Joel Enbom

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Friday, July 13, 2007 - 261 (ish) lbs.

Wow.  we have new font choices.  Very exciting.  I think I'll stick with the ol' comfy Arial.  I'm still traumatized from the unexpected Times New Roman incident of a few posts ago.

I can eat quite a lot now.  So much that I'm a little nervous about it sometimes.  Now, understand that when I say "quite a lot," my reference is relative to the months immediately after the surgery.  I haven't even come close to six cheeseburgers and two orders of fries from Dick's, but I can do two of those cheeseburgers and get to an order of fries a bit later. 

My weight loss has definitely slowed, but it continues.  I had my first bout of weight gain a couple of weeks ago, when I put on a couple of pounds, but the scale was back where it was supposed to be a day later.  I'm blaming it on water weight.

I'm down to a size 40 pair of pants.  Stupid Prices, again, has been the greatest.  I managed to purchase a pair of Claiborne wool slacks for $11.  It'll cost more to dry clean 'em than own 'em.  I didn't buy much clothing when I was at my heaviest, but I suspect my waist size was around 52".  I started high school at a size 36 and finished at a 38/40, so I'm pretty pleased with things.  I can, in fact, now fit into a 38, just not comfortably.  :)

I'm totally digging the whole bald thing.  It took me awhile to realize that I can open my car windows all the way, now, without worrying about hair flying all over my face, tickling me to the point of insanity.  And the time saved is awesome.  Since I no longer need to brush, I'm only three minutes late to work everyday instead of my customary ten.  Yes--seven minutes for hair.  It wasn't the brushing that was time consuming, it was the time spent attempting to locate one of the four brushes we own, only to realize that, with four little girls and a wife, I had no chance of ever finding one. 

I had what is, probably, my biggest weight-loss moment to date a couple of weeks ago.  It was a particularly sunny Tuesday and, with some vacation leave on the books (and no mandatory post to cover--sorry, Kristi), I asked for, and received, the day off.  I raced home, loaded the kids and wife into the standard-issue minivan, and headed north for Birch Bay, home of the Birch Bay Water Slides. 

I love water slides.  But a couple of issues have prevented me from enjoying them for the last twenty years.  On a prior trip to the now-defunct Water Works Park in Issaquah, I misunderstood the simple sunscreen instructions, not noting that it washed off in water.  Eight hours later, I had a particularly severe sunburn that scars my back and shoulders to this day, as well as a fairly justified fear of all things under the sun (literally). 

In addition, trips to watery locales require the donning of one's shirt--when you're a guy, that is; though I hope and pray that, someday, that distinction will be irrelevant--and donning my shirt revealed man-boobs that are the envy of seventh-grade girls everywhere.  You cannot imagine how much I dreaded soccer practice for the fear of ending up on the "skins" side of the "shirts and skins" scrimmaging (so close to alliteration).  Yes, yes--one can just a wear a shirt to the pool.  But, that always struck me as something of a cop out, not like avoiding the situation altogether.

Well, you can figure out, then, that I was forced to confront both of these issues head-on and did so with a teensy-weensy bit of gusto.  Yeah, I've still got some serious man-boobage happenin', but I can convince myself (which doesn't require much talent, btw) that all of the attractive women are pointing at my "masculine pecs," instead.  Whatever works, yaknow?

Anyway, we had a great time.  Except for the pain, that is.  I bonked my head good on "THE BLACK HOLE" waterslide, when I uncustomarily caught some air as I exited a hairpin turn.  The headache lasted for a week, actually.  On the last run of the day, I was trying to retrieve my hysterically-screaming, errant six-year-old from the mid-point of one of the slides, where we had both stopped (one of the "lazy" areas of the slide) when the hell-bent-for-leather preteens behind us came careening toward us, ramming straight into the side of my knee.  Swelling and pain were immediate, but, thankfully, not intolerable.  I shouldn't have forced Amber onto the slide in the first place.  I got what I deserved.

So, that's all that I'm going to write about this time.  I've got to prepare for my online baseball tournament.  My character =-Q-= is the starting pitcher against a bunch of frighteningly good hitters, and I've got some face to save. 

Wish I could be there tomorrow, but, alas, I'm unable.  Next month perhaps.  :)

Best wishes to all. 

joel!

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday, May 23rd, 2007 - 273 lbs.

Really.  Not much to say at all.  Everything is good and uneventful.  :)

Maybe I'll complain tomorrow.

Thursday, April 26, 2007 – 283lbs.

 

Good afternoon, pals.  I’m having a simply lovely day.  I feel particularly alert and sharp, with a bonus spring in my step that exists for no particular reason and to fill no particular need.  Things are just good today.  

I think it might have something to do with viewing “Harold and Kumar go to White Castle” last night.  I really enjoyed that film despite my contrary expectations.  The stranger at the bush has had me giggling all day, today.  Of course, I got to watch the movie in my spiffy (yet still trashy) home theater on the BIG SCREEN with the whole THX sound thing going on.  Now, granted, a talky comedy isn’t the best movie to see in such a setting, but it’s still pretty cool way to spend an evening at home.

I bought new $9 pants from Stupid Prices.  How cool is that?!  I’d gotten used to the premium that I’ve had to pay for the privilege of finding clothes that fit me, but I’m into a “standard” pant-size now, 42x32, so I can wear the cheap stuff.  This is good.  In years past, I had a tendency to “cling” to the items of clothing that actually fit me comfortably (hey, that statement’s sorta funny, actually), which meant that I only regularly wore the same two pairs of pants and the same three shirts over and over again.  Laundry duty sucked, if nothing else.  I keep meaning to get back to the store to pick up a few more of the cheap pants, but I haven’t yet fully acquired the whole clothes-shopping habit.  It’ll come, though, and when it does I’m buying pointy shoes, because that’s what Esquire says I should wear. 

I think I’m finally off of my Tim’s Cascade Chips habit.  Six more big bags of Oberto Teriyaki Turkey Jerky were consumed, however.  I’ve also finished my Big Mac fixation.  I’m facing a bit of a challenge when trying to choose an on-the-road lunch, now, though.  Not much really sounds good ever.  This, too, shall pass.

I had my second bout of WLS-related vomiting last week.  Doesn’t everyone want to hear about that?  Of course they do.  I ate some teriyaki chicken (I make an awesome Teriyaki/Tempura dinner, btw) and then I ate some more.  Within thirty minutes, I felt over-full and an unpleasant pressure/irritation at what I think is the base of my esophagus—not too dissimilar from the feeling I get when I know I’ve got a burp ready to be born, except the burp doesn’t come.  So, of course, I tried to coax the burp upward, by swallowing air, laying on my stomach, etc., but to no avail.  

Eventually, I threw up a mucous-y, amorphous blob of stuff, but this was, clearly, not the redux of my wonderful dinner, as there was—how should I say it—nothing substantial amid the goo.  Another 30 minutes of discomfort followed and another round of unsuccessful attempts to expel a simple belch.  But, then, EUREKA !  I had a good old-fashioned, full-on vomit which seemed almost explosive, the way dinner suddenly came up all at once.

My theory, of course, is that the little, well-chewed bites of Japanese chicken that I ate turned into a big semi-solid ball of chicken on the OTHER SIDE of the silastic ring that Dr. Heap installed.  Attempts to regurgitate the chicken were foiled by the relative narrow passage through the ring until, finally, the chicken ball squeezed through the ring and made its way to the toilet a second later.  

Relief was immediate.  I was a little distressed by the subsequent trickle of blood coming from my nose.  But my wife assured me that vomiting can sometimes cause one to rupture blood-vessels, creating a bloody nose.  I’ll take her explanation for the time being.

As I wrote a few paragraphs earlier, this has happened before, a couple of months ago.  On that night, I’d had my first red-meat steak since the surgery and the chronology described above happened in almost the exact same way.  I’m discovering, I think, that I have to be more sensitive to the amount of dense protein I eat at any given time.  I’ve not had a problem tolerating meat, at all, but I suspect that if I overdo the quantity I might experience this again.  Anyway, it’s all just semi-educated guessing at this point.

On this day, however, all is rosy and thoughts of barf-y evenings are not going to occupy me in the slightest once I finish today’s entry here.  Thanks to those of you who’ve offered support.  And thanks, also, to those who’ve given me support without even knowing it.  

Be sorta good.  J

Saturday, April 14th, 2007, 286 lbs.

All the good things happen to me.  :)  Take today for instance.  After a lengthy drive over the majestic Cascade Mountains, I finally got to meet some of Dr. Heap's finest patients at the monthly support group meeting.  I was greeted with the looks of surprise I'd hoped for as I showed up to a room full of lovely women with friendly smiling faces.   Women I'm accustomed to.  I'm even lucky to hang out with my share of lovely women.  Smiling women, however, are a rarer treat in my life and I'm grateful to have met so many today. 

And what a treat to actually talk about the whole Heap-iffied WLS experience with others who've also been through it.  Frankly, I wish I would have shut up and listened a little more because I value the knowledge that all were so kind to share with me.  

We've, combined, lost over 1KLB!  For a moment, I tried to imagine a heaping (ha!) stack of blubber in the room that weighed that amount.  Shortly thereafter, I tried desperately to rid that thought from my impressionable mind.  

While I was gone, my wife shopped.  Oh.  There's a surprise.  At least she didn't pick up any knick-knacks (sp?). 

Nan was kind enough to give me directions to Ellensburg via Canyon Drive.  Just my kind of road--sheer cliffs and the ever-present danger of a messy death.  Thanks for the tip, Nan.  And 45mph?  Bah!  (And, by the way, the Nan-as-leprechaun image has been completely replaced by the Nan-as-Fonzie image.  The urge to throw her a thumbs-up and cooly shout "Ayyyyyyy" as she motored by was overwhelming.)

I'm definitely going to have to find Miner's.  In exchange for the tip about Miner's (yes, I know I'm probably spelling it wrong), Kari, I'll give you directions to Fat Smitty's by Discovery Bay on the Olympic Peninsula.

Anyway, the drive home was uneventful.  I've been getting into books-on-CD lately, and saw the five hours of drive time as an opportunity to start a new one, "Intensity" by Dean Koontz.  When I left my car for the meeting, Laura was in grave danger.  When I returned to my car after the meeting, she was dead.  Poor Laura.

Ellensburg is really windy.  That's awesome.

Now for the typical Joel-update sorta thing.  I'm down to 286 lbs, from my post-op weight of 410.  I'm not eating particularly healthy foods and enjoying more of them than I would have expected a couple of months ago.  I think a good 30 lbs of my weight loss can be attributed to the hair that I left in the barber shop last month.  I haven't uploaded a new photo, until today, because I wanted to be semi-close to unrecognizable when I popped into the meeting this morning.  Mission accomplished.  :)

I continue to feel really good and haven't experienced any new weirdness in the last couple of months. 

I'm more gassy when I lay on my side than when I lay on my stomach.  That's new and a little odd.

Our home theater is set up, finally.  Eight foot screen and THX sound.  It's AWESOME!

I have two food crutches, lately:  Big Macs (with mayo added for extra danger) and Tim's Cascade Chips (Alder-Smoked BBQ).  Too many calories in both, but I don't go overboard, thank heavens.  My morning cup of coffee is growing again, too.  I'm a cream and sugar guy, so I've really got to watch my consumption of that stuff.  It's a potential weight-loss killer.  

I still haven't found a food that I can't tolerate, though I'm no longer fond of cheese.  In fact, that's one of the reasons why I get the Big Mac--sure there's cheese, but it's buried under a pound of lettuce and almost unnoticeable.  

One sort of odd thing that I've noticed is that if I'm hungry and I think about the food, I can occasionally get an uncomfortable feeling in my gut.  An uncomfortable feeling similar to being full.  Only, however, right after I decide what it is that I'm going to eat.  Told you it was odd.

Ahem--post WLS sex is awesome.  Gawd, I hope my mother isn't reading this.

The move-in is complete and the remodel is at about 75%, though almost all of the hard stuff is out of the way now.  

Thanks for having me today, Heap-Vets.   :)



 

...or something like that.  ;)

It's been awhile since I last wrote and, sadly, this is not the time for a lengthy update.  My family's moving into a new home that has required a good deal of remodeling prior to the move.  It's occupied pretty much all of my free (HA!) time since the middle of January.  It looks like we'll finally be moved in (mostly) early next week and life can almost resume at that point.  

Today, I was in the middle of painting when my mother noted that the heat was not on.  I then noted that neither of us know, yet, how to turn it on.  So, back to the old house to get the wife, who, amazingly, DOES know how to turn it on.  While she's gone and I babysit the napping toddler, I can write.  Yay!  :)

Weight loss has slowed dramatically during this time, though I'm still losing.  My scale's been packed up for awhile, so I'm not exactly sure where I'm at, weightwise.  

I can eat a lot more now than I could a couple of months ago.  I might actually need to think about a little self-discipline, even.  ;)
 
I've developed a helluva sweet tooth since the surgery.  I never went in for the whole chocolate-thing before but I do now, let me tell ya.  I was LOVING Valentine's day.  I even ate the chocolates with the fruity crap in the middle (blech!).

Well, back to the house.  I've got 12 new doors to paint by tonight and I'm only on number seven, after working on 'em for about five hours.  I'll write more in a couple of weeks.  In the meantime, thanks for the kind messages and wishes.  I'm at this site reading everyday, even when I'm not writing. 

Bye!

Tuesday, January 16, 2007 -- 308 lbs

The scale says I'm down 102 lbs since October 4th.  I'm continually re-amazed by how well Dr. Heap's modified VSG has worked and how well I've been able to adjust. 

Friday, January 12, 2007

I learned some interesting stuff today at work when I was reading the most recent issue of Discover magazine (yes, mailroom duty is excruciating). It turns out that abdominal fat, aka visceral fat, produces hormone(s) that likely contribute to the onset of various obesity-related conditions. Other types of body fat play a much less significant role in the development of these conditions. 

The omentum (Dr. Heap called it the "fatty apron") is one of the primary locations where these hormones are produced. That, of course, reminded me that many of Dr. Heap's patients, myself included, had their omentum removed. Some recent studies have suggested that, that alone, might produce substantial reduction in some obesity-related comorbidities. 

So, it turns out, that Dr. Heap's procedure has an extra benefit that shouldn't be undervalued. 

I did a brief search for some supporting material to support what I typed for those who don't have access to the magazine. Here's one link about visceral fat and Type 2 Diabetes: 

http://www.umm.edu/news/releases/omentin.htm 

FYI, trans fats are what "grows" visceral fat. Other types of fatty foods tend to affect subcutaneous body fat, instead.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Usually, my birthday's are a fairly easy matter for my family:  buy me a pizza or two (preferably from Round Table) and watch Joel smile happily for a couple of days.  But my tastes have totally changed and pizza isn't a favorite food anymore.  So, as I approached yesterday's birthday, I enjoyed the thought of my fam struggling to think of a suitable alternate gift.  

Of course, when I got home after work, Sandi shot a "Happy birthday" my way and a few minutes later (right on schedule) proceeded to ask me what I wanted for my birthday dinner.  I swear I could see the desperation in her eyes.  :)  I did my best to keep the chuckling inside and succeeded for a only a couple of seconds.  

Eventually, I decided on Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, made in my time-tested manner, with extra packets of the radioactive-orange cheese powder, and we saved twenty bucks on dinner.  As always, the macncheese was remarkably good.  

My mother was kind enough to bring me cupcakes (nice and small for the WLS patient) which surrounded a mini version of my favorite cake, german chocolate.  I remember reading about a VSG coconut prohibition, however, and have been a little leery of dipping a fork into the cake.  I'll work up the nerve before it gets stale, I'm sure.  :)  I've been making an effort to "take control" of the foods I eat and I suppose I might want to put coconut in its place also.  :)

Anyway, it sucks to be 39, but it's awesome to be doing so much better, physically and mentally, than I was at 38.  Maybe it'll turn into a trend.   :)

Sunday, January 7th, 2007 -- 314 lbs.

Happy new year, friends.  It's been awhile since I've last posted anything to this blog, but I have new Christmas toys to occupy--nay, monopolize--my time.  

Truthfully, there's really not that much to write about anyway.  Well, unless I wish to admit that I've been eating a bit more carelessly in the last week, three months post-op.  I suppose I should.  This will forever be known as the week where I was reintroduced to cheeseburgers or, at least, halves-of-cheeseburgers.  I did a Jumbo Jack, a Whopper Junior, and a Double Cheeseburger in the last few days and here's what I learned:

First of all, my interest in cheese is not what it once was.  Of the three burgers I had, the double cheeseburger was the worst (and it used to be my favorite).  And, oddly, it was the cheese that ruined it for me.  The taste and, to a lesser extent, the texture, just doesn't taste right anymore.  There was too much of it on the DC and I only managed a few bites.  And let's be real--it's nothing but rotten milk, anyway.  Should I really be surprised that it's not the most appetizing thing on a styrofoam plate?

Second, I REALLY like the whole onion-tomato-lettuce-pickle combo on the other two burgers (missing from the DC).  With all of that stuff on the burger, it was a little difficult to get a small bite, but I managed nonetheless.  I was able to eat about half of the Jumbo Jack, which was way too much considering the considerable discomfort it caused afterwards, and about three-quarters of the Whopper Junior (much smaller).  I enjoyed both immensely but suspect that I'll only return to them occasionally.

I also visited Taco Bell, which used to be my lunch of choice, and ordered a Steak Quesadilla, and was mightily disappointed in my distaste for the item.  I used to love those but now find the cheese more than a little offputting.  My pals at the Monroe Taco Bell, who know me as "Baja Man" (I used to order their Baja Sauce on everything.  They always give me a free drink because they're so freaking awesome), loaded up the Quesadilla with a bunch of extra cheese, which only served to make me long for the comfortable confines of any of the local teriyaki shops. 

That's a lot of fast food for one week.  I've managed to rationalize a reason for it as well--and I'm fifty-percent sincere (REALLY!).  This was all about taking control of my post-surgery diet.  I know full well what I'm supposed to eat and, generally, eat it.  Since I already know that I'm going to eat "badly" from time to time, there's some value in knowing what I can and cannot consume.  There's a certain amount of fear involved in approaching "new" food post-op (see the "afraid of bread" post below) and an accompanying sense of accomplishment after happily eating it.  I honestly didn't know what the Jumbo Jack was going to do to my insides, but now I do and I, consequently, have another food option available.  That makes me happy, even if I never go near another Jack-in-the-Box.  I actually think about this stuff, btw.  I'm not making it up.  :)

I was finally successful using my Magic Bullet with Isopure powder.  If I only blend for a second or two, there's much less foam--still some, but not too much.  

I'm down another five pounds.  Maybe more than that, actually.  I posted my weight as 319 lbs. on the previous entry, but my scale read 323 lbs the following day.  So, if you use the latter number, I'm down nine additional pounds.  What difference does it make anyway?  The good news is that the weight continues to come off and, at three months, I'm down 96 pounds.  Yay!

Time to go occupy myself with my Christmas toys.  A SECRET NOTE TO THOSE IN THE KNOW:  I PLAY ON THE VOX SERVER.  LOOK FOR "AUNTEE," A 43 BARBARIAN COERCER.  Sorry to those not in the know.  I can't let too much of my nerd-ness get out to the OH masses.  Update your profiles so I have something to read besides the naughty "Sex after WLS" posts.

--joel!

Saturday, December 23, 2006, 319 lbs. 

Oy...I overate horribly at the mailroom Christmas party yesterday.  Two barbecued meatballs, a spoonful of macaroni salad, about a third of a chicken breast and a deviled egg.  I felt out of it for a good four hours afterward.  Later that evening, I faced my irrational fear of bread and had a slice of pizza.  I tried my best to not be self-conscious about how I was eating it, theorizing that I was thinking too much, and mostly succeeded.  The pizza was okay and I didn't feel like hell afterward.  :)

I can't believe I'm actually typing this--it's been more than a week since my last "long" trip to the bathroom.  I'm not complaining, mind you.  I suppose I'm simply not "wasting" any of the food I eat.  Thankfully, there's no associated discomfort. 

Yay!  A&W makes diet root beer.  My personal preference is for Barq's, but it's hard to find at convenience stores.

I still love my Oberto cocktail pep, but when I looked at the ingredient list and saw that it was mostly "pork hearts" I found myself a little squeamish and I'm now a little less enthusiastic than I was a few days ago.  

KFC Boneless Wings are another lunch option that I like, though at $3.50 for five of 'em, I find them a bit expensive.  There's a bit too much breading, as far as I'm concerned, but they're not bad.  

I spent some time, yesterday, thinking about how awake I've been in the last month.  Prior to surgery, I'd wake up at about 6:30am and find myself tired again by 10am.  After lunch, I'd have a hard time staying awake through the end of the day.  That's all gone now.  I can only remember one time at work in the last month where I found myself missing my pillow.  A lot contributed to the prior fatigue--heart issues and diabetes (undiagnosed until the day of surgery--who knows how long I had it) mostly, I'm sure.  But here I am, getting up an hour earlier, and so much more "with it" than I was just a few short months ago.  It's a really remarkable change, I think, and I'm quite thankful for it.  

Lastly, as I approach the holidays, I'm compelled to share a bit of what I read every day when I go through the mail of the inmates at the prison where I work.  Over and over again I read of mothers missing sons and fathers missing their children and stories of great regret as families torn asunder by crime bemoan the realization that they're not together at a time when familial bonds are often at their strongest.  These families, perhaps, understand more clearly than the rest of us that every day together is a precious commodity and not to be lightly squandered--despite the fact that, so often, they've done just that.  The most hardened criminals--even serial killers--miss their mothers at Christmastime.  While it's very hard to be sympathetic toward someone who's hurt another so badly, their sadness has served as a reminder to me to appreciate what I'm so lucky to have in my life: people that I adore, the opportunity to share a bit of time with them, and, hopefully, the refusal to take any of it for granted.  So, for this holiday, I wish the same good fortune on anyone who is kind enough to read this.

Happy Solstice!