Monday 12-26-11
No, really, it was!
The Sunday night after Thanksgiving was my overnight sleep study. I arrived at the hospital at 8 pm, right on time to begin the paperwork and preparations for the evening. It was pouring buckets of rain and, in typical fashion, the closest parking places were still a lengthy walk away from the hospital entrance. So I wagged myself, my overnight bag and a not-quite-large-enough umbrella from parking lot to hospital door without getting too soaked.
After filling out some forms and getting acquainted with Renee, my sleep tech, together we began the rather involved process of getting me prepped for the night. Electrodes and wires were attached to my temples, jaws (to detect if I grind my teeth in my sleep), ankles (to monitor feet and leg movements), and various spots on my scalp to measure my brain activity and the various levels of my sleep. I also wore a pulse oxymeter on my fingertip to measure my oxygen levels during the night. Then the whole bundle of wires got hooked up to a monitor at my bedside.
The room itself was pretty spartan, although not uncomfortable. There was a television which I never turned on, but for people whose bedtime routine includes TV it is good to have it there. I brought my Bible because reading it is my bedtime routine; I've done it for years, reading through the Bible annually, mostly at bedtime (and occasionally on my lunch hour). I can't really say how much Bible reading has improved the quality of my sleep, but it has certainly improved the quality of my life over the years.
I don't know how most people perceive their sleep study experiences, but it seemed to take me a long time to get to sleep that night. When I went in to discuss the findings of my study, the doctor told me that it had indeed taken me over an hour to get to sleep that night. (There was no clock in my room so I had to estimate how long it took me to fall alseep and how much sleep I thought I had gotten on the questionnaire I filled out the next morning.) Considering I was hooked up to a lot of wires, it was not as uncomfortable as I had thought it would be. I am a side sleeper and I know that I wake up momentarily every time I turn over, I have as long as I can remember. My sleep felt fitful to me, and the findings confirmed that it had been. I only experienced 2 brief periods of REM sleep, and during both periods my oxygen level dropped to about 82%. My diagnosis is mild sleep apnea and there is a CPAP unit in my future (continuous positive airway pressure) to make sure that my breathing and oxygen stay at a healthy level while I sleep.
Sleep apnea is common among obese people and can be a life-threatening condition. Most people are unaware thay they suffer from sleep apnea, which varies from mild to severe, in which cases patients actually stop breathing multiple times per night. Once other causes are ruled out, sleep apnea can also often be resolved with weight loss, surgical or otherwise. While I continue medically supervised weight loss prior to surgery, and as I get adjusted to my CPAP, I am hopeful that my sleep quality will be better and I may feel much more rested and energetic. If it makes the kind of difference my doctor thinks it will, I may feel better than I have in years. That is definitely worth a dark and stormy night spent at the hospital!
Monday, December 26, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Untitled Drug-Addled Blog Project
Thursday 12-22-11
Diva Got Run Over By The "Itis"
I have spent the last week and a half sick. Hard core, fever-running, croupy-coughing, sore-throating, cold-sweating, crazy-dreaming SICK. It began with bronchitis, for which I went to the doctor, although because of scheduling, I could not see my regular doctor. I had to see another doctor in the office. Not a mistake I will repeat if I can avoid it. Dr. "P-is-for-Precious" started by telling me, "I just HATE antibiotics", and then elaborated that every time he sees a red bump come up on his skin, he thinks it's MRSA. Oh, dear Lord. So even with the cough and fever I brought with me to the office, he only grudgingly agreed to prescribe me a Z-Pak, which was clearly insufficient for my infection. He also prescribed an inhaler, which gave me a really bad reaction, keeping me up pacing my floor all night with heart palpitations and fits of tears for no reason. Horrific.
In all fairness, my escalating illness was partly my own fault. Last weekend my choral group joined with our city's symphony orchestra for a series of annual holiday concerts, four concerts in 3 days in full concert garb under hot stage lights packed onto risers in very close proximity with a hundred other singers breathing each other's air. These concerts are physically taxing under the best of circumstances, and since I was sick to begin with they were doubly so. By the end of the 3rd show on Saturday night, I was barely standing, and I did not make the final performance on Sunday. I could feel myself fevering during each of the shows, and I could also feel myself becoming more dehydrated with every phrase I sang. I spent all of Sunday in bed, getting up only for bathroom breaks, drinks and medicine. By this point, the bronchitis/infection had moved into my sinuses and my ears. When I get sick like this I almost feel like I'm going to die...then I wish I'd just go ahead and DIE already.
Monday was orientation for the CPE program. My sweet Hubs asked, "Do you think you'll be able to make it through orientation?" I thought, how could I ask God to bring me this far and then say I'm too sick to show up? So, I showed up, and I did get through the day...with many prayers, mine and those of other people. Orientation was an all-day affair, including a 2-hour walking tour of the hospital where I'll be serving, and the tour included more fever and dehydration. Tuesday was a little calmer a day, an appointment to get my car serviced, followed by breakfast, then a consult and weigh-in at my surgeon's office, then another break before going to my sleep center for the results of the sleep study I had last month. So I had breaks and time to rest, eat something and drink water.
Wednesday, yesterday, Hallelujah! I was able to see my regular doctor and get REAL medicine! Thank You, Lord, for a family doctor who knows me, who will prescribe strong antibiotics when necessary, and who knows what sick looks like when I bring it in with me. I received an injection of Rocephin ( strong broad-spectrum antibiotic) in the office, and prescriptions for Augmentin, (another strong broad-spectrum antibiotic) prednisone for imflammation of the infected areas, and a cough liquid that will help with the coughing and also help me to sleep.
At my weigh-in and consult on Tuesday I had lost another 6 pounds (a pleasant surprise) and according to the printout, it was all fat loss. Yippee! So that is a total of 15 pounds and 3 BMI points down. My next appointment and weigh-in are January 24, so I will have a little time after Christmas and New Year's to recover if I have any holiday mishaps with food.
So far, being sick has killed my appetite so the temptations have been minimal. Being sick, however, has also gotten me wondering how I will deal with illnesses like this once I am post-surgery. My body may respond differently to medicines, and my stomach pouch may not be able to take horse pill-sized antibiotics. At next month's support group meeting I'll be sure to ask about these concerns so I can be prepared for whatever could happen if I get The "Itis" after surgery.
Diva Got Run Over By The "Itis"
I have spent the last week and a half sick. Hard core, fever-running, croupy-coughing, sore-throating, cold-sweating, crazy-dreaming SICK. It began with bronchitis, for which I went to the doctor, although because of scheduling, I could not see my regular doctor. I had to see another doctor in the office. Not a mistake I will repeat if I can avoid it. Dr. "P-is-for-Precious" started by telling me, "I just HATE antibiotics", and then elaborated that every time he sees a red bump come up on his skin, he thinks it's MRSA. Oh, dear Lord. So even with the cough and fever I brought with me to the office, he only grudgingly agreed to prescribe me a Z-Pak, which was clearly insufficient for my infection. He also prescribed an inhaler, which gave me a really bad reaction, keeping me up pacing my floor all night with heart palpitations and fits of tears for no reason. Horrific.
In all fairness, my escalating illness was partly my own fault. Last weekend my choral group joined with our city's symphony orchestra for a series of annual holiday concerts, four concerts in 3 days in full concert garb under hot stage lights packed onto risers in very close proximity with a hundred other singers breathing each other's air. These concerts are physically taxing under the best of circumstances, and since I was sick to begin with they were doubly so. By the end of the 3rd show on Saturday night, I was barely standing, and I did not make the final performance on Sunday. I could feel myself fevering during each of the shows, and I could also feel myself becoming more dehydrated with every phrase I sang. I spent all of Sunday in bed, getting up only for bathroom breaks, drinks and medicine. By this point, the bronchitis/infection had moved into my sinuses and my ears. When I get sick like this I almost feel like I'm going to die...then I wish I'd just go ahead and DIE already.
Monday was orientation for the CPE program. My sweet Hubs asked, "Do you think you'll be able to make it through orientation?" I thought, how could I ask God to bring me this far and then say I'm too sick to show up? So, I showed up, and I did get through the day...with many prayers, mine and those of other people. Orientation was an all-day affair, including a 2-hour walking tour of the hospital where I'll be serving, and the tour included more fever and dehydration. Tuesday was a little calmer a day, an appointment to get my car serviced, followed by breakfast, then a consult and weigh-in at my surgeon's office, then another break before going to my sleep center for the results of the sleep study I had last month. So I had breaks and time to rest, eat something and drink water.
Wednesday, yesterday, Hallelujah! I was able to see my regular doctor and get REAL medicine! Thank You, Lord, for a family doctor who knows me, who will prescribe strong antibiotics when necessary, and who knows what sick looks like when I bring it in with me. I received an injection of Rocephin ( strong broad-spectrum antibiotic) in the office, and prescriptions for Augmentin, (another strong broad-spectrum antibiotic) prednisone for imflammation of the infected areas, and a cough liquid that will help with the coughing and also help me to sleep.
At my weigh-in and consult on Tuesday I had lost another 6 pounds (a pleasant surprise) and according to the printout, it was all fat loss. Yippee! So that is a total of 15 pounds and 3 BMI points down. My next appointment and weigh-in are January 24, so I will have a little time after Christmas and New Year's to recover if I have any holiday mishaps with food.
So far, being sick has killed my appetite so the temptations have been minimal. Being sick, however, has also gotten me wondering how I will deal with illnesses like this once I am post-surgery. My body may respond differently to medicines, and my stomach pouch may not be able to take horse pill-sized antibiotics. At next month's support group meeting I'll be sure to ask about these concerns so I can be prepared for whatever could happen if I get The "Itis" after surgery.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Lead Me Not Into Temptation...I Can Find It All By Myself
Tuesday 12-13-11
Yes, I stole another country song title for my blog
It may be the most wonderful time of the year, but for people with food issues, it is fraught with peril. The Holidays, that sugar-glazed, rum-soaked, cider-and-cookies-and-chocolate-whipped frenzy between Thanksgiving and New Year's Day poses multiple hazards for us, the fatties-trying-to-be-former-fatties of the world. This year for me, pre-surgery, it is simply a matter of avoiding the seasonal onslaught of sweets and goodies because I need to lose pounds before my surgery. Simple enough, right? Next year it will be a whole different set of issues.
Next year at this time, Lord willing and knock wood, I will have undergone my surgery and started losing weight in substantial quantities. I will need to avoid the food gauntlet for the weight-gain reasons, of course. But I will also have fear to motivate me...fear of dumping, clumping and getting really sick.
Dumping syndrome is what happens when a weight-loss surgery patient eats too much of something too sweet or too fatty in too quick a time, resulting in quick and violent cramps, diarrhea and an overall feeling that the stomach pouch and intestines are rebelling against the substance placed inside them. Clumping can happen when the patient consumes too much of something without enough liquid in it to allow it to ease its way into the stomach pouch, resulting in a feeling that the food is trapped, or clumped, at the stomach opening. This has been described to me as an incredibly painful and frightening experience. No thanks, I would prefer to pass on anything painful or frightening.
Even though next year's holidays should find me in the last stage of the post-operative stages of diet and I should have no limitations (i.e. I should be well past the liquid-puree-soft food stages and back to "normal" foods) my holiday dining will never be the same. Seeing that sentence in writing, it looks sad and nostalgic, and in some ways, it feels a little bit sad. I have to remember that the things I am giving up are nothing compared with the healthier me I am giving them up for. I cannot let The Ghost of Christmas Goodies Past derail me from my goals. The Ghost of Good Health Yet to Come reminds me that this process is not about deprivation, but about salvation...saving my health, my joints, my heart and lungs, and my future.
Yes, I stole another country song title for my blog
It may be the most wonderful time of the year, but for people with food issues, it is fraught with peril. The Holidays, that sugar-glazed, rum-soaked, cider-and-cookies-and-chocolate-whipped frenzy between Thanksgiving and New Year's Day poses multiple hazards for us, the fatties-trying-to-be-former-fatties of the world. This year for me, pre-surgery, it is simply a matter of avoiding the seasonal onslaught of sweets and goodies because I need to lose pounds before my surgery. Simple enough, right? Next year it will be a whole different set of issues.
Next year at this time, Lord willing and knock wood, I will have undergone my surgery and started losing weight in substantial quantities. I will need to avoid the food gauntlet for the weight-gain reasons, of course. But I will also have fear to motivate me...fear of dumping, clumping and getting really sick.
Dumping syndrome is what happens when a weight-loss surgery patient eats too much of something too sweet or too fatty in too quick a time, resulting in quick and violent cramps, diarrhea and an overall feeling that the stomach pouch and intestines are rebelling against the substance placed inside them. Clumping can happen when the patient consumes too much of something without enough liquid in it to allow it to ease its way into the stomach pouch, resulting in a feeling that the food is trapped, or clumped, at the stomach opening. This has been described to me as an incredibly painful and frightening experience. No thanks, I would prefer to pass on anything painful or frightening.
Even though next year's holidays should find me in the last stage of the post-operative stages of diet and I should have no limitations (i.e. I should be well past the liquid-puree-soft food stages and back to "normal" foods) my holiday dining will never be the same. Seeing that sentence in writing, it looks sad and nostalgic, and in some ways, it feels a little bit sad. I have to remember that the things I am giving up are nothing compared with the healthier me I am giving them up for. I cannot let The Ghost of Christmas Goodies Past derail me from my goals. The Ghost of Good Health Yet to Come reminds me that this process is not about deprivation, but about salvation...saving my health, my joints, my heart and lungs, and my future.
Monday, December 5, 2011
"He must increase, but I must decrease." John 3:30
Monday 12-5-11
Yes, Virginia, this IS from the Bible...
Today an e-mail came to me that I have been hoping for months would come. I had gathered a group of friends in the summer to pray with The Hubs and me about a course I was thinking of applying for. After completing some fairly arduous essay questions for the application, sending my materials in for consideration and ultimately being asked to come in for the interview, I am now pleased and grateful to say that I have been accepted for an extended unit of CPE (Clinical Pastoral Education) at my local university's hospital. Clinical Pastoral Education is, among other things, a course of study that most chaplains pursue at some point in their educations. I will state here that I don't know if chaplaincy is in my future or not; this unit of CPE will answer a lot of questions for me and help me to determine if God is leading me in that direction. If not, I will still definitely learn a great deal, and what I learn will make me a better caregiver for the hospice families and patients I serve and for the college students I work with, and a better communicator with everyone in my life.
I feel like it is no coincidence that this has all coalesced at the same time as my weight-loss surgery journey. God leads us where He does, when He does, for a reason. And I believe that His timing is always significant. I know that the above verse from John's gospel did not apply specifically to weight loss...but in my case, it certainly can.
Over the next 5 and 1/2 months I will be continuing my medically-supervised weight loss and doing CPE at the same time, and I am thinking that each effort is going to enhance the other one, by giving me very specific goals to work for, and by helping me to distinguish self-care from self-denial. The occasional hunger pangs and growling stomach that have come with my new way of eating and drinking sometimes feel very much like self-denial, especially on cranky, self-pitying days...but I realize that they are actually a part of me finally taking care of myself.
Likewise, this unit of CPE will require a great deal of time, energy and soul-searching. I consider myself to be pretty transparent most of the time, but if I tell the truth, I have to admit that even I have masks that I hide behind sometimes. In my CPE group, those masks will have to come off. I will have to show myself as I am. I know that unmasking myself will feel like another form of self-denial. I also know that in taking off the masks I will actually be caring for myself in a new sense, by allowing myself to be known in a new way by new people. While not a strictly "therapeutic" setting, CPE is a small group situation in which deep issues are discussed with honesty and frankness, balanced with respect for ourselves and our groupmates. It will be intensely personal. This will stretch me, I suspect, far beyond my comfort zone at times. And this stretching will be good for me, even if it hurts a little. Like physical stretching does for the body, CPE will challenge me to stretch my horizons and perceptions, making my heart and mind both stronger and more supple.
I am looking forward to watching how all of this unfolds. God is so good and He has blessed me so greatly. I have a Hubs who loves me after all these years and a core of supportive friends who encourage me unconditionally. It's going to be very cool seeing how I can grow and shrink at the same time!
Yes, Virginia, this IS from the Bible...
Today an e-mail came to me that I have been hoping for months would come. I had gathered a group of friends in the summer to pray with The Hubs and me about a course I was thinking of applying for. After completing some fairly arduous essay questions for the application, sending my materials in for consideration and ultimately being asked to come in for the interview, I am now pleased and grateful to say that I have been accepted for an extended unit of CPE (Clinical Pastoral Education) at my local university's hospital. Clinical Pastoral Education is, among other things, a course of study that most chaplains pursue at some point in their educations. I will state here that I don't know if chaplaincy is in my future or not; this unit of CPE will answer a lot of questions for me and help me to determine if God is leading me in that direction. If not, I will still definitely learn a great deal, and what I learn will make me a better caregiver for the hospice families and patients I serve and for the college students I work with, and a better communicator with everyone in my life.
I feel like it is no coincidence that this has all coalesced at the same time as my weight-loss surgery journey. God leads us where He does, when He does, for a reason. And I believe that His timing is always significant. I know that the above verse from John's gospel did not apply specifically to weight loss...but in my case, it certainly can.
Over the next 5 and 1/2 months I will be continuing my medically-supervised weight loss and doing CPE at the same time, and I am thinking that each effort is going to enhance the other one, by giving me very specific goals to work for, and by helping me to distinguish self-care from self-denial. The occasional hunger pangs and growling stomach that have come with my new way of eating and drinking sometimes feel very much like self-denial, especially on cranky, self-pitying days...but I realize that they are actually a part of me finally taking care of myself.
Likewise, this unit of CPE will require a great deal of time, energy and soul-searching. I consider myself to be pretty transparent most of the time, but if I tell the truth, I have to admit that even I have masks that I hide behind sometimes. In my CPE group, those masks will have to come off. I will have to show myself as I am. I know that unmasking myself will feel like another form of self-denial. I also know that in taking off the masks I will actually be caring for myself in a new sense, by allowing myself to be known in a new way by new people. While not a strictly "therapeutic" setting, CPE is a small group situation in which deep issues are discussed with honesty and frankness, balanced with respect for ourselves and our groupmates. It will be intensely personal. This will stretch me, I suspect, far beyond my comfort zone at times. And this stretching will be good for me, even if it hurts a little. Like physical stretching does for the body, CPE will challenge me to stretch my horizons and perceptions, making my heart and mind both stronger and more supple.
I am looking forward to watching how all of this unfolds. God is so good and He has blessed me so greatly. I have a Hubs who loves me after all these years and a core of supportive friends who encourage me unconditionally. It's going to be very cool seeing how I can grow and shrink at the same time!
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Constant (Cursed!) Cravings
Saturday 12-3-11
Caffeine, Calories and Carbonation
Thanksgiving kicked my butt a little, and led up to a week that kicked it some more. Nothing earth-shakingly bad happened, there has just been a lot going on. I fell off the healthy wagon a bit over Thanksgiving weekend and I was disappointed in myself because of that. And I think it ended up showing on the scale at my first official weigh-in at the surgeon's office because my loss was a little less than I had hoped. Still, I was down 9 pounds, so at least I moved in the right direction.
I'll backtrack a little. Thanksgiving Day I worked my usual 7 am to 6 pm shift at my job, where most of us brought in some kind of food to share. Some of the food was healthy and wonderful, and some of the food was unhealthy... and even more wonderful! At least, it tasted wonderful. My sweet tooth got the better of me and I indulged in some tasty treats (although not with the reckless abandon of years past), followed by some guilt. And the leftovers lingered on into the weekend, but by Saturday I was back to eating my new normal way.
The Sunday night after Thanksgiving I spent the night at the hospital for my sleep study. It was not all that uncomfortable physically, but even on vacation I never sleep well the first night in a strange bed, so my sleep seemed fitful to me. I was happy not to be awakened 2 hours in to hook me up to a CPAP, which I was told might happen if it became obvious that sleep apnea was a problem for me. I may still have it, but at least not a severe enough case to warrant a split-night sleep study. I go in to discuss the findings in a couple of weeks.
The Sunday night study was not at the ideal time because I had an interview the following morning for a class I had applied for and I was concerned about not being at my best for this important meeting. (More on that will follow in a future post.) At any rate, I came home from the hospital in pouring rain with something like Crisco globbed in my hair and itchy residue from the tape that had attached the leads and electrodes to my skin and scalp. Fortunately and by the grace of God, I was able to wash all the glop out of my hair and ended up with a great hair day for my interview, and The Humility Pimple that had threatened over the weekend vanished as well! (Probably more will follow on The Humility Pimple in a future post, too.)
Wednesday I went in for my weigh-in, followed by a consult with the dietician. Talking with her opened my eyes to some things I had been wondering about. In the little over a month since my first visit with the surgeon, I was able, with some difficulty, to begin eating from (and trying to stick to) the recommended foods list, to start paying closer attention to portions, labels and calories, to begin drinking the recommended 64 ounces daily of non-caloric liquids, and to get myself off of caffeine completely. The caffeine withdrawal was not easy for me. I weaned off gradually for about 2 weeks and then quit caffeine altogether, and my head ached every day for at least a portion of the day, until actually just a few days ago. They have not all been migraine-caliber headaches, mostly just persistent, nagging, relentless ones, the kind that make me cranky and irritable. My Hubs has endured less-than-charming company from me the last few weeks. Eliminating caffeine may not be the culprit in all the headaches, but it definitely played a role in some of them.
Seems like I am dealing with a lot of C's, although not the fun kind associated with diamonds. Caffeine is conquered, calories will be ongoing, and I won't even try to tackle carbonation until after the holidays are over. I may need a few bubbles to get me through the stress of Christmas cheer and the foods that accompany it.
I was curious as to why I won't be able to have carbonated drinks after surgery. The dietician told me about a lady she had recently seen who had undergone weight-loss surgery a few years ago and lost most of her excess weight, then started gradually to gain some of it back. She explained that she was still eating properly, controlling portions, eating healthy foods and drinking non-caloric drinks. Then the dietician noticed that the patient had a diet soda in her tote bag and asked if she drank many carbonated drinks. When the lady said she had resumed drinking the bubbles, the dietician explained that the bubbles in sodas expand the stomach pouch, stretching it out so that it gradually needs more food to fill it up. I never even thought about that, but it makes perfect sense.
So after the holidays, one of my New Year's resolutions will be to cut out the bubbles. At least my carbonated drinks of choice for decades have not contained sugar, which is a blessing. Still, I have loved my diet yellow bubbles, diet ginger ale and diet root beer. Saying goodbye to these old friends will be a struggle, but I hope not as much of a headache as giving up caffeine was.
Caffeine, Calories and Carbonation
Thanksgiving kicked my butt a little, and led up to a week that kicked it some more. Nothing earth-shakingly bad happened, there has just been a lot going on. I fell off the healthy wagon a bit over Thanksgiving weekend and I was disappointed in myself because of that. And I think it ended up showing on the scale at my first official weigh-in at the surgeon's office because my loss was a little less than I had hoped. Still, I was down 9 pounds, so at least I moved in the right direction.
I'll backtrack a little. Thanksgiving Day I worked my usual 7 am to 6 pm shift at my job, where most of us brought in some kind of food to share. Some of the food was healthy and wonderful, and some of the food was unhealthy... and even more wonderful! At least, it tasted wonderful. My sweet tooth got the better of me and I indulged in some tasty treats (although not with the reckless abandon of years past), followed by some guilt. And the leftovers lingered on into the weekend, but by Saturday I was back to eating my new normal way.
The Sunday night after Thanksgiving I spent the night at the hospital for my sleep study. It was not all that uncomfortable physically, but even on vacation I never sleep well the first night in a strange bed, so my sleep seemed fitful to me. I was happy not to be awakened 2 hours in to hook me up to a CPAP, which I was told might happen if it became obvious that sleep apnea was a problem for me. I may still have it, but at least not a severe enough case to warrant a split-night sleep study. I go in to discuss the findings in a couple of weeks.
The Sunday night study was not at the ideal time because I had an interview the following morning for a class I had applied for and I was concerned about not being at my best for this important meeting. (More on that will follow in a future post.) At any rate, I came home from the hospital in pouring rain with something like Crisco globbed in my hair and itchy residue from the tape that had attached the leads and electrodes to my skin and scalp. Fortunately and by the grace of God, I was able to wash all the glop out of my hair and ended up with a great hair day for my interview, and The Humility Pimple that had threatened over the weekend vanished as well! (Probably more will follow on The Humility Pimple in a future post, too.)
Wednesday I went in for my weigh-in, followed by a consult with the dietician. Talking with her opened my eyes to some things I had been wondering about. In the little over a month since my first visit with the surgeon, I was able, with some difficulty, to begin eating from (and trying to stick to) the recommended foods list, to start paying closer attention to portions, labels and calories, to begin drinking the recommended 64 ounces daily of non-caloric liquids, and to get myself off of caffeine completely. The caffeine withdrawal was not easy for me. I weaned off gradually for about 2 weeks and then quit caffeine altogether, and my head ached every day for at least a portion of the day, until actually just a few days ago. They have not all been migraine-caliber headaches, mostly just persistent, nagging, relentless ones, the kind that make me cranky and irritable. My Hubs has endured less-than-charming company from me the last few weeks. Eliminating caffeine may not be the culprit in all the headaches, but it definitely played a role in some of them.
Seems like I am dealing with a lot of C's, although not the fun kind associated with diamonds. Caffeine is conquered, calories will be ongoing, and I won't even try to tackle carbonation until after the holidays are over. I may need a few bubbles to get me through the stress of Christmas cheer and the foods that accompany it.
I was curious as to why I won't be able to have carbonated drinks after surgery. The dietician told me about a lady she had recently seen who had undergone weight-loss surgery a few years ago and lost most of her excess weight, then started gradually to gain some of it back. She explained that she was still eating properly, controlling portions, eating healthy foods and drinking non-caloric drinks. Then the dietician noticed that the patient had a diet soda in her tote bag and asked if she drank many carbonated drinks. When the lady said she had resumed drinking the bubbles, the dietician explained that the bubbles in sodas expand the stomach pouch, stretching it out so that it gradually needs more food to fill it up. I never even thought about that, but it makes perfect sense.
So after the holidays, one of my New Year's resolutions will be to cut out the bubbles. At least my carbonated drinks of choice for decades have not contained sugar, which is a blessing. Still, I have loved my diet yellow bubbles, diet ginger ale and diet root beer. Saying goodbye to these old friends will be a struggle, but I hope not as much of a headache as giving up caffeine was.
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