Put Up Or Shut Up

My wonderful surgeon has left his current practice and partner (who is an asshole) to begin a new practice. He asked for patients to write a testimonial if they would like, sharing honestly about their surgical experience, both pre- and post-operatively. I have chosen to do so, and I have added pictures. My choice in the title of this post was a personal challenge to Jennifer McKinney, who shills diet pills chocked full of DMAA and caffeine; she claims to have lost 75 lbs, but all her photos are (badly) photoshopped. I told her I’d put brand spanking new pictures of me on here taken with a camera phone….no editing, no tricks, no nothing. Here I am in all my glory, weighing approximately 242 lbs. I have gone from wearing size 26 jeans and a 3x shirt on the day of my surgery (11/6) to wearing a size 18/20 shirt and 18/20 denim leggings tonight.

 

My testimonial to my wonderful surgeon and my journey is here, and the photos will follow:

 

“Most of my life when someone would ask me to describe myself using one word it was this:  FAT. Not wife, not mother, daughter, sister, funny, smart, talented, or a menagerie of other words. My size was how I saw myself first and foremost, and it seemed quite logical that “fat” would be how others would sum me up as well.

What started out as an extra twenty pounds during my teenage years became an extra 150 pounds by the time I entered my early thirties. I married and divorced an abusive man, I suffered from severe depression and paralyzing anxiety, I worked ten years on the night at a job I loathed more than loved, I kept an odd sleeping schedule which left me too tired to exercise, I remarried (a wonderful man I’d known since high school), and I had carried to term and born two perfect, healthy boys. I became a stay-at-home-mother in mid-2010, and I continued to gain weight from depression and a couple of glasses of wine every night. I weighed myself on January 1, 2012 and found that my 5’5’’ frame was carrying 290 lbs. I wore size 26 pants and 3x shirts. I wore flip-flops year-round because bending over to put on my shoes was a hassle. My husband constantly told me he loved me and was attracted to me, but it went in one ear and out the other.

In early 2012 my good friend Deena was entered in a contest to win free bariatric surgery (a lap-band). She made it into the final four. I made a deal with her one night over dinner. I would vote for her, and I would get all of my family and friends to vote for her. If she won, I would get bariatric surgery too and we would go on this journey together. Deena won by a landslide, and I kept my word.

In keeping with the spirit of us going forth together, I made an appointment to meet Deena’s surgeon, Dr. Kurt Sprunger. I was amazed at how quickly the office staff fit me in—I expected a month wait at least, but I had an appointment to see him the very next week. I found his office staff to be quite helpful. Dr. Sprunger saw me on time, and introduced himself with a smile and big handshake. It seemed like he had all the time in the word to sit and chat with me. We talked about my eating habits, my depression, my anxiety, using food as comfort, emotional eating, health problems caused by obesity (which I had none….yet), and, most importantly, what did I want to achieve. When he asked me what I wanted to achieve I broke down in tears, and I remember this man looking me straight in the eye, handing me a Kleenex, and telling me, “Its ok. Tell me the truth.” The words tumbled out of my mouth so fast, interspersed with sobs, that I’m amazed he could understand me. “I want to be a better mother to my boys, I want to shop in regular stores, I want to feel sexy, I want to enjoy sex again, I want to look in the mirror and smile at myself, I don’t want people to automatically judge me by my size, I want to get excited about leaving the house, I want to be happy, I don’t want to isolate myself anymore, I don’t want to shop online anymore, I don’t want to be a diabetic, I don’t want to have a heart attack, I want to grow old with my family, I don’t want to drink to numb my feelings……” He smiled and said that all of those things could be mine with a healthier lifestyle, and bariatric surgery would be a great choice for me.

We discussed the various surgical procedures, and he stated that with the excess weight I wanted to lose (150 lbs) that the traditional Roux-En-Y gastric bypass would be the best choice. Woo-hoo! We had a plan. I was given a checklist of things required before surgery (part from Dr. Sprunger and part from the insurance company). We were looking at surgery in the autumn if all went well.

For months and months I jumped through hoop after hoop like a trained poodle. I met with a psychologist, a nutritionist, a cardiologist, a pulmonologist, had blood work, and visited my own doctor once a month for six months to check my weight. I attended a wonderful pre-op seminar given by Dr. Sprunger’s staff and was told exactly what to expect before and after surgery. I was told to start my liquid only pre-op diet one week prior to surgery. Most importantly, I had the date:  November 6, 2012.

I got up on the morning of October 30, 2012 (my oldest son’s 7th birthday!) and began my pre-op diet. I weighed myself, expecting to see a slight increase as I enjoyed some vices (carbs, fast food, and wine) in the previous weeks. I officially started my journey at 293.5 pounds. Seven days without food seemed so foreign to me; I had dieted and deprived myself umpteen times, but I had never, EVER dieted without food. My meals consisted of protein shakes, sugar-free Jell-O, chicken broth, beef broth, water, and decaf tea. The day before surgery all I could have was water and a bottle of magnesium citrate (a laxative).

The morning of surgery I was promptly checked in, weighed, gowned, had IVs started, paperwork signed, and met with both Dr. Sprunger and the anesthesiologist. The anesthesiologist gave me something IV to help me relax, and I have a vague recollection of being rolled into the OR and scooching onto the operating table. The next thing I remember was waking up, very sleepy, with a nice man offering me a spoonful of ice chips. I was in minimal pain. I was told that surgery was over, everything went fine, and that my husband could visit in a few minutes. It was all over.

After an unremarkable two day stay in the hospital I was discharged home. The pain was moderate, but the narcotics took care of it. After four days I was on Tylenol. It didn’t hurt to have a bowel movement or walk around. I was a challenge to drink all of the fluids and protein shakes daily, and I managed. I was rarely nauseated and didn’t vomit. One week after surgery I laced up my tennis shoes and took a brisk one-hour walk. I felt so alive!

My post-op journey has been terrific. Would I do it again? YES! Would I encourage you to do it? ABSOLUTELY! Do I feel satisfaction eating such small portions that seem like snacks to regular people? YES!! Dr. Sprunger has answered my questions/concerns, and I have followed his post-op rules. I know that I’ve only lost 52 pounds, but it feels like so much more than that. My husband says it feels like he is hugging a different woman. I wear a size 18/20 shirt and pants.  I can bend over and paint my own toenails. I can walk for hours, briskly, and not give out. And my self-esteem is through the roof. I wear make-up and take time with my hair now. I smile at people instead of stare at the ground. I play with my kids all the time. And my husband and I are right back where we need to be.

Thank you so much, Dr. Sprunger. None of this would have been possible without your skill, care, compassion, instructions, or desire to make the obese healthier.”

The morning of surgery at 293.5 lbs:

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And today, 50+ lbs lighter and more confident:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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And there you have it! One woman full of changes, a new attitude, a new set of dietary rules to abide by, and someone who is finally happy.

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Weekly Update 1/21-1/28

Hear ye! Hear ye! Let me make a few things clear. I am NOT Anja. I am not SWSHBN. No one has bribed me with paypal money, quinoa salad, or an RV. Since we were getting no response from the “mods” over at Headquarters I thought I would take it upon myself to re-instate the weekly recaps that many people miss. Contrary to what people think, alot alot of us are not on MWOP every fucking minute of every fucking day—–we have lives, kids, bills, jobs, etc. and appreciate the chance to just pop-in and catch up. That is what this is:  my weekly catch-up, [SNORT] style. It will post every Monday. You are more than welcome to leave comments, but I won’t stand for hateful, spiteful comments toward one another. We are all grown women (and Hevel) who can either discuss and choose to disagree or we can all shut the hell up. Clear?

You may want to keep an extra pair of panties or a bath towel nearby. There will be some snarky commentary along with the update.

MONDAY JANUARY 21, 2013

  • Princess Xyng will not be using her cell phone alarm to wake her for the holiday. She has five mini humanoid alarm clocks to do it for her. What holiday was she Facebooking about?   *black and white crickets chirping together about having a cricket dream not 5 feet from this bitch’s door*
  • MckMama was rather surprised to learn that she has boys because they have trouble keeping their underpants on. My boys both keep their underwear on. AAAAUGH!?!?!? Maybe I don’t have boys? Maybe I have spores?
  • Makes it a point to FB (perhaps in an attempt to cover her ass *LOL*) that she can’t find any underwear smaller than 4-T. The kids already wear big ass shoes that go on the wrong feet, so why not wear little shirts or something? Like put their legs through the sleeves, tie a knot around the tummy, and make a butt-flap?

TUESDAY JANUARY 22, 2013

  • Threatens residents of Des Moines, IA with a Friday night visit then vows to soldier on to Lincoln, NB by Monday evening. Husband and kids will be in tow, natch, so catch them for some deets and sprinkles.
  • A BABY ULTRASOUND!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MckMama makes a grandstanding ass of herself (and likely causes sheeple to reach for their angina medication or drop to their knees, weeping blessed tears) by s-l-o-w-l-y announcing that Hilary’s fourth child is a girl. Congrats Hilary  🙂  MckMama’s own uterus, however, is likely tightly clenched in revolt causing her husband a great deal of panic.

WEDNESDAY JANUARY, 23, 2013   =  Blissful Facebook silence. Peace like a river. Glittery rainbows everywhere.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 24, 2013

  • Makes a quip how she is sure the guys at the car wash love when she rolls up. Two things pop into my mind:  MckMama listens to Wiz Kalifa in the car and imagines herself a bad ass gangsta when she sings, “I roll up, I roll up, I roll up, shawty, I roll up.” Or she is sure the guys at the car wash love when she brings in her giant car because they love cleaning—hey, they do it for a living right? “Muthafucka, Tony! This bitch don’t tip after all the couscous and mismatched Boden shit we dig outta dis car!? ” I know man. No air freshener for her.”
  • My camera broke. It is so fucking hard to show you pictures now that I have NO camera and NO blog. You’ll just have to find me on Instagram where I use my camera phone constantly. *sigh* *first world problems*

FRIDAY, JANUARY 25, 2013

  • She’s in Des Moines with the brood to meet and get “health” with you. Trust me….if someone offers for you to get health, run the other way. Please.

SATURDAY JANUARY 26, 2013

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She has lost 102 lbs. on her 29-day challenge with Iz! She will be gifted with i-Pads, i-Tampons, an i-Car, the HOPE diamond, and a bevvy of other Xyng crap. Doesn’t she look wooooooooooon-der-ful?

I’m not going to comment on the medley of Instagram photos she posts (assorted “meals,” etc) but there is one fucking awful picture that stands out. It is a self-portrait type. All you can see is a hot pink nose, hot pink shirt, nasty computer, and what appears to be a large smudge of shit across her left forehead. Worst. Photo. EVER.

You Know What, You Dumb Shit?

If you lose something and search frantically for it, do not, I REPEAT DO NOT come up to me like a happy puppy and say “I found it! I was in the very last place I looked!”

Of course it was in the very last place you looked, asshole. You’re not going to keep looking after you find the fucking thing, are you?

Mr. Toxie Carroll

I got word this morning that the father of my old high school friend, Amanda, had unexpectedly died. His name was Toxie Carroll. He was a giant here on earth, who loved, preached, and was every inch a family man. He is survived by his wife, Annette, and their children Shawn (Alicia), Amanda (Chris), and Eric. He is survived by his grandchildren Dylan, Scarlett, Caringtyn, Aislynn, Kalista, and his adopted daughter, Heaven. RIP Mr. Toxie; we love you!

Holidays MockMama Style

Hey y’all! MockMama here to share all about the holiday festivities that me and the fam partook in.

First, let me tell you a few deets I’m sure you didn’t know. Most people think that Jesus is the reason for the season, but that isn’t accurate. It isn’t. While Jesus forgives me for all the shit I do, He isn’t the reason so many celebrate Christmas and Hanukkah. What is the reason? Love? Commercialism? Prime rib? NO. Christmas is a time when people get together to worship ME. Really. I’m not kidding. Every year my husband and brood of kids, Footlong and 6-inch, erect a 10-foot tree statue in my honor. Festooned with hundreds of tiny twinkling lights and ornaments to boot the tree, formally known as The Fuckingly Spectacular Annual Tribute To Her Holiness MockMama And Her Blessed Uterus, graces our living quarters as a living reminder that I am the most awesome, most coveted woman alive.

Since Footlong and 6-inch are 7 and 17 months respectively I decided that they were old enough to know the truth about Santa Claus. Cry they did until I demanded they suck it up and not shirk their duties in giving me presents. My husband told me that we didn’t have alot of money this year to spend on gifts because of our financial obligations. I about shit myself laughing when he said that. I told my husband, “Don’t use big words that you don’t understand! You had better get me something nice or else I will chuck it at your balding head.”

December 25th, henceforth known as MockMama Day, arrived and I excitedly woke the boys at 3:30 am and took them into the living room so they could present me with gifts. Footlong proudly presented me with a smartphone he had fashioned from a spool of thread, smoked Gouda cheese, a 9-V battery, 2 CDs, and a digital thermometer. That boy is so brilliant. I turned to the less brilliant baby and demanded my gift; he smiled and looked at me with confusion and wonderment to boot as he made baby sounds and tried to hug me. Are you kidding me, I yelped. You’re just going to give me love? I wanted a present. I had to fetch the wooden spatula and spank his bediapered ass.

At last I turned to my husband ready to receive my gift, a gift to end all gifts I was sure. He sheepishly smiled and presented me with a Hermes Birkin bag, and I knew then from the $20,000 price tag that he loved and feared me. Footlong began to joyfully cry, “Mama, what did you get us? Where are our presents?” I smiled and passed out their presents. I watched the look of pure wonderment on their faces as they unwrapped sweatshirts with the Acme RubberBand logo and a coupon for 50% off their shipment of rubber bands if they sign up for autoship and become a distributor.

Preparations to prepare our holiday feast were mine as I scooted about the kitchen in my yoga pants and a hot pink pup tent. The meal was fantastic. My charming family had Tofurkey with blueberry and black bean stuffing, a quinoa salad with tuna, blackeyed peas, lime juice, cilantro, and homemade Skippy peanut butter, baby carrots with cream cheese frosting, leftover scrambled eggs with kale salsa, kefir, and a hummus torte. As I sat and stuffed myself merrily with 3 McRibs, fries, and a 5-gallon bucket of M&Ms, I couldn’t help but think about how fucking wonderful I am for giving my family a holiday to remember. Afterwords we piled into our RV, located and pushed the GO button, and set out on an afternoon drive that would span 17 states in 4 days.

And how did you spend your holidays? Shoot me a message and tell me the deets and I’ll enter you for a drawing where you can win a personalized rubber band! These bands are something else. A Facebook friend of mine had Type 1 Diabetic Cancer, and she is now in remission! I have lost 200 lbs using these rubber bands. The bands have also cured eczema, erectile dysfunction (isn’t that right, my husband?), dry skin, migraines, depression, boredom, toxic megacolon, MRSA, homosexuality, and drug addiction. Order today and I’ll send you a personalized email with your name (limit 1 per household) and an autographed photo (just pay a processing fee). Talk soon!

 

 

 

This is a really shitty, grammatically incorrect work of fiction. Footlong and 6-inch still believe in Santa Claus. J got me a $25 pair of headphones for Christmas because I hate wearing ear buds. We own a Nissan Maxima, not a RV. And the meal…..do you think I’d “cook” that shit for anyone, much less my own family? No, no I wouldn’t. J doesn’t have ED.

Happy [SNORT] Year!

Hello all! I dropped off the radar for a couple of weeks because both Footlong and J had a two week break for the holiday season. I decided it was more important to spend lots and lots of time with them instead of lots and lots of time blogging, internet surfing, and giving out deets. A novel concept for some, but hey, that’s how I roll.

 

I appreciate all of the FB messages and emails wishing me a Merry Christmas, wanting to know about my weight loss, requesting to hear how MockMama spent her holidays (and her holiday recipes—LOL), and when I’d post photos of my new shoes. I will get to all of these requests and more in the next few days, but I thought I would start tonight with a general update and (long overdue) photos.

 

Christmas was lovely! Footlong and 6-inch were in bed by 9:00 pm on Christmas Eve which allowed plenty of time for gift wrapping (me) and toy assembly (J). I wrapped 14 gifts and stuffed two stockings; J assembled 6-inch’s toddler playground, toy ride-on train and tracks, and a tabletop basketball game for Footlong. I stuffed six plush Angry Birds Star Wars figures in various places on the Christmas tree, and J ate cookies and drank milk. Footlong also left a carrot outside for the reindeer, and I had the pleasure of breaking in half and gnawing on one end to make it look like the reindeer chowed down. We went to bed around 2:00 am, and 6-inch decided to give us our wake-up call at 5:45 am. While J got him up and changed his diaper (6-inch’s….not his own) I woke Footlong. We all met in the living room, and Footlong was so happy to see that Santa ate his treat and the reindeer ate theirs. He tore right into his gifts, but poor 6-inch didn’t know what on earth to make of things:  paper was flying, Footlong was talking loudly and excitedly, and the camera was clicking away. I tried to get him to unwrap some gifts, but he wouldn’t sit still. He kept toddling around looking at anything and everything. After presents I cooked a big Christmas breakfast:  pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, and low-fat turkey sausage. FYI, I ate a scrambled egg with a slice of reduced-fat cheese and one link of turkey sausage. Late that afternoon I got to work on our Christmas dinner:  prime rib (done in the rotisserie), roasted baby blue potatoes, sauteed zucchini, indian flatbread, and salad. I manged to eat 2-3 ounces of the meat, some zucchini, and three tiny potatoes.

 

And how are my weight loss and recovery going? They are both going well. This morning I weighed 254.0 lbs for a total weight loss of 39.5 lbs; for those of you that need refreshing, I started my diet on 10/30 at 293.5 lbs and had surgery on 11/6 at 287 lbs. I have been able to eat a little bit more and no longer have to drink those nasty ass protein shakes; as long as I am careful with my diet I am able to get at least 50 grams of protein from the foods I eat. The things that I tolerate best are scrambled eggs, lowfat cheeses, nonfat Greek yogurt, edamamme, lima beans, refried beans with salsa, and lean (but not dry) meats like deli meats (smoked turkey, smoked ham, and roast beef), fish, crab, scallops, and chicken. I try and eat red meat several times a week because I am anemic and need the iron, but I have discovered that ground beef and I don’t get along very well. I am able to eat fruits and cooked veggies now, and they have helped with my constipation. I have to eat protein first, so I’m only able to eat fruits and veggies sparingly. I ate a blood orange the other day and was in pure heaven. I have also started eating miniscule amounts of high-protein, high-fiber pasta. I have steered clear of sweets (cookies, cakes, ice cream, candy bars) and have not touched a drop of soda or coffee. I drink nothing but water, Crystal Light, and iced tea sweetened with Splenda. I walk several nights a week for an hour or so, and we just joined the YMCA since I got the ok to finally do more strenuous exercise than walking. I still have to eat slowly, and if I eat too fast or don’t chew my food very well (especially if it is a tough or dry piece of meat) I will barf.

 

The morning of surgery I was in a pair of size 26 jeans and a 3x t-shirt; I was going to put on the same outfit tonight so you all could see the difference, but the damn pants wouldn’t stay up! My size 24 jeans are soooooo loose that I am able to pull them up and down without unbuttoning or unzipping them; I have two pair of size 22 jeans that I can get into but are still a smidge on the tight side. I can see my weight loss most in my stomach and face; J says that my boobs and butt are smaller as well. He hugged me last weekend and said it was like hugging a different woman. That made me smile, and then it made me wonder who in the fuck he was hugging on the side. LOL  These photos are from tonight; J took them with my Blackberry (just like on the morning of surgery). Please excuse the mess in the house. I would rather spend time with my kids than have an uber clean house.

 

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The morning of surgery

 

 

 

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And 8.5 weeks after surgery!

 

 

 

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The morning of surgery

 

 

 

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And 8.5 weeks after surgery!

 

 

 

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Cheesy self-portrait on New Year’s Eve

 

 

And that, folks, is essentially it. MockMama will blog next and share her holiday tall-tales and recipes. Have a good night  🙂