Being Honest (and a Wednesday Weigh-In)

Even with the Lap Band, this weight loss thing is difficult. Things haven't been going well for the past two-ish weeks, and I purposefully didn't weigh in last week because I knew the numbers were going to be bad. Like, up three pounds kind of bad. So I didn't weigh in. I didn't want record of that. And part of the reason is because I know how much my weight fluctuates (scale whore, much?) and I knew that my weight probably wouldn't be as bad the next week.

And the worst part about sticking my head in the sand like that? It worked.

While my weigh in last week would have shown me up more than three pounds, my weigh in this week shows me down almost one pound.

Two Weeks Ago: 245.0 lb
This Week: 244.2 lb
Loss: 0.8 lb

*edited: accidentally posted my weight as 244.8, but it was 244.2. Thanks Connie for checking my math!*

Obviously this isn't discouraging me from skipping bad weigh ins, now is it? Ugh. The scary part is that those are old habits - avoiding accountability, pretending like nothing is wrong, hiding from the truth, etc. Those are Fat Anna habits, and I have got to get better at working through them. The Lap Band isn't going to fix any of that for me. I have to do it on my own. (Scary!)

It just sucks. And the root of my problem is nothing but sheer laziness. Sure, I could blame it on stress (because I am stressed beyond belief). I could blame it on my schedule (because I have a lot on my plate right now). I could blame it on the band (because I think I'm still a little outside of the green zone).

But really? It's just laziness. I'm too lazy to pack my lunch. I'm too lazy to pack workout clothes. Even if I did pack clothes, I'm too lazy to actually go to the fitness center and work out. I've been too lazy to take my Bydureon injections, so my hunger has returned full force and I can feel my blood sugars getting a tiny bit out of whack.

Do they make an anti-laziness pill? Hell, who am I kidding? Even if they did, I'd probably be too lazy to take it!

How do I change this? How do I make myself do the things that I need to do? Even the things that most normal people do on a regular basis? (Like vacuuming more than, oh, maybe once a month. Or doing laundry before the entire family runs out of clean socks and underwear. Or dusting, like, ever.)

And I can hear my awesome friend Heather whispering in my ear right now that I need to show myself a little grace. So I'll move on from Whiny Wednesday...

In other, less frustrating news, the DietBet that I'm participating in now has more than 400 members and is worth $8,380.00. I have five more pounds to lose by March 28th to be eligible for my share of the pot. I really need to up the ante (bad pun intended) on myself to get there. 

I'll do it. And it will be super-redonk-amazeballs to be in the 2freaking30's. I can't even tell you the last time I was in the 230s. Don't even know. But I'll get there soon. (I did, finally, force myself to take my Bydureon injection last night, so hopefully that will help some.) 

Ugh, I feel like this post is all over the place, so I apologize for my schizophrenia. Have a great day, y'all! 

Weighty Matters...

1. Blood work
2. Fitness Consultation
3. Nutrition Consultation
4. Sign Pre-op Paperwork
5. EKG
6. Start pre-op diet (10/24)
7. Pay in full (10/24)
8. Pre-op physical (10/26)
9. Stop taking all medications (11/1)
10. Start Hibiclens (11/4)
11. Pick up post-op meds (11/5)
12. SURGERY DAY (11/7)
13. Post-op Follow-Up (11/14)
14. First Fill (12/7)

Slowly crossing things off up there. I had my pre-op (read: pointless) physical this morning with my regular doctor. She asked me all the normal questions about my diabetes numbers and my back flare-ups and general health and then she gave me the go-ahead. 

Two awesome things from this appointment, though - 

(1) My blood pressure was AWESOME. Like, awesomer than awesome, for me. 116/74, which is the lowest reading I've ever gotten. I've never been diagnosed as hypertensive, except for when I was pregnant, but my numbers have always fallen in the "pre-hypertensive" range. 116/74 is sitting pretty in the "normal" range, which is totally deserving of a "woot!"

(2) Not so awesome was that I found out my highest weight was actually higher than I thought it was. I had thought my highest weight ever (non-pregnant, of course) was 278, but it turns out that they have my recorded weight back in March at 281. The good news is that when I weighed in today (in jeans, mind you), I weighed 261! Twenty pounds down! Also totally deserving of a "woot!"

As happy as I am with that 20 pounds, it doesn't for one split second make me think that I don't need the surgery to help me lose the rest (and keep it off). I had some help with these 20 pounds that isn't always going to be there. 

First, about 3 months ago, I had my IUD removed. I instantly - and by instantly, I mean, within about a week - lost about 8 pounds from that and have kept it off. LURVE being back on the pill again, and as a bonus, thanks to Mr. Obama, my birth control is free every single month. Whether you like him or not, ya gotta love free medicine! 

Secondly, my primary doctor put me on a diabetes medication called Bydureon around the same time. It is a once weekly injection in the belly, which sucks, but it's nowhere near as bad as the 2-3 times daily insulin injections I was having to do while pregnant. Bydureon helps with all the diabetes related stuff, of course, but has the added bonus of appetite suppression. There have been days where I couldn't eat more than a couple bites at each meal without feeling completely stuffed to the brim. 

The downside to Bydureon is that (1) it's an injection, which is no fun, and (2) unlike my birth control, it is NOWHERE NEAR free. Each injection would cost me more than $100, which is more than $400 per month, out of pocket because of my employer's crappy insurance. 

Luckily, my doctor is awesome and has been giving me samples of the Bydureon for a while so that I don't have to spend the money. Really, if she hadn't been giving me the samples, it wouldn't even be an option because of the cost, so I'm super grateful for her/that. 

And the third thing helping with my weight loss right now is this stupid, horrible, no good, very bad pre-op diet. (Can you tell I'm loving it?!) I made it through the day at work on Wednesday just fine, but had a breakdown that night. No matter how prepared you think you are, you're never going to understand how few 800 calories is, and how limited your food choices are, until you get there. 

I have slightly modified the diet by adding in 2 oz. of lunch meat, which meets all the diet criteria of low cal/low carb/high protein, and as long as I'm staying under 800 calories per day (which I have!), I think I'm doing just fine. According to my home scale, I've lost more than 4 pounds since Wednesday morning. 

My official weight at the surgery center was 270.0, and they want you to lose 10 pounds before surgery, so technically, I'm already there. Not that I'm not going to do the diet, but it's good to know that I don't have to stress about meeting the requirement so they'll approve my surgery. 

So now, it looks like I'm clear on THE LIST until 11/1 when I have to stop all my meds. All of the big requirements have been met, and the surgery is officially paid for (eek!), so now all I have to do is finish out this diet, wash up with the Hibiclens for 3 days, and wait. 

It's getting real up in here, folks. Who's excited?!

In Sickness and In Health

The Saturday before last, I was out with The Hubs and Bubbers and noticed my back was starting to get finicky. I have two herniated disks (disks or discs? Bueller?) that have a history of flaring up whenever they feel like they aren't getting enough attention, and this was the start of another episode. Freaking attention whores!

Anyway, they flared up, which means constant and severe pain in my lower back, down my hips, and down the back and sides of my thighs.  During these times, I can't stand up straight, can't walk straight, and the muscles in my abs, upper arms, and legs all start hurting from the compensating I'm doing to keep my balance. It's super fun!

And do you know what the "cure" for herniated disk pain is? Weight loss. That's all. So even though I'm scared of the band surgery and still ever-so-slightly wishy washy about it, one week of this, and I'm reminded even more of why I need to go through with it.

Oh, and then there's also:

• Acid Reflux (caused by hiatal hernia)
• Type 2 Diabetes
• Knee problems
• Gastrointestinal issues (caused by Gallbladder removal and Diabetes medications)
• Fatigue
• Occasional Migraines

And to counteract all that crap, there's:

• Metformin (Diabetes)
• Amaryl (Diabetes)
• Bydureon Injection (Diabetes)
• Rx Zantac (Hiatal Hernia related acid reflux)
• Percocet (Only during back flare-ups)
• Flexeril (Only during back flare-ups)
• 800 mg Ibuprofen (Only during back flare-ups/migraines)
• 1000 mg Tums (at least 4x day for acid reflux)

And a partridge in a pear tree. 

Seriously, that's ridiculous. You know, they asked me at my consult why I wanted to have the surgery. And there are SO many reasons. But, really, what it boils down to for me is not a number on a scale, or a size in a store. I just want to be able to fully live my life. Without worrying about my knees or back. Without sticking a needle in my belly every week. Without paying out a ridiculous portion of my hard-earned money to drug manufacturers and insurance companies. 

While it will be awesome to see the numbers on the scale and the sizes in the store go down, the thing I'm most looking forward to is seeing these two lists disappear. Forever. 

Decisions and Confessions

"I've got another confession my friend, I'm no fool
I'm getting tired of starting again, somewhere new..."

("Best of You" by Foo Fighters)


In my case, "somewhere new" tends to be a new decade of poundage. I started this blog in the 260's, worked through the 250's, had a brief stay in the 240's, and now I'm smack dab in the middle of the 270's. I gained back more than double what I lost.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that I'm not great at this whole weight loss thing.

A few months ago, I became Facebook friends with a girl I knew in high school named Kristin. Through catching up with her, I found out that she works for the Cincinnati Weight Loss Center and that she had had Lap-Band surgery a few years before.

Now, previously in years gone by, the thought of having Lap-Band surgery was, for me, like the thought of winning the lottery - it would be nice if it happened, but chances were slim to none, so why dwell on it. I just knew it would be too expensive and that my insurance wouldn't cover it, and I didn't know what hoops I would have to jump through to get it. And then, there's always the fact that it's surgery. Permanent. Invasive. And, did I mention, expensive?

As I mentioned before, Kristin had had the surgery and now works for the doctor who performed it. In fact, every person who works in the office has had the surgery, so they know first hand how it works, feels, costs, etc. She and I talked about the fact that I was semi-seriously considering the surgery but that I knew very little about it. She told me about her experience and how much she paid (she was a self-pay patient, and for those of you who might not know, if your insurance does not cover the cost, you can pay for it yourself, using financing options if you need to). She told me about what she eats and how having the surgery has affected her life, and she invited me to come to the office for an informational seminar.

Also during this time, I started doing my own research. I looked for people who blogged about being banded, and it turns out there's an amazing group of B.O.O.B.s who are a wealth of information, support, and humor. But I didn't just take their word for it. I researched the heck out of weight loss surgeries in general. How safe are they? How expensive are they? What complications can arise? What is life after surgery like? What are my options? Can I really do this?

The Hubs (ever the pragmatic one) was mostly concerned about cost. And being the realist that he is, he also wanted to make sure that if we were going to spend the money (it's, of course, not covered by my insurance) that I would actually stick with it and not find ways to 'cheat' the system. Boy, does he know me or what? It's kind of scary.

He agreed to go to the seminar with me, and by the end of it, he said if we had the money, HE would have the surgery ASAP. Of course, if anyone's going to have the surgery, it's going to be me, because we can't afford to both do it.

It's going to be me.

I have made the decision. I'm going to have Lap-Band surgery.

You may not like it, and that's okay. You may not agree with it, and that's okay too. You may be happy for me, and that's excellent. All I know is that I am finally making a decision to do something for myself. And I'm thrilled!

Now, I am in the very early stages of planning here. I've only gone to the seminar and done the research. I haven't had a consultation or worked out the financing or set a date. In fact, I have to wait to do anything until The Hubs finds a steady job, so it might be months before I can actually put my plan into action.

But at least I've got a plan.

There's the decision. Want to know the confession?

I'm scared.

Here are just some of the things I worry about, and also a little bit about how I am overcoming the fear:

~The Cost~

Being a self-pay patient is going to cost me about $14,000. That's a chunk of change. And it's not like we have it stashed under our mattress for just such occasions. We will have to finance and pay interest on it for years to come.  It will mean a car payment's worth of money coming out of our paychecks every month.

However, remaining morbidly obese will cost me well over $14,000 over the course of the rest of my life. And it will not only cost me monetarily, but it will cost me physically. My dad is basically dying of unchecked Diabetes, have I mentioned that lately? That will be me. And me being overweight doesn't just affect me or my quality of life anymore - it affects Bubbers now, too. Being morbidly obese means that I can't play with him the way I want to. I can't do the things I want to do, and being this fat is almost an early death sentence. I want to be around for him. Not experiencing his life to the fullest is a cost that I am not willing to pay.

~The Surgery~

One thing that I didn't know until I did my research is that having the Lap-Band means actually having a port attached to the muscle in your stomach. Permanently. As in, it's always there, and when you get skinny enough, you can sometimes see and feel it. (Gross!) Having that port also means getting a needle stuck in your abdomen for "fills". I guess when I thought about the concept of the Lap-Band, I never realized that it was something that was dynamic, that changed. I just thought you had the surgery, they put a "collar" on your stomach, and you lived your life. Now I know that's not the case. Just because you have the surgery doesn't mean you're done. You have to maintain the band. Get it filled and un-filled. It's not something Ron Popeil created - you can't just "Set it and forget it!"

I have made peace with the fact that there will be a foreign object in my body for the rest of my life. And, it wasn't really that hard to deal with the thought of the needle and fills/unfills because of the insulin shots I had to give myself while pregnant. That was multiple times a day. If I can deal with that, I can deal with a few adjustments a year if I have to.

I have made peace with the fact that it's surgery. I had my gallbladder taken out in early 2008, and the process is similar to that. I had a 10 pound baby delivered by c-section and survived. If I don't have this surgery, there will be other surgeries because of it. My Diabetes, if left unchecked, could mean heart, liver, eye, or foot damage, all of which lead to surgeries. (All of which, except for liver, are surgeries that my dad has had, by the way).

I generally do well under the knife, and although I know that there are always possible complications, I'm not concerned.

~Life After The Band~

What does having the band mean? How will it affect my day to day life? What will I have to change?

This is the big one for me. The money, we can find somewhere. The surgery, I can handle. But life after? That's the scary part. I'm having this surgery because I need someone or something to FORCE me to change my ways. (But that scares the shit out of me!)

How is the Lap-Band going to force me to change? I'll have to temporarily succumb to a liquid diet, and might have to return to it after fills and if I have any issues. I'll have to cut my food into the tiniest of tiny pieces and chew it to a pulp. For evah. I'll have to watch my protein intake and make sure I'm getting vitamins and nutrients. I'll have to quit drinking during my meals (which I'm not entirely convinced I'll be able to do), and most difficult of all for me, I'll have to give up pop (and all carbonated beverages) for good.

My dad works for Coca-Cola. Diet Coke runs through my veins. And I'll have to give it up.

(Now, just so you're fully informed, there is some controversy surrounding this restriction.Some doctors don't say that you can never drink pop, and some do.  The doctor at CWLC says you do, so I will.)

 These are all big, daily, life-altering changes. Scary stuff.

But what would life be like if I didn't have the surgery? If I continue on the course that I've taken for thirty years? Sure, life without the band would be easier in some respects. I could drink what ever I want and eat what ever I want, but then I'm where I always have been. Only worse. Lap Band Gal says "If hunger isn't the problem, then eating isn't the solution."

Being able to eat whatever I want is not going to make my life worth living.

All in all, I have researched, asked questions, thought, debated, cried, and pretty much done everything I can think of to make sure that having this surgery is the right thing for me. And I wholeheartedly believe it is. It's not a quick fix or a simple solution. It takes effort and commitment just like dieting and exercise, but the Lap-Band is there to help.

It's like this: let's pretend that in order for me to reach a healthy weight, I have to swim across the ocean. Diet and Exercise are my arms and legs. They are the tools that I have to get there. Now, I could swim and swim and swim to my heart's content, but there's pretty much no way that I'll make it across the ocean on my own. Then along comes Lap-Band - my life jacket - which makes me just a little more buoyant, and in turn, makes my journey just a little bit easier. Now at least I have a chance.

Lap-Band is going to be my life jacket. I'll swim harder than I ever have before, and it will help me go farther than I ever thought I could.

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.

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

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.

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!

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.

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.

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? :-)

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?

Getting into the swing of things.

I love lists and forms. I'm one of those crazy people who actually likes paperwork. Crazy, I know. But anyway, I created a daily sheet to fill out. I'll upload a picture of it later, when I actually have one, but suffice it to say, it's amazing. It rocks. It's a Diabetic, OCD dieter's dream. (She said, ever so humbly...)

At the bottom, there is a place for notes from the day - how I was feeling, what I did, what's going on in my life, etc. You know, what people did before blogs - using pen and paper to write things down on...archaic, I know, but it's quick and simple.

At any rate, those notes will probably make up the majority of my blog posts while I'm working hard on losing this weight so I can get pregnant and miserable.

So here you go - yesterday's notes:

Day 1. Good so far. Felt hungry during the day, but had snacks handy to combat. Surprised at how little food I had with it still adding up to around 1500 calories. Still good, though. Tried 5-6 new poses on Wii Fit Yoga (love it!). Harder than it looks & harder than the "live" class I took. Can't do the "one knee lift" pose at all, or "tree" pose very well. My foot keeps slipping down my pants - lol. Surprisingly, completed the "chair" pose, but my legs shook the whole time. It's tough! Did three, 3-minute Wii runs and did 1.5 miles total on the treadmill. Ran the whole last half mile non-stop @ 3.5mph. I'm pretty stoked about that! MRI Training this week at work has me stressed, plus The Hubs going back to school. Feeling slightly overwhelmed but trying to stay positive. Wedding dress shopping with The BFF tomorrow should be a fun stress-reliever. Not sure how I will fit in the workout or what I'll be doing for dinner, though. :/ Bummed that I'll miss the first episode of TBL, but excited for The BFF to finally get to try on dresses rather than be a bridesmaid watching the bride.

2009...

Sure was an interesting year for me...

I started a blog and maintained it much more and longer than I thought I would.
I started and stopped (and started and stopped, and started and stopped) eating right and working out.
I lost (and kept off) 10 pounds for the first time ever.
I participated in FIVE 5k races.
I learned how to deal with a husband who is a full-time college student and a full-time third-shift employee.
I made a ton of new internet friends. (Hi y'all!)
I had a minor breakdown when I learned what it really meant to have Diabetes and want to get pregnant.

The BFF spent the year dealing with the big, honkin' tumor in her uterus. She also got engaged on Christmas Eve!

Tonja got married and is expecting her first baby (a girl, to be named Brianne Marie) in April.

MFN has somehow survived almost an entire year with a deployed husband. (Who will be home for two weeks at the end of this month! Yay!)

The Hubs and I came thisclose to buying a house. And then we didn't. We did buy a Wii, though. :)

I didn't do everything I set out to do when I wrote my first post. But I did lose weight, and I did do five 5ks, and most importantly, I learned A LOT. 2010 is just going to have to be the year I put all that learnin' to use. I have more tools at my disposal than I ever have, and I will never have a better reason than getting pregnant to motivate myself.

This is the year that it all happens. It has to be.

Rinse and repeat.

Stayed in my calories today. Only made it 2 miles on the treadmill, but I'm still calling it a victory.

Finding it hard to stay optimistic with PMS looming her ugly head and the fact that my Diabetes medication is resulting in gastrointestinal explosions that would rival Old Faithful.

Oh, was that TMI? Welcome to my world. It's lovely here.

Eternal Optimist

So...today I start diet and c25k again. For the gazillionth time.

Here are the facts:

I weighed 250.2 this morning.
I have my A1c appointment in exactly 3 weeks.
My A1c was at 6.4 three months ago.
I want my A1c to be at 6.2 or lower when I get tested.
I also want to lose between 8 and 10.3 pounds by my test.

I stayed within my calories today, and I'm now trying to talk myself into changing my clothes and setting foot on that treadmill for the first time in months.

Why is that first step always the hardest?

I'll update you on my progress (and hopefully not the lack thereof) later tonight.

Ugh.

I am

It's been a month since my last blog. I'm still here, lurking around everyone else's posts and following along silently. Some of you have commented or emailed to check in on me, and for that, I am grateful.

Work is crazy. Apparently we've done our own version of the Louisiana Purchase, and that means everyone runs around like nuts and attempts to deal with the fallout. But, alas, I have a job, and for that, I am grateful.

The weight is the same. I'm back to taking my diabetes meds and trying not to pig out quite so much. I still haven't managed to step one foot on the treadmill. I blame pogo.com's Yahtzee. I have not gained, and for that, I am grateful.

Fall is here, and brings with it changing leaves, sweatshirt weather, and the ability to take comfort in warm drinks, and for that, I am grateful.

The Biggest Loser is back, and for that, I am grateful.

The Hubs is fine. Busy, overworked, and frazzled, but fine. In 10 days, we'll celebrate a milestone, and for that (and him), I am grateful.

Everyone in our families is healthy and as happy as their circumstances will allow. And for that, I am grateful.

I am alive, free, and happy, and for that, I am grateful.

"Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you..."

a.k.a. "The World's Longest Post". If you manage to make it all the way to the end of this crazy train I call a blog post, more power, kudos, my sincerest thanks and deepest appologies to you.

("Ironic" by Alanis Morissette).

So I started this blog all gung-ho, lost 12 pounds, and fizzled. I started again, and fizzled before even getting off the ground. Rinse and repeat. Rinse. and. repeat. And then I started my crazy 30 pounds in 11 weeks challenge, lasted not even two weeks, and what do you know? Fizzle fizzle bo bizzle. (I'm in a unique mood today, can you tell?)

Last week, I was just about to write a post about how I'm guessing I'm just not ready to really get into it. How I don't really have the motivation or drive. How I'm just not really caring right now, because, unfortunately, all of those things were (and pretty much are) 100% true.

Prep for whining here... I'm tired of it. I'm tired of attempting when I'm not really whole-heartedly in it, and then failing miserably. I'm annoyed and just generally over it. And with an attitude like that, I'm pretty sure failure is eminent. Resistance is futile. Danger, Will Robinson. Which ever entertainment quote you want to put there, it pretty much means I ain't losin' no weight. I ain't getting any healthier. I don't know nuthin' 'bout birthin' no babies.

Which is quite the delightful segue into why I'm writing this post now, instead of last week. Prep for what might possibly be TMI. I was due for my yearly with my ob/gyn, and since The Hubs and I are getting up there in age (ah, 27, I never would have guessed you'd make me feel elderly, but alas) and need to start looking into family planning, I made an appointment for us to meet. I found a new doc closer to my job, and we met her on Wednesday.

Prep for shock. I have diabetes. (Okay, maybe if you've paid attention to my rambling at all over the past 8 months, that's not a shock). Diabetes makes me a high-risk pregnant woman if I were to conceive. Like, seriously, high-risk. Not "oh, well, we'll just keep an eye on it,". More like guaranteed bed rest for months, tons of testing and monitoring, possible insulin shots, blood sugar checks at least five times a day, doctor's visits at least three times a week toward the end of the pregnancy. That kind of high-risk. Now, doesn't that sound fun? Yeah, we thought so too.

But, sensing the panic mode that The Hubs and I had painted all over our faces, she throws in this little piece of optimism: if I can maintain my A1c at 5.5 for at least two months before we conceive, I'm no longer considered a high-risk pregnancy, and my pregnancy will be just like any other pregnancy except for the fact that I'm pretty much guaranteed gestational diabetes, which she believes can easily be controlled with oral medications.

Btw, for you non-diabetics, an A1c is a blood test that basically tells you what your average blood glucose levels have been over the past 3 months. Magically. Don't ask me how it does it, because my knowledge ends there. Someone without diabetes usually has an A1c at around 5%, and someone with diabetes that is out of control might be between 10 and 25%. From what I understand, if you're at 25%, you're pretty much dead.

So basically, she's telling me what my regular doctor has been telling me for a year. I need to reverse my diabetes. How do you reverse diabetes and lower your A1c? Oh, it's simple really. Diet and exercise. Lose weight. Or, re-visit and attempt to break (again. again. again. AGAIN.) that crazy cycle of "Gung-Ho, Fizzle Fizzle Bo Bizzle". Great! Fabulous! I'll get right on that. Ugh.

So we came home from that appointment and I basically laid down in bed and cried for an hour and a half. Cried and cried and cried. She had pretty much told me that all of the hopes and dreams of not only myself, but my husband, all rested on my (completely incapable) shoulders. I have to lose weight. I have to control my blood sugar. I have to do it. And if I don't? WE can't have kids. WE can't have kids because I'm fat and lazy. No pressure or anything. I'm already feeling incapable, unmotivated, ready to retreat into fatness for a little while longer, and then this happens.

(And, yes, technically, we could get pregnant. We could have kids, but the chances of them having birth defects practically quadruples, not to mention the danger to myself and the drama of being a high-risk pregnancy. I just don't think I could live with myself knowing that it was all my fat and lazy fault if our kid was messed up and my husband had to go through all that. So, no. We can't have kids unless I get my A1c down).

Weight loss: FAIL. Kids: FAIL. Good wife: FAIL. Man, I'm really sucking these days!

So where's the light at the end of the tunnel? Where's the silver lining? Where's the Eternal Optimist that you all know and love? She's here, muffled and squirming under about 50 pounds of extra weight, excited about the prospect of being pregnant and having a baby, but just a little too jaded to go straight into "Gung-ho" again. The task before me is monumentally more real and challenging knowing what is relying upon my success. I'm sure most of you are just dying to send me that comment that says "You can do it! You have a reason now! You have motivation!" and you might be right. Hopefully this is the catalyst for me finally doing the thing that I've never been able to do.

But past failures have planted that seed of doubt, and current moods are watering it daily. I wish I were able to just forget about that little, nagging voice saying "You have failed. You always fail. You will fail. Every single time before, look what you did! This is no different". But I can't. It's there, and I'm unconvinced at the moment that I can beat it down into submission. Even for a baby.

This is not to say that I'm not going to try. Hell yes, I'm going to try. I basically have 9 months before we would like to be trying for a baby, which means about 6 months to get my A1c to an acceptable level and maintain it long enough to eliminate the extra worries of the diabetic, high-risk pregnancy. My A1c in December of 2008 was 6.7. My A1c on Friday was 6.4. It is moving in the right direction, but there is still a long way to go.

It's a long, hard road out of diabetic hell, and I just have to figure out how to get my wheels turning.

11/79

Day 11: I feel myself slipping...

Calories: 1624
Exercise: Dreaded Steps of Doom...once.
Meds: Check. BS Checks, check.
Mood: Scared.

I totally could have worked out tonight, but didn't. I'm starting to slip back, and I just can't do that. I HAVE TO GET ON THE TREADMILL TONIGHT.

Who's going to come to my house and make sure I do it?

No one?

You mean I'm on my own in this whole thing? I have to do it myself?

Damn.

11 down, 68 to go. I hope I get there.

10/79

Day 10 - Getting back on track.

Calories: 1105
Exercise: None - bah!
Meds: Check. BS Checks, check.
Mood: Ready for bed.

Nothing big to report today. Strange pain in my left eye that has been recurring more often lately, so I found an optometrist and have an appointment next Monday. And I think that's it.

What an exciting life I do lead.

10 down, 69 to go. Out of the 70's! Woot!

Weigh-in #2

246.6

Up 0.2 pounds.

I'd love to blame it all on TOM, but I know that having two straight days of being 600 calories over my limit didn't help. It sucks, and makes the coming weeks harder for me, but I'm not going to let it get me down.

This weekend was bad, so now I have to bounce back and get back to it. Simple as that.

Challenge Week 1 Recap:

Aug 1-9:

Exercise: 30k
Diet: Stayed within goal 7 out of 9 days
Meds: 9/9
Salads: Had two with dinner. Did not have two for dinner.
Eating out: Failed miserably at 1 lunch/1 dinner, but still managed to stay in my calories almost every day.

All in all, pretty good, but there's definitely room for improvement this week. I'm ready to go at it again...