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!