The Eve of something exciting

2007 is hovering. I know it's going to be a good year. But before we launch head long into a new year, I want to steal a moment to reflect back on the events and happenings of my life during 2006. It was a year that was peppered with ups and downs, good and bad.

The most monumental of events were:

• Lap band surgery - July
• Rob accepting a contract in Kuwait – September
• My grandmother passing away – October
• Cancer scare (luekaemia & breast) but declared disease free – July to November (I couldn’t bring myself to write about this in my blog)
• Loss of 16.4kg after bulking up to 96.4kg
• Starting a new job (developing new service for the hospital) – August
• Job hunting for work in Kuwait & Middle East in general – September to December

Although this year and it’s events challenged me in ways I would never have expected, it’s reward was that I learnt a little more about myself. I have developed a small sense of peace about myself.

So, the idea of 2007 fills me with excitement and anticipation --- the year that will be. I don’t know what for … but I have a gut feeling it’s the right time for a lot of things to happen in my life!

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL YOU GORGEOUS FOLK!

It's over! Hallelujah!

*Groan*

Thank the Lord Christmas is over! You know that you’ve been indulging just a little too much when a tin of Cadbury’s Roses is cracked open and you instantly know which chocolates you like/want without even having to look at the little guide to what’s what!

Mind you, I didn’t really eat that much real food but I did manage to guts down a shite load of chocolate, cheese and red wine! For shame.

So, in the 2 weeks leading up to Christmas and the grand event itself, I put on a total of .4kg. Not great but I bloody well enjoyed it!

Here's some piccies of our cosy little Christmas day in London sans the snow!:

The Christmas tree and table setting looked gorgeous and made you want to break out with spontaneous carol singing!

Sandra standing proudly by her turkey that was sufficient to feed 7-10 people even though there were only 4 of us!

.... Any yet another shot of the bird

A little tipsy photo taking ... champagne and raspberries

The girls ... (L to R) Sandy, me and Sandra

Santa baby

I am soooo excited and heartbroken all at once. I am really looking forward to spending Christmas with my girlfriend, Sandra ... but at the same time I can't believe it's going to be yet another Christmas and New Year that Rob and I are apart. Sigh. So over it.

I'm heading to Sandra's tomorrow afternoon, as public transport ceases entirely all over London from midnight Christmas eve for 36 hours! (I'm dead serious!) ... and trying to get a cab of any description on Christmas day would likely involve signing over the life of my first born as well as forking out a substantial amount of cash ... so, it's just easier and less manic to do it this way!

We're even planning to do midnight mass - at 9pm! - tomorrow night at the local Catholic parish ... carol singing, stern words and freezing cold ... it's a sure fire recipe to get us into the festive spirit!

Merry Christmas to all of you and your loved ones. May it be a peaceful, safe and happy time for you.

Is that a baby belly or were you just a guts?!

*Waddles in nursing a psuedo baby belly*

Aaaaaaww! My tummy hurts! I think I ate a little too much ... but it felt so good at the time. And as Sheryl Crow sings: if it makes you happy, it can't be that bad. That is until you have to reguritate a good portion of your gastric contents because it feels like you've swallowed a brick!

I went out for dinner with a friend of mine tonight and without realising it, reverted to an old eating habit. It use to be one of my worse habits: talking while eating. I found myself so absorbed in converation that I didn't pay too much ... actually, make that any ... attention to how much I had eaten or to the fact that my body was desperately signaling "whoa, girl!" with a song, dance and flashing neon lights!

Subsequently, I put away:

• Small glass of red wine
• Two small pieces of fresh mozarella cheese
• A slice of fresh buffalo tomato
• 5 small green olives
• 1/2 slice of garlic bread
• Small portion of lasagne
• Baby pana cotta with raspberry sauce
• Cafe latte
• Pina colada

Oh my gawd! That is the most I've eaten in ages (although if I was to compare it to my pre-surgery meals, it would be nothing)! Is it any wonder why my tummy hurts?! It was all fine till I stood up and then I felt like I had been filled with cement. As we meandered down the cobbled London streets, our conversation was puncuated with me belching in a most unladylike manner! Thank gawd Nick isn't too hung up on me adhering to the Debritt's Etiquette for Girls handbook 24/7!

Admittedly, it was such a mad day today that thinking back ... up until dinner, I had only ingested two 1/2 shot skinny lattes and six chocolates from the choccie box ... not exactly my finest day of eating, huh?!

Bring on the new year, another fill and some food sanity! *belly laughs ... closely followed by an agonised groan!*

The bloody wagon needs seatbelts!

Okay. So. To be honest, the whole ... umm, healthy diet and regular exercise thing? Well, it kinda went AWOL during the past 5 tumultous weeks. Maybe you got a feeling in your waters (as Kath Day-Knight would say) that that had happened. Don't get me wrong it wasn't a complete write off (how could it be when there is NO way on God's earth you can overeat?! *belly laughs!*) but I was less than dedicated to beating down the path of the Holy Grail. The combination of 3:30pm sunsets, ever dwindling temperatures and the general frenzy of the season saw me curled up in bed with a book or DVD by early evening. Yeah-huh! No exercise for the wicked. And certainly no guarantee of something nutritious going down my neck when one was in hibernation mode! But before you get all worried, let me assure you Dorothy is now safely back in Kansas. Eating well and moving her arse. But I do think it strange though, that when I am exercising and eating well I get this complete kick, an endorphin high and feel on top of the world. Yet, after a while the whole thing becomes, quite frankly, rather boring ... and I will find myself straying from the path of righteousness. Sometimes I will find myself crashing and burning and then other times it's only a trip or a wee stumble. But everytime I fall off the wagon, all I want to do is get back on again. Guaranteed. Weird. Maybe I just have a small masochistic streak, I mean ... I fall off the wagon, I get back on again, I fall off the wagon, I get back on again, I fall ... pardon? oh, you get the picture already?! You could've said so sooner. I tell ya what, the bloody wagon needs seat belts ...

My nutritional intake has improved and become regular ... which I became a little remiss with. I would find that I would not eat all day (not because I wanted it that way but due to either sheer laziness or because I was tending to have small spits/chokes nearly every time I ate ... and I simply did not have time in the day to allocate for spitting-after-meal!) and then only eat at night ... and even then that wasn't guaranteed if I felt exhausted. But I'm back in the swing of things ... eating (and not spitting as much), slurping the fizzy multivitamin and guzzling water for England. Go you good thing!

Exercise has once again become a joy not a chore. Did I actually just write that?! (I think I might just go lie down for a while now). I have been running like the wind the last two days ... okay, it's more like a three legged dog but in my mind I am the Cathy Freeman of the gym treadmill, the Marion Jones of the local running track ... *is that Chariots of Fire I hear* ... Bandit Girl leaves no footprints but dust! Hush - don't spoil my grand delusion, people! *giggles* Buts seriously, it has been good to feel the sweat and exert my body again. It is, after all, a fine piece of machinery.

I do have a couple of pieces of news for you about my changing body (despite the blips of the past four and a bit weeks):

• I stepped on the scales at the gym today after my session and saw 79.9kg! Nooo way! But I am not going to get prematurely excited because I need my HOME scales to spell it out sista, for this to be the God's honest truth. Of course, I promise to spill the beans to you next week when I weigh myself. Are we there yet?!
• I can now run for half an hour without any back pain. Before, when I first started running and weighed more, I would find 14 mins into the run I would start to experience right lower back pain (not surprising considering I have a severe spinal deformity). Which would mean for the remaining 16 mins I would run bracing my back with both hands which is probably not the safest or prettiest way to run! And now? Without even realising it, I have run x2 1/2 hour runs without even giving it a second thought! You little beauty!
• I no longer get pain in the arches of my feet when I do the cross trainer. I normally get pain in the arches of my feet (particularly my right) after 10 minutes on the trainer. I then have to slow the pace or stop. But, no more! Arch pain is banished ... I will now be the Master of the Cross Trainer. Mwah ha ha!
• I can now wear leggings and a short t-shirt onto the gym floor without looking like an embarrasment or fat chick try hard. I even think I don't look half bad in them ... I have a pert bum and some slick calves coming on! &
• I can now fit everything in wardrobe ... everything, peoples!

Am I happy? *smiles* Just a bit!

PS. Some of you may have read the original post - there are some slight alterations as blogger deleted my post somehow and I had to re-write this from memory!

Out with the old, in with the new

As a am a list Nazi, this entry is only about lists. Okay, okay ... it's only two lists. Pretty simple lists at that. The first is all the stuff that's bound for charity and the second is all an entire and honest list of all my purchases (except essential items) over the past month.

STUFF FOR PERMANENT DISPOSAL:

• Jeans (x2) (which I can get on and off over my hips without undoing the button or zip!)
• Black pants (which once fit but are now soooo big I look like I have no arse when I wear them and the crotch is located mid-thigh. Noice1)
• Black pleated skirt (below knee) (I never wore this but it's not even sexy!)
• White skirt (ankle length) (how on earth did I think a white skirt on a size 20 arse looked good?!)
• Cargo pants (x2) (too big & too old - 4 years+)
• Several blouses & tops (size 18-20 & XL)
• Crusty housewear (which honestly, is so hideous it shouldn't even be worn when no one's looking!)
• Underwear (too big &/or too holey!)
• Black & dusky pink 3/4” heels (I no longer need to wear low heels as the balls of my feet don't hurt anymore when wearing proper heels ... & besides they've accumulated a little mould along the way!)
• Black boots
• Black flip flops (very beaten up)
• x2 handbags
• Old makeup

AND THE NEW?:

• Jeans
• 3/4 denim pants
• Yoga clothes (tights & singlet for Bikram)
• An array of tops (including two mediums!)
• Strapless summer dress (in grey, pink & black)
• Corset & knickers
• Bras (underwire & strapless)
• Brown cardigan
• Black jacket
• Shoes: boots - in brown & black (different styles) & a pair of black kitten platforms
• Suede gloves (after leaving my black mittens on the tube accidentally!)
• Hand crocheted beanie
• Pashmina scarves (x3)
• Patterned tights
• Accessories (earrings and a bling-bling fake ring)
• Makeup & brushes
• Body Shop body products
• Dermalogica face wash & cream
• Tresemme hair curler
• Oral B electric toothbrush and accessories
• Books: Nigel Slater Cookbook; Debritt’s Etiquette for Girls handbook & Wedding Blessings
• 2007 diary (in silver)
• DVDs: CSI – seasons 4 & 5; Just Like Heaven; Shooting Dogs & Take the Lead
• CDs: Acoustic Love, Beyonce & The Killers
• Box of Jasmine Blossom tea imported from China
• Tulips (for the house)
• Small Christmas presents including: chocolates (from Thornton’s) and gorgeous bamboo and green tea shower gel (from Sen)

Um, is it just me or is the 'something new' list disproportionally longer?! LOL! It's funny ... I use hate shopping but now I'm kinda starting to enjoy it (as you can well see!). Although I'm not convinced my bank will be happy about this new found interest!

*Wonder Woman meanders in*

Ooooh hello!

I know, I know ... an extraordinary amount of time has lapsed between updates - but don't you be giving up on me!

I don't even really know where to begin .... so you know what ... I won't even try till the weekend where I can sit down and sum up the past couple of weeks.

But I'm dying to tell you about the unit Christmas party last night (the full blown, no expense spared hospital party is next Thursday at Lord's Cricket Grounds in London no less! Oooo la la!). I pulled out my cocktail dress, the 3" black stilettos and the new black strapless bra (oh my gawd! I'm down from a 40E to a 36H! H peoples, H! What the!?) courtesy of Rigby & Peller (the Queen's corsetieres - oh, I am sooo posh these days! LOL!).

Throughout the week I practiced the art of applying evening make up and I was so keen to do something amazing ... but in the end, I failed to give myself enough time to to the full monty with the makeup ... but I have to admit it still ended up looking better than I have ever managed previously.

I went to my gorgeous hairdresser (Gary at Cutting Crew Willesden Green) who whipped my dead straight hair follicles into luscious curls (in no more than 15 minutes - why is it that I can NEVER replicate that at home?!)

I spritzed myself with the ever sexy scent of Jadore, donned the bling bling pretend-but-looks-almost-real accessories, chucked a pair of flat dancing shoes in my "Mary Poppins Carpet Bag" (no elegant clutch purse for this chic!) and hit the town feeling like sex on legs.

I felt so amazing. One dear colleagues of mine walked passed me even after I said "Hi' ... he did that hilarious movie double take and said, "No way! You look amazing! I'm so sorry but I didn't even recognise you!". I gave him the look that said "Are you suggesting I usually look like a scruff?". I have to give it to him, he seems to be quite the master at the non verbal, body language and immediately began to spout, "I mean, you normally look good but tonight you really do look like a magazine model!". Bless his cotton socks .... Mum, can I keep him? LOL!

Several other colleagues were also quite floored including my boss who just looked at me and said, "My dear, you look absolutely stunning!". Sigh! Mission accomplished!

With comments like that, how could you not have a great night? Other than only being able to eat a couple of peanuts, two mouthfuls of lamb and a couple of glasses of champers and oj?! Pfft!















Only a couple of piccies at this stage - the one on the top left is of (left to right) our hospital interpreter and his wife, my very good friend, Sandra, myself and a darling colleague of mine, Julie (aka the new Mrs Notman!) and the one on the bottom right is of myself and Sandra (a little out of focus I know but it's still gorgeous!). I've got to harass friends for more pictures as my bloody camera battery died 6 picures in but a couple of friends got some really great shots!

*Smiles shyly* I love my ever evolving body ... but I must admit, it needs a little love and attention in the nutrition and exercise department. And I have just the plan for it in the new year!

Wax on, wax off

The last couple of days have been full of preparations for the trip ... packing, repacking, shopping, getting hair spruced up and then today, a lengthy rendezvous with the beautician. Which, yes, did include painful procedures ... specifically a Brazilian wax. I am by no means a waxing virgin ... and I have had a couple of Brazilian waxes in my time but today's was rather intense to put it mildly! I had this Polish woman who was insistent that I went panty-less. Once my modesty was stripped down to no more than a crusty, overwashed towel, she began to poke around in my nether regions for a while doing what I thought only my gynaecologist was licenced to do before unceremoniously giving my hoo-hoo a trim. She then proceeded to pile on the hot wax and rip away without warning ... consequently, my body remained insanely taut with dread for the whole appointment, kind not dis-similar to holding a abdominal crunch for 35 minutes! Pain for beauty ... what is that about?!

Following my rather sadistic appointment (which fortunately did end in a luxurious pedicure!), I decided to check out some High Street stores. Oh. My. Gawd! Oxford Street on a Sunday gives the saying 'taking your life into your own hands', a whole new meaning! ... the side walks are packed with a constantly moving sea of people. Negotiating this street truly test's one's patience, tolerance and love of humankind. The worse thing you can do when walking this street is to stop dead in your tracks ... firstly, you'll get a bollocking and secondly, you'll collect someone up your arse. So, what of course happened to me today?! I have now lost enough weight that I can walk out of my jeans (literally) ... these same jeans I can get on and off without having to undo the zip or button on them. Because I have already packed every decent item I own into my suitcase for Dubai, I was left with the dreggs of my wardrobe to chose from. The dreggs include these ill fitting jeans. I had forgotten how bad they were until I found myself haivng to hoick them up every few steps ... which is exactly what I had to do on Oxford Street today collecting several people up my derriere as I did so! Which earned me several tut-tuts ... understandably!

During my loitering and wishful window shopping, I came across the following bits and pieces I desire to own before Christmas.


I really, really want this little black (& red) dress from Monsoon. How absolutely gorgeous is it?! At a mere 135 GBP, I'm planning to snap one up pronto! Sigh. If only!

And, I finally managed to get my hands on this dead sexy cardy from Marks & Spencers last week. It previously had sold out but fortunately, last week limited stock had arrived! Thanks must go to my friend, Sandra, who worn this cardy with such style, it caught my attention and I knew I had to have me one too! Unfortunately, I had to settle for brown ... I really wanted it in black. I am going to try ordering it online ... if I can get it in the black, I think I'll return the brown one. This cardy is such a flattering cut and looks gorgeous on.


And last but not least, these boots! I ventured into Dorothy Perkins and spotted these boots immediately ... of course, when I asked for a size 5 in either chocolate or black there was none in stock! Aaargh! Sod's bloody law!

I truly believe there is a conspiracy in the retail industry to deter me from buying the stuff I like until I get to or near goal weight! I have a strange feeling I'll turn into a wee shopaholic for a while after I first reach my goal weight! I really am starting to like shopping .. what the?! LOL!

Oh! And by the way ... I did buy those sexy French knickers in a size 14!

Jet lag ... what let jag?

Oh my gawd …. isn’t jet lag a biatch?! I would’ve posted sooner but I’ve taken a liking to sleeping from 5:30pm to 7am … and have had the motivation of a sloth. I’ve been so slack that I haven’t even been bothered to eat an evening meal three nights running! Yea-huh … me and no food … you know things have to be dire!

An interesting thing I have found with long haul flights and my band is that my band appears to tighten up and leave me with very little appetite for a couple of days either side of the flight. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing but it does make it awkward to eat on a flight or with friends and family immediately after disembarking as I have found I experience a choke - without exception.

***
I was ferreting around early this morning trying to pack for my impending jaunt to Dubai. I stood there staring into the yawning cavern of my cupboard (which in reality is really no bigger than a bar fridge!) and decided what-the-hell-I’ll-try-on-all-those-items-in-my-wardrobe-and-storage-that-I’ve-bought-but-never-worn. And? And, nearly every bloody thing in my wardrobe fitted! I had a totally new wardrobe to wear to Dubai. It was a hilarious predictament to be in, as when I normally travel, I travel light … partly because I can’t be arsed packing but more to the point because I have never had enough clothes that have fit or looked remotely nice!
***
I will get around to posting about my trip home to Oz … but just now things are still a little raw and emotional. Add to that a little exhaustion … and I’m not sure I would be able to succinctly compile my thoughts. Not just yet anyway. All in good time, people … all in good time.

Miss Dee but I do answer to Wonder Woman

Oh. My. Gawd! How much are we lovin that camera angle!

And yes, this is indeed no other than moi ... Miss Dee: Wonder Womanthe Bandit .. coming to you in technicolour!

***
I only lost .4kg this week. Completely to be expected, I know.

I am going to have to go kamakaze 'Cold Turkey' with my chocolate consumption. Even the smallest piece - regularly - is affecting my weight loss. I can no longer deny it ... the scales don't (always) lie.

***
I'm heading back to Oz on Friday ... which means my blog probably won't be overly active for a week.

I have a gut feeling that it's going to be a trip laced with trials and tribulations ... tests, temptations and hopefully some triumphs ... despite having said this, I am determined to shift some lard even when I am home in the land of 'milk and honey'.

Look, I know it's going to be hard for you all not to have your finger on the pulse of Bandit Girl's adventures ... but I don't want you to panic. On my return I will let you know aaaaall about ... beginning to end! In the words of Monty Python ... "You lucky, lucky bastards!".

Careening around a sharp corner on 2 wheels ...

Oh my gawd! I have just perused my eating journal and found I have eaten chocolate 12 days out of 13! What the?! I know I haven't gorged myself on chocolate but it's the fact I've eaten it on a daily basis for a substantial period that concerns me. If I keep this parlarva up, I'm not going to lose another bloody ounce. To add to this, I've eaten atrociously over the past two days ... I have to get a serious grip. My two bad eating days have comprised of the following:

Wednesday:

• Muesli/yoghurt (1 cup)
• x2 half shot skinny lattes (small)
• Skinny blueberry muffin
• Chocolate
• Chilli con carne with low fat sour cream (1 cup)
• 250ml low fat milk

Today:

• 1/2 cup baked beans with 1 poached egg
• 1/2 glass smoothie
• Chocolate
• Half shot skinny latte (small)
• 15 cashew nuts/1 dried fig
• 1/2 glass low fat milk
• 2 slices of vegetable and egg pizza (no crust)

To the astute reader, you will no doubt notice my lack of fruit or vegetable intake ... I feel so disgusting and sluggish because of it. I must admit, my bad eating days are not nearly as horrific as they were prior to surgery. Back then, on a 'bad' day I would find my eating completely out of control .... not unlike careening around a sharp corner on two wheels. Nowdays, it's disappointing that I have chosen to pump rubbish into my body but it's not an irrepairable, fall-off-the-wagon-for-a-month-or-two mistake ... at the next meal I dust myself off and hop right back on the rickshaw.

***

I found my WW food journals at the beginning of the week ... thought I'd share with you an excerpt from my food journal prior to sugery, 6 weeks post-op and currently. I find it dead interesting ... but feel free to poke your eyes out with boredom if it's not your thing!

Pre-surgery:

• Banana
• 2 poached eggs, mushroom, tomato and onions
• Watermelon (2 slices)
• Ham, tomato and onion sandwich (2 slice of grained bread)
• Yoghurt (200 gram)
• Strawberries (1 punnet)
• 1 slice of toast with nutella
• Haloumi cheese (3-4 slices)
• Fried octopus and greek salad
• Diet coke
• Herbal tea

Post surgery (6 weeks):

• Porridge, milk and honey (1 standard serve)
• Babybel cheese (lite) x1
• Grapes (1 serve)
• Yoghurt (200 gram)
• Chilli con carne (1 bowl)
• 1/2 shot skinny latte (small)
• Pecans (6)
• Mandarin
• Yoghurt, honey and sunflower seeds (250 gram)
• Salmon fillet with grilled vegetables (& pesto)
• Licorice

Post-fill:

• 1/2 glass of smoothie
• Muesli/yoghurt
• 1/2 shot skinny latte (small)
• Chicken (100 gram), salad and lite mayonnaise
• Yoghurt, honey and sunflower seeds (250 gram)
• Chilli con carne with low fat sour cream (1 cup)
• Herbal tea

Just a small difference in the amount of food I can eat, huh? I'm liking it a lot! I sometimes still get hungry inbetween meals and have a small snack (fruit or yoghurt). If I find myself getting hungry inbetween I have found it's because I have either a) not eaten enough protein at the previous meal or b) not drunk enough water in between times. I mean, I'm still losing weight (although fingers crossed for next week considering my sub-optimal diet!) with my current level of fill .... so I just have to do a little fine tuning to my eating habits to kurb the break through hunger periods and all will be well.

Running ... only a little faster than walking!

There is some joy in the midst of despair.

My weight is slowly inching downwards. Last week's effort were rewarded with a 1kg (2lb) loss on the scales this week. I can thank my running efforts for that, me thinks. Yes, I have started running ... okay, calling it running is probably somewhat of a stretch of the imagination. But it is moving my body a little faster than I would do if I was walking. I found a program online (Couch-to-5k Running Plan) that introduces the novice to running ... easing you into the daunting sport. Ever so gently. I actually enjoy it, strangely enough. I feel especially sauve in my new trainers (high stability trainers with pronation reduction technology at that!) from Run and Become.

I'm quietly chuffed with myself as I have passed to weight loss milestones. I have lost 10% of my starting body weight (my actual weight the day before surgery was 95kg) which equates to a 9.5kg loss and I have lost 10kg. I have NEVER lost 10kg ever! I still get a little shock every time I do the maths. What? 10kg loss ... can that be right? LOL! And, my BMI has come down 4 points from 37 to 33. Noice!

My next weight loss goals are:

• 83kg (the equivalent of 2 stone loss - it's an English thing!)
• 80kg (the lowest weight I've ever managed to get to but never past in all my years of attempting to lose the lard & 15kg loss!)
• 79.5kg (just because it's a number under 80kg!)
• 77kg (10% loss of body weight from 85.5kg)
• 75kg (weight I was when I was 15 & 20kg loss!)

The funeral

It's my Grandma's funeral today (1st November) ... at 9:30am (AEST). I have shed an ocean of tears and now I am feeling numb. I'm really going to miss her.

Please send a thought and a prayer my family's way ... they're really going to need it.

I have included one of the songs that is to be played at her funeral.

HOME - Michael Buble

Another summer day
Is come and gone away
In Paris and Rome
But I wanna go home

Maybe surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
I just wanna go home
Oh I miss you, you know

And I’ve been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you
Each one a line or two
“I’m fine baby, how are you?”
Well I would send them but I know that it’s just not enough
My words were cold and flat
And you deserve more than that

Another aerorplane
Another sunny place
I’m lucky I know
But I wanna go home
Mmmm, I’ve got to go home

Let me go home
I’m just too far from where you are
I wanna come home

And I feel just like I’m living someone else’s life
It’s like I just stepped outside
When everything was going right
And I know just why you could not
Come along with me
But this was not your dream
But you always believe in me

Another winter day has come
And gone away
And even Paris and Rome
And I wanna go home
Let me go home

And I’m surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel alone
Oh, let go home
Oh, I miss you, you know

Let me go home
I’ve had my run
Baby, I’m done
I gotta go home
Let me go home
It will all right
I’ll be home tonight
I’m coming back home

A sad farewell

I received a phone call in the wee hours this morning from my mother ... my grandma passed away peacefully. She fought long and hard with that bastard of a disease called cancer ... it ravaged her body up until her last breath. But, she is now free to be the independent, vibrant spirit she has always been.

Farewell, Grandma ... I love you.

May you rest in peace.

Going home and the 5th fill

Things have taken a turn for the worse. I got a phone call at 3:17am on Friday morning. Before I even answered the phone I knew it wasn’t going to be good … in a nutshell, my grandma’s health had further deteriorated. She had been hospitalized and was to be transferred to a palliative care home within 24 hours. Her prognosis was not good but no doctor would commit to giving an indication of the length of time we might still have her for. She declined any interventions (including IV fluids) other than some morphine and anti-nausea medication. Her legs are apparently quite swollen. She is neither eating or drinking. When she does drink it’s the smallest of sips. As for eliminating bodily wastes – it’s just not happening.

Needless to say, all weekend I waxed and waned over whether to go home earlier than planned. After 4 days of indecision and loads of conferring with friends and family, I decided to stick to my original flight dates. It wasn’t the easiest decision I’ve ever made. I mean, I wanted to be able to say goodbye to grandma face to face. I wanted to see her that one last time. But as mum pointed out to me, she is barely opening her eyes when she does talk to you … everyone is just a voice to her. Despite this, I still wanted to be able to say goodbye – even if it wasn’t in the flesh. I asked mum if she could set up a phone call so we could speak for a few minutes. My grandma got on the phone … I was all choked up and ready to say what I had to say but grandma launched into her bit. It took her a couple of minutes but when she was done she was exhausted. I literally didn’t get to say a word. So, I’m in the process of gathering and ordering my thoughts into a letter (to be read to her by mum) to tell her that she was my inspiration to learn and travel. To tell her that I love her. To say goodbye and make peace with what is happening.

By choosing to go on the 10th November, the chances are that I’m not going to make it home before she passes away … but I feel I need to be there to support my mum after the fact. I want to be there to support her while she grieves. I want to be able to cut the ‘To do’ list in half for her so she doesn’t have to deal with an overwhelming number of things to do after grandma passes away. I want to be there to keep her company … fuss over her a bit.

Mind you, it’s been five days since she took a nose dive and she’s still with us. She’s a bloody tough battle axe – she’s waiting for something. Mum thinks she’s waiting for her quarterly superannuation payment to go into the bank before she pops her clogs. That would be so typical of her!

***
The band and weight loss?

Oh, fark! Yes, of course!

I went for my 5th fill on Saturday. I am now up to 6.6cc in my 10cc band. I had no problems downing a glass of water in the doctor’s surgery. The next morning however, I had a choke on a glass of water and half a multivitamin tablet. Gawd, the stoma must be small!

I stuck to fluids for most of the day today but this evening I ate my first solid meal since the fill. It was sushi. Have a guess at how much I could eat before I was full … 3 tiny cucumber maki rolls and one piece of salmon nigiri! I later followed it with a pot of yoghurt which didn’t sit too well as I was still full. I believe you’d call that eating like a sparrow! LOL!

I am still on a mission to lose 5kg before going to Dubai. But considering everything that is going on, I won’t be devastated if it doesn’t happen … I need to give myself a little room for error at the moment. Gently, gently. I know it will happen.

When it rains, it pours

When it rains, it pours … and it does so in bucket loads.

You know those times in your life where you’re rolling along nicely, real nicely … even getting a bit smug about how good your life is. Ying and Yang are in harmony. Life is good. And then … without warning … life hurtles around the corner, slams into you and leaves you wearing your latte on your shirt. That's exactly where I am, my friends. Wearing my fashionable skinny latte on my front and cursing quietly under my breath.

I am perfectly aware that everyone gets these not so funky dips from time to time – I’m not trying to be a martyr or beg for sympathy. And I have to admit, not all of what’s going on is negative but it’s stressful all the same.

The mish mash of stuff that’s going on at present includes (in no particular order except for the first):

• My grandmother being terribly ill. Terminally ill, in fact. Every day she’s alive is one more than was expected.
• Spending three long days scouring the internet for a reasonably priced airline ticket home so I could see my grandma one last time … prices range from 800-2400 GBP. Gulp!
• Purchasing tickets home (international and domestic flights) at an exorbitant price.
• My international air flight ticket has not yet been delivered (why do airlines still do paper tickets in this day and age?). I checked the website and they stated that they would not take responsibility for lost tickets and would charge a re-ticketing fee if you need the ticket to be re-issued. I could’ve paid 10 quid for courier delivery (covering me for re-issuing of the ticket if it happened to get lost) … but that seemed pointless as I’m not home during the day to sign for the ticket anyway. Consequently, the ticket is being sent via snail mail. I bought the ticket Monday evening. Royal Mail is meant to deliver the next day (if mail is in by 5:30pm). So I figure it should’ve been delivered today. It wasn’t. What’d you reckon the re-ticketing fee is? Sigh.
• Desperately trying to find a job in Kuwait so I can join Rob. But jobs are proving to be a little elusive. I’ve sent my CV out to my Kuwaiti patient’s relatives who have offered to help my cause – but as yet nothing has come up. I have been busy putting packs together with my CV, certificates and references to be taken to Kuwait in 3 weeks with the business manager of the hospital for distribution.
• Stress and worry about my recent choke. I worry that I might’ve done some damage – maybe slightly dislodged the band or something similar. It’s a completely unfounded worry but it’s there all the same.
• Suffering with some minor sinusitis. Bah!
• Finding a mobile phone a couple of days ago – I have been debating over what to do with it. I feel bad about still having it and not trying terribly hard to find the owner.
• Being financially a little skinny – especially after all the airfares I’ve been purchasing. Let me think … I believe it’s a grand total of five tickets. Two tickets to Riga, one ticket to Dubai, one ticket to Australia and one ticket from Brisbane to Cairns (Australia). Oh! And the Eurostar trip to Belgium for surgery.
• Not having enough patients at work at the moment to really justify me working fulltime hours.
• Winter is fast approaching again – meaning it’s darker in the mornings and getting dark when I leave work. The only consolation is that it’s not too cold yet.
• My dad failing to inform me that my professional registration was due … in June. I am now practicing without registration … which isn’t an issue here in the UK (as I am registered with the UK board) … but if I want work in any other country where there is no registration board, they want you to be registered in your country of origin. I was registered with the board for 9 years. I now have to complete the whole application again (which is very involved and time consuming) plus pay the application fee and registration fee. In total this comes to $400 AUD … almost 200 GBP. Which I really can’t afford at present.
• Secretly worrying about my health … I have a few things which have to be investigated. I don’t really wish to divulge my health issues but it’s stuff that needs serious and proper investigation. The clowns in the health system here are incompetent. I wouldn’t trust them with the family pet … yet alone my life. I’m going to get it all checked out while I’m home.

So I feel like I have a little more than the average chop suey on my plate at the moment but the only way is up. Right? Ummm … people? Hello? Where did you all go?

***
On a much more positive note, I have lost a further .7kg (1.5lbs) this week. Not bad, huh? Unfortunately, my dream of going home and having my family not recognize me is to be dashed. But not entirely. I have decided I’m not going to say anything this time around. Next time though. Next time it’s going to be a jaw dropping oh-my-god reaction for my family. I swear it!

My Grandma, the appetite and one helluva choke

My Grandma’s not well. Not very well at all. I had been thinking about her for a couple of days. Normally, I get an update from mum as to how she’s faring. But on Friday I decided to give her a call. I was caught completely off guard when she answered the phone with the hoarsest of whispers.

No big deal? Well, it kinda is. 2 ½ years ago my Grandmother was diagnosed with bowel cancer (after it was thought she had a bowel obstruction). She underwent the grueling treatment of surgery and several cycles of chemotherapy. Following this treatment, she was declared to have a clean bill of health. Less than 6 months later she deteriorated and it was discovered that she had two metastases. Once again, she underwent chemotherapy treatment. Around about 6 months ago (maybe a little more), she bravely decided not to have anymore treatment following scans that showed that while the chemo was containing the size and spread of the tumors, it was not shrinking them. She felt her quality of life was compromised by frequent trips to the hospital and the way chemo made her feel post-treatment. It was difficult to accept but you can fully understand her decision.

This decision has meant that she is no longer around a specialist consultant or having regular, routine tests (blood and liver function). She is seen at home by her GP. But, it now is thought she may have a tumor in her throat (obviously not confirmed) and her liver function is completely shot. I have no idea whether the deterioration of her liver function is rapid or slow. Not knowing this information is making it exceptionally hard to make a decision of when to fly back to Oz. With deteriorating liver function, at some stage her level of consciousness is going to decrease … eventually leaving her in a coma. The rest of her vital organs will pack up following the cue from the liver. I’m so torn over what to do. When on earth do I make an emergency trip home? I dearly want to see her while she’s still conscious. A trip back home at this time is going to cripple me financially … but she is my Grandma. I love her more than she knows.

***
Strangely enough, the anxiety and stress I’ve been feeling over my Grandmother’s condition has lead to me having a poor appetite. This is a highly unusual occurrence for me. Normally, under stress or during a very emotional time, I would console myself with food. I have never understood when people have talked about losing their appetite in times of stress. But for the very first time it’s happened. Instead of squashing my emotions down with food, I let myself feel the grief and sadness. I cried. I cried loads in fact. I talked to at least half a dozen people at work (including the oncologist) rather than clamming up and assuring everyone I was fine.

***
Note: I'm about to disclose the rather unladylike occurences of my "Choke from Hell" . If you're squeamish, I’d strongly advise you to find some other light reading!

Yesterday was a jam packed day (which included a massage and pedicure … aah!). I didn’t really eat enough. When I finally got home and was starving. I thought a piece of ham and a square of chocolate would tide me over until I made dinner. Ha! I inhaled the piece of ham – it never even hit the sides going down. As soon as I swallowed the first mouthful I knew I was in trouble. I got a slightly slimey feeling in my mouth. I ignored it, finished the piece of ham (in two mouthfuls) and followed it with a piece of chocolate. You’d think I’d learn wouldn’t you?! Not so. I immediately could feel that something was stuck. I had pain in my chest. I was producing a ridiculous amount of slime. And then some more slime. And did I mention the slime?! I brought up over 2 cups of clear slime over 45 minutes but nothing was moving. I then started bringing up chocolate slime. I couldn’t sit. I couldn’t stand. I certainly couldn’t lay down. The discomfort was incredible. I stood under a scalding hot shower for 50 minutes. At this point, it was 3 hours into the “Choke from Hell”. I got out of the shower, bawling my eyes out and still feeling that something was stuck in my stoma. I grabbed the phone ready to ring the administrator/doctor. But just as I got the phone, I was hit with a feeling that I needed to vomit. I leaned over the kitchen sink and violently hurled (eww! but it was the first receptacle I could get to!). I felt miserable. I couldn’t keep my own saliva down. If I took a sip or two of water – it would immediately come back up. I madly texted Rob. And Jaap (company administrator/doctor). And Em. I tried to call Sandra and C – but I only got voice mail for both of them! I felt so alone and scared. Rob felt helpless – not sure what to tell me. I began a series of volatile hurls – and it wasn’t just the contents from my pouch; there was also stuff from my stomach proper (as I could taste that awful metallic taste you get when you vomit). Em called me ... 30 seconds into the conversation I was bent over the toilet – unable to get the phone far enough away from me as I hurled, Em had the pleasure of living the experience with me. Jaap called on the mobile. Em hung on the landline. Jaap assured me that it would pass. He also informed me not to drink and vomit if I had to (not that I had a choice!). I asked about going to A&E. He told me that there was not a lot they would be able to do. I just had to hang in there. I went back to my call with Em. I still felt very ordinary but something had moved since the last vomit. Unfortunately, I got an attack of painful hiccups (which I had been getting on and off during the whole episode but these were particularly uncomfortable). 6 very long hours later the incident was over. I was exhausted. My eyes were blood shot. I had a red rash from my breast bone to my chin. I gingerly lay down at midnight with my head propped up on not one, not two but three pillows. My tummy was very tender and I could hear to making a racket. I had a fitful night’s sleep. The first glass of water I had this morning felt a bit heavy in my stomach. And I struggled to eat a single slice of toast 2 hours later. Things have since improved but I’m eating like a sparrow today … not such a bad thing I guess!

I want to thank Em for being a champion. She heard me hurl and audibly wince in pain with hiccups for an extened time but kept talking to me all the same. She stayed on the phone as long as it took … it made me feel that I was not alone.

And to Jaap … who got a frantic text at 9pm (11pm in the Netherlands where Jaap resides) on a Saturday night. He very kindly called almost immediately to talk me through what was happening … and offered me reassurance. He also shot me an email about foods that can reek havoc with the band and two text messages today to check up on me.

And of course, to Rob … who was quietly freaked out but managed to reassure me that it would pass. Who was the first to check up on me this morning. He admitted how helpless he feels when I have chokes and asked ever so nicely if I would cut my food up into very small pieces in Dubai … and in essence, not choke! LOL!

Here’s to 6 long hours and one very hard learned lesson!

Help me! I'm melting!

“Help me! I’m melting”, as the Wicked Witch so aptly put it. And so am I. Maybe not as spectacularly as the good witch herself but the lard is making it’s final exit (albeit gradually!). The process seems soooooo slooooowwww – especially for one who would opt for instant gratification over hard slog any day! And at times I struggle to accept that this transformation of my life will be a marathon not a sprint. But now even I can see that there are some results rearing their lovely heads. And I feel bloody chuffed, thanks for asking!

So, as my ticker illustrates, I’m now down to 86.5kgs (190lbs) when I am completely starkers! (according to my new scales). At the end of the day I’m only 0.3-0.5kg heavier than I am in the morning. Not bad, huh? A further loss of 1kg (2.2lbs) will mean I have lost 10% of my body weight since surgery. Research suggests that even a 10% loss of your original body weight will have immense positive effects on both your health and body. Nudge that weight loss up to another 1.5kgs and I will have lost 10kg (22lbs). Woohoo!

I measured my BMI and total body fat this morning as well. My BMI is now down to 33.8. The day before my surgery my BMI was a scary 37.2. Another 8.8 BMI points and will be borderline healthy. I figure that’s about another 20kgs. It’s a long way to Tipperary! Make that a bloody long way!

***
Two things occurred to me today:
1) My work pants are definitely getting looser. When I first started wearing them, the pockets bulged over my hips. The pockets didn’t sit flush. The waist band sat on my waist. And today? I was in the bathroom and noticed that my pockets no longer bulge and the waist band sits 2” below my belly button! Yesterday during a homevisit, I had to keep hoiking my pants up to preserve my modesty. Note to self: must buy a new pair of pants ASAP unless baring my underwear to the world is considered tasteful
2) My hips and knees no longer ache. I still get the occasional back ache but only after I do some hard core pilates focusing on my back and even then it’s only a little twingey

It’s all these little things that keep me focused. Small rewards, little gems - not necessarily associated with numbers on the scale. I am one happy possum!

French knickers

At 11:00am on the nose every day for the past week and a half my mobile phone trills a reminder. It reads:

“9.5kg in 8 weeks … YOU CAN DO IT!”

Cheesy – absolutely! Effective – you betcha! It seems to help keep me focused. I will admit that I do feel like I'm turning into a born again WW fanatic (defined as someone who turns into a food nazi and starts posting ridiculous Tony Robinson snippets all over the house) but you gotta do what you gotta do to keep the momentum going! As of tomorrow, I’m going to have to update it … as I have now bought a set of scales to weigh myself and as of this week, it's only 7 weeks to Dubai.

***
Yesterday I spotted some sexy French knickers in Dorothy Perkins that I am so going to buy. They’re gorgeous – completely lace with this little cut out above the bot-bot crack and above that a satin bow. I have never owned something so feminine before. I'm just so excited that I will be able to buy lingerie in a 'normal' size!

***
I’m noticing that I’m starting to eat less … not necessarily because of the band (I’m yet to achieve proper restriction) but because I’m not as focused on food. Don’t get me wrong, bandsters … I don’t eat nearly as such as I use to but I can still eat way too much for someone who has a lap band. But I had a great food experience yesterday. I went to my favourite Italian restaurant and ordered what I have always have - spinach and ricotta ravioli. I ended up eating only half the portion. What's that about?! Prior to surgery, I would scrape the plate clean, wash it down with a diet coke chaser and follow it awfully closely with a warm chocolate pudding and a latte.

These days I’m trying to squish so much into a day that I barely have a moment to lust over food. My interest has waned. I eat to live, not live to eat. Since I’ve seriously hit the gym, added a few extra curricular activities to my week and thrown myself head long into my job, I’m feeling fulfilled. Ordinarily, on a day to day basis, I would cram food down my neck to combat feelings of boredom, loneliness, anger, frustration … etc ad nauseam. But it has dawned on me that I’m not medicating myself with food. I am finding other outlets for my emotions which is a massive, massive accomplishment.

***
Tomorrow is weigh day – nekked weigh day! Bottoms up to waiting with baited breath!

Operation Downsize

Time moves so swiftly. Too swiftly perhaps. I mean take the following for example:
• It’s been a year since I moved from Riyadh to London which essentially means one whole year that Rob and I have been living apart (not for much longer … fingers crossed!)
• It was 2 ½ months ago that I was nervously anticipating my surgery
• A whole week stole by before I realized I hadn’t blogged
• It’s nearly Christmas … again! (wasn’t it just yesterday?!)
• I have 7 short/long weeks until I head to Dubai. It’s going to be 7 agonizing long weeks in the respect that time drags whenever I anticipate seeing Rob again. Yet it will be 7 short weeks in that I have such a short time frame to reap the rewards in Operation Downsize.

Yup. I have renewed focus, commitment and determination to considerably downsize the lard before touch down in Dubai. Don’t get me wrong. In the beginning I was always hoping to lose a bucket of weight before Dubai … but as the fills weren’t really working out to plan in the respect of providing sufficient restriction and things in general were (as I saw it) grinding to a virtual halt, I kind of gave up the hope of a semi transformation.

But … I have jumped on and off a number of scales over the past week. The weight readings vary from 85-87.5kg. At best this means a loss of 10kg (22lbs) and at the very worse a loss of 7.5kgs (16.5lbs). Not bad considering I’m not sufficiently restricted. I have decided though that I need to invest in some digital bathroom scales. I know that many people say that you should stash your scales outta sight and judge your success by how your clothes fit, which is sensible enough but I need a single scale on which to weigh myself for Operation Downsize.

To add to the excitement of the scales is that I have lost 5 ½ inches off my stomach and 3 inches off my waist! And if that wasn’t inspiring enough, I yesterday discovered I was able to fit into a few bits and pieces in my wardrobe that I have either a) never been able to wear but bought because they were so gorgeous I couldn’t pass up buying them or b) I have only been able to wear a couple of times before I became a full blown lardy lard arse.

I discovered I was able to fit into a little black cocktail dress that I have never been able to wear. I wore it to a party last night combined with my strapless bra which up until a couple of months ago, I couldn’t wear as my breast-ages were so pendulous and the fat around my ribs too ample that it felt as though I was being cut in two if I wore it longer than 10 minutes. I even wore my 2 inch black heels that haven’t seen the light of a disco ball for 2 ½ years as they would kill the balls of my feet when I was standing due to my excess weight. I’m not tiny and not anywhere near my goal weight but gawd, as Kel Knight (Kath & Kim) would say I felt like a “foxy lady”!

The other bits and pieces of my new/old wardrobe include:
• A pair of dark wash jeans I bought 2 years ago (only worn a handful of times as they really cut into my waist and made me ultra aware of my dough like thighs)
• A dusky pink Victorian button up blouse (which I bought on a trip to see Rob but never wore as the buttons strained to stay done up over my boobs)
• A slew of underwear – from ultra white cotton briefs (never worn, hence, ultra white) to lacey boy leg panties to g-strings
• A gorgeous evening gown from Monsoon – a dusky pink; ruffled & boned bodice; strapless; A-line flowing skirt (3 layers of chiffon and satin); mid-calf length (I bought this dress almost 3 years ago for a song. I first saw it for 180 GBP. An end of season sale saw it reduced to 120 GBP. At the very end of the sale, it was reduced to 30 GBP. Naturally, at that price I bought it whether it bloody fitted me or not! Needless to say, it didn’t fit me and hasn’t until yesterday! Admittedly, I don’t feel dead comfortable in it. It still felt a little tight in the boob area and I could do with losing a few more inches in my tummy/hip area before I’d feel ready to wear it out in style. But I was able to get the zip completely done up! Woohoo!)

So, after feeling like sex on legs last night, I am determined to get into the high 70kg bracket before Dubai. That’s seven weeks to get from 85-87kg to ... fingers crossed ... 79.8-79.9kgs. It’s a lofty goal, yes but dammit I’m going to give it a bloody good go! I have dubbed this grand effort “Operation Downsize”. I'm going to stick to the plan I already bashed out in the last entry.

In parting all I have to say is: Go, you good thing!

You want me to what?!

Gawd, do I have a bloody funny story for you! It’s dead ridiculous actually. On Friday after work, I rocked up at the gym raring to do some brisk laps in the pool. The pool at the gym is rather small (making an understatement). It's 25m with four lanes. The gym offers swimming lessons to wee kiddies in the afternoons (3-5:30pm) which takes up one lane of the pool. Then there are two un-cordoned lanes for people to faff around in. That leaves ONE lane dedicated to people who are serious about swimming. I would normally rock up to swim at around 5:45pm, by which time the swimming lessons are over. Which means there are then lanes free for swimmers – one which can be used to swim any style and the other is for front stroke only. Sooo … I turn up this day when there is only one lane free. I sigh to myself as soon as I spot that there are three women already swimming laps. BUT … they are all swimming breast stroke at an incredibly slow pace. In bikinis. What the?! I jumped into the pool and began swimming laps … continuously. Meanwhile, the afore mentioned women were resting after every lap. Ahem? But just as I’d come up to the wall to turn, one of these bloody women who were resting, would decide to launch off at that exact moment. No wuckers, I would think to myself, I’ll just nip around you. At one point, I was overtaking one woman as another was coming in the opposite direction. As any serious swimmer knows, in a tight squeeze, you can fit three in a lane. It certainly doesn't leave anyone room but it enables faster swimmers to keep their pace while slower swimmers can ... well, do not much! LOL! Any hoo, we all passed by fine - admittedly it was a squeeze but no one collided. I think it was about four laps later, I was turning at the wall to head up the pool when this woman grabbed my arm (half drowning me, mind you!) and said in her posh, irritating voice, “I can’t believe it! Why do you have to swim so fast, weaving in and out of people. Why can’t you swim slow and wait behind the person in front of you?”. I looked at her with mouth agape. “You want me to what? Swim slow in a lap pool? The lane is for lap not leisure swimmers, madam”. I turned on my heel and continued my lap. What a moose! I detest women who go to the gym and pretend to exercise. It’s a pet hate which I will never be able to reconcile myself to!

***
I pampered myself like a goddess this week. I exercised like I promised myself. My spa appointment was AMAZING! A full body brush, a salt scrub, an energizing shower and a massaged with essential oils made relaxed me to the core and my skin felt sooo silky! I purchased a body fat monitor (gauges your total body fat and BMI). And my treat to see the “Vegemite Tale$” in the West End last night rounded off the week nicely!

***
If you’re bored to tears by lists and anal plans may I suggest a change of web site immediately?! Because yesterday I mapped out a total body plan for the next 8 weeks (leading up to the Dubai trip) which I’m about to scratch out for you.

EXERCISE:
AIM: For 5-6 days of activity; short 1/2hr moderate pace walk on day off (Sunday)

• Gym x 3-4 per week (including weights/pump, pilates, body combat, swimming, rowing and cross training)
• Bikram yoga x 1-2 per week
• Belly/salsa dancing x 1 per week

EATING:
AIM: For calorie intake of 1200-1400
• Eat high protein food
• Eat three meals with 1-2 snacks
• Have 1-2 more fills
• Use WW points record book and supermarket/eating out guide
• Dinner out: no more than once/twice per week
• Chocolate: 1-2 per week
• Coffee: no more than 3 skinny lattes per week

WEIGHT/MEASUREMENTS:
The following will be recorded on a weekly basis:
• Weight (at approx 10am on a Tuesday)
• Measurements (full body)
• BMI (with body fat monitor)

CARING FOR SELF:
• Massage once every three weeks (lymphatic drainage)
• Body brush x 2-3 per week
• Body scrub x 1 per week
• Facial once a month
• Pedicure once a month

Right! I’m off to apply some elbow grease to my plight. Here’s to hoping I get results!

Enhance your calm

Haaaaaa. The prodigal daughter returns with her calm enhanced. My apologies kiddies, for my previous ranting and raving … I was thoroughly fed up, frustrated and exhausted. Having this lap band is by far the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to contend with in my effort to lose the lard. Re-learning to eat. Learning the art of patience. Dealing with frequent disappointments.

But … my faith in my band has been restored. Why? Not sure exactly. I don’t want to throw in the towel prematurely. A couple of days ago, I placed a post on the message board of a forum (for bandsters) regarding my disappointing lack of restriction. I was flooded with replies reassuring me that what I was experiencing was perfectly normal. I was relieved to hear stories from other bandsters who have a similar 10cc band who wrote that it took up to a cc capacity of 7 to 8cc to get good restriction. Phew! LOL! Maybe I misunderstood the fill/restriction thingy … but I was under the impression that fills provided gradual restriction ... a little this time, even more the next.

I think I may have a little restriction. I say may because I have no real idea what it’s meant to feel like! That said, I can say with absolute confidence that it sure as hell ain’t the coveted ‘sweet spot’ restriction! *belly laughs* So what’s the deal, you ask? Umm … let’s see. This morning I ate some yoghurt & muesli (3/4 cup total) for breakfast (at around 7:40am). I didn’t think about my stomach again until 1pm … at which point it started to make some serious noise. Noice! I mean, last week I felt hungry only an hour or two after eating! My restriction isn’t fabulous in the afternoon/early evening though. I seem to be getting quite hungry at around 4-5pm. Not quite dinner but eating a snack at this time leaves me with no appetite for dinner at around 7pm. But then, if I don’t eat at 7pm because I had a snack, I’m then ravenous at 8:30-9pm. Sigh. What to do? I guess a tweak or two more in my band and I should be home and hosed … on the way to losing some serious lard.

***
My calm has also been considerably enhanced by taking care of myself. I have been to the dentist (Oh my! What a faaarking big needle he put in my mouth!). I moved my arse both yesterday and today (swimming and power walking). I’ve added a good ‘ole vitamin B6 supplement to my diet to pep me up. I have been grocery shopping for quality, whole foods. I’ve reduced the number of Saturdays I had scheduled myself to work (up until September I have been working EVERY Saturday on top of a full work week). I have been eating okay (admittedly, not perfect … bad habits are going to be slow to break). And I’ve given myself some things to look forward to through the week – dinner with friends, a spa appointment and a night out to see a West End stage play.

Down funks & dieting

I haven't felt like much this week ... well, other than being bone weary and in a little down funk. I'm not sure why. I have been teary and out of sorts. Perhaps it's just emotional exhaustion. Missing Rob. Fed up with this bloody band parlava. Complex patients at work. Added to that is the fact that I haven't nurtured myself this week. I've done bugger all exercise. And to top it all off, I was ill on Friday and took the day off work.

So, this week I have planned to spend some quality time on myself. I have a dental appointment on Monday (I know, I know ... you all think I'm weird ... but looking after my dental hygiene is important to me. Having a gobful of healthy cavity free teeth makes me feel good); on Thursday I have treated myself to a spa appointment (one whole hour of being scrubbed from head to toe with salt scrub, an aromatherapy Japanese shower and a full body massage ... aah, heaven on a stick!) and on Saturday I'm off to see the "Vegem!ite Tales" (a stage play about a group of Aussies living in London). I have also made a promise to myself to go to the gym three times this week ... even if it's only to swim laps for 40mins.

***
I went for my third fill today. This whole experience is making me increasingly angry, disappointed and frustrated. I have now had three fills in four weeks and have ... no, none, naddah restriction (except maybe in the morning and even then, it's not serious). Sigh. I have forked out almost 3000 GBP for surgery and a further 270 GBP for three fills and I'm not getting anywhere. I'm not losing the oodles of pounds (other than out of my purse) that every other bandster is. I long for this elusive restriction that the bandster world harps on about. I mean, for crying out loud, I am now up to 5.6cc in my band (keeping in mind that my band holds 9cc) and I still have no restriction. 3.4cc more and I'm out ... after 3.4cc, my band will be at full capacity and then what? Faaaark.

My frustrations are only further enraged by the bloody doctor who does my fill. He harps on about 'cravings'and 'dieting' and that I will have to deal with being hungry. What the?! Let me tell you a thing or two Doctor I've-never-really-had-a-weight-problem ... 1) the band is meant to be a tool that limits how much I can eat (meaning I can never overeat but it does mean I can still make bad food choices if I allowed myself), 2) the band (when adequate restriction is achieved) is meant to slow down the passing of food from my pouch to the rest of my stomach resulting in a feeling of being satiated for 3-4 hours ... not the measley 1-2 hours I'm currently experiencing, 3) buddy, this band is about changing my lifestyle ... not about dieting and being starving hungry for the next 40 years of my life. If I wanted that I would've found a way to be anorexic, you prat and 4) I AM NOT HAVING CRAVINGS ... IT'S NOT ABOUT HEAD HUNGER (although I appreciate I will struggle with this from time to time) ... IT'S ABOUT NOT BEING PROPERLY RESTRICTED AND BEING BLOODY STARVING ALL THE TIME!! The man infuritates me. A couple of unsavoury words found their way out of my mouth in an attempt to explain my frustration with this whole bloody experience. And I almost cried angry pent up tears in his office today ... but I'd be loathed to let him see me cry. To make things even better, he proceeded to tell me about a woman who had lost about 20kgs since her surgery in April. Nice one, you prat. I'm failing, she's succeeding ... why tell me that story? It only served to make me feel worse about the whole sorry mess. I think he knew how inappropriate the story was as soon as he told it as he changed topic with lightening speed.

Every fill I've had the doctor tell how I'm 'now' at a good fill level. He tells me that I'll feel something 'this time' but nothing happens. I want to scream and shout and burst into those angry unshed tears. I'm so bloody worried I put myself through a small personal hell for nothing. Sigh.

Travel & chokes

The trip to Riga was great. I’ll be honest though, it isn’t somewhere you’d want to go if you want to ‘do’ things or see amazing sights. But it’s fantastic if you just want to relax in an outdoor café sipping a latte or downing a beer while listening to live music.

Our hotel was rather quaint if not slightly bizarre. The room we had was located in the roof! Reception was located on the third floor of the building .. our room was on the seventh floor … and the best part? The lift only went to the fifth floor! Ha! What’s that about? LOL!

On the Saturday, we were wandering around this amazing parkland in the heart of the city when we happened upon several wedding parties. Oh. My. Gawd! The fashion was so bad it made you want to belly laugh! It was soooo tacky! Think 80s … think taffeta … think leopard print. Cringe! We had such a laugh quietly poking fun at these poor, unfortunate souls (I know it’s probably really bad karma!)! People, if I’m ever seen in similar clobber … contact your local fashion-nasta for my immediate arrest! LOL!

****
Of course, over the past seven days I have had a couple of ‘chokes’. It’s bound to happen at least a dozen times (or more!) … I mean, prior to surgery I inhaled rather than ate food – so it’s going to take me an age to learn these new eating habits! ‘Choke’ culprits have included pecan nuts, yoghurt (what the!?), chicken and salmon. The yoghurt and the salmon were because I ate too fast. The pecan nuts and chicken were because the food was way too dry … it just seemed to get caught on the way down.

I am eating less now than before surgery but not as little as I should be. My restriction is minimal - I only really feel it in the morning. Come evening time, I can eat a normal size meal without hesitation. Sigh. So guess what?! Ah huh. I’m off for yet another fill on Saturday - hopefully, this third fill will result in some serious restriction and precipitate weight loss ... finally!

'Soft' signs

I think I may have a little restriction … not enough to limit me to eating a piddly ¾ cup of food that is recommended (what am I … a sparrow?) but I’m relieved to feel something. I ate soup today for lunch and about three spoonfuls from finishing, I realized I had a runny nose (and the soup was not spicy … what the?!). I have read that a runny nose, a small burp or hiccups can all be ‘soft’ signs that you’re full. Hard signs being incredible chest or shoulder pain! Hmmm … I hope I’ll always listen to the soft signs but what’s the bet I’ll ignore my body signals every so often and end up in pain? I’m betting a fiver?! LOL!

Blogging will be on hiatus for a week or so what with my brief sortie to Latvia. What this does mean though is that I'll have plenty of innane stories to blog about. Oom wa ha ha! You lucky, lucky bastards!

It's all about a compromise, dah-ling!

I had my second fill yesterday - an extra 1cc of saline. The whole process was over in less than 5 minutes and left me 90 GBP poorer. To be perfectly honest I don’t think it’s going to make one iota of difference but here’s to hoping. Patience, Grasshopper.

***
Yesterday was also fraught with much anxiety and trepidation. Rob phoned me on Friday night and told me that his flight details had been changed by his company. Instead of flying out on Thursday morning, he was scheduled on a flight out of Heathrow on Saturday evening. Damn. My heart sank. The reason he was flying out on the Thursday was because a mate and I were heading out on the same day for Riga (Latvia) for five days. How could I go back on plans I had made with a close mate months ago? I was absolutely torn. I mean, how could I possibly go off globe trekking with my friend (a male friend at that!) when the man I love and plan to spend the rest of my life with, would be sitting in my apartment for three days on his own? Rob had said to me that it was fine; he knew we had had this trip planned for months. By the end of the conversation though, he asked if there was any way my mate could find someone else to go with him at short notice. I had a restless night’s sleep – tossing and turning and ending up with a huge, knotty bird’s nest in my hair. By the morning, I had worked out a compromise. I could fly out on the Friday instead. This would mean a) my mate would have to fend for himself Thursday and most of Friday and b) Rob would only have to spend a day by himself instead of three. It meant that I would have to forfeit my existing flight ticket (if you are a no show on the day of departure, airlines cancel your return journey). I finally plucked up enough courage to ring my mate and explain the situation (it took me four hours to call him because I felt so bad about stuffing up our travel plans … I even had to ring a girlfriend to run the whole scenario and proposal by her! LOL!). Thankfully, my mate was very understanding. In the space of 5 hours, an airfare that was 140 GBP went up to 215 GBP. Phwoar! Bloody daylight robbery ... especially since my original return flight cost me a measley 90 GBP.

***
Last night I attended a ‘dinner party’ at my girlfriend’s place … which I could not truly partake in (yet again!). I ended up telling my girlfriend about the op earlier in the week when I knew I would be getting a fill (meaning I would be on fluids for 2-3 days). For the past 7 weeks, every time we have got together I have either been a) not eating because of the op (which was believable for about two weeks) or b) on fluids only because I ‘haven’t felt well’. I knew her suspicions were being roused and would only be further piqued if I turned up not eating at her dinner party. So I spilled the beans. She was a gem about it. I arrived at her apartment with soup and chocolate torte in hand (although I wasn’t able to eat it, it looked irresistible!). She served the bland looking soup with the same flourish she served the salmon with – bless her!

***
Yesterday’s events reminded me of what I have always known ... I have the most amazing friends ... they are understanding, non-judgmental and are always there to support me. I am one very lucky soul.

A sobering entry

A rather sobering entry, folks … you know how it's said that bad things happen in 3s. Who would ever have known? Three Australian personalities met their fate last week. Steve Irwin, Peter Brock and Colin Thiele (the author of ‘Storm Boy’). Irwin and Brocky died in tragic circumstances .. Colin passed away of old age.

Life is so fragile … so uncertain and so infinitely precious.

The week before last, I witnessed my patient pass away from a heart attack. The absolute chaos that broke out as we attempted to revive him and the subsequent quiet in the room when he was declared dead is difficult to explain. It is a humbling experience to be there when a person passes from this life to the next. I struggled with a multitude of emotions, with a deep sadness enveloping me for days.

My most sincere condolenscenes are extended to the families of the Aussie icons who passed away last week … and for my patient. May you rest in peace.

It moved!

Holy snapping ducks, Batman! The scales have finally moved in the downward direction. Yessss! Since Saturday I have lost 1.4kgs (3lbs) … it defies all logic but I have. I continue to be absolutely famished, so I wouldn’t be at all surprised if this weight loss is really only ‘water’ as opposed to having permanently eradicated some honest to God lard. I am now back in my ‘usual’ weight bracket … admittedly, at the higher end but it’s a relief all the same.

Despite this weight loss, I am still going to go ahead with my fill on Saturday. I seriously can eat way too much for someone who has a gastric band but probably right on the nose if I was on WW. I have hoovered down the following today:

· 1 cup muesli/yoghurt
· Ham, cheese and sundried tomato sandwich
· Small ½ shot latte (full cream milk)
· 2 soft licorice sticks
· ½ cup natural low fat yoghurt with honey and sunflower seeds
· Small grilled salmon fillet with vegetables (plus one teaspoon of pesto)
· Lite chocolate mousse
· Peach
· 2.5 litres water

Gimme some restriction, baby!

****
I ended up in one of the Middle Eastern Health Offices (Embassy) today in a bid to get authorization to see a number of patients in one of the hospitals I visit. Oh. My. God. It was a zoo! Think of monkeys with no manners and you’re about half way there! There was absolutely no order or decorum. In one doctor’s office I counted 28 people … all standing around this poor bugger’s desk yelling at incredible decibels! I had to elbow my way to the edge of the doctor’s desk. Fortunately, blonde hair and breasts tend to capture the attention of people pronto in a place that is only used to seeing male arabs thick and fast every day. I’m not sure how it came about but the doctor and I ended up discussing gastric banding with half of the middle east listening in (what the?!). The good doctor himself was a big man and was very interested in my experience with the gastric band. He plans to call me to discuss it in greater depth as he’d like to have something similar done. Hmmm … I’ve turned into a talking advertisement for Heliogast. I really should demand commission! LOL!

Fill for nothing

I'm so over this.

I want out.

Believe me, I don't want to be obese for the rest of my life but honestly, this whole band thing is getting extremely tedious.

My fill has not resulted in any form of restriction. I could still eat a vast volume of food without feeling full if I chose to but I don't allow myself. I limit myself to the recommended meal size of one cup (yep! that's all folks!) ... as a result of this drastically reduced food intake (without adequate restriciton) I am in constant warfare with my gut. I am always hungry. My gut makes more noise than a brass band ... and it's really been upping the ante in the last couple of days.

This means that on Saturday, I'm dropping another 90 quid to get a second fill. I then start worrying .. what if this fill has no effect either? Or what if it's too tight and I can't manage to get/keep fluids or solids down? The doctor only does fills on Saturdays and I happen to be away travelling the weekend after next. Is if anything goes wrong I'm up shite creek without a paddle. Sigh.

To add to the drama, I'm meant to be having dinner with some girlfriends on Saturday night ... but if I get a fill on Saturday morning, I can't eat for another 5 days (read: 3 days! LOL!). So yet another social event where I will have to be a non-participant with all and sunder starting to think I have a poorly disguised eating disorder.

The hungry well wisher

I'm soooooo hungry. It sucks being on fluids. And I'm supposed to do this for 5 whole days?! It's just not going to happen. Most people with gastric bands only have to wait 48 hours after a fill before they can start on solids again. Why am I so special to have to wait 5 whole days to eat again? Somehow, I don't think I'm going to be waiting until Thursday to eat again! I'm busting at the seams to know whether this fill is going to give me a feeling of restriction when I eat. Please God, I hope so.

****
I meant to say 'Happy Birthday, Mum' for yesterday but got carried away with my rant! I know Mum probably won't stumble across this blog entry for a good 4 months but I wanted to say it anyway! Yep. I haven't told my family. I want to suprise them! It's been so hard not telling my mum, as I share just about everything with her - especially the life changing stuff. Part of the reason behind this blog is for her to catch up with what happened on my journey before she found out. At this stage, I am planning a trip to Oz in January/February next year.

And a 'Happy Father's Day' to my Dad for today. Dad is not computer literate AT ALL! He will never read this blog entry ... but that's beside the point!

Fill 'er up!

I had my first visit to the Fill Station today. I was just a tiny bit nervous ... okay, okay .. I lie … I was uber nervous. My friend and I being the brave, independent souls that we are, agreed to provide moral support to each other during the The Fill ordeal. The whole experience was a comedy of errors. Public transport was on the blink – 5 tube lines were not operating due to maintenance work. The day was perfect to be venturing outdoors – windy, rainy and overcast. I was starving as I’d only eaten ½ cup of yoghurt for breakfast. My friend was running late for her appointment (our appointments were an hour apart, hers being the first); she attempted to call the number we had be given if we were to find ourselves running late. Of course there was no answer other than that of the surgery’s answering machine. We jumped a cab from the tube station to the doctor’s surgery. We clambered out of the cab to be greeted by a rather empty parking lot and an even emptier looking building. Hmmm. Strange. We rang the bell marked “Surgery”. At first there was no response. Definitely dodgey. An unkempt, middle-aged woman finally bustled to the door rabbiting on about the door being unlocked and were we there to see Dr (mumble mumble). What? Ummm … yes? My friend and I stole a glance at each other when she finally said in an intelligible voice, “Oh, the doctor isn’t here yet. I’ll just call him.” So much for busting our arse to get there on time. She rang the doctor to inform him that we had arrived. After contacting the doctor, she informed us that the doctor’s schedule hadn’t had my friend’s appointment time listed. His first appointment was supposedly mine at 11am. My friend and I raised an eyebrow at each other. Ooooh, boy … what have we got ourselves into? Some kind of back yard operation? Under our breaths, we discussed how dodgey the whole set up was (I somehow think there may be a change in our Fill Station doctor). I mean, for crying out loud, we were given our appointments three days after our surgeries … that was 6 weeks ago!

Here we were paying this fool 90 GBP for the pleasure of being messed around and punctured with a large hypodermic needle. What absolute value for money, I say. When the doctor finally appeared, he bustled in and was just about to scoot past us when he took it upon himself to pause to explain his late arrival (I didn’t have you on my list … I’ll be two minutes). Mmm hmm. Whatever. Let’s just get this over and done with, buddy. My friend was summoned to the treatment room; with her lovely lovely assistant in tow. I think the doctor was actually pleased to get two appointments done at once for the financial reimbursement of two.

Apparently introducing yourself is so yesterday. In lieu of an introduction he launched into asking us a barrage of questions about our recovery, food intake and exercise. We obediently rattled off answers. I reported feeling extremely hungry over the past week or two. I explained that I had felt restriction for the first 3-4 weeks following surgery and hadn’t felt compelled to eat or snack but that my appetite had recently returned to normal. He then went off on a self-righteous tangent stating that it would take willpower not to indulge my cravings and the band would not fix the problem. Listen here, you wanker. I was not talking about cravings. I was merely stating that I feel hungry and I was keen to have a fill to re-gain that feeling of being satiated after eating.

We both had questions for him; most of which he had difficulty answering. He would often start talking about something completely unrelated or talk over the top of us in a bid to bamboozle us into forgetting what we had asked about. Bloody tool.

We then stepped onto the surgery scales and had our BMIs measured. I officially lost 4kgs during my healing phase, 2 points off my BMI and 3 inches off my waist. I hoped for a much more impressive loss but at this time I’ll take whatever I can get.

The fill itself was quite uneventful. I had been nervous for no reason. The doctor told us that we would feel a prick as the needle pierced the skin but it would be less painful than a blood test. To be honest, I didn’t even feel the needle go in. He planned to put in a 4cc fill but he apparently felt some resistance after 3.75cc. So, 3.75cc it was to be. I had to drink a glass of water to ensure that I could swallow and keep fluids down. I ended up burping my way through a glass of water and had an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. But I deduced it was because I was bloody hungry rather than because I’d had an over fill. We were then told it would be 12 weeks until our next appointment, fills and emergency treatment could only be done on Saturdays (and of course, we’ll only ever have an emergency on a Saturday, won’t we?!) and that we would have to be on fluids for 5 days! Bugger off! It’s starting to feel like the only reason I’m going to lose weight with this bloody band is because of the amount of time I’m either on soft, mushy food or fluids.

I AM GETTING SO SICK OF WAITING. I just so desperately want to get on with this weight loss caper but it feels like I’m always bloody waiting. Waiting for surgery. Waiting for 6 weeks till I could have my first fill. Waiting 5 days till I can eat following the fill. What happens if I don’t feel any restriction when I start eating next week? I then have to wait for a Saturday to get an adjustment. Waiting, waiting and oh, what a surprise, some more bloody waiting. Sigh.

The static scale and a tummy tantrum

Sigh. I am so jealous. It’ll probably bring me bad karma for saying so. But I am. I fully understand that comparing yourself to another in the weight loss parlava can precipitate emotional suicide … or at least some frenzied disappointment eating. I happened to be browsing through some lap band blogs a couple of days ago and found one that was authored by a woman who had her surgery about five days before I did. In 6 weeks she lost a total of 26 pounds (11.8kgs) – taking her from 225 to 199. Kudos to her! It is an awesome achievement and she must feel on top of the world. I, on the other hand, am dead jealous. My weight loss hasn’t been nearly as impressive. The lack of downward movement on the scales has me fearing that maybe this is going to be a spectacular failure that has come with a massive price tag. Dammit.

I then checked out some general weight loss blogs …. a number of people doing the weight loss thing the old fashioned way are moving astounding amounts of lard on a regular basis. Sigh. Hey body – let’s part with the fat suit … it’s soooo last season. How ‘bout it? Please?

For all my whingeing, I have had four people comment on my changing appearance. I think at the moment, it’s all about the inches and not the damn number on the scale.

****
My appetite is as hearty as it ever was. I can pretty much eat the same quantity of food as I did prior to surgery (over the last three days). Obviously, there are some foods that don’t agree with me but the stuff that does, I find I can eat good, solid portions without grief.

I definitely feel hungry … despite how much or how often I eat. I get wicked hunger pains complete with audible noises! This afternoon I was interviewing a patient to the soundtrack of the Titanic - my stomach was carrying on like a naughty two year old having a tantrum! How many times can you say ‘Excuse me’ without it getting old?!

****
I have started fussing over myself again. I had my bits and pieces waxed, plucked and trimmed. I went and got my hair coloured and cut. I’ve been going to the gym regularly. I’ve been taking a little time in the morning to put on some basic make up. All this time, effort and justification for forking out the cashola went out the window leading up to surgery. Mostly because I was working like a fiend for months prior to going to Belguim (6 days a week leaving me completely exhausted) and all available cash was being squirreled away to pay for surgery. But I also stopped putting in the effort because I had put on so much weight that I felt disgusted with myself. I must admit, I feel better for looking after myself.

****
So, I am diligently saying my “Hail Mary”s and keeping numerous parts of my anatomy crossed in the hope that my (very first) fill will produce some obvious results. I am all about the instant gratification, folks! LOL! Here’s to being poked in the gut with a massive needle tomorrow! Ching ching!

Blow your whistle!

What a fantastic day! A couple of friends and I went to the Notting Hill Carnival to a laugh. It was awesome if not a touch bizarre! Uber loud music pumped from the truck floats. Whistles were blowing. Horns honking. People were dancing in the street. Every sensation was accosted. Sight. Sound. Smell. Touch. The crowds were as thick as thieves. The variety of people was vast – a real mixed bag! We hung over the barricades to watch the first part of the parade and then made our way through the throng of people to investigate what else was happening. We spotted a huge outdoor sound system set up – a disco in the street. It rocked! Dancing in the middle of the street surrounded by happy strangers on a warm sunny English day (yes – it was actually sunny in England?! LOL!). There were Caribbean food stalls on every street – people were even selling BBQ from their front stoop & letting you use their loo for a quid! I had such a blast! I would’ve stayed much longer except I really needed to eat. Despite there being food everywhere, most of it was stuff that doesn’t agree with me. To make matters a little more complicated, I have to sit down to eat and take my time (I can’t walk around mindlessly stuffing my face like the old days anymore!) – both of which were impossible to do at the Carnival!

My left knee ached a little by the time I got home. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact that I climbed up & down dale, elbowed through throngs, hammered up and down stairs or that I walked from SW to NW London today!

****
I knocked up a Thai green prawn curry (no rice!) for dinner which went down without an incident (thank God for small mercies!). I remembered to take my time, chewed thoroughly and took small bites! Maybe I will get the hang of this band thing. *Fingers crossed*

Purge (not the eating disorder)

78-79kgs = ‘The Massive Purge’. Yep. It’s at this weight I will purge my drawers, cupboards and cabinets of shite. All the stuff that doesn’t fit, the ghastly looking items I once bought thinking they made me look dead-sexy (ahem, at 95kg?!), the thread bare garments I am currently clinging to (as these are the only things that fit at present), the old handbags which have seen better days, the shoes, the holey underwear, the bras with the escaping underwires, the crappy, crusty makeup, the pills & the potions I thought would cure my obesity (cringe). I realize it must seem a strange point at which to do this purge, but for me it will be a momentous occasion when I reach this weight. I have not seen this weight since I was 14. That is half my life ago! My weight has been up and down most of my adult life. I hate to admit this but the heaviest I’ve been according to a secretly squirreled weight watcher weight record book is 99.9kg. I have mainly fluctuated between 80 & 88kgs. In all the time I’ve been on this lard busting wagon, I have never been able to crack the 80kg mark. This may partly be a psychological mind block and possibly a set weight that my body has established. To finally move out of the 80s will be terribly significant. A perfect reason to celebrate and clean my life of the clutter.

****
I’m disappointed in myself today. I have eaten a little too much chocolate. I cannot let this become a habit. The surgeon indicated to me during my pre-op consultation, that he was concerned about my perchant for chocolate; that this could become quite a stumbling block to my weight loss. He’s absolutely right. It’s empty calories. It’s not going to hang around in my pouch very long to make me feel full. Prior to my appetite returning, I didn’t have any desire to eat chocolate. I’m hoping after my fill next Saturday that I’m not going to feel as hungry as often, hence not as likely to dive for a bar of chocolate as a stop gap between meals. I must learn some serious self-control. For the money I spent on this bloody band, I can hardly justify failing this venture!

No pain, no gain?!

*mooches in looking slightly worse for wear* I would’ve written sooner but my plans went a little pear shaped.

Wednesday evening I ended up at the pub with people from work to celebrate my colleague’s impending nuptials. I’m not a drinker at the best of times (at the worst, I drink water spritzers) but I particularly hate going for drinks after work during the week. I feel like a cess pool sitting there in clothes I’ve worn all day in germ infested hospitals. And besides, I just hate the pub scene. The smoke, the smell and the amount of bodies jammed into one exceptionally small space. Yuck. And there is undoubtedly a finite period whereby you can drink water spritzers before someone begins whingeing and applying the pressure for you to join them in a tipple (pray tell, how does my not drinking affect you, you knob?!). I had to stay long enough to be polite but not long enough for my lack of enthusiasm to become apparent. I could think of a million different places I would rather have been. At the gym. On the phone talking to my boy. Don't get me wrong, I would’ve enjoyed going out to dinner and having a natter to my mates there, I just sooo hate standing around in pubs. It's a perfectly pointless excercise as far as I'm concerned. By the time I got home, I felt so wiped out that I had a cat nap. An hour and a half later the shrill of the phone startled me awake. *Smiles impishly* It was my boy! The night was well and truly over by the time we finished talking. No time for blogging, baby! I needed beauty sleep!

After work yesterday, I hit the gym (460 calories in 40 mins). Dawdling out of the gym, I mentally went through the contents of my fridge to determine what could I throw together for dinner. 2 eggs, coconut yoghurt, vegetables and a moldy packet of cheese. Hmmm. A quick visit to the grocery store was in order. I stood there in the meat section trying to decide what to have for dinner. Something high in protein, requiring zero energy and time to make. I grabbed a packet of chilli con carne mix. Chilli con carne with some light sour cream. Eeeexcellent! I happened to pass by the pork section on my way to the check out. I spied some lean pork medallions. I smiled to myself and thought, “Even easier than chilli! Throw a pork medallion on the George F*rman grill and steam some vegetables all while I’m having a shower!”. Perfect. By the time I got home I was starving. I put dinner on straight away … and couldn’t be bothered with the shower, I needed food! 10 minutes later, I sat down to pork with apple sauce and steamed vegetables. I got three bites into the meal (mainly the pork) when I got this gawd-awful-I’m-seriously-going-to-die pain. My past experience has been that when I eat something that doesn't agree, I experience discomfort but for no longer than a minute or two. This pain lasted 5 HOURS and 45 minutes. Most of that time I sat/stood/leaned in the shower with hot water blasting over me. I spat gobfuls of slime onto the shower floor. The stuff was even coming out my nose. Waves of severe chest pain kept hitting me with keen regularity. It felt like someone had a pick axe in my chest and would attempt to rearrange it whenever I thought the worst of the pain was over. I cried. I partially vomited. I clutched at my chest. At times, I could barely breathe. Oh, my gawd .. I’ve heard of the saying “no pain, no gain” but this pain had to be a joke. After what felt like an eternity, the pain suddenly dissipated. It left me shaking and hideously unco-ordinated. I had blood shot eyes. My neck and entire skin covering was bright red (from the scalding hot water I suspect!). I was exhausted. I made a frantic call to the company representative (the lovely chap I dealth with to organise my op) to check if what I'd just experienced was normal and should I be worried about having possibly dislodged the band. I was reassured that everything was okay and yes, it was normal as you learn to adjust to eating with the band. He suspected I had either eaten too fast or had too larger mouthfuls. I swear to God, I will never do that again. It was honestly like birthing a baby through my oesophagus! Naturally, after this harrowing event, all I could think about was studying the back of my eyelids. I poured myself into bed without further ado.

I feel a little worse for wear today. Quite tired and sapped of my usual energy. I suspect I might be in bed before the sun sets today! LOL! I'm still alive ... a little anxious about attempting to eat solid food again. I'll do it - just maybe not in a screaming hurry!