for a couple months once I reached below my bottom goal of 140. My clothes weren't really changing in fit, so I wasn't concerned. It was bothering me a bit in back of my head that I might be eating too much and wouldn't it be terrible if I started to gain again... so I avoided the scale. I knew I wasn't binging or piling on the pounds, but I was still a little scared to see the inevitable rise in numbers again that my surgeon warned would happen after I hit rock bottom weight-wise. So when I went to a friend's house last week and used her bathroom and saw her scale out, I hopped on... and I was shocked to see I had dipped even further down to 130. SERIOUSLY. Now I'm a bit curious about what 120 would look like. I'm not sure if I have the appropriate enthusiasm to get there, but wouldn't that be a kick. 

I'm still not working out, though since it's winter, I get to shovel lots. My huz has a bad back, so I'm the only shoveller this year. Right now my arms are very sore and tired. Makes me remember how good decent workouts felt way back when when I had to actually work for my weight loss. 

So surgery related discoveries. I've tried soda again because it's just so darn tasty, but the carbonation is absolutely a bad idea. I call it my soda baby, because minutes after drinking a quarter cup of soda, my belly expands until I look like I'm 5 months pregnant. It's tight and uncomfortable, so I don't really like it much. If I want a non-water beverage, I'll usually just get a snapple or something, though they are so sweet I sometimes dump if I drink it too soon after eating. 

I'm still dumping a few times a week. Usually it's when I eat something with sugar and then don't wait long enough to drink. Like if I have a little nibble of brownie and then 30 minutes later drink some water. Or if I drink something sugary without having anything in my tummy. Once the cold sweats start, I know I have to start dosing myself with some complex carbs like pizza or graham crackers with peanut butter. It doesn't stop the dump from happening, but it makes it shorter. 

Anyway. Yay for new bras for small boobies. 

My husband asked me last night if I would call my surgeon to ask if there's a problem that I'm still losing after I reached my goal weight. I'm at 137 right now. I still have fat deposits under my skin hangs, so I know I could lose more weight.

Here's the thing. My surgeon never gave me a goal weight. Never. My dietitian didn't, nor did my physical therapist. As far as they were all concerned, my surgery would be a success if I made it under 170.  I picked 140 myself, because it seemed to be a decent BMI for my height, and I was curious to see what I looked like that thin. My body might have a different goal weight. 

I also know that I will gain back 15 pounds or so from the lowest weight I reach. It's almost guaranteed. So the lower the better. But no. I'm not still "trying" to lose weight, not that I really consider not eating "trying." It's a function of the surgery.

I still have fat days, and I've noticed that I get a big tummy if I eat too much. Never had that happen when I was fat! You wouldn't be able to see a distended stomach! But I sure can now, though it's probably just bloat since I can't eat that much.

I've been under a lot of stress this month for various reasons, mostly financial. We're in foreclosure, and we have three creditors who have filed complaints with the courthouse. We're trying to get a handle on things, but I had a couple dry months when it comes to my freelance contracts. Things are picking up again in that regard. The other big stressor has been that we've reached the end of the interview process for a company in Texas. My husband has been interviewing with them for almost three months now. We should get a final offer or rejection Monday or Tuesday of next week. It was supposed to be yesterday, but that was delayed. I feel a huge knot in my heart when I think about moving. I get very flushed and feel like my bowels are about to release. BUT... it would mean financial stability, and we must go where the jobs are. We are very fortunate that my husband is still employed, because if it's a rejection, it's not a disaster. 

I have no idea how to have the conversation with my mother that we're moving... she will be devastated to have her grandbabies so far away. I haven't told her about all the interviews because I didn't want to worry her if nothing ever came from it. So we shall see. I always swore I would never leave Wisconsin as long as she was alive, but we are diving deeper and deeper into debt... it would be irresponsible to stay if there was a better opportunity elsewhere.

Why Texas? Because my best friend and her family moved there (Houston area) this summer for a job with the same company. At least I wouldn't be among strangers. 

Anyway. I think I need to start taking my anti-acid medicine again, because I'm starting to lose sleep over the queasiness again. Last night I only got about two hours of sleep. 

So I'm at goal. 140. At certain angles, I look positively scrawny, which, as a formerly morbidly obese person, is hilarious. 9.5 months out from surgery, I'm 152 pounds from my heaviest and 142 pounds down from my surgery date. My BMI is 24, and I wear a comfortable size 8 pants and medium tops. The shirts have to be on the long side so that they don't ride up and show my midsection when my hands are above my head. I'm slim, but there's a lot of unsightly texture underneath the clothes. Texture, to me, is what has happened to my skin as the stretch marks collapse in on itself in these beautiul ripples and ruffles. 

My local newspaper did a front page story about me and a friend of mine and our success with WLS. There was a picture of me above the fold... me pushing my daughter on a swing at a park. I looked slim and happy... and all I could notice was the batwing swinging out behind my tricep. It wasn't clearly outlined, so people probably didn't know what that extra flesh color was from... but I recognized my batwing. And all I could think was "oh well."

My thighs are skinny, especially when I'm in bed. This morning I was cuddling with the hubster before we got up... and I was pointing out how I had almost 3 inches of skin puddle pooling next to my upper thighs and in my crotch area. My tummy was completely flat.... and I could lift up several inches of loose skin from where it caved in between my jutting hip bones. The skin is about one to two inches thick when I pinch it, so I know there is still fat behind it. My boobs are deflated, though I still need a C cup or a large B cup to make the extra skin look okay in a bra formation. When I lay down, I can stick my nipples in my arm pit. That's how loose the skin is. How's that for imagery? I told my husband I wasn't interested in implants, but I wouldn't mind reconstruction someday... even if it meant my breasts would be smaller. I'd rather have them be a normal shape and be small that to be big again. And the loose skin would still have to go anyway. After I'm 45... or when I know for sure I can't have more babies. 

So I guess it's time to start doing more weight training. If I can get definition for the muscles, maybe I won't mind the extra skin so much.

My weight loss has slowed, and once I hit goal a couple weeks ago, I stopped weighing. If I feel myself start to gain again (as evidenced by tighter clothes), I'll weigh again. For now, I'm still working out in my head how much food I should be trying to eat. The hunger is back, and the cravings are intense, but the body is not willing to overindulge, which is the glory of this surgery.

Here's the craving pattern I've had. I'll try a junk food like Pringles, and I'll eat some every day for a week or two. Not huge amounts... maybe a cup total. After two weeks, my body will start dumping from it. So I switched to Cheetos. Same pattern. After two weeks, I would start dumping after eating a few cheetos. My latest junk food indulgence is mint chocolate chip ice cream. Two small scoops. One night I added an extra half scoop, and I dumped. Ever since then, I dump after one scoop. 

I shouldn't be eating those foods to begin with. Yeah. I get that. Good news, my body is policing itself.

All that skim milk I had to drink before my stricture was fixed? Yeah. I can't even drink half a cup of it now without dumping. My pouch is crazy.

So other foods I won't even try anymore because one bite feels like a gut bomb: egg rolls, fried cheese curds, brats. Anything fried is suspect, but I was surprised about the grilled brats... but they are greasy, so it's no wonder. I had attempted the other foods, hoping I could just have one bite to have the satisfication of the taste... but even one little bite is a no-go.

Bread is getting easier to tolerate, but I won't eat it on its own... no dinner rolls, toast. I've eaten sandwiches, but after half a sandwich-worth of bread, I just finish off the meats/cheeses, otherwise I can't finish all the proteins. 

And eggs are still a no-go... I've tried scrambled, over medium, over easy. None of it sits well.

So I'm still working out the food issues, but that's pretty common for the first year. My body has melted. I am going to a waterpark tomorrow with my kids, and I'll be in a swim suit all day. 

I had my six-month surgeon appointment today. I've lost 95% of my excess body weight, and I'm only 2 points away from a normal BMI of 25. And... you could have knocked me over with a feather (skinny person joke)... my blood labs came back completely normal. This is actually a horrible testimony since I haven't taken a multi-vitamin since January, and I eat about two veggies a week. It's mostly due to my age, I think... 

I'm going to post a picture I took of my official before/after photos from my PT's office. I can't stop staring at them. I don't really remember being that heavy! and that wasn't even my heaviest. The first thing I said when I saw my "before" picture was "her poor ankles!" and "no wonder it hurt so bad to walk around the block." 

I had a nightmare last night that I was still fat. I felt so gross and "blob"-y. I woke up and was surprised to feel my skinny self under the covers. I thought the last six months had been a long dream... that I was still pre-op, hoping for a miracle. My husband came upstairs to say goodbye for the day, and I told him about my dream, so he felt obligated to spend five minutes kissing and fondling me. LOL. He actually said "you're so beautiful, i love your body, and let me show you how much." silly man.

This will be my third day of training at my new job. I need prayers for my heart and my attitude. The first night I almost quit. After working with the company for so many years and being forced to train for the lowest level job they have there... I was just feeling so humiliated. (which in turn made me feel like a gigantic snob... what... do I think I'm too good for customer service?)  so I was beating myself up for feeling crappy about it, and then feeling sorry for myself because I hated the job. I just kept praying for a change of attitude. Last night I went to work saying that this job is a grace, a true gift from God. An answer to prayer. And my attitude improved, but I still have a ways to go in that regard. I think I'll feel better when I'm finally on the phones talking to customers. I remember loving that and feeling good about myself when I could help a customer. 

Still waiting to hear from the company in Texas. Both me and my husband are anxiously waiting to get that first phone call. It's in God's hands. But it's one of those situations where it feels so right, we'll be a bit flabbergasted if it's not actually God's will. But doesn't that happen all the time? LOL. 

I had my six month checkup with my PT a couple days ago, and I'm officially down to 158. I know there's some more padding that can be reduced, but as far as they are all concerned, I can be at goal. My dietitian especially warned me that 90 percent of their patients will gain 10-20 pounds from their lowest weight as their bodies find a good, healthy weight. So a goal of 140 is still fine for me... knowing that I could come back up to where I am. 

They were all amazed that I am this small at only six months out. "You look like a one year!" Why thanks. "You must be working so hard!"

NO. The dirty little secret that I wouldn't admit to them is that I don't consider what I'm doing as working hard. I'm not eating much, and I'm somewhat active. I have goals to exercise more as the weather improves (and the six miles I've covered in the last two days attest to that), but days go by without any exercise to speak of. It goes in spurts. And the weight still is coming off. That's the glory of the honeymoon phase, and I know it will be ending soon. I'm just so grateful I'm one of the lucky ones that got pretty much to goal before the honeymoon ended. 

My total weight loss from my highest ever recorded weight is 134 pounds. Since I left the hospital after surgery, I've lost 86 pounds. I think that's pretty typical for WLS. I was just a "lightweight" morbidly obese person, so the 86 pounds brought me down where I needed to be. 

I'm eating more than I was before stricture, but I still have a lot of food anxiety, especially with non-soft foods (unless it's pringles). I haven't had a lot of opportunity to try, though, simply because I haven't been cooking other foods. I tried chicken stir fry without rice, but I couldn't eat more than a quarter cup, so I went back to soup. I'll keep trying, but I'm not stressing about it. My dietitian is fine with what I've been eating. She just wants me to start adding in non-protein items like fruits and vegetables and one serving of whole grains a day just for the nutrients. I'm kind of lucky my surgeon's practice isn't one of the "eat the max amount of protein a day" places. Their philosophy is that if you are eating more than 60 grams of protein a day, you are overeating. I'm in the 50-55g per day range, which they are fine with. It's about 600 calories. Sometimes 800. So I have some wiggle room with calories to add in the other foods. Now I just need money to go grocery shopping again. 

Speaking of which. We are so broke it is painful. We got temporary loans to check advance places that we're now struggling to pay back. I had a small claims lawsuit against me that I settled out of court (credit card), but now I have to pay the balance off very quickly, which is putting us really far behind in the finances. So I called my old company and got a job in the call center. It's going to be kind of humiliating. I was in the marketing department there for 7 years, making twice as much as I'll be making in the call center. But it's something, and it'll at least pay our car payment each month. I'll be working nights and weekends.

My best friends in town are moving to Texas this summer because of a great new job. And while we've been talking about this pending move for the last couple months, they actually asked if we would be willing to move with them and find our own jobs down there. I laughed it off. There's no way I'd be willing to leave my mother's neck of the woods while she's still living. But when the husband got the actual job offer, I teasingly told him to find me a job there too. And he quickly found something for me to apply for. And I did. Now we'll see. That company in Texas has pulled six people from my former employers to do their e-commerce division. They consider my old company to be big-name experience, which I guess it is. So I'm kind of hopeful that I'll at least get an interview. Not sure if my husband will get an interview for the position he applied for there, since unlike with me kind of reaching to say I'm qualified for a position, he's overqualified for his. We'll see. But maybe we'll be moving to Texas. I'm kind of excited about the idea now, though I have no idea how I'll tell my mother. It's in God's hands. If that's where he wants me to go, and there's an opportunity waiting for me, I'll go. It would definitely be the responsible thing for us to be making more money so that we won't be so delinquent with our finances. And if moving to a big city somewhere else is the way that has to happen, then well. I guess I'm glad they have AC down there.

 It is no wonder that WLS patients are at a high risk of depression after surgery. Despite all these great, life-affirming changes going on, some very fundamental things are changing.

How fundamental is a jaw line, you ask? Surprisingly fundamental. The shape of your face is a big trigger for recognition, so when I saw a picture of myself at my niece's birthday party that happened a month ago, I had a panic attack. I knew it was me. After all, I dressed myself that day, and I remember eating half of that mini cupcake. But I did not recognize ME. 

I got fat way back when the awkward puberty phase was ending. My features were a little boxy, and my skin was terrible. I remember having a too-big nose, too-small eyes and a pointy chin.  I have never seen myself looking like this. I didn't recognize my face. I kept asking my husband if that's how I really look or if it is just a weird picture. He said, no... that's how I look. 

I don't get it. I don't get how that could be me. I still feel so fat. My self-image is still as a morbidly obese person. I guess I didn't realize how anti-reality my perception really is until I saw that picture. I know it will take time, but right now, I feel like I'm in someone else's body. I spend at least ten minutes a day feeling my bones. I have a deep collarbone, and I had no idea my shoulder blades had such steep ridges. I'm still 25 pounds from goal, but if it wasn't for the areas of residual fat deposits, I'd feel positively gaunt. 

I had no idea that one could have sag wrinkles on one's saddle bags and butt. I've always had a big bubble butt, sure with cellulite, but with all the fat underneath, it was pretty smooth. Now I have wrinkles. On my BUTT. My inner thighs. Also looking like elephant legs or perhaps a Shar-Pei. My tummy is... hard to describe. There is still a good deal of fat there, but it's dropped into the pannus, or fat overhang with all the extra skin. But when I twist my torso, I can actually see muscle definition since I don't have much fat on my obliques anymore. My arms are the typical "bat-wing" situation, and my arm pits are getting deeper than I thought possible. I wear spanx high-waist undies when I dress up, just to smooth out some of the awkward bulges in the front that look out of place on my dinky body. And the neck waddle. I can't hide the neck waddle. 

I know there are changes. In my head, I see them. I guess I just don't identify them as MY changes. This body is changing. I'm 165 pounds, a perfectly respectable weight. I squeeze comfortably into a size 10 (only tight at the waistband). 

Yesterday I weighed in at 168, which takes my BMI down into the 29s. This is a milestone. It means I'm simply "overweight" and no longer "obese." It's a label that means something.

It also means that any weight I lose now is icing, because my surgeon's office just wanted me into the "overweight" range, which they call "healthy."