June 2007 posts
I was tagged by a childhood friend on MySpace to do a ten-random facts 'bout me. This would be easier if I weren't already sharing nearly everything. This is difficult. Trying to think of one is hard enough.
- I get claustrophobic if you're up in my personal space. Even if you're my kid, that's me saying "don't hang on me."
- I got into college on academic probation. I was told that I would have to maintain a certain GPA to stay in - because my high school grades were so randomly terrible. I had A's + F's. I was going to Johnson + Wales in Rhode Island for Advertising and Public Relations. It never materialized, because, well, that costs money. I went to a more local community college instead, in an adult evening course program, and quit very quickly because I couldn't make a balance sheet work in my accounting class.
- I have sensory issues - I cannot eat many foods because of the way they feel or smell. This isn't related to weight loss surgery, it's always been this way. Don't even think of coming near with with bananas, peanut butter, seafood, raisins, pudding, milk, eggs etc.. I will gag.
- I forgot to change my name when I got married. I didn't realize it until the first time I had to fill out paperwork for a "real job" - and I needed a new copy of my Social Security Card. It was then, I realized, Beth _________ never existed! We purchased several houses with my name not being correct! So, I just hyphenated in '05 when I found my little mistake.
- No one believes me when I say "I want it all cut off." They never take enough off. They don't think I am serious when I tell them, I want it cut like you would a boy, just messier. Today, this girl nearly got it right! So, when folks ask me about my hair-cut - and how to get it done the same - I have no clue what to tell them, because my hair is NEVER what I asked for it to be.
- The surgeon who did my first consult for a tummy tuck told me to wink-wink "rub poison ivy" on my belly when it came time to take the photos for insurance approval. Little did I know I'd be pregnant soon after and it wouldn't happen.
- I bought a glucose-meter. Bob stuck me three separate times before we figured out how to use the damn thing. He checked his own level today while I was out - and he felt "sick" --- he was 37. WTF?
- Driving home on the highway - it smells like DEAD ROTTING CORPSES. Two days in a row I have smelled this odor. I almost feel like pulling over and finding the bodies. Sick.
- I yelled at the boy at McDonald's today. I ordered an iced coffee. He did not ask me what I wanted in it and handed me a obviously full of cream/sugar coffee. I said, "What's in that?" He said, "Cream and sugar, obviously." I nearly lost it.
- I wonder, many times... why people are reading my babble here... and reading the comments, but do not say anything. Some people comment repeatedly - but most just peek and leave.
Today's plans? Go to police department where my car was vandalized, file report.
Now, our cars have been keyed at various locations - mostly out of area grocery stores when Bob is traveling for work - but nothing has EVER happened in this particular parking lot until yesterday. I park far away with this vehicle - because it's big and I have the potential to take out the side of your hot little BMW if I don't. Yesterday, I parked with an "island" on one side, and no further cars on the other - figuring the least potential damage would occur there - because if someone had to park next to me - it would be on one side.
Like I said, it's a big ****ing vehicle, and I do not want to hit someone else. I remember telling my son about the Jaguar in front of us - and we discussed the cost of a new Jag. He said, "So if I take all of Daddy's money for a year, I could buy a Jaguar? But, if I had that much money, I think I would just buy us all motor scooters, then we could all have fun." Nice kid, thinking of us.
...They then have access to pull the security videos of the parking lot the time I was there yesterday.
ETA: I went to the cops filed a report, and back to the store to file a complaint with store security. The "asset protection" folks called me at home to discuss details, but apparently - they watched the right girl - but the wrong car. They told my husband that I left - and came back into the parking lot six minutes later? WTF? Why? They've got the wrong girl. Nor, did they "see anything" happen to my car. So, whatever.
The boy had his weigh-in for football last night. Does anybody know how the weight factors in where they put the boy? He's a big kid - not really fat per se, but he packs a wallop. He's definitely not an eight year old size, he's more of a twelve year old size (90 lbs) I don't think they'll place him with eight year olds? How does that go?
Coffee. Lots. Using the rest of an open Muscle Milk as creamer.
Breakfast - 1 slice flax bread, 1 serving chicken, 1 spread mayo
Lunch - 1 tortilla with cheddar cheese, melted
Snack- 1 ISS Protein Wafer
Dinner - All but one bite McD's cheeseburger
Snack- 2 ISS Protein Wafers
(This was written in June 2007, pre grand mal seizures.)
When you are a Bear of Very Little Brain, and you Think of Things,
you sometimes find that a Thing which seemed very Thingish inside you is
quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking
- AA Milne, Pooh.
The results are in. I saw the Neuropsych today to discuss me. I'm reading the evaluation now.
Apparently, I'm wicked smaaaaht. (That's smart to you non-Massholes.) Though, my brain has a leak, and information is seeping out the back door. I am now, most literally, Melting Mama. My brain, is melting. Why? We do not know. This is why I went to the doctor in the first place, because I Felt Something Was Wrong! I will paraphrase my test results for the blog, because, it's a whole lotta gibberish.
First of all: My IQ is in the " very superior" range. LOL.
|140 and over||Genius or near genius|
|120-140||Very superior intelligence|
|90-110||Normal or average intelligence|
|Below 70||Definite feeble-mindedness|
But, from the evaluation -
"Ms. Melting Mama's sharp decline in functioning from superior verbal comprehension and high average to superior visual-spatial reasoning to significantly below average and deficient range verbal memory and visual-spatial memory are likely related to her significant mood disorder and anxiety disorder.
However, her report of decreased memory functioning since gastric bypass surgery and the demonstration of some significantly deficient functioning on this evaluation indicated that brain neuro-imaging is needed. Her other health issues and deficiencies are also diminishing her memory functioning."
My long term memory is fannnntastic, but...
What were we talking about?! Oh, yeah.
Diagnosis, Diagnoses, Diagnosisises? Four of 'em:
- 296.7 Bipolar I Disorder (What?)
- 300.02 Generalized Anxiety Disorder
- 300.3 OCD
- 294.9 Cognitive Disorder, NOS: Memory Functioning Deficiency
"Pooh," said Rabbit kindly, "you haven't any brain."
"I know," said Pooh humbly."
"Non-Hispanic white children have the highest rates of diabetes in the United States, U.S. researchers said on Tuesday, and the disease appears to be more common than expected. They said type 1 diabetes is the most common form of diabetes in children and teens, but they also noted increases in cases of type 2 diabetes, the kind linked with obesity and lack of exercise."
Read the entire article here: Reuters
...STRAWBERRY Margarita. But, before you get 'cited, he ain't gonna drink no liquor. He + alcohol = never. So, he wants a BIG ICY VIRGIN Margarita. He (of course) wants a regular kind made with lots of real white sugar. I say "no, let's make it with Splenda, or something else, no sugar!"
Why ruin a good thing with sugar, especially with fruit, that will probably make him end up writhing in nausea for an hour? No. Not gonna do it. So, I'm on a quest, to find and make a drink for him that he won't go "ick" to. This man would prefer a Strawberry Julius as opposed to a sugar-free concoction, so this may be more difficult.
For the rest of us? Here's a couple simple drunk versions:
Servings = 2 | Serving size =1 drink each
|2 ounces||gold tequila|
|1 ounce||triple sec|
|1 ounce||fresh squeezed lime juice|
|1 cup||cracked ice|
Place the tequila, triple sec, lime juice and Splenda in a shaker with the ice.
Shake vigorously for about 1 minute and then pour into two glasses with the ice.
1/2 tsp orange extract
1 packet Splenda (or 2 tsp powdered)
1 tsp water
1 shot tequila
1/8 tsp lime juice
1/4 tsp lemon juice
Mix together the orange extract, Splenda and water. This pretty much is
the curacao - orange extract is up to 85% alcohol. Put crushed ice into
a shaker and pour this liquid over the ice. Now add in 1 shot tequila,
plus the lemon and lime juice. Shake thoroughly and pour into a glass.
My pocketbook. All over the table.
I reached in to find my keys to the truck, and my handed landed in something sticky. There was a small bottle of nail polish in my bag, and it started to open. Oh poop.
So, out came all the contents of the bag. I keep it relatively empty, anyways, since I don't so much go far - but I figured it was time for a "What the **** is in your bag, anyway?" post.
This isn't my bag, but I like it! I have another version of these Kathy Van Zeeland bags, that I got for $12.00. (How's that for a deal, eh?)
Now, this is typically done with a camera - but Since Mine Is At The Camera Hospital - here's the contents, and you'll just have to trust that I'm not forgetting to Share The Hand Gun, Pepper Spray and Metal Baseball Bat:
- Wallet, containing $123.00 bills and about $5.00 loose change, it's freaking heavy. I normally do not have that much money on me - frankly I don't know why I do - I must have forgotten something. I normally have about $20.00, or the equivalent of grocery shopping or gas money only.
- Set of keys, more key-rings than actual keys, which there are two and a house alarm remote.
- 2 containers of Glucose Tablets, which I've been carrying since my blood sugar seems to drop out when I'm noteatingeverytwo****ingminutes.
- 5 different lip-glosses. Yes, 5. But, I may toss them all back in the make-up bin, because I just rec'd a Fresh New Tube of philosophy empower mint lip gloss, which is BY FAR MY FAVORITE because it smells good, tastes good, and looks awesome because it's shiny and clear. :*
- 4 tampons, super-duperity absorbency, for catching the random red tide I'm surfing.
- 2 purse-packs of Kleenex, because I also have some fantastic allergies!
- 1 pack of Orbit Sweet Mint Gum, because it's the BEST. I always have gum or mints, just ask.
- 1 empty case of Altoids Dark Chocolate Cinnamon. There's a reason it's empty. :P
- 6 Wet-Naps, which suck ass, but I found 'em for like .69 cents at the Christmas Tree Shop and figured they'd be good to have in my purse. By the time we unwrap them, wipe our hands and throw the stupid wrapper away, it's a waste. Baby wipes kick ass much more.
- 1 small spray bottle of smelly Calgon body spray, Tropicalsomething.
- 1 pressed powder/mirror.
- 1 Johnson + Johnson's Baby Dry Skin Cream in a little tube that looks like a deodorant. Works well for my overwashed hands.
- 1 nail file.
- 1 baby nail clipper, never used, I don't know why I carry it.
- 1 FruitaBu Fruit-Roll. Yummy fruit snack carried for kids or for me during same OMG I need sugar, stat moment.
- 1 small emergency bottle of Poland Springs for Tristan's bottle if I somehow get detached from her diaper bag.
That's all today. (Besides the big mothereffing Gun I Told You About. Don't bother me at Wal Mart.) When I leave the house, I generally add a "meal" - a protein bar/jerky and a drink.
What's in yo' bag? Tell us.
"I am not even three weeks out and I have tried bites of beef, salmon, shaved turkey, crab legs--which made me throw up all night--and pork. I was trying to see what my body could tolerate after the surgery. Now keep in mind that I am educated and consider myself quite intelligent....although these actions do not demonstrate that. Eventually I got scared and called the nurse and confessed. She said I was non-compliant at this point and that it was quite possible that I had stretched my pouch. Quite naturally I began to cry...I felt like the biggest loser on the planet earth. I swore I was going to be the model patient and that WLS was going to work for me. I was down in the dumps...and had secret fears that this too would be a failure for me and that if this didn't work I would just kill myself. But then I realized that all i had to do was begin to weigh and measure my food, stick to the protocol and become compliant, which I have done. Someone told me "just because you can eat it doesn't mean you should eat it!" and that is sooooooooo true. I now feel quite optimistic, I have lost 21 pounds since june 8th and I am praying for the ability to remain compliant on a daily basis. My addiction with food is not over....I see that. I will have to work just as hard as I did when I lost massive amounts of weight in the past...that is surely evident. I hadn't even posted here because I felt ashamed of my behavior. But experience in 12 step food programs have taught me that I need to face my secrets, admit them, and correct my actions. That is the purpose of this post."
Um, okay. At three weeks, breaking "the rules" all over the place.
Hell, I Am A Rule-Breaker, and I didn't start until many months to one year post-operatively. She'll be with me, back at 300-sumpin' pounds, and we can eat ice cream together. Wait, going back and reading this again, she's semi-suicidal, no? Sorry, 'bout that.
You know you want some TMI. Some hot, fresh, TMI? This Seasonique pill can kiss my ass. I have had it with the three week continuous cycle that isn't on any schedule. This is what I was dealing with BEFORE the pill. This is part of the reason I got so anemic! So, yeah. I will finish the RX, but, no more. I cannot have this. I'd rather scrape my uterus out with a coat hanger.
The meeting went really well. He's talking very positive about it. Very. There is the possibility of one more, with more Important People, but it could also not be necessary. I'm glad to hear him so positive, let's hope it translates into an o f f e r. He thinks so - but... one never knows.
"Nothing is so often irretrievably missed as a daily opportunity."
~Marie von Ebner-Eschenbach
With that in mind. It is a new day. This whole summer-thing is harder than anticipated.
"How do you make it work being a stay at home mom with four kids? Is money tight? How do you do it? I've often wondered how people do it. My husband and I both work, have a mortgage, car payments and a son in preschool. We make pretty good money and it's always tight. We can't even have more kids because we cant afford for me to stay home or shell out more daycare. Eeeek.... Enquiring minds want to know how you do it. :)"
Yikes. The first response I got to my last post, I couldn't write about, it was too tough a topic, and this, is nearly as hard.
To be perfectly honest, we don't do it. I should not be a SAHM.
I should be working. But, (and there is always a big but, right?) poop happens.
Let's rewind. I finally landed myself a "normal" job back in 2005, when I got all the kids into full-time school or full-time preschool. Before that, I had pretty much been an at-home parent with a few forays into working, but I have always ended up back at home because day-care is next to impossible for three (now four) children.
I was fired from that job in 2006, and got pregnant (completely accidentally, though she is awfully cute) immediately. I got another job with my husband's company (because they felt bad for me) and I got sick with the pregnancy and had to go out on short term leave.
...wake up, sans headache, and eat leftovers for breakfast!
While the headache did fade last night, I could be asking for another by eating fried rice for breakfast. Stupid ass. Since I'm bitching, I might as well mention that the lower back pain is back. I felt the twinge a couple of days ago, and it's nearly to half the pain level again. Ugh. By the time I got it checked last time, it was dubbed "arthritis." (So, it's just going to hurt, get used to it.)
The Neuro-psych called this morning, and I have my "results" appointment on Wednesday. So, there are "results." Uh-oh. :x
I also called to make an initial appointment up at the Joslin Diabetes Center at Beth Israel Hospital in Boston. Of course when I finally got a human on the line, he tells me
"Ma'am, your phone line has a terrible connection"
...and it dropped out. THANK YOU COMCAST IP PHONE! Love it! (THIS HAPPENS ALL THE TIME.)
So, I will call back, but there isn't any way to see if the connection is okay or not.
Okay, I'm picking up the phone again.... here we go....
Nevermind. I can't be seen there unless "I've been diagnosed with the Diah-beaduhs." I guess that isn't going to work.
So, I check my PCP's office - they do not HAVE an endo.
There's a video over at YouTube from someone working with Obesity Help, and they've got these post WLS women, proudly touting, "We're never hungry!" Uh-huh. Yeah. Alright. Carnie Wilson said it - she's "Still Hungry." And, so am I.
In the first few post-op months, there was no hunger. Months! No hunger! Forcing myself to take in limited calories! What fun! Those days of counting the drip of half and half in my iced coffees as protein and calories?! Long Since ****ing Gone, ladies. LONG GONE.
While I can't remember the exact timing of the Return Of The Appetite - it started drizzling in at about six months, and was quite strong by one year. By eighteen months, I was probably pregnant, and starrrrrrrrrrrrrving All The Freaking Time, Two years, again, always hungry, and at Three Years, I Think About Food like a teenage boy thinks about nookie.
Today - we were at a work function for my husband. The Food? Insane, as these things always are. My day crashed and burned into a pile of lo mein noodles. While it wasn't a lot of anything, I'm sure calorically, the items chosen add up much higher than the quantity seems. Two bites of orange chicken might not seem like much, but once considered that it's a deep-fried wad of oily dark chicken thigh meat, dripping in sugar-glaze, yeah, it ain't healthy eatin'.
Just being in a "situation" like that is enough to make anyone eat crap they would normally say "no" to. Bob was definitely a little bit twitchy when his upper management members came and he was again reminded about the job he didn't get. He drowned his sorrow in a brownie, and probably dumped, but made it look like he was just a little tired.
I'm paying for the eating of such food. I have A HEADACHE. I never really get headaches. Eating made my head hurt today. While I didn't dump or have ANY blood sugar issues today, I now have a killer after-food headache. I've taken some Tylenol, and I'm headed for bed, because - tomorrow, is in fact, another day to start again. :sigh:
I made the kids "bless" a lucky fortune cookie for their Dad. It read: "You enjoy the nightlife." Yeah. That, uh, fits. (That man doesn't even know what nightlife is - his nightlife is sleeping, LMFAO.) I told them we could try again with a new cookie. It's in his shorts in the washing machine, I told him to keep it for good luck on Tuesday (third interview) and although I've now ruined it - it DID read something about opportunity knocking.
I hope if opportunity knocks, someone's home to answer the door.