Ch-Ch-Changes...

"You take the good,
You take the bad,
You take them both and there you have...
the facts of life.
The facts of life."
-Facts of Life Theme Song

Really, I can't remember a time in my adult life where I've been this small. The thing that really gets me, more than the sizes going down, more than the numbers dropping on the scale, more than the compliments I get from friends, family, coworkers, and strangers, is just how NORMAL I feel. It's almost like being undercover...I get more smiles from random people, I have normal interactions with clients and customer service folks, I shop at normal stores, and NOBODY realizes that I am really a Fatty McFatterson lurking in their midst! Now, this is because I'm no longer a Fatty McF, but just a normal looking woman going about her normal life.

Which, honestly, is fantastic. I love it. I feel so much better about myself, and so much healthier and more confident, and pretty, and yay me!

And, But, Here's where she starts getting negative folks--hold on to your hats! I am DEATHLY AFRAID IT IS GOING TO STOP. I mean, two months ago, I weighed 203. Today, I'm hovering between 193-195 (and of course, we all know my scale is kind--because both the gym and my doctor put me at 199-200). I've lost TEN pounds in TWO months?!??! And, I'm not complaining about in the sense that I won't take that kind of weight loss, but realistically, I've got another 40 pounds to go to be in the high end of normal BMI.

For a person who didn't start out morbidly obese, being 40 pounds overweight would be a serious trigger to "get back on the bandwagon" and "make some changes." I mean, plenty of "Success Stories" on WeightWatchers.com have lost LESS than forty pounds to get to their goal. And, and! The stats for bariatric surgery pretty much only "guarantee" a 66-70% loss of excess weight, which I've exceeded already, so I'm not sure how much more help this surgery is going to be in letting me get to my weight goal.

But I am NOT ready to stop losing weight here. Although this is the smallest and healthiest I've ever been, I'm not as healthy as I could be. In this weight loss marathon I'm running, I'm at mile marker 20--6 miles away from the finish line, and I'm tired, and it's hard, and it would be really easy to just plop down on the sidelines and call it a day. I mean, I've lost 134 pounds--that's awesome!! That's fantastic!! But I want to FINISH the marathon. I want to cross the finish line, arms in the air, whooping for joy that I really can make it.

Which is why I think that I need to bring out my "A+" game. In January, I joined a gym and cancelled my Curves membership in order to pump my exercise up a notch. I also started a fitness competition with my friends in order to entice me to go to the gym more frequently and work out.

Now, it's almost April. Three months have passed, and it's time to shake it up again. One thing I'd like to mention here, if I may (and I may, it's my blog!). Changing strategies, trying something new, starting again doesn't mean what you were doing before was a failure. It just means that it wasn't meeting your needs. Curves, for example, is a great gym--I loved it and still love it. The sense of family was great, the staff were awesome, the exercises was easy and fun and I wasn't embarrassed or afraid to go work out. But, after a year of working out there, I just didn't feel challenged anymore--it was a workout I could do in my sleep. And, I think my body was so used to it that it wasn't working as effectively anymore either. The same applies here. When I first signed up for the gym, just getting on the elliptical machines and lifting weights was new and different for my body. Now, I pretty much go in there and do the same few exercises and I think my body is just too used to doing it--I need to shake things up!

Last night, I asked a friend who is a personal trainer (and probably the best personal trainer in our club) to give me some tips on the leg press machine. The time before last night that I used the machine, I did 50 (that's right--five-zero) repetitions at 220 lbs, which was just ridiculous to me--I shouldn't be able to do 50 reps of anything at this point. And, my goal is not to have huge legs (especially since I'd like to see my thighs DECREASE in size, not bulk up!), so I wanted to know how I should use that machine. First, he told me that I couldn't have done 50 reps if I was using the machine correctly. And I said, "Ok, then show me how to do it." Once he corrected my form and had me start pressing the weights, whooo-eeee, kids, WHAT A DIFFERENCE!! He made me do about 20 reps, but my thighs were quivering for the last five and I wasn't sure I'd be able to finish them!!

He asked me, "What is your goal? I mean, why are you at the gym?"
I said, "I want to lose 40 pounds. Well, really, I just want to look like Jennifer Garner on Alias, whatever weight that may be for me--you know, no flab, athletic, toned, healthy body."
He told me that I needed to be sweating from the moment I walked in the gym until moment I left. When I am lifting weights, I should be doing a fast circuit through the machines with no breaks, so even lifting weights, I'm working aerobically. Then he said, "You should also take some of the cardio classes we offer."
I replied, "Oh, I'm scared of those classes."
He shot back, "Oh, and are you scared of losing 40 pounds?"
"Not a bit," I said.
"Well, then, are you paying money to be at this gym? And aren't cardio classes part of what you are paying money for? And don't you want to meet your goal? Then do what it takes to get it done."

And that's when I thought, Wow. I really need to put my money where my mouth is. You see, I've been going back and forth about hiring a personal trainer or not--the trainers before this one were just ok and it is so expensive, so I didn't know if it was worth the money (almost a $100/session) to get a trainer. But I can tell if I had ten weeks with this guy, he'd take my fitness to a whole other level--one that I can't reach on my own. Because you can't push yourself as hard as someone else can make you push yourself--you are always going to give yourself a little less.

It's funny, because just the other day I was counseling one of my students that you HAVE TO ASK FOR HELP. People can't read your minds, so they don't know how you are feeling, but you can't believe that you can get through your whole life just on your own power--you HAVE to rely on the support and encouragement of those around you.

And that's just what I'm going to do. When I get my next paycheck, I'm going to be making a few changes to my current regimen. Starting with a personal trainer, because if someone asked me what I was willing to pay $25 a pound to get rid of the last 40 pounds, I'd come up with the money some way. And investing in a personal trainer is really investing in myself. In my goals. In my health. In my future.

The other thing I'm going to do is start Weight Watchers, for three reasons. First, I know having a more regulated nutrition plan will be hugely helpful in making good food choices all day long. I tend to get into a food rut, and I know I could be eating healthier than I am--I just need to be reminded of it. Second, having the WEEKLY support of a group of men and women who are trying to lose weight is a huge help--I love my monthly support group, and I know having to check in weekly will be fantastic, especially since my friend Jacky is going to join up with me and we can watch each other's weight together! Third, WW also has a pretty comprehensive maintenence program so WHEN (not if, WHEN) I get to my goal weight, I can become a lifetime member and continue going to weekly sessions forever, if I want to. Which is really, really helpful, because I have a lot of life left to live, and I want to be at goal weight when 5, 10, 15, heck 30 and 40 years from now!!

Wow, did I ever ramble my way through this one! Here's to the good and the bad--'cause they are both facts of life! (Facts of Life!). :)

Dr's Appt

My 9/10 month Doctor's Appointment went really well. My labs were all good, although my red blood count was low. I've always been borderline anemic (in my medical opinion!), so my doctor prescribed another iron supplement to ensure my iron count stays in the middle of the normal range (the low end of normal still causes me to feel light-headed and dizzy). Also, I've been sans kidney stone for at least a month, so I'm going back to taking a calcium vitamin a day.

The *only* low point was my weight--on the doctor's scale, I weighed in at 200.5! :( I know that my scale at home is kinder than his, but even on my gym's scale (which is one of those push the weight medical scales), I weighed under 200! I know, I know, it's just a number, RIGHT???!? Anyway, it makes for 126 pound "official" weight lost in the last ten months, which is still pretty freaking awesome.

And, we set my goal weight while I was there. At first, the nurse said 180, but I negotiated with her (as I do) and now my Doctor's goal weight for me is 160. The nurse thinks that because I'm so active (both in utilizing this surgery and in exercising), she can see me at 150-160. This is good, because my goals of 165 and 150, fall pretty well within these ranges.

The other really cool thing was that someone (I'd give her a shout out, but in all the excitement, I forgot her name!) in the doctor's waiting room stopped me on my way out because they recognized me from THIS website! How fun is that! Now that my "secret" is out, so I'll probably share my website address at our next support group meeting. I'm glad that a) someone besides me reads this! and b) that my rambling can/was helpful to a fellow WLS'er. I know how important it was to me to read other people's journey's as I was researching and as I continue to go through "stuff" with this surgery, so it is fun to give back.

Feel free to say hello, if you are stopping by! And, ALWAYS feel free to ask me questions. If you know me in real life, you'll know that I'm a total chatterbug, so there is nothing I like better than talking (or typing) away!

10 Months!

Today is my 10 month surgiversary (I saw someone use that for the first time on the Obesity Help messageboards yesterday and it cracked me up). I've lost 133 pounds!

Ironically, I have my 9 month doctor's appointment this morning, so I'll post later on this afternoon to see what he marks as my "official" loss amount (and we'll discuss my new lab results! fun!)

Two months to go until my 1 year anniversary. I don't think I'll be able to make it to a normal BMI by then (164), but I will be lighter, stronger and fitter then! :)

The Elephant Complex

When captive circus elephants are young, their trainers shackle one of their legs to a heavy iron stake pounded deep into the ground to ensure that no matter how hard or how defiantly the young elephant struggles, he will not be able to escape. Years later, when the elephant has grown into his full strength and power, the trainer still holds him captive, but not with chain and an iron stake. The trainer can use simple rope and a wooden stake half-heartedly pushed into soft soil, and still the elephant will not escape. Why? The elephant is trapped by his mind, where his past experience has ingrained in him the futility of freedom. Even when freedom lies handily in his grasp, the elephant cannot fathom it.

The elephant and I might as well be siblings, because our experiences in life are so similar. You see, being fat wasn’t just a description of my physical appearance, but a life long mindset, one I first recall summoning at Kerry Moore’s third grade Luau birthday party, where I was ashamed to run around in my bathing suit and grass skirt (as all the other skinnier girls did) for fear of someone mocking my rounded belly. For a girl who has been “chubby,” “husky,” “stocky,” “bulky,” “tubby,” “full-figured,” “large-boned,” “flabby,” and “fat” variously since third grade, the state of being overweight defined me physically and mentally.

In the last ten months, I’ve lost more than 130 pounds (an entire supermodel!), and one of the most striking things I’ve noticed is how HARD it is to overcome the “elephant complex.”(And how appropriate that this can be named after the plight of the elephant, the animal synonymous with enormity). Can you relate? With a show of hands, how many people still get butterflies the first time they sit down in a fragile looking or rickety chair, silently praying to every god and goddess they believe in that the chair will hold their weight? How many people still can’t tuck in a shirt because they feel so uncomfortable and vulnerable exposing the (dwindling) expanse of tummy resting below the waistline of their pants? How many people still bow out of strenuous activities or athletic events, knowing that they would never be capable of competing with the “normal” people participating? And how many people still look in the mirror and “see” the same huge, misshapen body that they shed months (or years) ago?

At the beginning of my journey, my nutritionist told me that in order for this surgery to be successful, I was going to have to keep an open mind about ALL foods, as some foods I had loved before (can I get a what, what for chocolate?) will not agree with me post surgery, and some foods I hated (chicken!) would turn out to be a new favorite, if I opened myself up to the new possibilities. I know that advice was so critical to the healthy dietary choices that helped me lose the weight, and I think the same is true for our mindsets.

I have to encourage myself everyday to challenge my “elephant” mindset. Can I really exercise on the treadmill at the gym beyond walking speeds? Can I really accept a compliment about how pretty I look without immediately dismissing the complimentor as a delusional brown noser Can I really walk out the door wearing a shirt that fits instead of one that bags around me covering my imperfections? ? (Yes, Yes, and Yes, although some days I ruin the effect by spending the whole day fidgeting with my shirt trying to make it seem less “revealing” of my body’s actual shape.)

One of the hardest things about shedding the elephant mindset is that the list of things that you “can’t” do keeps diminishing day by day. Two months ago, I could only keep up a swift walking pace on the treadmill; two weeks ago, I could run at a 4.4 pace for 15 minutes at a time; two days ago, I was able to run for a half hour straight at 4.8. I have to be careful when buying “tight” clothes—if I don’t keep trying them on (which was a futile and hopelessly depressing gesture just a year ago), the next thing I know, the outfit has gone from being too tight to loosy-goosy without me ever having clipped the tags off the darn thing.

Ripping ourselves free of the elephant mindset is a daily, hourly, minutely struggle. Every time you think “I can’t,” shying away from some activity you’ve always perceived as beyond you, you must consciously activate a stronger, louder voice that says “I CAN!” And be sure to follow it up with, “And if I can’t now, I have to keep trying, because I know I’ll be able to do it soon!”

For me, the biggest challenge is continually push myself out of my comfort zone, especially with exercise and activity. “I can’t do real push-ups because my arms aren’t strong enough to hold my weight,” I think, because for the past fourteen years of my life, it was true. Guess what? I CAN do real push-ups now, because I AM strong and sleek enough to make it happen. To help keep this can-do attitude at the front of my mind, I’ve written myself a note on my bathroom mirror that says, “I AM SMART. I AM STRONG. I AM SEXY. I CAN DO IT!” I use it as a daily reminder to break free of my mental shackles—because I am no elephant, and I refuse to act like one any longer.

I challenge everyone to be watchful of their own elephant mindset and to challenge it. Loudly. Daily. And unceasingly. Why?

Because you CAN.

Has it really been two weeks?

Wow--I've not updated in a while, and I have a lot to catch this blog up on!

First, my dad is doing much better! They have to keep monitoring the levels of his blood to ensure his blood is just thin enough, which means he gets blood drawn a couple of times a week. He had a post-op appointment yesterday and was down 37 pounds!! He lost 19 pounds before surgery, so he's losing 6 pounds a week right now (he's three weeks out). I can't believe how good he's doing right now--it's awesome. He'll be to goal by MY birthday, I swear (and I STILL won't be, but that's ok! :P )

After about a month of hovering, the scale finally moved today, which is awesome. I've been doing strength training for a month or so now, and my clothes have definitely been fitting different, so I know that some of my non-weight loss is due to muscle gain and just general shifting around of things, which is good. I'm trying not to be OBSESSED by the numbers on the scale, but, but, butt. Ya know? It's hard, it what I'm saying.

When I look like this, then I'll shut up, ok? :)


I've hit a couple of pretty amazing workout milestones. First, on Saturday, I went run/walking for the first time OUTSIDE of the gym. I walked from my apartment to the zoo, ran ALL THE WAY THROUGH THE ZOO, and then walked home. I ran continuously for .75 of a mile, which is just AMAZING to me. In all, I went about 4.5 miles in 90 minutes.

Yesterday at the gym, I ran for an entire half hour on the treadmill--2.5 miles at 4.7/4.8 speed. I'm flabbergasted that I could do this, which also makes me wonder if I am pushing myself enough in the gym. I mean, last week I didn't think I could run more than a few minutes at a time on the treadmill (well, I was trying to run at a 5-5.5 pace, which is just too much), but if I could step it down just a few notches and run SIX TIMES as long, I bet I could actually run a little more than I give myself credit for.

I read somewhere recently that the first two minutes of aerobic exercise are the worst--you are working so hard and you feel like quitting. But, if you can get past those two minutes, your body sorta shifts in for the long haul and it actually gets easier. Since I've read that, I can't believe how true it is. When I was running through the zoo, I almost immediately wanted to stop and start walking again. I just kept pointing out buildings to myself a little further down the path and saying just get to that building, just get to that building...then I started measuring using song s on my ipod--just get through this song. By the time the first song had finished and the second one had started, I really felt like I would be able to run through the entire zoo and I did!! I just need to remind myself to PUSH a little harder than I think I can, and I'll usually be surprised at what I can actually do! And, as my brother told me a few weeks ago, "Pain is just weakness leaving the body."

In a surprise fit club upset, Lynn (my best friend) overtook Becca (my sister in law) by chalking up 34 workouts in a week (5 workouts a day for 7 days, with 1 miss). This is week 7 of the challenge, so there is no way for me to make up for the points I'm now behind (about 12+++ at last count), so I've "given up." Working out in 1/2 hour intervals was driving me crazy, and I've had a lot of fun the last few days getting into a "normal" workout routine--walking to work and then a hour+ of cardio/strength in the gym at night. My original goal when I started fit club was to energize me to fit more exercise into my busy schedule, and I have to say that was a smashing success! I exercise every day now, and look forward to doing it. I'm still in the money (3rd place, which is a measly $4.50, but better than paying, I guess!), so that's good too.

On Sunday, I went shopping and found the most fabulous dress ever. And it was 40% off! And it was a size 14! And it looks so amazing on me!!! Take a look!


I think that's all I have for right now!

The Darker Side of Surgery

Last Tuesday, my dad got WLS. (I know, what could be MORE apropos then WLS on FAT Tuesday???)

He and I had several discussions about surgery, but he made the decision to go for it on his own. I flew back to my hometown Monday night to be with him. I was more nervous about his surgery than mine. Although he's a "lightweight"--he was maybe 120 pounds overweight for his height, and his surgeon required him to lose 20 pounds pre-surgery, so he has 80-100 pounds left to lose to be at a "normal BMI"--he is older (not OLD, he's only 51, just older), he has a couple of co-morbs (sleep apnea and high blood pressure, with a history of heart disease and diabetes in the immediate family), so I just wanted everything to go ok.

We got to the hospital at 9am on Tuesday and waited through the pre-surgery process until about 11:30 when the anesthetist came in and started doing his thing. His surgeon, who has performed 1300 RNY's, told me he'd be about an hour and fifteen minutes in surgery then 1-2 in recovery (it's lap RNY).

At about 2pm, I started freaking out--it had been at LEAST two hours since he'd been wheeled into surgery--what was going on. I started tearing up in the waiting room, wondering what was going on, and KNOWING first hand what the statistics are for RNY (.5% of patients die during RNY, typically because of stomach leaks, blood clots, or as a result of co-morb risk factors--1 out of 200 patients isn't bad, especially when you consider that joint replacement surgery has a 2-3% fatality rate, but if your loved one is the unlucky "one", than the statistics to mean a damn thing). I talked to the waiting room volunteer, who called the nurse, who told me all was well.

About 15 minutes later, the surgeon came out and told me that he put my Dad in the top ten most difficult (anatomically speaking) surgeries he's had to perform (out of 1,300+). The reason? My dad had a twisted stomach, where the "back" of his stomach was really in the front. This made finding the right place to dissect the stomach difficult as well as correctly connecting the intestines (which were also out of place to accommodate the twisted stomach). The surgeon didn't think that this anatomical difference would affect the success of the surgery in terms of weight loss, it just made the surgical process more lengthy as they had to untangle his organs before they could do their thing.

Everything else went well in the hospital--he had good pain management, and he was discharged the following afternoon. We spent Wednesday and Thursday at home. Thursday night, he woke up with a sharp pain in his calf, which he walked off. When he woke up the following morning, the pain was still there, so he called the Dr. They were immediately concerned about a possible blood clot, so he and I drove into town to get him to the Imaging center for an ultrasound.

The ultrasound picked up a "partially occluded" blood clot in his popliteal vein (which runs from your calf behind your knee into your thigh). This sent us directly from the Imagining Center to the hospital, where he was admitted, put on immediate bed rest and given blood thinners. Blood thinners don't actually get rid of the existing clot, they just reduce the chances of more clots forming as well as help the existing clot adhere to the vein wall, allowing the bodies natural immune system to break up the clot on its own. (Typically, remember, clotting is a good thing--it's what stops a wound from bleeding continuously, so the body has a well formed cycle of clotting, healing, and breaking down the clot).

Now, if you are an astute reader, you'll recall my stats from a few paragraphs ago where I said .5% of RNY patients die from leaks, BLOOD CLOTS, and co-morb risks. It was (and is) so scary to have my Dad all of a sudden be in one of the three categories where fatalities happen. Looking at my Dad in the hospital bed and thinking about this clot traveling into his lung (which is a recipe for heart attack and stroke at a minimum, and death at it's worst), I was really mad at this surgery. Because is having a Dad who is 80 pounds lighter worth the risk to his life? NEVER. EVER. NEVER.

After I left the hospital that night, I went and saw the movie Eight Below (which I recommend) and spent about half the movie just sobbing. While it was a touching story, I'm pretty sure it wasn't the plight of the left-behind-sled dogs that had me so choked up.

On Saturday, we had a serious chat with one of the Doctors about putting in a vena cava filter--a metal mesh "umbrella" that is inserted into the femoral vein through a catheter threaded up from the groin whose purpose is to catch blood clots before they reach the lungs while allowing regular blood cells to pass by unimpeded. Many surgeons insert filters prior to surgery for those people with a higher risk for clotting (diabetes patients, for example). There are risks with the filter, including that the filter can irritate the vein and cause! clotting. The doctor told us that they would not normally put in a filter for someone who is already receiving treatment. The front line treatment for Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT) (which is the medical term for a clot in your leg) is blood thinners in the form of a fast acting thinner like heparin (which must be administered by IV in the hospital) or Lovomax(a self-administered subcutaneous (meaning under the skin) shot given twice a day) along with Coumadin (also known as warfarin). Coumadin is a pill form blood thinner that is given for 3-6 months after a blood clot is discovered, but it takes 3-5 days to build up in your system, so folks with a blood clot need the Heparin/Lovamax therapy until the Coumadin starts working (the doctors call this being at a "therapeutic" level). The big difference between the "normal" medical protocol for DVT and what they were suggesting for my Dad is obesity, which creates a higher risk factor for clotting and for fatal complications from DVT. In an effort to be overly cautious, they were considered putting in a filter on top of the medicinal therapy.

As a lawyer, I've learned to be an analytical, aggressive thinker and speaker and the discussion with the doctor on Saturday night was not unlike a cross-examination. At one point, the doctor stopped me and asked me what my medical experience was. At first, I thought he was trying to put me in my place (I'm the doctor with the education and training, why are you arguing with an expert kinda thing), but really it was because he was impressed with the amount of knowledge I had on the topics of RNY and DVT (it's amazing what one can learn given an internet connection and some decent research skills). Through other medical experiences, I've come to realize how important it is to be a militant patient advocate for the ones you love. Doctors do have training and experience, but they are NOT omnipotent. After going through law school, people like to assume that I can answer any legal question they can think up, but really lawyers have very little practical legal skills after law school--we just have a foundation in legal theory and good analytical thinking skills and a voracious appetite for research. Legal skill comes with practical experience solving the unique issues of clients, and usually lawyers only practice in a very small fraction of the law and could only give a cursory analysis of legal matters outside their expertise. I think Doctors are the same way--they specialize, so they know their area of medicine as well as can be expected for a continually changing science. But, they don't know everything about every part of the body, and I believe that NOTHING can substitute for a self-aware patient, who intuitively knows when something is "not right" in their body. One example of this--I've always had some difficulty with my iron levels--I usually test just at the lowest "normal" mark for iron, and have had some of the symptoms of anemia. Every time I start feeling really sluggish and light-headed for a period of a few days or more, I go into my doctor, who orders a blood test, which invariably comes back as "normal". "Normal" iron counts are a patient average, but I know that if I am the bottom end of the "normal" spectrum, I feel terrible. So, regardless of what "normal" is according to my doctor and medical protocol, I KNOW that I need to be up in the top end of normal for iron in order to eliminate anemic symptoms.

Ok, back to my Dad. After much discussion about the pros and cons of placing a filter, we decided to wait for the bariatric surgeon's opinion (the doctors treating my dad were from his primary care practice group, not the bariatric practice group). The surgeon was coming in Sunday morning for rounds. After the doctor left on Saturday, we got out my computer and did another few hours of research on blood clot therapies, obese risk factors, and statistics about DVT. At the end of the night (and after a few tears were shed by my stepmom), we (me, my dad, my stepmom) decided that the filter didn't seem like it was worth the risks.

I went home to sleep and drove back to the hospital, arriving at 7:50am in anticipation of 8am rounds by the surgeon. Before the surgeon arrived, I explained to my stepmom and Dad my small change of heart. I had thought about it overnight and thought how terrible would we feel if the worst DID happen and we hadn't agreed to the filter? It would be horrible to think there was something else we could have done to prevent a pulmonary embolism but we didn't do it. I suggested that before we gave the surgeon a decision, we ask him to give his opinion on the filter and ask more questions.

When the surgeon arrived, I think the three of us looked piranhas watching an unsuspecting tourist dip a toe into the river--we were rabidly ready for his opinion and had a gauntlet of questions for him to answer. The bariatric surgeon said that if my dad had presented to him on Friday morning (instead of the PCP doctors), he would have immediately recommended a filter, out of caution. He explained that the bariatric practice group didn't have an empirical data or medical studies, but in their experience operating on obese patients, blood clots are a cause of serious alarm and the more cautious they can be, the better. The surgeon had one patient die of a blood clot, and one experience serious complications (which can include loss of limb, heart attack, and stroke) from clots. He never wanted to lose another patient to blood clots, if possible, so he would have advocated the extra measure despite the risks (98% of filter insertions go well and are successful, but there are complication risks associated with placing the filter in a major vein, as well as risks of irritating the vein, which can cause clotting, leading to the very pulmonary embolism you are trying to prevent). However, after my Dad had been on 2.5 days of blood thinners, he felt the prophylactic benefit of the filter was outweighed by the risks of bleeding during the insertion--uncontrolled bleeding in a main vein/artery can cause a patient to lose 80%+ of their blood in a matter of minutes, which is pretty much fatal.

That additional bit of information really cemented the decision to reject inserting the filter. The surgeon thought my dad would have another day or two in the hospital on bed rest (bed rest is because they don't want the clot to travel, so they don't want the patient to be moving/walking/using the leg muscles, all of which could dislodge the clot). Although bed rest sucks, it's better than death, eh?

An hour or two later, the pharmacist came in and told Dad that he could switch off heparin (IV-administered) to lovomax (injection-administered), which would allow him to go home on Sunday (the same day), and do his day or two of bed rest from home.

He's now home and has an appointment at the lab today to check his blood levels (blood thinners are a finicky medicine and require pretty frequent monitoring to ensure that the blood is goldilocks--not too thin, not too "thick", but just thin enough).

After a couple of days on bed rest, they want him to start slowing being active. The weird catch-22 about blood clots is once you have them, they want you to stop all activity to avoided dislodging the clot and it becoming a pulmonary embolism (lung clot), but in order to avoid more clotting, you need to be active, so your blood circulates more and doesn't rest anywhere forming MORE clots.

Dad just wants to get back to what I'm calling "new normal." New normal includes still being on the liquid RNY diet for another week or so, 6 weeks of no lifting, and 6 months of blood thinners (which means being careful to not get cuts or bruises, which will not clot as well).

The doctors say it'll take up to a month for the clot to dissolve (but they don't normal re-ultrasound and check, which is just crazy to me--I'd want to check and see for sure!). Dad's definitely out of the woods for now, but I won't feel like he's really in the clear until we get past the next month with no more complications or issues.

This whole experience really hit home how serious this surgery is. Even when you feel like the risk is low and it is a risk you are willing to take, it's hard to remember that you are risking yourself on behalf of all of your family and friends as well. Your risk-taking can cause THEM loss--and believe me when I say that they would rather have you alive and fat then dead and potentially thin.

I still think this surgery is an excellent tool and I would do it again, if I had to choose, but I hope that everyone who is making the decision to have surgery is really soul-searching before making a decision. It should NEVER been seen as an "easy" way to lose weight, first because there are so many more risks to this surgery then diet and exercise alone, and second, because even with surgery, it isn't a walk in the park (just ask me, the girl who had chips for dinner last night!!)

14? L? OMG!

I've been away from my "home" scale for over a week now. I've weighed in on multiple scales the last week, and I've come to the conclusion that my scale is a little kinder, on average, than the scales in Michigan (maybe it's the cold that makes them less happy?). I've weighed in anywhere from 199-205 this week, and although I've had a stressful week and I certainly exercised less (once a day, rather than the 2-4 times a day I was getting for my fit club standing), I don't think I've gained 8 pounds in the last week.

Especially when you consider my recent shopping experience. I've done a little more clothing shopping while I've been home(which is a constrant struggle, because I am always trying to balance the clothes I'm falling out of with the clothes that are a little too snug yet, with the occasional outfit that fits "just right").

As an aside, let's talk rolls. I have figured out in the last nine months that I am definitely a pear-shaped gal. I have a big tummy, a big butt and large thighs, with a smaller upper body and shoulders and pretty proportionate calves and arms (the tricep area of my arms are definitely bat-wingy, but that's pretty much par for the weight loss course). I've always had two tummy rolls--one large hanging down stomach (right where an pannilectomy would be) and one roll that engulfs my belly button. (I'm tempted to post a picture to show you, but ew!)

I've been reluctant to talk about these rolls as "loose skin" because it isn't just skin, you know? There is some heft to both of these rolls, although the top one is almost gone! But, when I bend over, they both definitely hang down like loosy-goosy skin. This also makes looking for clothes hard b/c the clothes that fit also tend to show the bulkiness of these rolls--and I definitely do not want to be wearing bigger sizes (which are baggy elsewhere) just to accommodate some yucky skin. I guess this is where I become close personal friends with support undergarments, eh?

Anyway, so I had some amazing shopping breakthroughs this week. First, I went into BANANA REPUBLIC. You know, the store that only carries sizes up to size 14? Once I found out that Banana is notorious for "vanity" sizing (sizing their clothes 1-2 smaller than the fit, so that a size 6 skirt will fit a size 8 or 10 butt!), I thought I'd check it out. I ended up buying a 100% angora sweater on sale for $7! And, the best part, I walked out of Banana Republic with a purchase--a size "L" sweater!! I don't know if I have ever worn a piece of clothing in my adult life that doesn't have an "X" in it. Awesome, right?

I went to Meijer (and if you don't know Meijer of midwest fame, you haven't LIVED, people!) last night and tried on clothes for 45 minutes. I ended up with TWO size "L" shirts, 2 size 14!!! dress shirts and I almost purchased a size 14 bathing suit (I didn't because it isn't even swimming weather I keep hoping I'll lose more weight before I end up needing a suit).

I'm still in 16 or 18 pants, but I know that the large stomach, big butt, big thighs combo makes it difficult for me to go down in sizes in pants. I'll get there though.

Pretty awesome, right?