Old Beginnings and New Endings

The post below was my very first Breaking Up With Burgers post, written on December 10, 2008. My how things haven't changed...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I will go in this way, and find my own way out..."


Here I am. 26 years old, married for 52 whole days, 260.6 pounds (really?! When did that happen?!), newly-diagnosed Type 2 diabetic, gallbladderless, and scared shitless that I'm not going to get to spend the 60 years that was mutually agreed on with my husband.


I have been told that if I want to start a family, I have no choice but to lose weight, get my diabetes under control, and (oh, that dreaded word...) change. Not an easy change, you know, like changing the sheets on the bed, although I could stand to be better at that, too. No. Life-altering, get-off-your-lazy-ass-'cuz-that's-how-you-got-this-way, hardest-work-you'll-ever-do kind of change.


Shit.


I suck at that.


(Obviously, since I'm 26 and have never stepped on a scale to see a smaller weight than the year before. NEVER.)


There are about a gazillion different reasons and/or excuses I could tell you as to why I find myself in this place. My parents had a nasty divorce when I was younger, and food was comfort. I didn't have money or parental support to get into sports as a kid. There is a history of obesity in my family. My gallbladder was removed and I don't process fat as well. Whatever you want to hear, I've got it for you. What it boils down to, though, is this:


1. I am in a love affair with bad food. Greasy, cheesy, fried, barbecue-sauced goodness. Ugh, I'm drooling like Pavlov's dog just thinking about it. It is my companion when everything else sucks. How do you let go of something that makes you happy because you know it's bad for you?


2. I am lazy. Jack (my "almost too handsome in a 'What in the hell are you doing with me?' sort of way" husband) and I come home from work - where I sit on my ass, mind you, and he stands on his feet all day - eat, and crash. I love my Dancing With the Stars, Private Practice, Boston Legal, Amazing Race, Two and a Half Men, etc. Reality junkie? Right here. I guess I'd rather be a voyeur into someone else's reality than deal with my own. Okay, you psychiatrists out there: have your field day. We have lot's to talk about.


3. I am scared. All I've ever done with weight loss is fail. Hell, let's broaden our view, shall we? All I've ever done with life is fail. I graduated from high school, went to work, made a decent attempt at a communication degree, and then f*ed that up. I'm horrible with money. I slack at my job. I feel entitled to the 'creature comforts' of life that we really can't afford. In general: I don't have it all together. I don't have anything together, and I'm absolutely petrified that I will never be able to change my ways. That's a lot of stuff to do, man, and I already told you: I'm lazy! I'm scared to tell people that I have goals because I don't want to deal with the consequences of not meeting them. It's so much easier to beat myself up for not doing something, than to see the disapproval of my friends and family when they realize that I've not accomplished yet another goal. I'm the fucking Chicken Little of weight loss.


I love my husband, my friends, and my family. I want a dog, a house, and a nicer car. But I also want to be able to enjoy those things. I want to sit on my husband's lap. I want to do more than just go out to eat with my amazing friends. I want to impress my family. I want to give a dog the home and exercise he deserves. I want the energy to do things around the house. And I want to be able to bend over while sitting in that nicer car, and be able to grab something off the floor.

While we're on the subject, let's talk about some other random things that I want to be able to do: Sit comfortably in an airplane. Buy cute clothes. Wear a swimsuit. Use regularly sized towels in the shower. See my belly button (it's been hidden for years!). Feel sexy, even though my husband swears I am. Have something better to go on than just my 'big boobs'. Sleep better at night. And the list goes on and on.


So here's the thing: I have to do it. It took 26 years, but my body is finally giving me the choice: (wo)man up, or die miserably. If morbid obesity, gallstones, and diabetes don't tell me something, then I don't know what will. So here, in this crazy big world, I'm sending it out there. Hold me accountable. I dare you.


My goal is to weigh under 200 pounds by my first anniversary: October 18th, 2009.


61 pounds. 213,500 calories burned, that's all. Piece of cake...


Shit. Okay, so I've got a long way to go.


But my new life starts now.

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It breaks my heart to read this now - two and a half years later.  I still have diabetes. I'm still (if not even MORE so) morbidly obese. I weigh more now than I did when I wrote the original post. I'm still lazy. I'm still horrible at getting/keeping "it" all together. I didn't even take the risk of having a high risk pregnancy seriously enough to change my ways.

I am exceptionally successful at failure.

It's times like these when an introspective person, such as myself, might read these words and wonder why she even bothers writing again. Why bother trying again? Why bother risking the possibility that I'll start things up and fail miserably? Again. Why set myself up to fail? AGAIN.

Why? Because struggling with weight isn't a one and done sort of thing. I am willing to bet my right arm (which I really like, by the way,) that there isn't one person in the world who has struggled with a weight issue once and only once in his or her life. It's not the nature of the beast for it to work that way. Being healthy is a continual journey, one that you aren't even finished with after you've fought the battle of the bulge and the war on weight.  When I do succeed, I'm still going to have to think about it and fight tooth and tummy every day.

So, yes, I have failed. Yes, I didn't do what I said I was going to do. Yes, there's the chance that this time will be no different. But.

But, but, but.

There's a wee  bit of me, a tiny little sliver, that just once wants to fail at failing. And as long as that spark is still there, the journey isn't over.

There's still a chance for this old, warn out beginning to have a new and different ending.

Break up buddies

I'll be honest. (As usual).

I have been considering weight loss surgery. Specifically, The Lap Band. And again, to be honest, if I had the $14, 000 I would do it tomorrow. However, this post isn't really about that. Through researching the Lap Band, I stumbled across some a-frickin-mazing bloggers, and I thought I'd give 'em a little shout out.

If you're interested in learning about WLS, or you're just looking for some fun, fresh new blogs to read, check out the following peeps:

Catherine at Chronicles from Band Land.

Breanne at Lady Lap Band.

Lap Band Gal at Lap Band Gal!.

And one of my personal favorites, Amy at Once Upon A Time in the Land of Cheese and Sunkist.

Of course, I always have my favorite fitness bloggers to enjoy, too!

If you don't know Jack Sh*t, then you don't know... well, jack sh*t!

And a personal friend of mine who is (literally) kicking ass and taking names: Nicole at Future Healthy Girl.

So take a few minutes, head over into their little worlds and see what kinds of fun they've got going on!

Fresh and Fu-ull of Life!

The old bloggety blog here is going to get a design update soon! And not the rinky-dink job I did using blogger's design tool, either.

Nothing but the best for you guys. Nothing but the best.

A big shout out to my pal Tricia over at Tricia Nae Designs who is going to take on the task! Go visit her and get yourself a fancy-schmancy new blog 'do. (But let her get to mine first, she's a busy lady. lol) 

I'm sure it will be a while before Mr. Blog here gets his new digs, but I'm super excited that it's in the works.

Have a great Friday, lovelies!

Henry Ford is my homeboy.

I can change a flat tire.

I can speak a little french.

I can name all 50 states in alphabetical order. (In 30 seconds or less).

I can cook a mean chicken casserole.

I can drive a stick shift.

I can sing at least the chorus of almost any song on any station on the radio.

I bet you're thinking, "Is there anything this woman can't do?"

I can't look at my son without thinking "My God, I'm lucky."

I can't not smile during Progressive Auto Insurance commercials. (I love Flo.)

I can't believe I weigh 271 pounds right now.

I can't find the time to do anything about it.

I can't imagine it getting better any time soon.

But you wanna know the one thing that I'll absolutely NEVER be able to do, no matter how hard I try?

I can't give up.

"Whether you think you can, or think you can't, you're right." ~ Henry Ford

Where have you been all my life?

So, the obvious song choice for the title of this blog should have been "It's Been A While" by Staind. Have I ever been one to do the obvious? Nah, it takes the fun out of life.

In the past six months, my life has changed dramatically. And mostly, for the better. I thought I'd creep my toes back into the shallow end of the blogging pool by telling you all about my favorite part of the last six months.

Gaining 18 pounds.

Just kidding, sort of.

I have gained almost 20 pounds since Logan was born, but that's a post for a different day. The 18 pounds I'm talking about is a giggly, bouncy, poo-filled bundle of joy.

Here's the story of Logan (or Bubbers, Bubberoo, Bubby, Bubber Man, etc.):

Grab your popcorn and make yourself comfy, because it's a long read.

Logan was born on Thursday, December 23, 2010. I had been put on bed rest starting November 18th because of extreme swelling and elevated blood pressures. The doctors were concerned about the possibility of me developing pre-eclampsia.
Everything was going fine until a doctor’s appointment on November 24th. They checked my blood pressure and it was extremely elevated, so they sent me to triage and ultimately admitted me for 24-hour observation. When my proteins and blood work came back perfectly normal, they sent me home with a prescription for blood pressure medicine and an order to do 24-hour urine tests and pre-eclampsia blood work every week until delivery.

Two weeks later, at another regular check-up, my blood pressure was still elevated after being on a double dose of the blood pressure medicine, so they sent me to triage and admitted me again. I was in for 72 hours at that point, with no plan to deliver the baby even though I had made it to 37 weeks. One of my doctors said that we would do an amniocentesis the following Wednesday (December 15th) and if Logan’s lungs were mature, they would induce me the following morning at 3am.

I went in for the amnio, which had to be done twice, and the end result was that Logan’s lungs were not developed enough to deliver early. I was given the choice to do another amnio in a week (December 22nd) to check again and then be induced the following day, or to wait until we had reached 39 weeks and deliver on December 28th or 29th without another amnio. The Hubs and I decided to go ahead and do the second amnio to try to have Logan delivered before Christmas.

On December 22nd, The Hubs and I went in for the follow-up amnio, which was to be done by my primary doctor who was finally back in the country after being out of the country for most of my pregnancy. Luckily, she was going to be in charge of my care from that point forward, since I couldn't stand the other doctors that had taken her place. She came in to do the amnio, but ordered another growth ultrasound first, saying that if he was “too big”, they would recommend a c-section be done soon. We did the growth ultrasound and Logan was estimated to be at 9 pounds 3 ounces, so she very strongly recommended we do a c-section at 39 weeks without going through another amnio that day. The Hubs and I were heart broken at the thought of having to do a c-section and not being able to have Logan the “regular” way, but we decided that it was what was best for Logan’s and my health. We were scheduled to come in at 9am on Sunday, December 26th for the c-section. Once we had the time and date, we called all the grandparents and gave them the information so that they could plan to be there for the birth.

Later on that same day, I had to go back to the office for a regular check-up. The Hubs and I were thinking that we already had the c-section planned for that Sunday, so we didn’t bother packing up all the things that we would need for the hospital stay. At the appointment, my blood pressure sky-rocketed to 196/110 and the doctor made the decision to send me to triage and then admit me, saying that Logan would be born either that night or the following morning, since my blood pressure was not responding to the two medications they had me on.

Once in triage, they took blood and a urine sample to be tested. If the lab work came back badly, we would be doing an emergency c-section that night. If the lab work came back fine, we’d be doing the c-section at 8 am the next morning (December 23rd). The Hubs and I were so relieved to know that there was a real end in sight! He left the hospital to go home and pick up all of our stuff while I waited in triage for my lab results.

My results came back fine (as they always did, proving that I just suffered from Pregnancy Induced Hypertension and not Pre-eclampsia) so the plan was made for us to be admitted to the hospital and have my c-section at 8 am Thursday, December 23rd. The Hubs made it back to the hospital (an hour and a half round trip) and I was admitted to a Labor and Delivery suite to wait out the night and call the grandparents with the new plan. They put in my IV and hooked me up to fluids that night, and our amazing nurse, Sarah, made the night so much less stressful than I thought it would be.

Close to 8 am the following morning, they took me to the operating room to start my epidural. The anesthesiologist was amazing, and only had to try once to place it. The epidural procedure itself was very strange, and it felt like Velcro being ripped apart in my spine, but didn’t hurt. Shortly after, my legs started going numb and tingly, and felt like they were placed in buckets of ice water from the inside out. They laid me down on the table and placed the curtain up in front of my face so that I couldn’t see anything. After a few minutes, they started talking about beginning the surgery so I asked for The Hubs. He came in shortly after and sat by my head.

I couldn’t feel anything the whole time, not even any tugging or pulling. The only thing that ever scared me was at the beginning of the process. I started feeling the epidural in my chest and couldn’t tell if I was breathing or not. I had to tell myself to breathe in and out so that I knew I was still breathing. I told the anesthesiologist and she did something that fixed the problem.

The Hubs took video and still pictures throughout the whole surgery, and the anesthesiologist told him that she would tell him when they were about to pull Logan out so he could get pictures. Once they pulled Logan out of me, he got pictures and video, and we both cried. Logan was born at 8:40 am, weighed 10 pounds even, and was 21 inches long. The Hubs followed Logan over to the warmer where there was a team of doctors on hand to make sure that he was healthy. They had to remove some fluid from his lungs, and he scored 6 and 9 on his one and five minute APGARS.

Minutes after birth.

10 pound Christmas Turkey

It seemed like it took forever for them to finish stitching me up, but it didn’t matter to me because Logan was out safely. Once they were finished with me, they moved the three of us to a recovery room for a couple of hours. The BFF was the first person other than us to hold Logan, and then shortly after, some of the grandparents got to see him.

Mama and Bubbers

Logan spent the vast majority of his first Christmas Eve sleeping because he had had his circumcision, Hepatitis B Vaccine, and PKU test all done that day. It was a rough Christmas Eve for him. We promised him that Santa would bring him a day where he didn’t get pulled out of a uterus, stuck with a needle, or operated on for Christmas.

Christmas Eve Grinch

The Hubs started our Christmas tradition of reading ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas on Christmas Eve, and we went to bed. On Christmas Day, they let us go home (24 hours early), and like crazy people, we drove an hour and a half north to visit The Hubs' family and then 2 hours back south to visit my family for Christmas. With a two-day old. And did I mention that I had no pain medication because no pharmacies were open on Christmas Day? Yeah, it was fun.

Ready to head home!

But it has been totally worth it all. The hard pregnancy, the hospital stays, the c-section, every bit of it. Having Logan has been the most challenging, but most fun experience I've ever had, and I wouldn't change it for the world.

Now, if you read that whole thing, give yourself a pat on the back from Bubber Man.

Oy!

I miss you guys! I'll be back soon, I promise!

For now, how about a picture of the fam? (Logan was 3 months old in this picture, he's almost 6 months old now).

Christmas Presents...

He's here...

Logan Jeffrey was born (via c-section, long story) at 8:40am on Thursday, December 23, 2010. He weighed 10 pounds even and was 21 inches long.

We're completely smitten, of course.

Still pregnant...

But hopefully not for long!

Compare and Contrast

The Bump at 24w2d, and again today, at 28w4d:

Wowza.

Well, hello there!

Logan and I say "hi"!

25 Week Bump



Turtle!

It's a boy!!! We found out today that Logan Jeffrey will be joining our family this winter. He's doing great, and is right on target for size, so no worries about a big diabetic baby yet!

Good news! Yay!

With the quickness...

Just updating to let you all know that I'm alive. You can breathe your heavy sigh of relief now.

Life is swimming along. The Hubs graduated on Friday night. The baby is growing like a weed. Life is generally hectic.

Oh, and I got to go Curling at the Utah Olympic Oval. Seriously. It was the most fun I think I've ever had. I'll post pictures eventually, scouts honor.

And that's all, folks! :)

Summer List

Knowing that I'm going to have a baby next summer, I really want to enjoy this summer to the fullest. So here's my Summer Fun To Do List. Let's see how well I do...

• Attend at least 3 Cincinnati Reds games
• Attend at least 1 Dayton Dragons game
• Attend at least 2 Kilkare Races
• Go canoeing at least once
• Go to the Cincinnati Zoo at least 4 times (not including Festival of Lights in the winter)
• See at least 3 movies

What's on your Summer Fun To Do list? Anything I should add?

Little B's first picture...

Everything looks good so far - all my tests have come back with good results. Little B is a week younger than we previously thought, which changes my due date to 01/01/2011.

Yo

I'm alive and 8 weeks pregnant today. Nothing new.

Peace out.

Word to your mother.

Etc.

Busy bee...

Life and work are both crazy busy this week. What with trying (in vain, might I add) to get used to this whole pregnancy thing and what havoc it's reeking on my body, to trying to get used to sticking a needle in my stomach 3 times a day, to trying to keep my husband from finding the nearest ledge to jump off of, to trying to stick to 60 carbs at dinner time. (Side tangent, do you know what 60 carbs will get you at The Olive Garden? Two breadsticks. Seriously. How ridonkulous is that?!)

At any rate, yeah, it's busy.

(The Hubs is fine, just overwhelmed with school, work, and now a pregnant wife to add into the mix. Poor Hubs...)

Work-wise, I'm scrambling to put together a training presentation for a group of co-workers that I'll be training next week. They are going down to Gatlinburg, TN for their annual retreat and I get to tag along for a couple of days and teach them some stuff that they will have forgotten by the time the drinks and dinner start flowing. One of the major plusses, however, is that it just so happens to be MFN's department's retreat, so I'll get to spend some time hanging with her and a lot of the other awesome people in the group.

Semi-sadly, the retreat has a slight reputation for being a fun-filled booze fest, and Preggy McPregerton here can't partake in any of that, now can she? But that also means less chance of me embarrasing myself infront of 40 co-workers, and more chances of having ammo to hold over other peoples' heads.

Would I do that? Of  course I would. And they would all do the same to me.

The point here is that:

1) life is busy
2) The Hubs is overwhelmed
3) I get to go to Gatlinburg.
4) I can't drink booze.

Love, my lovelies. :)

Fuck off, diabetes.

I now feel "officially" like a high-risk pregnancy. They've decided to put me on insulin, in addition to the Metformin I already take.

3 insulin shots a day, 2 different types of insulin, 1 very freaked out momma-to-be.

It's gonna be a very long 34 more weeks.

No 5k's for me this year...

I'm pregnant! (Oopsie! lol)

We weren't going to start trying until June, but apparently you can't trust Ovulation Predictor Kits. Oh well, I'm totally thrilled and scared to death, and The Hubs is...well...adjusting.

We're due on Christmas Day!

PS - If you're my friend on Facebook, please don't mention anything until after I do - a lot of family and friends are on FB that won't know until after Mother's Day! Thanks!

The time has finally come!

Remember this?

Well, look at it now...

MFN's Hubby is in the United States after a year in Iraq. He actually comes home home on a plane tonight. I am so excited that she gets to have her husband back, and so grateful for his sacrifice!

Like money in the (virtual) pocket...

So, I'm generally not lucky. At all.

But a couple of weeks ago, that changed just a little bit, yay me! I got an email saying that I had been randomly chosen as a winner because I had signed up to be on the Consumer Panel for Kroger. Woot!

What did I win, you ask?

$100, deposited to my very own Paypal account.

Now, here's where I need your help, dear friends. What, oh what, should I spend my not-so-hard-earned money on? Help!

Do you see what I see?

Sweat makes you beautiful. End of story.

Just for today...(UPDATE)

I will eat all meals in-house. check - that was hard, considering the cash in my pocket just begging to be spent at a fast food restaurant.

I will eat healthier meals. mostly check. some processed foods, but counted calories and had more servings of fruits and veggies in one day than I usually get in a week, or month, sometimes.

I will cut down on snacks. mostly check. still had cashews and jelly beans (my current snacks of choice) but instead of eating directly out of the container, I poured out servings of each and didn't return for more.

I will move my ass. check - the weather was great, so after dinner, I went out for a brisk walk around our neighborhood. Did 3 loops, about 45 minutes worth, and I'm guessing 2.5-3 miles.

Just today. I'll give myself a B+.

Just for today...

I will eat all meals in-house.

I will eat healthier meals. 

I will cut down on snacks.

I will move my ass.

Just today.

Found it!

Remember back when I started this blog? Remember when I was gung ho about losing weight? Remember when I actually lost some of it?!

Found it!

Whether it is because of that evil Actos causing my extreme hunger, the fatigue that comes with being fat and/or lazy, or something completely different, who knows? All I know is that I now weigh 263.0 pounds. Which means that since my doctor's visit on 3/1, I have gained more than 10 pounds. In a little over a month.

Ten Pounds.

In a month.

Yep. It deserves to be bolded and italicized. It's beyond ridiculous. While part of me knows that at least some of the weight gain is caused by the medication and therefore (slightly) beyond my control, the rest of me knows that I still make the choice to shove the food in my mouth. I still chose to sit on my ass. So, therefore, I have no one to blame but myself.

However, (da dada daaaaaaaaaaaaaaa) The Eternal Optimist strikes again! I have a few things going in my favor as of late.

1) I am seriously out of time to lose weight before we try to get pregnant, which means NO. MORE. PROCRASTINATING!

2) I am self-medicating. Or, rather, self-un-medicating as the case may be, and declaring war on Actos. (Conspiracy theory rant coming, be warned...)

Here's my thought on the subject: Actos is a drug that helps to control your diabetes by making your cells less insulin resistant. However, one of the widespread side effects of actos is extreme hunger and weight gain. (See above.) Therefore, my hypothesis is that the drug is only produced as a money-making machine (hello, $140/month!) that helps to control the symptoms, but perpetuates the disease. The more weight you gain, the longer - and worse - your diabetes will be, thus needing the prescription for longer/higher doses.

It is not a long-term solution to my diabetes problem, and I see it as a waste of money. With my current insurance plan (if you can call it that), I pay out of pocket for the first $6000 of my health care/prescriptions per year. $6000. Straight from my paycheck to the doctor/pharmacy/pharmaceutical company. I'm not going to pay $140 a month for a prescription that, in effect, forces me to become addicted to it.

So, yeah, suffice it to say that I'm not taking the Actos anymore. End rant.

3) My company started The Biggest Loser competition again! This year, it's in teams, which I find to be a nice method of accountability. Who wants to be known for dragging down their co-workers? Not I, said the fly.

I paid my $25 (more accountability!), and weighed in Friday during our company health screening. (Which, btw, I was forced to do if I didn't want to spend $600 more on my health insurance premiums, but that's another story). My health screening didn't tell me anything I didn't already know: OBESE! DIABETIC! SLIGHTLY PRE-HYPERTENSIVE, BUT REALLY GREAT CHOLESTEROL! At least it didn't get any worse, but it didn't get any better, fo' sho'. Ugh.

Anyway, this morning, I found out who my teammates are - an older (incredibly lovely) lady and a bodybuilder. No shit. This guy who started building muscle last year and just never stopped. And I ask you, why is he doing TBL? Why is he on my team? But, hey, maybe he's exactly what I need. We shall see.

4) My full-circle 5k is coming up! June 6th, I'll run the 5k that started it all - the very first 5k I ever "ran". I completed it in 47:37 last year, and I haven't yet decided what my goal should be this year. Should I make a time goal, or a distance running goal? Either way, I know that I want to finish faster and run more than I did last year. 
__________

And, I guess that's all for now. A rare weight-related post on my weight loss blog, imagine that! Hopefully I'll have more good stuff to report in the future. Stick with me, k? :-)

A bad idea.

I'm angry, and I shouldn't post when I'm angry. But I am, so there.

I love living in the USA. There are only a small handful of other countries in this world that I would even consider moving to. I appreciate the freedoms that I have. I appreciate the fact that I can (theoretically) be whatever I want to be when I grow up. I appreciate the fact that I am a woman with the right to vote. Other women before me fought long and hard for that, and I love them for it.

This is not to say that this country does not have issues. We've got a TON of issues. I get that too. Some of those issues are caused or made worse by people not in my political party, and some of them are caused or made worse by my own "people". Some things are caused or made worse just because in a country of 300,000,000, you're bound to have some crazies in the bunch.

I voted for Barack Obama. I stand behind that vote. Say or think what you will, but I'm absolutely, 100%, no-doubt-about-it proud of that and have no qualms about whether or not I did the right thing for myself and the country as a whole.

Having said that, I have to admit that I did not foresee that hiring him into this position would cause such scary division and pure, unadulterated hatred and just plain meanness in our country.

I identify with the "liberal" side of the spectrum, but that does not mean that you can fit me into every little peg on the "Liberal" board. I don't see why you need to try to, either.

Why does everything that Obama does have to mean the end of the world as we know it? Why can't people just take a step back and look objectively at things? Why is everyone so up-in-arms about every little thing? We aren't becoming a Socialist country. We will not be Communists. And far be it for someone to finally step in and try to give our own country the kind of healthcare that we spend so much money and effort trying to provide for third world countries.

All this completely random post is trying to say is: can't we all just get along? I'm sick of it.

Not as bad as it looks...

Fair warning: (1) I'm under the influence of Percoset, so this might not make sense, and (2) this is a boring post about my wisdom teeth removal. If you don't care, feel free to bypass this lovely post. But come back later, I might have something more interesting to talk about!

So, this was me after 2 hours at the doctor's office. It looks bad, but this whole wisdom teeth thing has been NOTHING near as bad as I thought it was going to be.

The Hubs and I got to the office about 10 minutes before my appointment time. It was nice that we didn't have to fill out any paperwork today since I had filled everything out on the day of my consultation. So we just waited. And the more I waited, the more nervous I got. Luckily, I only had to wait about 10 minutes before they called me back.

Let me say this: the people in that office were the NICEST people I have ever delt with at a doctor's office. And not just pretending to be nice or humoring the patient. They were genuinely kind and nice and it made my whole experience that much better.

Anyway, they took me back into one of the rooms (which were very colorful, btw, one wall was green, another light blue, etc. It was very calming for some reason) and the ladies wasted absolutely no time hooking me up to stuff. Blood pressure cuff, heart monitors on 3 spots, IV, and pulse ox monitor on my finger.

And then I waited.

The ladies made a big effort to talk to me and keep me occupied while the doctor was finishing up with his other patient (apparently a 7 year old little boy who was a trooper), and we talked about Nancy Grace (ugh), the fact that it was supposed to snow that night (ugh), and those little seed pod things that fall from the trees here in early summer. I don't know what the technical name is, but we call them helicopters. (editors note: The Hubs says they're maple seeds, so thereyougo.) Strange topics of conversation, but it kept me from thinking about the fact that I was making several things beep and I had an IV in my arm, and that they were about to put me to sleep and tear up my mouth.

I had finally had enough of the chit chat and was starting to get a little stir crazy when the doc showed up. I couldn't help myself and said "finally!" when he walked through the door and everyone laughed. He came over and started chatting with me about how I was feeling, all the while, covertly pushing lovely little meds into my IV. The last thing I remember, one of the nurses put the little piggy-snout oxygen thing over my nose, and I remember briefly thinking that the seal wasn't very good on the bottom part of my nose, so what if I wasn't getting the right amount of oxygen. And then I was out.

The next thing I remember, I was in the post-op room with a couple other people. I asked the post-op nurse how I got in that room, and she laughed and told me I rode in a wheelchair, which I have absolutely no recollection of. I remember laying in that chair and continuing to look at the clock, thinking, I can't believe it's already 10 am...I've been here for a long time! (It was really only about an hour since the surgery had started, but it felt WAY longer than that). They put me in a wheelchair and wheeled me out to the car, where The Hubs was waiting to drive me home.

Since I've been home, the teeth (or lack thereof, I guess, lol) have been WAY less painful than I expected it to be. I think the "head bra", as my doctor called it, holding ice against my jaws has really helped with the pain and swelling. And Percosets certainly don't hurt, either. My left side, with the two partially impacted/partially broken through teeth barely hurts at all right now, but the right side, with only the one wisdom tooth that was completely impacted in my lower jaw is pretty sore. Sore, but not unbearable. I keep the "head bra" on as much as I can, and I take the meds as I'm supposed to, and I'm doing just fine.

All in all, this experience has been as great as a surgery could be. The doctors and nurses were beyond awesome, the pain has been very bearable, and The Hubs has been an awesome caretaker (as always). If you've been needing to have it done and haven't (Kate and Sarah, lol) find a good doctor, or come to Cincinnati and use mine, and you'll be fine!

Thanks again to everyone for the well wishes and the pity party! I appreciate it! And I'm glad to say I'm doing really well after something I thought was going to be miserable.

I'm sure the pity party helped. :-)

Bye bye, smartie pants.

Tomorrow. Ugh.

I'm not sure if I mentioned this previously, but tomorrow I get to experience one of the joys of adulthood. One of those things that a high percentage of 20-30 year old people get to go through. One of those 'necessary evils' of life.

Tomorrow I lose my wisdom (teeth).

Ugh.

Oh, and have I said "ugh" yet? No? Okay then, UGH.

I had my top right wisdom tooth removed many years ago, and I guess that guy wasn't an "above and beyond" kinda guy, so he just let my other 3 hang out. And now, the two on my left have partially broken through the skin, thus leaving a LOT of room for a fast and nasty infection (which I haven't gotten yet, thank you jeebus) and the remaining one on my right is COMPLETELY impacted into my lower jaw bone.

Isn't that special?

So, tomorrow, at 8:40 am, my loving husband is going to take me in. I know that this is not a life threatening surgery, and I know that it's not "major", but that really doesn't make it suck any less. It's not going to be fun. I don't want to do it, but I want it to be over with, so I'm glad that I only had to wait two weeks from my initial consultation to surgery day. I'll be off work Thursday and Friday, and then go back on Monday, wherein I have to do some new-hire training.

Let's hope I'm not completely miserable.

Pity party for one, please?

Brianne Marie

Brianne Marie arrived last night! Six weeks early, but doing good! 5lb. 1oz. and 18" long.

Congratulations, Tonja and Jason! She's absolutely beautiful.

I want one

Ketchup

Random things:

1. I have to have my 3 remaining wisdom teeth removed next Thursday. One of them is completely impacted into my jaw bone and the other two have partially broken through the skin. Fun times, kids. Fun times.

2. I hate Actos. This medicine, besides costing me a small fortune, has made my hands swell to the point that I can't wear my wedding rings, and makes me constantly hungry. Like, starving. Excellent.

3. Tonja is in labor right now. She's been on bedrest now for about 5 weeks since she started going into pre-term labor 11 weeks prematurely. At 33 weeks, last Wednesday, her water broke and she was admitted to the hospital. They told her that they would induce her in a week if Miss Brianne didn't come on her own. And here we are. Poor Tonja has been sitting in the hospital for a week, leaking amniotic fluid (it regenerates, did you know that?!), and now she's having a baby! Yay for little Miss Bri. The BFF and I are VERY excited for her arrival.

4. Spring has sprung, which makes me happy!

5. I started a new blog. Not the other new blog, a different new blog. I changed my mind...I'm a woman, I'm allowed. So instead of the mushy "letters to my baby" blog, which wasn't going to work with my desire to post about the ins and outs of my pregnancy (I doubt my kid wants to hear about my ovulation and fallopian tubes, lol) I started The Progeny Project. It's a lovely little TMI-fest, so consider yourself fairly warned. Also, come be a follower if you'd like to know about my cycles. :)

6. I miss blogging. That is all.

Diabetes Update

Had my 3 month A1c check-up on Monday. I was down a couple pounds, which the doctor was happy about. She basically said "It's winter. You didn't gain. That's a win". So I'll take it.

She said that since we have a very strict timeline as to when we want to get pregnant, she wanted to put me on another medication to help control my numbers. From what I understand, the Metformin that I'm on helps by increasing the insulin that my body produces. And apparently, that's not enough. So this new medication, Actos, works in addition to the Metformin, by helping my body become less insulin-resistant. "Combination Therapy" she called it. "Throw yet another pill into the mix" I heard. But if it's gonna get my numbers to where they need to be so that I can have a healthy baby, I'll do it.

You wanna hear the downside? I picked up my prescription - 30 teeeny tiiiny pills. $139.22.

$139.22

This is 30 pills. So small that they all fit inside the lid of the bottle. Ridiculous, I tell you.

Diabetes is expensive.

All the more reason for me to try to get my numbers down naturally. I can't afford these pills throughout the duration of my pregnancy, and I can't afford an unhealthy baby. I have 3 months to get these numbers down to where they need to be. The more I can do that with diet and exercise, the better off we'll all be in the long (and short) run.

To start, I did over an hour with Mr. Treadmill last night. 500 calories burned. Good stuff. The hard part is never actually staying on the treadmill. The hard part is just stepping on to the damn thing. Forcing, bribing, or talking myself into that is wherein my struggle lies. That is what I have to get better at.

Now, which one of you is going to volunteer to show up at my doorstep to make me?