I'm not sure how to take this...
If you followed previous posts, you know that my story for this year basically goes like this...
I got serious about the surgery after insurance decided to okay the surgery late last year. In January, I started losing weight in order to get the weight loss surgery (yeah..ironic...you have to lose weight to have weight loss surgery).
In April I had the surgery.
It's now the end of May.
I've lost approximately 120 pounds so far, about 40 of which (rounding; I posted a day or two ago more solid numbers but these are off the top of my head) have been since my surgery. That leaves 80 pounds pre-surgery.
For the past two days I've had a number of people suddenly comment on my weight loss. "How much have you lost?" "You've changed so much!" I had one person asking someone just how much was liposuctioned out of me (in case you're wondering, my understanding is that you'd probably die if they tried liposuctioning even 40 pounds out of you, but I haven't asked my doctor about it).
It's nice that people notice...for a long time I began to wonder if I looked any different. Living with this means that you kind of get used to just not fitting into seats and not being the first pick to the prom. But I had to wonder...where were these people during the first 80 pounds? I had one person ask me about my weight loss before the surgery. One. Eighty pounds.
Is there a social rule where you just don't comment on people's weight? I mean it's fairly obvious people talk about the fatty waddling down the hall to people other than the person they consider a fatty. It's a classic stereotype. A societal joke. It's socially acceptable to poke fun at the expense of the obese.
But while I was trying to lose weight before getting 80 staples in my front, where were the comments about people noticing anything then?
I don't know how to react. Right now I just say thank you, but really...how do I reply to it? Part of me thinks that they may not know the backstory...part thinks that they've heard the rumors of surgery. Are they playing dumb? Or do they really not know? Do they just think it's a socially acceptable thing to ask about on this particular day? All of these thoughts are racing through my head when they say something and I haven't a clue what to reply with that won't sound suspicious, trite, or unappreciative.
Then there's another thought that creeps into my head and makes me just...agitated. There are several warnings out there about people losing weight and taking delight in how people react more positively to them. Biases against the obese are put aside; you're one of "them" now, the normals. They don't necessarily stare at you as you walk down the sidewalk. They don't question how Tubbo can carry the heaped-up plate at the buffet anymore because they don't know you're Tubbo from several months ago. They don't assume you're lazy or slow-witted because you're not wearing the 6x t-shirts anymore. This ticks me off.
So are people being nice because I'm not Tubbo anymore? How exactly has their perception of me changed despite, to my knowledge, I'm still...me? I'm the same me that wanted to fit in with you before. The same me that wanted to go to the prom but didn't have a date, the same me that wanted to be the one to catch the eye of some cute girl walking along instead of the other way around.
These subtle rejections in life have helped shape the person I later became. I saw people's inner nature and behavior in ways that normals never did because they didn't experience these things; if you weren't the hot cheerleader, could you ever truly understand what it's like to have most people wrapped around your pinky, getting favors without even trying or conciously putting forward effort to get them? Don't tell me it's not the case; there are studies showing how people who are attractive "tend" to be more successful in life. Even Wikipedia has an article dealing with the subject!
Since I have a terrible time understanding other people's motives and behaviors I also have a terrible time knowing what response people are looking for when they suddenly tell me how great I look now compared to...I don't even know when they last noticed me.
This is something else to deal with, I suppose. I perpetually ask myself what's wrong with me that no one noticed until one hundred twenty pounds later that I'm losing weight. I question their sincerity. I don't know how to reply. And I'm angry, for lack of a better word, at the subtle shift in attitudes that go along with how a person is perceived as they lose weight despite the fact that I'm fully aware I have my own judgements passed on people for a wide variety of behaviors and appearances. I'm aware of it and try to be empathetic with that self-awareness as a reference from which to relate to them, but I can't deny I still feel stirrings of irritation at them for my having to be on the receiving end of the stick.
Maybe these are thoughts other patients don't normally dwell on. If you have experienced this and have some information or advice, feel free to comment...
Friday, May 22, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Copay Confusion (Or: I Hate Insurance Bureaucracy)
I got a call from my wife. "I picked up the mail and there was a check from the hospital for two thousand dollars."
Um...okay.
Ordinarily I wouldn't question it. I'd cash it and we'd have a fun weekend away, especially with a three-day weekend coming up for us.
But seeing as this came from the hospital that a little over a month ago had cut me open and knowing that my copay for the operation was two grand, I thought this was a little too good to be true.
I called the hospital. "The insurance company paid your bill from us in full, so we mailed you the difference."
"They paid in full?"
"Yes. All paid."
Oooh...what was that feeling? Hope? I didn't eat yet...so it can't be an overeating pain, or a pain from something too dry trying to fit through the food hole of the stomach...must be hope. Much needed money!!
But still I've been alive long enough to know that these things don't happen to my family.
I called the insurance company and explained what happened. The nice service rep checked my benefits and information on the procedure, and came back and confirmed that yes, they paid the facility bill in full.
"In full?"
"Yes. But we're processing the provider's bill. It can take up to two weeks..."
"You paid the facility bill, but not the provider bill?"
"Not yet. We're processing the claim. So your copay may go to the provider, the surgeon. You should hold on to the check for two weeks until you get the explanation of benefits..."
Ow, ow...ow...oh, that feeling just drained away. Now I don't know if it was hope or gas.
This is a wonderful example of user-friendliness. To me, the end user, I owe money to some monolithic entity, the hospital. We give them money, they disperse it as necessary...I assume they employ the doctors and whatnot.
Apparently this implies that doctors are like consultants working for the hospital and as such there's two or three times more paperwork that snakes through insurance companies and the hospital, making it much harder to keep track of anything. This also means that two or three months later I'm still getting papers trickling in saying what is owed and what's paid and not paid.
I had paid my copay ahead of time so avoid hassles. Instead I've created another hassle for myself. @#$%#
Ideally the insurance would pay what's needed and the process would be streamlined to the point where I wouldn't need to track all these various places money is owed and who got what. I'd have a form or website for "medical" that would state where to send money, authorize the transfer on a certain date, and fwoom, done. I could get an instant update on where the money is and the status of bills, and maybe even have a link that I could click to send queries to service reps about questions.
It would be a wonderful idea but because of the bureaucracy involved in trying to get insurance companies and hospitals and doctors to work together it would be a monumental undertaking. I'd have better luck finding a way to get a live webcam broadcasting from the moon.
Anyway I'm now going to cash the check, set the money aside again, and wait until the bill comes so I know who to pay and my dreams of having a brief, relaxing vacation has been dashed as quickly as the hope rose in my chest. Or the gas. I'm still not sure which it was.
Um...okay.
Ordinarily I wouldn't question it. I'd cash it and we'd have a fun weekend away, especially with a three-day weekend coming up for us.
But seeing as this came from the hospital that a little over a month ago had cut me open and knowing that my copay for the operation was two grand, I thought this was a little too good to be true.
I called the hospital. "The insurance company paid your bill from us in full, so we mailed you the difference."
"They paid in full?"
"Yes. All paid."
Oooh...what was that feeling? Hope? I didn't eat yet...so it can't be an overeating pain, or a pain from something too dry trying to fit through the food hole of the stomach...must be hope. Much needed money!!
But still I've been alive long enough to know that these things don't happen to my family.
I called the insurance company and explained what happened. The nice service rep checked my benefits and information on the procedure, and came back and confirmed that yes, they paid the facility bill in full.
"In full?"
"Yes. But we're processing the provider's bill. It can take up to two weeks..."
"You paid the facility bill, but not the provider bill?"
"Not yet. We're processing the claim. So your copay may go to the provider, the surgeon. You should hold on to the check for two weeks until you get the explanation of benefits..."
Ow, ow...ow...oh, that feeling just drained away. Now I don't know if it was hope or gas.
This is a wonderful example of user-friendliness. To me, the end user, I owe money to some monolithic entity, the hospital. We give them money, they disperse it as necessary...I assume they employ the doctors and whatnot.
Apparently this implies that doctors are like consultants working for the hospital and as such there's two or three times more paperwork that snakes through insurance companies and the hospital, making it much harder to keep track of anything. This also means that two or three months later I'm still getting papers trickling in saying what is owed and what's paid and not paid.
I had paid my copay ahead of time so avoid hassles. Instead I've created another hassle for myself. @#$%#
Ideally the insurance would pay what's needed and the process would be streamlined to the point where I wouldn't need to track all these various places money is owed and who got what. I'd have a form or website for "medical" that would state where to send money, authorize the transfer on a certain date, and fwoom, done. I could get an instant update on where the money is and the status of bills, and maybe even have a link that I could click to send queries to service reps about questions.
It would be a wonderful idea but because of the bureaucracy involved in trying to get insurance companies and hospitals and doctors to work together it would be a monumental undertaking. I'd have better luck finding a way to get a live webcam broadcasting from the moon.
Anyway I'm now going to cash the check, set the money aside again, and wait until the bill comes so I know who to pay and my dreams of having a brief, relaxing vacation has been dashed as quickly as the hope rose in my chest. Or the gas. I'm still not sure which it was.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Panera Smokehouse Turkey Sandwich
My family had to get some last-minute items for my son's upcoming birthday party. While we were out we stopped at my wife's favorite dinner/lunch spot, Panera Bread.
Knowing that I can't eat too much anyway, I told her to get a Pick-Two soup and sandwich and just surprise me, since she usually remembers what I like better than I remember.
I was sitting with my son at a table outside and enjoying the warm early evening weather, listening to large gulls squawk and beg from other customers, when she came out with a small bowl of French Onion soup and a 1/2 Smokehouse Turkey sandwich.
Okay, here's the warning part...I picked off most of the crust, as that was kind of hard from the toasting, and I picked out a piece of bacon after I had pulled a couple pieces of gristle out from a slice I bit into. I focused on getting most of the meat eaten; the bread was relatively soft in the center and the cheese, a decent protein source, was pretty good.
But then it happened again...pain. Not as bad as the episode I had previously, but it was enough that I felt it. The pain probably wavered for about ten minutes and disappeared.
Was it something added to the bread or cheese, like an oil or butter of some kind? Was it just that the bread was overtoasted, too hard for my stomach to like? I don't know...what I do know is that next time, we're ordering it un-toasted.
I asked my wife about how much she thought I ate and she estimated it was around four ounces, which was close to what I thought it was as well after I had picked out bits of the bread and some of the meat. So I didn't consume over my limit...it was definitely something with the sandwich.
That's your word of warning for the day. It's not necessarily the quantity of something that'll cause pain. Sometimes it's the nature of the food!
Knowing that I can't eat too much anyway, I told her to get a Pick-Two soup and sandwich and just surprise me, since she usually remembers what I like better than I remember.
I was sitting with my son at a table outside and enjoying the warm early evening weather, listening to large gulls squawk and beg from other customers, when she came out with a small bowl of French Onion soup and a 1/2 Smokehouse Turkey sandwich.
Okay, here's the warning part...I picked off most of the crust, as that was kind of hard from the toasting, and I picked out a piece of bacon after I had pulled a couple pieces of gristle out from a slice I bit into. I focused on getting most of the meat eaten; the bread was relatively soft in the center and the cheese, a decent protein source, was pretty good.
But then it happened again...pain. Not as bad as the episode I had previously, but it was enough that I felt it. The pain probably wavered for about ten minutes and disappeared.
Was it something added to the bread or cheese, like an oil or butter of some kind? Was it just that the bread was overtoasted, too hard for my stomach to like? I don't know...what I do know is that next time, we're ordering it un-toasted.
I asked my wife about how much she thought I ate and she estimated it was around four ounces, which was close to what I thought it was as well after I had picked out bits of the bread and some of the meat. So I didn't consume over my limit...it was definitely something with the sandwich.
That's your word of warning for the day. It's not necessarily the quantity of something that'll cause pain. Sometimes it's the nature of the food!
My Asperger's Self
I have referred to myself as having Asperger traits. There are plenty of sites that describe the syndrome; there's really no need to rehash it (I even linked to the Wiki article for a nice jumpoff point of you're interested). I don't think I ever actually discussed why I think I have it, though.
Asperger's isn't something that you can test for in a blood test. It isn't something you can diagnose from a CAT scan or a DNA test. There's no physical symptoms to it; you see me walking down the street and you'll probably not suspect that's what's wrong with me. It's a spectrum disorder and much like being paranoid, you get evaluated by professionals and they will figure out if you have enough of the characteristics to declare that you have the disorder in question. At least, for now...as more research is being done maybe someday it will be as easy as a DNA or MRI scan to diagnose the disorder.
As part of the bariatric surgery requirements for my insurance company I had to start seeing a psychologist or psychiatrist. I discussed with him my concerns about having these traits, and he in my last session said that I have many of the traits and may very well have this disorder, perhaps a very subtle or mild form of it.
What I've noticed, plucked from a list from wikipedia that was linked above...
Aspergers and related spectrum disorders tend to appear in early childhood. I have always had these issues stretching back as far as I can remember.
Social impairments...I tend to overlook social cues. Understanding people is very difficult for me. I try to hide it at times by playing it off as the usual jokes such as how no guy can possibly understand women; underneath I have problems understanding people's motivations and behavior beyond the analytical evaluations. The more irrational you act, the more agitated I get.
I think I tend to avoid eye contact with people unless I'm analyzing you. Sounds creepy writing it so plainly like this; but often, if I'm looking you in the eye it's because I'm trying to figure out what you're talking about, I'm analyzing you, or I'm desperately trying to beam my thoughts directly into your brain. Otherwise, you bother me and I'm probably looking at something more visually interesting in the room.
I tend to be very pedantic in my speech. I irritate my wife with this...she thinks she's speaking clearly, I have no clue what the hell she's talking about because her word choice is quite vague or open to interpretation.
I use to flap my hands. I don't know how to describe it other than being a soothing feeling. My wife was irritated at it and insisted I stop so eventually I did.
I have to check some things repeatedly in order to imprint it on my memory that it's done, such as checking that the fridge is closed. This may have been exacerbated by having a teenager and a toddler in the house and I don't trust them to actually close it up when they're done, but I still check it two or three times when leaving the house. I also check doors and the stove. As a kid I would have a nightly check of my home making sure doors and windows were all closed.
I don't adapt well to change; my wife tends to wait to the last minute to make plans or flies by the seat of her pants. It agitates and frustrates me. I hate not knowing what's going on, and more often than not it ends up being a point of contention for us.
I need order. Another item that adds friction to the marriage...I prefer having certain things in order, or a place for everything and everything in it's place. My wife prefers putting something down and coming back to it much later...I can't see how or why her things are ordered the way she does it, and it causes anxiety for me, especially in spaces that in my mind are "shared space". This is simply the way my mind is wired. I try to work around it by creating pockets of order that are more or less just my things, my way of ordering things.
I tend to follow a set of ritual behavior. My day is usually pretty much mapped out. If something is very different it can cause me quite a bit of agitation to work around mentally.
I tend to have a limited focus on my interests. I like technical things, I can tell you obscure information about warp drives and computer viruses. My best friends are technology.
People wear me out. Interacting with people drains my energy, I recharge my mental batteries by being alone or with close friends only. This, of course, makes me rather...techy. I get short tempered with people that agitate me for small reasons when coupled with the stress that comes from having to interact with...tolerate...other people.
I have trouble with certain sounds and movements. For example: I cannot stand the sound of snoring. I become visibly agitated if I hear it even in a movie for more than three seconds. I also can't stand it when I see people "twisting" their feet; my wife does this all the time and I always ask her to stop. I cannot ignore it. It draws my eye immediately and becomes an immediate focus and almost physically hurts me to see, and I start wanting to just...reach out and break the foot if I could. I've never acted out on such impulses but it sometimes scares me to think of what would happen if I ever suffer some kind of brain injury or dementia where impulse control is muted; will I ever act on that impulse? Even thinking about seeing a food twisting around and back and forth makes me squirm in my seat. Sometimes I think my wife continues to do this on purpose to punish me or irritate me when she's mad for something I did that unknowingly wronged her...crazy thoughts? Maybe. But I still have them.
I also can't stand it when people chew with their mouths open. Gum chewers especially. Makes me want to ship them to Singapore for caning. I know someone whose jaw clicks when he eats and he likes to pop the cartilage in his chest, both of which drives me BATTY. I can't stand to be near him while eating.
I can't even stand to hear myself chew. I need white noise or distractions around me all the time to try to alleviate my focusing on such things...fans, the TV...something.
I'm probably forgetting some issues. Maybe I'll edit the post later, maybe I'll just ignore them if I think of them later, I don't know. These are the ones that stand out in my mind at the moment. I do know that for many people seeing this they'll think that this is not really a problem, or they don't understand why I don't just ignore XYZ. Foot twisting? Really? Yes, really. I'm wired in such a way that I cannot ignore it. I've tried. Believe me, after so many sleepless nights hearing my father snore as I grew up I tried whatever I could to ignore such things or cope. It just doesn't work. Just as some people are wired to be energized by social interaction, I'm wired to have the quirks I've listed above.
This is one of those things that unless you experience it, I don't know if you can understand it. At least not fully. Today I just try to cope and maybe reserve a sliver of hope that the psychologist can help me find a way to manage my "quirks" better...
Asperger's isn't something that you can test for in a blood test. It isn't something you can diagnose from a CAT scan or a DNA test. There's no physical symptoms to it; you see me walking down the street and you'll probably not suspect that's what's wrong with me. It's a spectrum disorder and much like being paranoid, you get evaluated by professionals and they will figure out if you have enough of the characteristics to declare that you have the disorder in question. At least, for now...as more research is being done maybe someday it will be as easy as a DNA or MRI scan to diagnose the disorder.
As part of the bariatric surgery requirements for my insurance company I had to start seeing a psychologist or psychiatrist. I discussed with him my concerns about having these traits, and he in my last session said that I have many of the traits and may very well have this disorder, perhaps a very subtle or mild form of it.
What I've noticed, plucked from a list from wikipedia that was linked above...
Aspergers and related spectrum disorders tend to appear in early childhood. I have always had these issues stretching back as far as I can remember.
Social impairments...I tend to overlook social cues. Understanding people is very difficult for me. I try to hide it at times by playing it off as the usual jokes such as how no guy can possibly understand women; underneath I have problems understanding people's motivations and behavior beyond the analytical evaluations. The more irrational you act, the more agitated I get.
I think I tend to avoid eye contact with people unless I'm analyzing you. Sounds creepy writing it so plainly like this; but often, if I'm looking you in the eye it's because I'm trying to figure out what you're talking about, I'm analyzing you, or I'm desperately trying to beam my thoughts directly into your brain. Otherwise, you bother me and I'm probably looking at something more visually interesting in the room.
I tend to be very pedantic in my speech. I irritate my wife with this...she thinks she's speaking clearly, I have no clue what the hell she's talking about because her word choice is quite vague or open to interpretation.
I use to flap my hands. I don't know how to describe it other than being a soothing feeling. My wife was irritated at it and insisted I stop so eventually I did.
I have to check some things repeatedly in order to imprint it on my memory that it's done, such as checking that the fridge is closed. This may have been exacerbated by having a teenager and a toddler in the house and I don't trust them to actually close it up when they're done, but I still check it two or three times when leaving the house. I also check doors and the stove. As a kid I would have a nightly check of my home making sure doors and windows were all closed.
I don't adapt well to change; my wife tends to wait to the last minute to make plans or flies by the seat of her pants. It agitates and frustrates me. I hate not knowing what's going on, and more often than not it ends up being a point of contention for us.
I need order. Another item that adds friction to the marriage...I prefer having certain things in order, or a place for everything and everything in it's place. My wife prefers putting something down and coming back to it much later...I can't see how or why her things are ordered the way she does it, and it causes anxiety for me, especially in spaces that in my mind are "shared space". This is simply the way my mind is wired. I try to work around it by creating pockets of order that are more or less just my things, my way of ordering things.
I tend to follow a set of ritual behavior. My day is usually pretty much mapped out. If something is very different it can cause me quite a bit of agitation to work around mentally.
I tend to have a limited focus on my interests. I like technical things, I can tell you obscure information about warp drives and computer viruses. My best friends are technology.
People wear me out. Interacting with people drains my energy, I recharge my mental batteries by being alone or with close friends only. This, of course, makes me rather...techy. I get short tempered with people that agitate me for small reasons when coupled with the stress that comes from having to interact with...tolerate...other people.
I have trouble with certain sounds and movements. For example: I cannot stand the sound of snoring. I become visibly agitated if I hear it even in a movie for more than three seconds. I also can't stand it when I see people "twisting" their feet; my wife does this all the time and I always ask her to stop. I cannot ignore it. It draws my eye immediately and becomes an immediate focus and almost physically hurts me to see, and I start wanting to just...reach out and break the foot if I could. I've never acted out on such impulses but it sometimes scares me to think of what would happen if I ever suffer some kind of brain injury or dementia where impulse control is muted; will I ever act on that impulse? Even thinking about seeing a food twisting around and back and forth makes me squirm in my seat. Sometimes I think my wife continues to do this on purpose to punish me or irritate me when she's mad for something I did that unknowingly wronged her...crazy thoughts? Maybe. But I still have them.
I also can't stand it when people chew with their mouths open. Gum chewers especially. Makes me want to ship them to Singapore for caning. I know someone whose jaw clicks when he eats and he likes to pop the cartilage in his chest, both of which drives me BATTY. I can't stand to be near him while eating.
I can't even stand to hear myself chew. I need white noise or distractions around me all the time to try to alleviate my focusing on such things...fans, the TV...something.
I'm probably forgetting some issues. Maybe I'll edit the post later, maybe I'll just ignore them if I think of them later, I don't know. These are the ones that stand out in my mind at the moment. I do know that for many people seeing this they'll think that this is not really a problem, or they don't understand why I don't just ignore XYZ. Foot twisting? Really? Yes, really. I'm wired in such a way that I cannot ignore it. I've tried. Believe me, after so many sleepless nights hearing my father snore as I grew up I tried whatever I could to ignore such things or cope. It just doesn't work. Just as some people are wired to be energized by social interaction, I'm wired to have the quirks I've listed above.
This is one of those things that unless you experience it, I don't know if you can understand it. At least not fully. Today I just try to cope and maybe reserve a sliver of hope that the psychologist can help me find a way to manage my "quirks" better...
Weight Loss Progress-May 20th, 2009
It occurs to me that I haven't said anything about my weight loss very recently. I think the last time I mentioned it I was stuck looking out over the valley from a very frustrating plateau and my doctor had basically kind of told me not to worry about it, just keep plodding forward. I don't remember when that was, off the top of my head...so I thought I'd post some info on where I stand right now.
Some dates and stats...
Today is 5/20/09. My weight this morning was 337.5 pounds.
I started dieting on approximately 1/5/09. Since then I've lost 120.5 pounds.
My surgery was 4/7/09. Since then I'm down 38.5 pounds.
My surgeon said that I should expect to lose, or aim to lose, 20 to 25 pounds a month on average but that's a sliding scale (it isn't linear...if you have suffered through semi-advanced math courses, you probably know this means that the weight loss is a curve, not a line).
So...think I'm on track. No guarantees, but I think so...
Some dates and stats...
Today is 5/20/09. My weight this morning was 337.5 pounds.
I started dieting on approximately 1/5/09. Since then I've lost 120.5 pounds.
My surgery was 4/7/09. Since then I'm down 38.5 pounds.
My surgeon said that I should expect to lose, or aim to lose, 20 to 25 pounds a month on average but that's a sliding scale (it isn't linear...if you have suffered through semi-advanced math courses, you probably know this means that the weight loss is a curve, not a line).
So...think I'm on track. No guarantees, but I think so...
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Bariatric Pain in the Gut: Good News!
I finally had something go wrong!
Well, not really wrong, per se. But it was unpleasant and wonderful!
Okay, here's the story...my wife had fixed some chicken breast fillets for dinner a few nights ago on the grill. They were small, probably four or five ounces a pop; I took one and cut it in half and the two pieces easily fit into a one-cup storage container with space to spare.
I reheated it in the microwave and began to partake in the protein goodness. I noticed that the edges were a little tough, dried out; I thought I chewed it adequately. I didn't.
I felt full before going through 3/4 of the breast fillet, so of course I stopped. The problem was that right about then the apparently too-tough-to-eat-easily part of the chicken hit my stomach.
The pain wasn't excruciating, but it was very uncomfortable. Every time the pain subsided and I thought it had finally passed another wave would hit me. I picked up the trash can in case I threw up; I was unsure for a few moments if that was what it was going to come down to.
The pains lasted for somewhere between 20 and 30 minutes. When it was over, I finally knew that yes, there is some of the warned negative feedback in my "new" stomach. All the times I had wondered if the surgeon had actually done anything to my stomach size was finally answered in one glorious bout of pain pulsating through my torso.
I don't know if this did any damage to my new pouch, stretching it or pulling it (for a few moments I worried that I had ripped something out). I of course am desperately hoping not. But now at least I know that it should be working to some degree the way the operation was described to me!
I know, it's weird, taking relief in this pain episode. But now I know for sure that maybe this surgery can help me. Plus I know that if meat isn't tender and juicy, if it can't be chewed until it is mush, don't eat it.
See? Negative reinforcement is working already!
Well, not really wrong, per se. But it was unpleasant and wonderful!
Okay, here's the story...my wife had fixed some chicken breast fillets for dinner a few nights ago on the grill. They were small, probably four or five ounces a pop; I took one and cut it in half and the two pieces easily fit into a one-cup storage container with space to spare.
I reheated it in the microwave and began to partake in the protein goodness. I noticed that the edges were a little tough, dried out; I thought I chewed it adequately. I didn't.
I felt full before going through 3/4 of the breast fillet, so of course I stopped. The problem was that right about then the apparently too-tough-to-eat-easily part of the chicken hit my stomach.
The pain wasn't excruciating, but it was very uncomfortable. Every time the pain subsided and I thought it had finally passed another wave would hit me. I picked up the trash can in case I threw up; I was unsure for a few moments if that was what it was going to come down to.
The pains lasted for somewhere between 20 and 30 minutes. When it was over, I finally knew that yes, there is some of the warned negative feedback in my "new" stomach. All the times I had wondered if the surgeon had actually done anything to my stomach size was finally answered in one glorious bout of pain pulsating through my torso.
I don't know if this did any damage to my new pouch, stretching it or pulling it (for a few moments I worried that I had ripped something out). I of course am desperately hoping not. But now at least I know that it should be working to some degree the way the operation was described to me!
I know, it's weird, taking relief in this pain episode. But now I know for sure that maybe this surgery can help me. Plus I know that if meat isn't tender and juicy, if it can't be chewed until it is mush, don't eat it.
See? Negative reinforcement is working already!
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Fear Of Success
I work in technology. To be more specific I work in technology support; if the users need software installed, corrupted profiles fixed, systems moved or mice cleaned I end up having to head out to fix it. I also monitor servers, configure servers, try to keep electronic point of sales systems running and field calls from users complaining about forgetting passwords or slow login times. Overall if it's plugged into the network and someone has an issue with it I may get the call for working on it in addition to maintenance chores on equipment users usually aren't even aware exist unless one of them malfunctions.
After many years of dealing with various issues that go with the job...often repeating myself over and over...hearing the same issues crop up every month...the job wears on you. Issues of satisfaction in the workplace are a whole post or two if their own.
What I have found myself doing, however, is wondering about what it would be like to switch careers. I have two or three other interests which I've seriously considered trying to move into and so far have not taken the leap. The problem is that there are always perfectly legitimate reasons not to pursue them; I make decent money for my area (although career guides say I'm underpaid for my job and education...it is a problem with the industry), jobs are difficult to come by now, I have become used to things like a roof and heating and food, change is hard..
All of these are, from what I can tell, legitimate reasons to hesitate moving to a different career.
But in my times of introspection I have asked myself if these are the real reasons I don't try changing. They are certainly factors, but the reasons I don't?
The answer I find myself wondering if it isn't the true bug in the soup is what if I'm afraid of finding out that I'm not good at those things?
I've failed to lose (and keep off) weight. I am not a big financial or social success. I worry constantly about bills and raising my kids correctly. I don't even know if I can lose weight with the surgery without failing at that.
If I don't try to do these other career pursuits then my fears of failing are just fears, not confirmation of my ineptitude.
As time passes though I have a little more reminder of why I consider a career change. At some point I may end up with more need to escape than fear of failure. Have any readers made career shifts voluntarily and not necessarily out of necessity? Where you scared to do it and if so how did you face and overcome those fears?
After many years of dealing with various issues that go with the job...often repeating myself over and over...hearing the same issues crop up every month...the job wears on you. Issues of satisfaction in the workplace are a whole post or two if their own.
What I have found myself doing, however, is wondering about what it would be like to switch careers. I have two or three other interests which I've seriously considered trying to move into and so far have not taken the leap. The problem is that there are always perfectly legitimate reasons not to pursue them; I make decent money for my area (although career guides say I'm underpaid for my job and education...it is a problem with the industry), jobs are difficult to come by now, I have become used to things like a roof and heating and food, change is hard..
All of these are, from what I can tell, legitimate reasons to hesitate moving to a different career.
But in my times of introspection I have asked myself if these are the real reasons I don't try changing. They are certainly factors, but the reasons I don't?
The answer I find myself wondering if it isn't the true bug in the soup is what if I'm afraid of finding out that I'm not good at those things?
I've failed to lose (and keep off) weight. I am not a big financial or social success. I worry constantly about bills and raising my kids correctly. I don't even know if I can lose weight with the surgery without failing at that.
If I don't try to do these other career pursuits then my fears of failing are just fears, not confirmation of my ineptitude.
As time passes though I have a little more reminder of why I consider a career change. At some point I may end up with more need to escape than fear of failure. Have any readers made career shifts voluntarily and not necessarily out of necessity? Where you scared to do it and if so how did you face and overcome those fears?
Friday, May 15, 2009
Coping with Head Hunger
If you have had weight loss surgery you are no doubt intimately acquainted with the fact that there's more to hunger than physical hunger; you quickly realize there are all sorts of little "head hungers" lurking in your mind telling you to eat when your body doesn't physically need a meal.
One of my hungers apparently hits during work hours. During the hours when the tasks are more drudgery than fulfilling work, I find myself looking at the clock and wondering if maybe it's time to take a breakfast or lunch break.
Of course, I have others,...but seeing as I spend five of seven days of the week at work, I am hitting this little demon more often than the others.
Do you have this "distraction hunger?" What do you do to cope? Hints? Tips?...
If you know of any other bariatric patients that roam the webbertubes please feel free to steer them this way if they may have hints or advice to offer. I'd love to get comments with hints and tips on dealing with some of these issues along the way (and of course, if you're already reading this which you obviously are, feel free to comment with your own hints too!).
Head hungers are probably the number one reason the surgery fails and is, at least for me, one of the biggest stumbling blocks on the way to losing weight. Between head hunger and controlling your emotions through the various changes your body must adjust to it's amazing how difficult a little task like "losing weight" really can be. Bariatric surgery is like ripping the band-aid off a whole slew of psychiatric disorders in one fell swoop and dealing with them is...remember the scene in Ghostbusters when the jerk turned off power to the containment unit? Yeah, that's what it's kind of like.
One of my hungers apparently hits during work hours. During the hours when the tasks are more drudgery than fulfilling work, I find myself looking at the clock and wondering if maybe it's time to take a breakfast or lunch break.
Of course, I have others,...but seeing as I spend five of seven days of the week at work, I am hitting this little demon more often than the others.
Do you have this "distraction hunger?" What do you do to cope? Hints? Tips?...
If you know of any other bariatric patients that roam the webbertubes please feel free to steer them this way if they may have hints or advice to offer. I'd love to get comments with hints and tips on dealing with some of these issues along the way (and of course, if you're already reading this which you obviously are, feel free to comment with your own hints too!).
Head hungers are probably the number one reason the surgery fails and is, at least for me, one of the biggest stumbling blocks on the way to losing weight. Between head hunger and controlling your emotions through the various changes your body must adjust to it's amazing how difficult a little task like "losing weight" really can be. Bariatric surgery is like ripping the band-aid off a whole slew of psychiatric disorders in one fell swoop and dealing with them is...remember the scene in Ghostbusters when the jerk turned off power to the containment unit? Yeah, that's what it's kind of like.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Lost in Thoughts on Portions, Emotional State
I am in an unusual place right now. I had a checkup with my surgeon today, and I'm just replaying in my head that conversation along with what I had previously understood from other information, sources, meetings with nutritionists (current and previous)...
The fact is that people are different in their reaction to this kind of surgery. So there is no clear-cut answer. My obsessive personality is coming up with two stumbling blocks in this journey. I keep asking for such answers, and their are none. I need one though. I need it spelled out. I need clear- cut guidelines.
The first is, how much do I eat?
I previously thought I was to find what was tolerable, to get in touch with my stomach's feedback, to realize when I was "full". I have been experimenting a little on that front. I am starting to find an amount where I start to feel some discomfort, and quit eating. I never packed more than a cup of food into my lunch/breakfast container (and since solid foods aren't usually a liquid form, even if you "filled" the container it was less than a cup by volume).
My wife said that, no, it was less than that that I was supposed to have. Only a half cup at most.
So, have I been screwing this up the whole time?
Stretching the stomach pouch? Ruining everything I've suffered a month for?
The second...if the food amount is only a quarter to half cup, what is the use in dirtying dishes and silverware and bothering to make anything? The leftovers, the waste, the effort...in my mind, just not worth it. I was told not to skip meals but it seems to be such a waste, and I am having a lot of trouble getting over this mental stumbling block justifying the work on making food that I'll essentially be barely doing anything wish. The time and effort would be better left to doing whatever would have been interrupted getting the meal in the first place.
Overall it just makes me depressed. The situation just makes me plain frustrated. Am I supposed to be trusting the body and trying to figure out, relearn, how the body is supposed to work so I'm eating and acting in a more normal manner? Doing that seems to be incorrect...the surgeon wants me eating essentially what fits into a dixie cup. Fixing food that fits in a dixie cup is hardly worth the time it takes to fix something. So why bother?
I guess there's some block in my head that says it would simply be better if I did nothing instead of wasting the effort in making a sandwich just to refrigerate three-quarters of it, and have another quarter later for another meal, and maybe another quarter that night. And have one left over for breakfast or end up throwing it out.
Another part of me tells me that this is temporary, these thoughts. I simply have to adjust. These thoughts that I'm dwelling on are simply another stage before acceptance and adapting.
It's the other voice that bothers me. The other voice tells me things like, "You stretched the pouch." "You screwed up again." "Another attempt to lose weight and you blew it."
So which voice is right? Or is it a mix of both? The rational feeds me some self-serving forgiveness, telling me to accept and adapt and move on. The emotional side tells me that...well, I said what it tells me.
I suppose these swirling thoughts have to be simply meditated on, so to speak. Tomorrow I'll hopefully find more of a rational place from which to approach this situation.
The fact is that people are different in their reaction to this kind of surgery. So there is no clear-cut answer. My obsessive personality is coming up with two stumbling blocks in this journey. I keep asking for such answers, and their are none. I need one though. I need it spelled out. I need clear- cut guidelines.
The first is, how much do I eat?
I previously thought I was to find what was tolerable, to get in touch with my stomach's feedback, to realize when I was "full". I have been experimenting a little on that front. I am starting to find an amount where I start to feel some discomfort, and quit eating. I never packed more than a cup of food into my lunch/breakfast container (and since solid foods aren't usually a liquid form, even if you "filled" the container it was less than a cup by volume).
My wife said that, no, it was less than that that I was supposed to have. Only a half cup at most.
So, have I been screwing this up the whole time?
Stretching the stomach pouch? Ruining everything I've suffered a month for?
The second...if the food amount is only a quarter to half cup, what is the use in dirtying dishes and silverware and bothering to make anything? The leftovers, the waste, the effort...in my mind, just not worth it. I was told not to skip meals but it seems to be such a waste, and I am having a lot of trouble getting over this mental stumbling block justifying the work on making food that I'll essentially be barely doing anything wish. The time and effort would be better left to doing whatever would have been interrupted getting the meal in the first place.
Overall it just makes me depressed. The situation just makes me plain frustrated. Am I supposed to be trusting the body and trying to figure out, relearn, how the body is supposed to work so I'm eating and acting in a more normal manner? Doing that seems to be incorrect...the surgeon wants me eating essentially what fits into a dixie cup. Fixing food that fits in a dixie cup is hardly worth the time it takes to fix something. So why bother?
I guess there's some block in my head that says it would simply be better if I did nothing instead of wasting the effort in making a sandwich just to refrigerate three-quarters of it, and have another quarter later for another meal, and maybe another quarter that night. And have one left over for breakfast or end up throwing it out.
Another part of me tells me that this is temporary, these thoughts. I simply have to adjust. These thoughts that I'm dwelling on are simply another stage before acceptance and adapting.
It's the other voice that bothers me. The other voice tells me things like, "You stretched the pouch." "You screwed up again." "Another attempt to lose weight and you blew it."
So which voice is right? Or is it a mix of both? The rational feeds me some self-serving forgiveness, telling me to accept and adapt and move on. The emotional side tells me that...well, I said what it tells me.
I suppose these swirling thoughts have to be simply meditated on, so to speak. Tomorrow I'll hopefully find more of a rational place from which to approach this situation.
Milestone: Visiting the Surgeon
I just had an appointment today with the surgeon. I think this is the first I've seen him since operating on me; my wife saw him right after the surgery, but I don't recall seeing him until now. I have seen others, though, so I don't feel neglected or anything like that. When you trust someone with touching your organs and rearranging them I supposed you sort of get accustomed to the idea of letting them handle your care afterwards without too much question.
I think the appointment went fairly well. He wanted to follow up with me in a couple weeks. Bullet points:
I asked about how easy it is to stretch the stomach. He said that it wasn't too hard. To paraphrase, "If you eat until you feel full, then take a few more bites, that's okay at first. You eat until you feel discomfort, take another bite or two, then continue doing that...next day, day after...soon you'll find you can take four bites more instead of two. You're stretching the stomach. The stomach will get larger later on, that's okay. But not now. First you need to lower your weight, then level it out."
I still worry about it since I'm trying to learn what "full" feels like. I'm experimenting and figuring out portions and whatnot. I take some solace in the fact that I'm pretty sure I'm eating far less than I did before the surgery and not feeling bad about it. I just wish there were clear signs, like some flashing window on a heads up display telling me the fuel tank's full, time to stop!!
Okay. So right now my guideline is to avoid discomfort. If the discomfort feeling hits, I'm eating too much, back off.
Oh, and the weight rocking. He explained that for many patients it's not a smooth curve down. It's a series of steps. They're not sure why the body does what it does, but it seems to level out for a bit, then fall...level out, then fall....level out, then fall. So I'm on a slinky trend now. As long as I'm in the guidelines of 20 to 25 pounds a month for awhile I guess I'm doing well.
He seemed to think all was in normal ranges for my situation. Yay, me! As the other doctor has said of me...I'm just worrying too much.
I think the appointment went fairly well. He wanted to follow up with me in a couple weeks. Bullet points:
- Stop using the protein supplement in water.
- Weight loss is expected to be 20 to 25 pounds a month on average, but it's a curve that gradually levels out.
- Meals should be dixie cup sized. More you eat, less you end up losing.
- Showers only still. He's monitoring the incision healing and said showing is sufficient...I'm going to look forward to a bath and being able to get into a pool, even if I'm still covered up anyway.
I asked about how easy it is to stretch the stomach. He said that it wasn't too hard. To paraphrase, "If you eat until you feel full, then take a few more bites, that's okay at first. You eat until you feel discomfort, take another bite or two, then continue doing that...next day, day after...soon you'll find you can take four bites more instead of two. You're stretching the stomach. The stomach will get larger later on, that's okay. But not now. First you need to lower your weight, then level it out."
I still worry about it since I'm trying to learn what "full" feels like. I'm experimenting and figuring out portions and whatnot. I take some solace in the fact that I'm pretty sure I'm eating far less than I did before the surgery and not feeling bad about it. I just wish there were clear signs, like some flashing window on a heads up display telling me the fuel tank's full, time to stop!!
Okay. So right now my guideline is to avoid discomfort. If the discomfort feeling hits, I'm eating too much, back off.
Oh, and the weight rocking. He explained that for many patients it's not a smooth curve down. It's a series of steps. They're not sure why the body does what it does, but it seems to level out for a bit, then fall...level out, then fall....level out, then fall. So I'm on a slinky trend now. As long as I'm in the guidelines of 20 to 25 pounds a month for awhile I guess I'm doing well.
He seemed to think all was in normal ranges for my situation. Yay, me! As the other doctor has said of me...I'm just worrying too much.
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