The Further Adventures of Deluzy

Bad day at Black Rock

Did I say my husband was depressed? Have I mentioned that before? D'ya think??? That is, at least, my charitable construction of what lies beneath his nasty, nit-picking, angry behavior today -- which I would describe except that it sounds so completely illogical that no one would follow my account of it. He's been sulking on the sun porch since this morning, wrapped up in his sweats and a down sleeping bag because it's been pouring buckets today and he's nursing a cold.

We're both under tremendous stress with him hating his job and me hoping desperately that I get the job I'm up for later in April -- but his behavior is really just striking me as truly bizarre. So the cat shat upstairs because I'd closed the door and was sleeping so soundly, after having taken an Ativan, that I didn't hear her cries to get out ... so the registration tags for the car haven't come yet although I sent in the materials and the check, tomorrow's April, and they're now overdue ... these are apparently damning facts that identify me as one who's wrapped up in her own world, thoughtless, inconsiderate, and irresponsible. Huh? Maybe these things are irritating inconveniences, but proof of serious character flaws that merit bug-eyed yelling?

I don't think so, babe.

It's at times like these that I truly wonder how any marriage survives. Do I have a particularly bad one? I don't feel as if I do, but then, maybe I'm one of those folks who's in serious denial and will wake up only when he or I walks out the door with a packed bag.

I do think that the profound irony of my marriage is that I married a person who suffers from depression and isn't prepared to do anything about it -- me, a person who suffered from depression most of her life but recovered! I very consciously endeavored not to marry a violent or abusive man, a womanizer, a psychopath, a drunk (hey, they run in my family), but I forgot about how debilitating depression can be -- and in men it often takes the form of anger, I know. My oldest sister married a drunk, my brother married a woman who seemed together but is kind of an emotional mess, my other sister didn't marry anyone at all -- and I married Dr. Jekyll whose nodding acquaintance with depression brings out Mr. Hyde.

I am not happy today.

Labels: Family, Head-trips

Calm-down pills

That's what we used to call my mother's anti-anxiety med from the 1970s, and we half-suspected it was a placebo and worked only by the power of suggestion. I, however, have had a standing prescription for Ativan (lorazepam) for the past nine years now to take on an "as-needed basis." While need arises far less frequently than it used to, I do believe I'm going to down one of those little suckers tonight. My therapist suggested massages -- weekly, if not more frequently -- to see me through my current period of stress, and while that would be lovely, it would definitely exceed my budget. But my tiny little white pills, at $5 for 30, do not, thank you very much. They, combined with some time spent on my home elliptical machine, are going to have to see me through the next few weeks of my tension-filled life.

My husband stayed home from work today. More and more often he goes in for only a few hours and then returns, or else he doesn't go in at all. He's been at his company for 15+ years, is bored and alienated and now depressed and miserable, and I know he's desperately hoping that I get the tenure-track job I'm up for. The pressure is on -- though with me not-so-gainfully employed on a part-time basis (well, hell, I work long hours but get only part-time credit and pay), I'm sure he feels the pressure to hang in there at a job he hates until my own situation is straightened out.

I think my husband is, by temperament, a somewhat depressed person, and certainly he's situationally depressed and has been for some time now. I know he once tried Prozac after his father's death in the late 1990s before we met, and he didn't like the way it made him feel (what a contrast to my experience: it saved my life, literally). Now, however, there are all kinds of alternatives to Prozac, and I've been on some of them myself (I tend to build up a resistance to SSRIs after I've been on them for a couple of years and have to switch to a new brand). I'm currently trying to think of a way to discuss this option with him -- or at least, I view it as an option. Somehow I doubt he'll see it the same way -- but as one who's experienced Better Living through Pharmaceuticals myself, perhaps he'll realize that he's married to a poster child for anti-depressants and give them a shot. (Yeah, right.)

Labels: Family, Head-trips

Forward movement

Just a quick note to say that I honored my earlier promise to myself today and took some concrete actions to both prep for teaching my new class and to complete the documentation for the job I've applied for; I'm hoping that that has helped me break out of my paralysis and inactivity, and I'll find it easier to work on both things tomorrow.

A dear friend of mine is experiencing relationship problems, and I'm holding good thoughts. I'm also thinking about Castaway Ray, who's finally had his DS with the Rabkins in San Francisco but, due to other health complications that worsened before he was able to hook up with the Rabkins, is in a bad way tonight. There's a wonderful site called Gratefulness.org where you can light a candle online (gee, can you tell I've got Catholicism in my background?); it's totally non-denominational, but I think I'll go there tonight and light at least two candles for these two people in my thoughts tonight.

Labels: Academia, Gratitude

Zen exercise

Sometimes it feels to me as if my entire life is a Zen exercise -- which is to say that, time and time again, I have to relearn the lesson that very little in my life that I want to control is in my ability to control. Sometimes the healthiest thing I can do (and the thing that brings greatest peace of mind) is to do my best and then let go. Those who know me well know that I tend to be a tad obsessive-compulsive (I was literally OCD as a child and early adolescent -- full of ritualistic, repetitive behaviors to keep myself and my world safe), and when I'm stressed out I become more that way. Right now I'm stressing about work (the upcoming class at a new university next week that I have to begin teaching; also the interview/assessment process for the tenure-track job I'm up for), and instead of doing the things that would ease that stress a bit (uh, like preparing for the class and putting together some documentation for the job search), I'm distracting myself from that stress by obsessing on my slow weight loss this month, exercise, and consumption of calories. I guess that's all less debilitating for me to think about than the work stuff, although everything taken together feels pretty overwhelming, period.

The fact is, I'm doing what I should be doing in the way of food, water, exercise and supplements, and the rest of it (i.e., weight loss) will happen in its own time, as long as I'm doing my part -- which I am. I posted to the boards about this, and that's pretty much what folks confirmed to me, so I need to let go.

Today I'm going to take at least one concrete action to prepare for the course I'm teaching and to wrap up the documentation process for the job I've applied for, and those actions, hopefully, will jolt me out of this obsessive freeze I'm in.

Sometimes it's exhausting to be me!

Labels: Academia, Head-trips

Getting healthier

Off all diabetes meds now ... it's really amazing. My morning blood sugar readings are improving every day, and it's kind of surreal to have tangible proof of improving health -- this certainly wasn't the case when I lost weight through conventional means. It's also a very real incentive, too, to keep watching the carbs, exercising, and Using the Tool (a.k.a. one's surgery --> the idea being that it's a tool we use to get to wear we want to be, but we still need to do the work with "the tool").

I had no idea how many calories a day I should be eating, and my surgeon refused to give me a number ("If you feel good, you're not hungry, and you're losing weight, then you're eating the right amount" --> which is sensible, of course, but he's talking to someone who's had a skewed relationship to food all her life, so I don't trust myself to deal well without guidelines yet). So I've asked around on the discussion boards (answer: everyone varies), and then I thought to ask about the Weight Watchers points range for my current weight (224). Using the rough approximation of 50 calories per point (which is what I remember one WW leader telling us), it looks as if 1,300 calories is a good target range for me right now. Maybe a little more, given that I don't absorb all of the calories I eat with this surgery, but for now (read: during this period when I'm losing slooooowly), I'm going to aim for that number. It won't be hard to do at the moment, so I don't feel as if I'm imposing a restriction -- it feels more like a safety net, somehow! After all, this whole duodenal switch adventure is still very new to me.

I've been on the elliptical faithfully for the past four days, doing about 25-30 minutes each time. My current exercise goal is some kind of aerobic activity 5x/week for at least 30 minutes, and I'm off to a good start.

I swung by the department yesterday on campus wearing a slightly new style for me (a fitted black sweater with a new little wine-colored bolero-style sweater over it, accentuating my minimal boobs), and the office manager asked me if I'd been losing weight. (I'd told her about my surgery, but she seems to have forgotten.) So folks are beginning to notice, and the part of me that has its share of vanity enjoys that.

Labels: Exercise, Fashion, Food, Health, Triumphs

Wow moment continues

Ohmylivinggod, I tested my blood sugar this morning, and it was lower than yesterday's 184 -- it was 162! We'll see how it is tomorrow, but if it's below 200 again, I'm going to consider that I'm off all diabetes meds, as Dr. Keshishian suggested. Now, of course these numbers are not normal -- they're still too high -- but both Keshishian and my PCP believe that further weight loss will reduce them, that the meds can get in the way of that loss, and that it's best to get off the meds, post-op, when the numbers are under 200 so that one's blood sugar doesn't crash and burn.

This is a flipping miracle, is all I have to say.

I told my husband this with tears in my eyes: I cannot believe that I'm seeing my diabetes reverse itself in front of my eyes. I've been this weight before but it didn't improve my diabetes: it's the fact of the surgery itself which is doing this. Okay, and my very conservative limitation of carbs -- but still.

The gastric reduction-duodenal switch is a miracle for morbidly obese Type II diabetics. If you're reading this and you are one and conventional weight loss methods haven't worked for you long-term, please consider it.

To celebrate, I think I may ask my husband to help me dust off my Schwinn Deluxe Cruiser and pump up its tires in preparation for warmer biking days ahead! Laura H. got me interested in my bike again the other day when she posted about her new purchase of a beautiful turquoise-colored retro-style girls' bike. (T

Labels: Health, Triumphs

Exercise ... and a wow moment

I confess that I am a lazy person at heart (which doesn't mean I can't or don't work hard -- perhaps I mean that I'm physically lazy --> only that's probably not right, either: it perpetuates the stereotype of the morbidly obese person as slothful, and I'm actually anything but).

Okay, let's just say that, because of the shame attached to being fat and the awkwardness I've always felt, I have never been comfortable being active, particularly not in front of other peole. However, I know that exercise has to be prioritized in my life -- for the rest of my life -- to maximize the results of this surgery. To that end I climbed on my home elliptical this morning (a Fitness Quest Eclipse 1100 HR -- that's it in the photo in the upper right-hand corner) for the first time since surgery. It's a pity I don't look like the model in the photo, but being 50+ pounds lighter really helps: I thought I'd be going for only 10 minutes this first time, but I managed 20 and I could have gone for half an hour ... I most definitely would not have been able to do that immediately out the gate at 280 pounds, that's for sure!

(What's more, I finished listening to an audio book I downloaded from Audible, and I think that may be the route I take with walking or doing the elliptical. Keeps my brain active at the same time that I exercise [although I have a lamentable penchant for relaxing over trash novels, so I don't know that the brain waves are receiving their fair share of exercise].)

Now for the wow moment: I followed my surgeon's suggestion (see my 3-month update), discontinued use of metformin yesterday for my diabetes, and tested my blood sugar first thing this morning -- and my jaw dropped when my reading was 184. I was sure it wouldn't be below 200 without meds, but as Dr. K said, that was 55 pounds ago.

Now, who knows ... perhaps all the metformin hasn't gotten out of my system yet. I'll continue to test over the next few days -- but if I could eliminate it altogether I'd be ecstatic; Dr. K's concerns about it getting in the way of weight loss alarmed me, I admit.

Labels: Exercise, Health, Triumphs

Three-month check-up in Delano, CA

Here I am, camped out at the Best Western hotel in Delano, CA, having come down earlier today for my 3-month follow-up appointment with Dr. Keshishian. It's a 4-hour drive each way, so I'm spending the night, watching a little TV and reading some trash novels to unwind from the day.

Bottom line: things are great! Dr. K took a look at my vertical lap incision, said it looked good and not worry about the tiny bit of drainage that's still going on. When I asked him how I was doing in terms of weight loss, he asked me, "How do *you* think you're doing?" I said (based on my research and on the lab rat data) that I thought I was doing average to well, and he shook his head. My heart sank. "You're doing *exceptionally* well!"

Huh?

Well, of course, remember that many DS surgeons consider the surgery a success if we lose 50% of our excess body weight. (This probably reflects both realism and a desire for successful stats on their own part.) "Okay, yes, I know that," I said, "And I'm happy with my progress so far -- but I won't be happy with 50%." To which he replied, "You're *already* at 40-something % at three months out ... what, you think you're not going to lose any more weight in the coming year and three months?!"

He makes me laugh at myself.

We talked about target weights and when I said I'd picked 155 from the Weight Watchers charts, he rolled his eyes and suggested 180. "Youi'll look and feel sick at 155!" (How refreshing to have a doctor suggest a *higher* weight to me!) But as soon as we began to talk about specific possibiiities, I realized how totally theoretical and not very useful it was for me: "Look, this is kind of pointless -- I've never *been* 180 *or 155 as an adult, so I don't know what I'm talking about -- I just want to maximize the window of weight loss and get as healthy as possible, and I'm going to have to decide what feels and looks good when I get there."

*Now you're talking!" said Dr. K.

And then, for the first time, really, he and I clicked -- I've always respected his reputation, but this is the first time that we seemed to *get* each other. "Alison, you came in here so far ahead of most people who walk in my office, in that your goal was improved health and not a magic number, and you'd done a lot of research. Don't *worry* so much. You're doing exceptionally well, and you look wonderful -- you're going to have to bring a photo of yourself next time so that I can recognize you." And then I realized that this guy is genuinely happy for me and for the changes that are occurring and for my improving health, and that he caresv -- I didn't get that before, but I'm convinced of it now.

Now, one thing: he thinks I should discontinue the one diabetes med I'm still on (metformin) for a few days, test first thing in the morning, and if I'm under 200, stay off it lest it slow down weight loss (as it can do). I told him my PCP put me back on it because my blood sugar had been 250 in the mornings, and he said, "Yes, but that was 55 pounds ago. See where you're at now, talk it over with your doctor, and then do what you both feel best about ... you could also think about reducing the dosage or the frequency."

So of course now I'm obsessing on that. He saw that I was, in fact, and laughed. "Would you RELAX?! I'm just bringing it up as something to consider!" Then he shook his head over my OCD tendencies, told me he remembered my yellow pad full of questions from our very first meeting (I was surprised -- the guy does have a good memory), and I went on my way.

Labels: Health, Monthly updates

Then or now, there's always stress

"Then," of course, is the photo on the left, taken in July 2005, at my highest weight of 280, when I felt tired, old, and sick, and "now" is the photo on the right, taken a few days ago, down 54 pounds in three months following my DS, at 226. (Still not Kate Moss, but hey, give me a little time!) It's a pity I had my hands in my pockets in that one -- it just emphasizes my still-sizable belly -- but I'm losing weight and feeling much better. (Note to self: I've got short legs -- my hemlines need to come up so that I don't look like a stocky column!)

Believe it or not, the DS and matters related are not the only things on my mind these days. I spent most of 2005 driving myself and my husband nuts in quest of this surgery (the Year of Personal Stress), and the first part of 2006 seems to be shaping up into the Year of Professional Stress. I'm up for a tenure-track job at a university where I've been an adjunct professor for four years, there's another inside candidate; we're both competent people, and we both need the job. The interview process for all the candidates will take place in April, and we should know the results in early May. Meanwhile, my husband can barely stand to go to his job of 15 years anymore, and is really desperately hoping that I land this position so that he can retire (early, I might add, at 50). In fact, he turns 50 in less than a week, and I can tell he's reaching the end of his psychological rope with his work. So I feel double the pressure I might ordinarily feel to land the job I'm up for (not to mention, I'm totally stressed over his actual birthday: he has Birthday Weirdness, and it's difficult to know what to do to make that day special for him in a way that he'll like).

Add to that, I start teaching as an adjunct professor at a pretigious local university for the spring term, also in April, and that's upping my anxiety because I've never taught there before. Lots of work to do before I walk through the door on the first day of class.

Finally, an additional stressor is that my coeditor and I have had a separation of the ways: she wanted a commitment from me to finish work on an edited collection of articles this month or by mid-April at the latest, and given the way the timeframe with the job search and my teaching schedule has unfolded, I couldn't make that commitment -- I really felt I had to place the potential job and the spring teaching first. I feel bad for both her and me, and I think she may be feeling frustrated, overwhelmed, and a little pissed off, all of which is understandable; I feel the same way. But it is what it is.

Can I have a collection scream to release tension? "AAAAHHHH!" Time for some exercise, boy.

Labels: Academia, Family, Photos

Starting here - Happy St. Patrick's Day

Hmm ... I'm not satisfied with the design of this blog, but since I'm not an HTML whiz, I have to make do, more or less, with the templates they've got here. And let's face it, they more than serve my purpose, which is not elevated or elaborate. I'm just trying to stay in touch with this peculiar head of mine, with my surgically altered innards, and with the uneasy relationship they have with one another right now.

Weight loss has stalled for a couple of weeks which I find entirely irritating. I'm eating no more than 1,200 calories a day, max (I track things rather obsessively on Fitday), of which I absorb maybe ... 70% max? So it can't be about eating too much, and it's probably about my body going into shock after a loss of 54 pounds in three months -- but it's still exasperating. Some folks in one of my DS groups advise eating a Krispy Kreme donut (because of the high fat: we DSers absorb only 20% of fats, and the rest travels right through us), but since I have successfully severed my relationship with refined carbs thus far, I don't want to do that. I may have to choose some other high-fat route to get things moving again, however.

(Of course, today is St. Patrick's Day. You'd think perhaps a fatty piece of corned beef might do the trick, but at only 3 months out, I can't quite face all that pink meat!)

Labels: Plateaus