The Real Stuff Of Life
This past week has been a roller-coaster ride! The chamber group I sing with had late rehearsals/concerts every night (although I missed the Tuesday practice due to a back injury). We joined with the city's symphony orchestra for Leonard Bernstein's "Candide". There are numerous configurations of this work; we performed a suite lasting about 45-50 minutes. The music is demanding but also fun, and it was music I had never sung before, so I enjoyed the challenge of learning something new.
Wednesday morning when I stepped on the scale I nearly giggled with glee, because it showed me that I've lost 80 pounds. HOLY MOLY! I went digging through my closet again to see what was in there, and tonight I fit my body into dresses that not only have not been on me in a hundred years, but that I really did not expect to be fitting into yet. The black velvet number I mentioned in a long-ago blog post fits me again...and fits me pretty well. The Hubs may have to talk me someplace fancy for dinner so I can wear it.
Today we went to my cousin's wedding, to which I wore another dress that I have not worn in forever. I will admit to some nervousness about today. It would be my first time seeing a lot of my extended family since before my surgery, and I wanted to look nice. My kinfolks are some of the sweetest, most supportive people in the world, and I heard lots of positive comments about the change in my appearance, as well as genuine concern about how I'm feeling. The wedding was beautiful, an outdoor affair with a fall color scheme and a solo violinist providing exquisite music. A longtime family friend and brilliantly gifted designer made vibrant flower bouquets, corsages and arrangements. The ceremony was heartfelt and memorable, and the radiantly beautiful bride and groom assembled a Unity Cross which will be displayed in their home.
I had the chance to sit alone with my 87-year old Aunt Ruby (the Aunt Ruby whose biscuits were a big part of another previous blog post!) and to have a wonderful visit with her all to myself. She looked lovely today, dressed in a periwinkle-colored top that complemented her silver hair. She has always had a pretty complexion, and even now her face does not fully show her age. We sat together as the sun started to set, enjoying the surroundings and each other's company. She is a touchstone for me and always has been. She is the last of her siblings living, and I know that my chances for visits like this with her won't last forever.
The beauty and joy of the day was tempered a bit for me by news that my 4-year college roommate's father had passed away late last night. Since our school and dorm days, she has been another touchstone for me, one of my core group of people I want to share my life with, my chosen family. No matter how long it has been since we saw each other or spoke on the phone (she lives about 800 miles away from me) it is always as though we just talked yesterday. As I prayed for my cousin, her husband and the new family they formed today, I also asked God to comfort my roomie in the loss of her father. He is in Heaven with the Lord, and reunited with his precious wife, happy and whole in a way he has never been before. Happy in his forever home.
In the grand scheme of things, my weight loss, while important, is only a part of the stuff of life. The joy of new beginnings, the heartache of losses, the moments shared with people we love...those are the things that really matter. My prayer for this whole weight loss adventure is that it will enable me to participate more fully in the life of my family, both blood and chosen, to share their burdens as well as their joys, and to do so for a very long time to come.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Up Where We Belong
Homecoming, Coming Home and The Value of Support
This week I enjoyed some wonderful friendship, fellowship and encouragement from a few different sources. Yesterday was Homecoming at my college (Alma Mater, Hail!) and I took a day off from work so I could attend some of the activities there. I am not a huge sports fan so I didn't stay for the football game. My biggest source of excitement was the music department's annual concert (the Music Sampler) at the church on campus. Each of the department's ensembles presented 2 or 3 selections and the listeners got a good variety of both choral and instrumental music to enjoy. The Sampler is also a huge draw for alumni from all majors, but usually there is a large concentration of music alumni who show up. For me, it's a chance to see my former classmates, enjoy my students from the music fraternity on campus for whom I serve as Chapter Mother, and see current and former faculty members. Yesterday a highlight for me was seeing my college voice professor and getting a photo made together with him. He remembered me (I never take for granted that someone from so long ago will remember who I am because, in my fat-girl insecurity, I have never felt like I was all that memorable a person). This man saw and heard something in my voice that he judged to be worthwhile, and he did his very best to bring out my very best, as a musician and as a human being. I will adore him until I draw my last earthly breath. Every time I open my mouth to sing, I owe him a huge debt of gratitude.
I saw other faculty, past and present, as well as former classmates, some of whom I had pictures made with. It's nice to be less afraid of the camera now that I have shrunk some! I am paying a little bit today for having walked around for most of the day in boots I had not worn in years, but I had a great day. Afterward I stopped by Dad and Bonus Mom's to pick up a pair of jeans she had hemmed for me. Looking at myself in the mirror wearing a pair of jeans (jeans with a zipper and hip pockets!) that fit me better, I could begin to see the shrinkage and the progress made to this point. It's encouraging... and a little strange. My mind needs a chance to catch up to the changes in my body. I'll get there, and if I have trouble, there is a therapist at the surgeon's office I can talk with. It feels good to have that particular safety net in place should I need it.
The night before was a supper club night with our small weight loss support group, another wonderful source of fellowship and encouragement. It had been 3 weeks since our last gathering and we all had ups and downs to share. The woman who initiated our little group told us about something she had read which reported that people who try to lose weight have the best success when they do it in a group. It makes sense. While weight loss is in many ways a solitary endeavor, the support and understanding of like-minded people who share the same struggle can make all the difference in one's success. We have to do the work ourselves, but we can't really do it in a vacuum. Reinforcement is vital.
After I got home from supper club, I auditioned a couple of outfits for Homecoming and The Hubs gave me his input on which worked better. I was able to try them on with new, smaller bras that I had ordered and been praying would arrive in time to wear for Homecoming. The ones I've been wearing were just too large around the ribcage and were not offering great support any longer. What a relief to put on undergarments that fit properly and hitched The Girls up to their rightful place! I could almost hear them sighing in renewed comfort and singing "Up Where We Belong"! Well-fitting underwear of any kind improves both posture and confidence, and as I continue to shrink, it will also serve to hitch things up and pull things in. There is an Internet joke that has gone around for the last several years about how good friends are like a well-fitting bra... always there to offer support! I was reminded this week just how true it is, and I am so grateful for all the support in my life.
This week I enjoyed some wonderful friendship, fellowship and encouragement from a few different sources. Yesterday was Homecoming at my college (Alma Mater, Hail!) and I took a day off from work so I could attend some of the activities there. I am not a huge sports fan so I didn't stay for the football game. My biggest source of excitement was the music department's annual concert (the Music Sampler) at the church on campus. Each of the department's ensembles presented 2 or 3 selections and the listeners got a good variety of both choral and instrumental music to enjoy. The Sampler is also a huge draw for alumni from all majors, but usually there is a large concentration of music alumni who show up. For me, it's a chance to see my former classmates, enjoy my students from the music fraternity on campus for whom I serve as Chapter Mother, and see current and former faculty members. Yesterday a highlight for me was seeing my college voice professor and getting a photo made together with him. He remembered me (I never take for granted that someone from so long ago will remember who I am because, in my fat-girl insecurity, I have never felt like I was all that memorable a person). This man saw and heard something in my voice that he judged to be worthwhile, and he did his very best to bring out my very best, as a musician and as a human being. I will adore him until I draw my last earthly breath. Every time I open my mouth to sing, I owe him a huge debt of gratitude.
I saw other faculty, past and present, as well as former classmates, some of whom I had pictures made with. It's nice to be less afraid of the camera now that I have shrunk some! I am paying a little bit today for having walked around for most of the day in boots I had not worn in years, but I had a great day. Afterward I stopped by Dad and Bonus Mom's to pick up a pair of jeans she had hemmed for me. Looking at myself in the mirror wearing a pair of jeans (jeans with a zipper and hip pockets!) that fit me better, I could begin to see the shrinkage and the progress made to this point. It's encouraging... and a little strange. My mind needs a chance to catch up to the changes in my body. I'll get there, and if I have trouble, there is a therapist at the surgeon's office I can talk with. It feels good to have that particular safety net in place should I need it.
The night before was a supper club night with our small weight loss support group, another wonderful source of fellowship and encouragement. It had been 3 weeks since our last gathering and we all had ups and downs to share. The woman who initiated our little group told us about something she had read which reported that people who try to lose weight have the best success when they do it in a group. It makes sense. While weight loss is in many ways a solitary endeavor, the support and understanding of like-minded people who share the same struggle can make all the difference in one's success. We have to do the work ourselves, but we can't really do it in a vacuum. Reinforcement is vital.
After I got home from supper club, I auditioned a couple of outfits for Homecoming and The Hubs gave me his input on which worked better. I was able to try them on with new, smaller bras that I had ordered and been praying would arrive in time to wear for Homecoming. The ones I've been wearing were just too large around the ribcage and were not offering great support any longer. What a relief to put on undergarments that fit properly and hitched The Girls up to their rightful place! I could almost hear them sighing in renewed comfort and singing "Up Where We Belong"! Well-fitting underwear of any kind improves both posture and confidence, and as I continue to shrink, it will also serve to hitch things up and pull things in. There is an Internet joke that has gone around for the last several years about how good friends are like a well-fitting bra... always there to offer support! I was reminded this week just how true it is, and I am so grateful for all the support in my life.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Four Months (And Three Days) Since Surgery
"Wow Moments", The Latest Checkup and Last Year's Face
Today was 4 months and 3 days since my weight loss surgery, and I had a checkup with the dietician and the exercise physiologist at the surgeon's office. My blood pressure was 104/68, which is pretty standard for me. As for my weight loss, I am still ahead of schedule, almost at the 6-month mark. The dietician and exercise physiologist were both very pleased with my progress and I got an "A-Plus" for the day. According to my scale, I have now lost 76 pounds. Thank You, Lord, for a chance to regain my health and strength.
In the last couple of weeks I have had a few "wow moments". In the course of just a couple of days I ran into 2 different people at work whom I had not seen since surgery. I ran into one in the lobby, asked how she was getting along and we chatted for a few minutes. She looked at me for a second and said, "You look wonderful!" I never had the chance to tell her about my surgery so I don't think she knows that I had it. The other one stopped on her way out of the parking garage to holler at me from her car window and say, "You look great!" She definitely knows I had surgery because I told her beforehand that I was going to do so. As I have stated before, compliments are not why I did it...but they are nice.
Over the weekend we had the chance to visit with The Hubs's brother and his wife, as well as my out-of-state sister-in-law who was in town for a visit. It was great to see them all, catch up on the latest family gossip and enjoy their support of my decision and my progress along the weight loss path. As we were getting ready to go, I began to say something to The Hubs and then stopped short. He asked what I was going to say, and I said that I was going to ask a ridiculous question: Would my weight loss be visible? He replied that yes, it is indeed visible and yes, it was a ridiculous question. Then he had a question for me. He said, "There's always going to be a little fat girl living inside you, isn't there?" I said, probably so.
It got me thinking about self-image. How is it that we can look in the mirror and see ourselves one way, then when confronted by a photograph we see something totally different? I had trouble realizing just how large I had become until a little over a year ago when I was photographed as part of the United Way campaign at work. Digital cameras give us the chance to view in an instant the captured images, as well as to delete the ones we don't like! I went in for my photo shoot, a very brief affair, after which the photographer gave me the chance to view the shots he had just snapped. Head-and-shoulders and waist-up shots were all OK...but I was completely unprepared for the full-length shots he had taken. I looked like a basketball perched on toothpick legs! After blinking and smiling my jolly-fat-girl smile, I asked that only the waist-up and/or head-and-shoulders shots be used for the campaign, and my request was honored (as far as I know, at least, I never saw any full-length shots in any of the campaign materials posted around the workplace).
They are using images from last year's shoot in this year's campaign as well. When I pass by one of the water fountains, I see my face staring at me. Last year's face. Still mine, but much fuller and rounder than the face I have this year. Over the weekend at my brother-in-law's house, my sister-in-law wanted to take a picture of me and The Hubs together. It's the first photo taken of me since surgery, and the first time I've seen myself other than in the mirror. I have to admit, the change astonished me, in a good way. But I still asked for only waist-up shots! Another part of the Ever-Changing Never-Changing. I am still quite solidly entrenched in Plus-Size World, but much less so than a year ago. And no matter how much I shrink, my self-perception will never be completely accurate. I don't think anyone's can be. The mirror always looks different than the photograph.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Things That Go "Clump" In The Night
The Midnight Ride of The Vomit Brigade
I wrote in a previous post about some of the challenges facing patients after weight loss surgery, including the hazards of clumping and dumping. Clumping/dumping can happen when the patient either: eats the wrong thing or something that is too dry; eats too much; or eats too fast. In the case of dumping, the food goes too quickly into the intestinal tract and is promptly dumped out, shall we say, south of the border, usually with severe cramps as well. Clumping happens north of the border, when the food clumps up at the entrance to the stomach and feels like it will not go down. It is painful, scary and nauseating. Some patients describe the sensation as what they imagine a heart attack would feel like.
I've been pretty fortunate not to have experienced much of either kind of post-food episode. However, a couple of nights ago, after having a long day and going too many hours without a meal, I clumped, big time. I was eating baked chicken, a perfectly fine food choice for me. But my belly was empty and I ate my chicken too fast, and I ended up making myself sick. Shortly after I finished my supper I began to feel intense pain behind my breastbone combined with overwhelming waves of nausea, and I eventually vomited. This is a big deal in my world because I very rarely throw up, and when I do it's usually caused by something needing medical attention.
These details are not pretty, I realize, but they are part and parcel of the journey I am on right now. Lots of people assume that weight loss surgery and recovery glide by without a hitch, patients magically shrink without any effort and life after surgery is all rainbows and unicorns and fairy dust. This is not the case at all. As my pain and nausea began, I knew what was happening to me and knew that I was not having a heart attack, that it would eventually pass, and I tried to relax and take slow, deep breaths until it did. Unfortunately, this episode was not to pass without the intervention of the Vomit Brigade.
What did I learn from all this unpleasantness? First of all, no matter how empty my belly feels, I cannot rush a meal. EVER. Secondly, I learned that throwing up after surgery will not kill me, because it didn't. It actually happens to lots of patients. I was just really fortunate to have avoided it this long. And thirdly, I learned that even this far out from surgery, my body is still very much in healing mode. My recovery is not complete yet. There is a reason patients don't enter phase 4 diet until 6 months post-op.
Having said all this, I am happy to report that the morning after the Ride of the Vomit Brigade, I felt pretty much back to normal, with only a headache to remind me of the previous night's adventure. And as unpleasant and painful as it was, I hope never to forget the experience and its sensations. If I forget history, I may be bound to repeat it. NOT what I want.
I wrote in a previous post about some of the challenges facing patients after weight loss surgery, including the hazards of clumping and dumping. Clumping/dumping can happen when the patient either: eats the wrong thing or something that is too dry; eats too much; or eats too fast. In the case of dumping, the food goes too quickly into the intestinal tract and is promptly dumped out, shall we say, south of the border, usually with severe cramps as well. Clumping happens north of the border, when the food clumps up at the entrance to the stomach and feels like it will not go down. It is painful, scary and nauseating. Some patients describe the sensation as what they imagine a heart attack would feel like.
I've been pretty fortunate not to have experienced much of either kind of post-food episode. However, a couple of nights ago, after having a long day and going too many hours without a meal, I clumped, big time. I was eating baked chicken, a perfectly fine food choice for me. But my belly was empty and I ate my chicken too fast, and I ended up making myself sick. Shortly after I finished my supper I began to feel intense pain behind my breastbone combined with overwhelming waves of nausea, and I eventually vomited. This is a big deal in my world because I very rarely throw up, and when I do it's usually caused by something needing medical attention.
These details are not pretty, I realize, but they are part and parcel of the journey I am on right now. Lots of people assume that weight loss surgery and recovery glide by without a hitch, patients magically shrink without any effort and life after surgery is all rainbows and unicorns and fairy dust. This is not the case at all. As my pain and nausea began, I knew what was happening to me and knew that I was not having a heart attack, that it would eventually pass, and I tried to relax and take slow, deep breaths until it did. Unfortunately, this episode was not to pass without the intervention of the Vomit Brigade.
What did I learn from all this unpleasantness? First of all, no matter how empty my belly feels, I cannot rush a meal. EVER. Secondly, I learned that throwing up after surgery will not kill me, because it didn't. It actually happens to lots of patients. I was just really fortunate to have avoided it this long. And thirdly, I learned that even this far out from surgery, my body is still very much in healing mode. My recovery is not complete yet. There is a reason patients don't enter phase 4 diet until 6 months post-op.
Having said all this, I am happy to report that the morning after the Ride of the Vomit Brigade, I felt pretty much back to normal, with only a headache to remind me of the previous night's adventure. And as unpleasant and painful as it was, I hope never to forget the experience and its sensations. If I forget history, I may be bound to repeat it. NOT what I want.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Dr. FancyPants and The Stirrups of Doom
Surviving the Annual Indignity
First thing in the morning I will be in the office (and stirrups) of my gynecologist, affectionately known as Dr. FancyPants. My family doctor laughs every time he hears me call my lady-parts doctor by that moniker. I figure since I am in a position of such vulnerability, the least I can do is give the guy a snarky name.
I have written previously and extensively about The Girls and their care and containment. But there are important concerns south of the border as well, and it is vital that we take care of those tropical vacation spots by seeing the appropriate medical professionals, having the proper screenings and tests done annually, and keeping track of our cycles on the calendar. These simple steps can alert us to possible health problems and even save our lives.
I got my period when I was 11 years old. I was fortunate that I had a Mama who had told me what was coming, and she told me in a way that didn't freak me out or make me think I was going to die when it came. Her Mama had told her nothing about it at all, and when her period came she thought something was horribly wrong with her. Those things just didn't really get discussed back then, certainly not as freely as they are today. I mean, I am writing a blog entry about it, for Patti's sake!
The Annual Indignity and the Slam-o-Gram are not things that most ladies would honestly say that they look forward to with glee and jubilation, but we realize how necessary they are. Most of us know someone who has been touched by a gynecologic cancer, or a cancer scare. Even I have had the occasional "abnormal" Pap test result, and have endured the re-testing and nervous waiting for the result that I hoped would be normal the second time around. I've been fortunate not to have any serious problems. Knock wood and Lord willing, all that stuff down there will continue to be OK.
Truth be told, Pap tests, pelvic exams and mammograms are not all that unpleasant, or at least, they shouldn't be. It can be a little uncomfortable, and that discomfort is due largely just to being undressed. With these tests there is usually some pressure, but there should not be pain. If there is pain, there is a problem. Sometimes the person performing the exam is just too rough. Sometimes, though, the pain is a symptom of something wrong (cyst, tumor, etc.), in which case it is good that the patient is getting examined in the first place. Early detection can save lives.
I'll discuss with Dr. FancyPants my new normal, the weight loss surgery and what it's doing to my hormones and lady parts. Maybe he will have suggestions for ways I can mitigate some of the changes I am experiencing. I'd be happy if he offered to scoop out my uterus with a rusty spoon, but somehow, I doubt that offer will be forthcoming. I will pray for normal test results and a good rest of the day. I will be thankful for all the doctors who take care of me and help me to take care of myself. And I will say a prayer for Dr. FancyPants, because I know what I look like undressed, and no one should have to start their day with a naked Diva on their examining table!
First thing in the morning I will be in the office (and stirrups) of my gynecologist, affectionately known as Dr. FancyPants. My family doctor laughs every time he hears me call my lady-parts doctor by that moniker. I figure since I am in a position of such vulnerability, the least I can do is give the guy a snarky name.
I have written previously and extensively about The Girls and their care and containment. But there are important concerns south of the border as well, and it is vital that we take care of those tropical vacation spots by seeing the appropriate medical professionals, having the proper screenings and tests done annually, and keeping track of our cycles on the calendar. These simple steps can alert us to possible health problems and even save our lives.
I got my period when I was 11 years old. I was fortunate that I had a Mama who had told me what was coming, and she told me in a way that didn't freak me out or make me think I was going to die when it came. Her Mama had told her nothing about it at all, and when her period came she thought something was horribly wrong with her. Those things just didn't really get discussed back then, certainly not as freely as they are today. I mean, I am writing a blog entry about it, for Patti's sake!
The Annual Indignity and the Slam-o-Gram are not things that most ladies would honestly say that they look forward to with glee and jubilation, but we realize how necessary they are. Most of us know someone who has been touched by a gynecologic cancer, or a cancer scare. Even I have had the occasional "abnormal" Pap test result, and have endured the re-testing and nervous waiting for the result that I hoped would be normal the second time around. I've been fortunate not to have any serious problems. Knock wood and Lord willing, all that stuff down there will continue to be OK.
Truth be told, Pap tests, pelvic exams and mammograms are not all that unpleasant, or at least, they shouldn't be. It can be a little uncomfortable, and that discomfort is due largely just to being undressed. With these tests there is usually some pressure, but there should not be pain. If there is pain, there is a problem. Sometimes the person performing the exam is just too rough. Sometimes, though, the pain is a symptom of something wrong (cyst, tumor, etc.), in which case it is good that the patient is getting examined in the first place. Early detection can save lives.
I'll discuss with Dr. FancyPants my new normal, the weight loss surgery and what it's doing to my hormones and lady parts. Maybe he will have suggestions for ways I can mitigate some of the changes I am experiencing. I'd be happy if he offered to scoop out my uterus with a rusty spoon, but somehow, I doubt that offer will be forthcoming. I will pray for normal test results and a good rest of the day. I will be thankful for all the doctors who take care of me and help me to take care of myself. And I will say a prayer for Dr. FancyPants, because I know what I look like undressed, and no one should have to start their day with a naked Diva on their examining table!
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Three Months Since My Surgery
And time for the monthly update...and a "monthly" update
I'll start with basic vital statistics. Since surgery I am down 42 pounds, and 69 pounds total. Again, it's not lightning-fast, but WAY better than before the surgery. The hair loss is still a nuisance, but I am hopeful that it doesn't become more than that.
I'll be honest here, August just sucked for weight loss. I hit my first real plateau since my surgery. My scale shows not only my weight, but also my body fat and water percentages. I could see my body fat creeping down and my water creeping up, and my weight not moving much at all. Weight loss patients experience the occasional plateau, so I tried not to stress about it too much.
Finally my weight began to move again in the right direction...after I received a visit from The Cramp Fairy. Lady hormones, cycles and birth control are issues discussed in the last big half-day class before surgery. We learn that, even if a woman thinks she has gone through menopause, once weight loss surgery happens and she begins to lose weight and body fat, hormones can run amok and, as a result, irregular or nonexistent menstrual cycles can come back, and with a vengeance. For this reason, we are told to begin using an extra birth control method if we don't wish to become pregnant.
This concludes the educational portion of this blog post.
I'm 48 years old. I've been experiencing night sweats off and on since I was 30. My cycles started becoming really irregular/skipping when I was about 40. I don't plan on having any human children and would be more than glad to donate my uterus for scientific research. Every time I get a period, I pray that it will be my last one. So naturally I was not thrilled when The Cramp Fairy arrived. But her arrival did explain my rising water levels and at least part of my plateau.
Aside from The Cramp Fairy's visit, some cool things have happened. My shape is changing. I found my waist yesterday! My ankles aren't bothering me nearly as much now. My clothes continue to get bigger, so much so that I started digging through my closet to see what I have in smaller sizes that I can work with. I found some pants that fit better, which is good, but they lack pockets, which is sad. (I believe everything should have pockets, including nightgowns and pajamas.) I'll wear the pocketless pants and find someplace else to carry my phone.
Probably in my bra. There is a little more room in there now as well!
I'll start with basic vital statistics. Since surgery I am down 42 pounds, and 69 pounds total. Again, it's not lightning-fast, but WAY better than before the surgery. The hair loss is still a nuisance, but I am hopeful that it doesn't become more than that.
I'll be honest here, August just sucked for weight loss. I hit my first real plateau since my surgery. My scale shows not only my weight, but also my body fat and water percentages. I could see my body fat creeping down and my water creeping up, and my weight not moving much at all. Weight loss patients experience the occasional plateau, so I tried not to stress about it too much.
Finally my weight began to move again in the right direction...after I received a visit from The Cramp Fairy. Lady hormones, cycles and birth control are issues discussed in the last big half-day class before surgery. We learn that, even if a woman thinks she has gone through menopause, once weight loss surgery happens and she begins to lose weight and body fat, hormones can run amok and, as a result, irregular or nonexistent menstrual cycles can come back, and with a vengeance. For this reason, we are told to begin using an extra birth control method if we don't wish to become pregnant.
This concludes the educational portion of this blog post.
I'm 48 years old. I've been experiencing night sweats off and on since I was 30. My cycles started becoming really irregular/skipping when I was about 40. I don't plan on having any human children and would be more than glad to donate my uterus for scientific research. Every time I get a period, I pray that it will be my last one. So naturally I was not thrilled when The Cramp Fairy arrived. But her arrival did explain my rising water levels and at least part of my plateau.
Aside from The Cramp Fairy's visit, some cool things have happened. My shape is changing. I found my waist yesterday! My ankles aren't bothering me nearly as much now. My clothes continue to get bigger, so much so that I started digging through my closet to see what I have in smaller sizes that I can work with. I found some pants that fit better, which is good, but they lack pockets, which is sad. (I believe everything should have pockets, including nightgowns and pajamas.) I'll wear the pocketless pants and find someplace else to carry my phone.
Probably in my bra. There is a little more room in there now as well!
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
What's Not Turning Grey Is Turning Loose
Why weight is not the only thing lost after weight loss surgery
I am almost 3 months out from my surgery, which is hard to fathom in many ways. Time really does fly, as trite as that statement is. And, as in my previous surgery/anesthesia experiences, I have begun to notice a little more hair coming out than usual when I shampoo.
In 1995 when I had my gallbladder removed, I was given valuable information about post-surgical hair loss, not by my doctor but by my hairdresser. He told me that when a patient is put under general anesthesia, some increased shedding of hair will occur a few months later, that it is generally temporary and not a big deal. I have found this to be the case each time I have had surgery. In the pre-op class before my weight loss surgery we were also told that we could expect to experience some hair loss in the months after surgery, because our bodies are experiencing lots of metabolic, hormonal and nutritional changes, and again, we were assured that it is not total and generally only temporary.
For lots of women, hair is a big deal. If a woman says she doesn't really think much about her hair, ask her to shave her head and watch her reaction! Hair loss can be traumatic for anyone, no matter what causes it, but in our society it can be especially devastating for women. Aside from Sinead O'Connor in the "Nothing Compares 2 U" video, we haven't been exposed much to beautiful, bald women, at least, not enough to make female baldness seem normal. So much of our appearance, and how we feel about it, stems from how we feel about our hair. Hair is a multi-million dollar industry in our country, both in product formulation and in marketing. Cleansing, conditioning, coloring, curling/straightening...on and on.
I have always been a brunette, both in my soul and on my head. I have a big, bold, brunette personality. I have never been tempted to experiment with another color. Some women play around with their hair color like they change socks, but not me. When I color it is because the grey is showing enough to really bug me! Grey hairs show up much more vividly in darker hair, after all, because of the contrast.
My first greys started coming in when I was 19 years old and a sophomore in college. I had a horrible start to the fall semester which included a viral infection in my throat that sent me to the hospital for several days, as well as some other personal issues, and a lot of stress. I earned those first grey hairs...and all the ones since then as well! When they first showed up they were more of a curiosity than anything else.
The Hubs will not be happy that I am sharing this, but it's pertinent (and kind of funny now). When I was 28 years old, my Aunt Mary died, and all of us were in the parlor at the funeral home for the receiving of friends. I was sitting on the end of a couch, and The Hubs and one of my cousins were a few spaces down from me. My cousin remarked, "Looks like your wife is getting a little snow on the roof!" To which The Hubs responded, "I think it's the beginning of a blizzard!" I heard this exchange and decided that it was time to try coloring my hair.
I know people who have beautiful, full, radiantly silver grey hair. Aunt Mary in the paragraph above had the best hair of anyone in her family, going from jet black to salt & pepper to snowy white in the front by the time she died. Her hair never seemed to have an awkward stage as her grey came in. I color now and then because I'm not happy with the way my grey is coming in. My personality does not thrive in grey patches and streaks!
People do all kinds of things to change their appearances. I have 5 ear piercings, but no piercings anyplace else. I have no tattoos, but I have friends who have lots of them. I wear makeup, but I have friends who don't. And someday I expect not to color my hair any more...or maybe not. It just depends on how things go.
For now, I'm just glad there is hair to color, even if a little more is coming out right now. If it starts coming out in handfuls, I guess I'll wear hats. In the grand scheme of things, it's just hair...but it's my hair, and, like the rest of me, I'd like it to be healthy. That's what this whole process is all about.
I am almost 3 months out from my surgery, which is hard to fathom in many ways. Time really does fly, as trite as that statement is. And, as in my previous surgery/anesthesia experiences, I have begun to notice a little more hair coming out than usual when I shampoo.
In 1995 when I had my gallbladder removed, I was given valuable information about post-surgical hair loss, not by my doctor but by my hairdresser. He told me that when a patient is put under general anesthesia, some increased shedding of hair will occur a few months later, that it is generally temporary and not a big deal. I have found this to be the case each time I have had surgery. In the pre-op class before my weight loss surgery we were also told that we could expect to experience some hair loss in the months after surgery, because our bodies are experiencing lots of metabolic, hormonal and nutritional changes, and again, we were assured that it is not total and generally only temporary.
For lots of women, hair is a big deal. If a woman says she doesn't really think much about her hair, ask her to shave her head and watch her reaction! Hair loss can be traumatic for anyone, no matter what causes it, but in our society it can be especially devastating for women. Aside from Sinead O'Connor in the "Nothing Compares 2 U" video, we haven't been exposed much to beautiful, bald women, at least, not enough to make female baldness seem normal. So much of our appearance, and how we feel about it, stems from how we feel about our hair. Hair is a multi-million dollar industry in our country, both in product formulation and in marketing. Cleansing, conditioning, coloring, curling/straightening...on and on.
I have always been a brunette, both in my soul and on my head. I have a big, bold, brunette personality. I have never been tempted to experiment with another color. Some women play around with their hair color like they change socks, but not me. When I color it is because the grey is showing enough to really bug me! Grey hairs show up much more vividly in darker hair, after all, because of the contrast.
My first greys started coming in when I was 19 years old and a sophomore in college. I had a horrible start to the fall semester which included a viral infection in my throat that sent me to the hospital for several days, as well as some other personal issues, and a lot of stress. I earned those first grey hairs...and all the ones since then as well! When they first showed up they were more of a curiosity than anything else.
The Hubs will not be happy that I am sharing this, but it's pertinent (and kind of funny now). When I was 28 years old, my Aunt Mary died, and all of us were in the parlor at the funeral home for the receiving of friends. I was sitting on the end of a couch, and The Hubs and one of my cousins were a few spaces down from me. My cousin remarked, "Looks like your wife is getting a little snow on the roof!" To which The Hubs responded, "I think it's the beginning of a blizzard!" I heard this exchange and decided that it was time to try coloring my hair.
I know people who have beautiful, full, radiantly silver grey hair. Aunt Mary in the paragraph above had the best hair of anyone in her family, going from jet black to salt & pepper to snowy white in the front by the time she died. Her hair never seemed to have an awkward stage as her grey came in. I color now and then because I'm not happy with the way my grey is coming in. My personality does not thrive in grey patches and streaks!
People do all kinds of things to change their appearances. I have 5 ear piercings, but no piercings anyplace else. I have no tattoos, but I have friends who have lots of them. I wear makeup, but I have friends who don't. And someday I expect not to color my hair any more...or maybe not. It just depends on how things go.
For now, I'm just glad there is hair to color, even if a little more is coming out right now. If it starts coming out in handfuls, I guess I'll wear hats. In the grand scheme of things, it's just hair...but it's my hair, and, like the rest of me, I'd like it to be healthy. That's what this whole process is all about.
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