Time to Calm Down

Aloha my loves,

I was just starting this blog post and was going to write "First thing: Just breathe" and then realized that the card I chose yesterday to display (these are called Calm Cards) was well, the pic above.

You see, I'd forgotten. 

I'm in a bit of a manic phase right now. There's so much going on with 2 jobs and doing all these appointments/tests in the hope of getting bariatric surgery that I forgot to stop. Take a breath. 

Yesterday I scheduled myself an appointment for today to get shots: Covid booster, flu, shingles. I need them all. But I don't need them all today. I don't need them immediately, I don't need to run out and move, move, move. Because the moving isn't doing me any favors. The manic action isn't helping me. Filling my plate knowing that at some time the pace will hurt me, the action will cause a crash...

So I'm stopping today. Taking a deep breath. Resetting. 

I did the same thing with my finances. I paid my bills and left myself less than $100 for the week despite needing to get gas, having dinner with a friend tomorrow night and planning to make family dinner Sunday night (I'm craving curry so I'm going to make a chicken curry stew). What the fuck was I thinking? Especially because I stopped and thought carefully and realized that I pre-paid a bill I didn't have to pre-pay because I now have a second source of income.

So I cancelled the payment. Now I have enough money to do what's planned without worry as well as knowing that I'll have the bill paid without sweating. 

Breathe. Calm down. Think before you act.

I'm learning. I don't want to crash. I don't need a panic. It's going to be fine. Self care starts with breathing. Let me catch my breath.

People Blow

 Hey Friends,

yesterday was a weird day. I spent most of the day doing the Covid testing and a few hours doing my primary job at home. And it really kind of disappointed.

There were only 4 of us doing the testing and the other 3 women are super nice. Caring, friendly, funny. We all get along well, support each other. They are all aware that I'm physically limited and they do all the set up and break down without me with no complaints. And I know they all smoke and take frequent vape breaks and I don't care. So we all adapt to each other.

But yesterday, for some reason, I was just so annoyed by them. And maybe I was just in anti-social form but t was tough being with them. I was so glad to get home at the end of the day and know I wouldn't have to see any of them until Friday.

And the Bariatric support group was a nasty mess yesterday. My God, every other post was a complaint about surgery going wrong and political comments and just so messy I almost wanted to sign off Facebook again. I like the group because it's usually uplifting and positive. Full of weight loss stories and food suggestions and advise and happiness. When it turns into the mess it was yesterday, man oh man. Makes me reluctant to do surgery with all the horror stories and makes me want to hide in bed for a week.

Today I went back on the group and it wasn't as negative a vibe this time. Wow. Blow out. 

Great news: Monsta X is releasing a Korean album in November and an English album (their second) in December. Two albums in two months. Thank God I got a second job because these boys are expensive. But I'm so happy. I love their music and this is pure joy.

When Life Gives You Lemons, Pucker Up

 Dear Youse Guys,

I did not think that working that extra job would kick my ass. I think it's just doing some driving again, working with people and although it's a simple strain (it really is an easy job) it is still work and therefore exhausting. Also, the Waimea gym where I'm at 2 days a week is a goddamned wind tunnel so we're all bundled up but still freezing, everything is blowing away and that weather exhausts a person.

So I had appointments with the Bariatric group's dietician and nurse practitioner. I LOVED the dietician. We talked about the surgery and she answered my page full of written questions. The APRN (Nurse Practitioner) visit wasn't as great but that was because she was going over my chart and there's more tests and all I have to do. (Liver Ultrasound, start Vitamin D, redo certain labs).

The best part though was the after visit summary they sent me which gave me the list of things I need to do which one of the things on the list was: do not gain weight. That just tickled me and I don't know why but I loved it.

So I did have a bad eating moment. I went to the store and bought chips and cookies. I was unfortunately starving and exhausted and those two together have been the downfall of greater people than me. There was a feeling in my head that started in my belly: I was hungry. Instead of being smart and figuring out a healthy way to deal with it, I went to the store and let my needy side out which became 2 packs of Oreos, a bag of Fritos, a bag of Cheetos and gummy bears.

1 pack of Oreos is gone (I gave it to someone else). The Fritos, I hate to admit, were almost all eaten (I was hangry). The others are in a drawer. I have to think about this and come up with a better understanding of why I want this food, will it satisfy me, can I toss it? Can I replace it? Does it provide me with something I can or can't get elsewhere?

It's weird because I can make good choices and I can make bad ones. Really understanding the why of the bad choices, and why so much? In that moment of being hungry and needy, did I slip into a younger skin that saw the hunger as a gaping hole that couldn't be filled? What would have been a better choice that would have satisfied the huger and the teenager with the hole inside? 

How will I ever give that younger girl what she needs so she stops asking for it?

Obviously one of the points of this journey is to understand these questions and try to figure out some of these answers. It's hard. Which is also probably another reason I'm so damned exhausted.

Round-Up

 Hello Friends,

a few things happening in life recently worth mentioning (at least in my mind because let's face it, I have The Lori Show running in my head constantly but I'm truly its only viewer). But anyway...

I started a second job. 3 days a week I'm doing county Covid testing. It's a temp position through January unless they extend the funding. It's easy and enjoyable. Gets me out of the house, I get to see and interact with people and they pay me. So it really is all good. And it's coming just when I was worrying about buying Christmas gifts.

The march toward surgery goes forward. Tomorrow I have appointments with a dietician and physician and next week with the psychologist. I also have a sleep study scheduled in 2 weeks which is so weird. I know I don't have sleep apnea but because of my size I have to do the sleep study. And of course I will because I want the damned surgery.

I'm watching Love Is Blind: Brazil on Netflix. That's the show where people get engaged without seeing each other and then have 4 weeks together before deciding whether or not to get married. The first show in America, two of the couples remained married. I'll be amazed if any of these couples survive. Brazil certainly is not as feminist and the men have some macho shit going on that's going to bite them in the ass.

Not reading much right now. Essays from Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay. She's brilliant and her writing is assessable. The third Paladin book in T.L. Kingfisher's series dropped and I started it and it's good but I haven't picked up my Kindle in awhile. 

Anyway, that's what's going on in LoriLand. 

Where Were the Squids?

 Hello Friends,

there's so much going on right now so let's take a moment to talk about something important that's taken over the news recently: The Squid Game.

Did you watch it?

So Squid Game is on Netflix and it's a South Korean series (9 episodes) and it's bloody as hell. Completely engrossing. Fascinating. Made me curse, cry and and cringe numerous times.

Premise: super rich assholes who have no interest in life invite 456 people to a remote location to play childhood games. The winner will win 456 billion won. (Won = $$) The drawback: when you lose a game, you die.

So the first game is played and half the people are killed and everyone says "WTF! Get me outta here!" and they all leave but then they all come back to play and they cheat, lie, show their horrible sides and even their heroic sides until the last man is left standing.

Doesn't sound very good, does it?

So why is it as popular as it is? Because the absolute despair, the crippling lives these people are living that brings them to this place where the only options are death or a 1 in 456 chance of winning a childhood game is a little bit too close to many of us. When every day you wake up and think you can't do it anymore, or you're at your limit and then something else happens...

And the fascination of watching even the best person cheat to stay alive. When you invest in a character and then see what happens when they're out of options, out of chances. Because you hope for a character to survive and they don't. And some of them break your heart because they don't betray their own hearts.

It's manipulative as hell. It's also well made and engrossing. There's a sub plot with a cop which is super uninteresting but the actor is gorgeous (he starred in the K-romance "Romance is a Bonus Book" so even though his story was yawn, it was nice to watch him.)

Anyway, if you can stand blood and want to get lost in darkness, Squid Game is perfect. Carolyn: stay away from it.

This Blog

 I think that there's a person or two reading this who isn't my red-headed BFF in Alabama. And if you've known me/me & Carol/Carol for any amount of time then you know this blog has been around for years and it's been a real roller coaster for us.

Sometimes we write. A lot of times we don't. And recently it's been Lori writing and Carolyn posting a sentence in response. And I wanted to explain that I'm choosing to write my blog posts as a Dear Carolyn because they're personal. It feels righter to me to address them to someone when I'm talking about my body image, my weight, the infection under my belly.

I hope there isn't someone out there who feels that because it says Dear Carolyn that they aren't invited to be part of the conversation. As long as the conversation isn't you fat fuck, go on a diet! then all if good and all are welcome.

And Carolyn's small responses are to let me know she read the post. We have long conversations daily in which we talk about... well... everything including these posts, our families, our frustrations and why Chris Helmsworth will always be the superior Chris although Chris Pine is a sexy ass Chris for the ages. She doesn't write longer responses because she's doing it on her Kindle and it's a little limiting sometimes.

Anyway, if you're out there, I hope you feel welcome. If you don't: let me know. I can certainly make it feel more inclusive if you feel excluded.

Love to you all. Except anyone who thinks Chris Pratt is the superior Chris because you're insane and need to go sit on the naughty step for awhile.

My 600 Pound Life

 Dear Carolyn,

I never had any interest in watching this show previously but then recently you mentioned it and now I'm addicted. It's the background soundtrack of my life currently.

So yesterday when I was watching, a woman of 300+ pounds bought new clothes and fit in a smaller size than I do which wigged me out (as you know because I sent pictures and enraged text messages). And then chilled because clothing size is so subjective anyway. I fit in anything from X-L to 4X. Material, cut and country of origin have a lot of differences with sizing.

But I was thinking further about the show and my emotional reaction to it and finally realized why it was so much to me: because I weigh 600 pounds too!

Of course I don't. As of this morning I weigh 217.4 pounds. But there's no difference between a 600 pound woman and myself in my mind. In my mind, we're the same size. We walk alike, eat alike, look alike. I am all stomach and thighs and flapping upper arms. I have skin infections from my skin rubbing against other skin, my knees are shot and I can eat a bag of potato chips at one sitting without a thought.

My ankles and feet swell sometimes. I smell from the infections and the weight. I never look good or bad: I just look fat. Lately with the progression of knee pain and degeneration, I walk in small, small steps because walking has become very problematic.

So logic tells me that I'm not 600 pounds. I don't have lymphedema, I can see my knees, my heart is healthy. I'm not diabetic, my cholesterol is okay and yadda, yadda, yadda. But oh that pesky self-image. That crazy skewed viewpoint that a 600 pound woman is my twin. That I'm so out of control and so fat that no one would see the difference between us because I don't.

With that kind of body dysmorphia it's not a surprise that I'm falling into the rabbit hole of obsession. I know better but I don't feel it. My mind is both right and wrong and confusing the fuck out of me.

I'm really pleased that part of this journey includes psychological guidance. It's something to think that I'm 63 years old and have been dealing with body image since my teens and am no closer to moving ahead. Maybe I never will. Maybe this is the journey to put it to rest. I really don't know. All I do know is that I'm glad it's finally on the table and being addressed.

Lori

Am I A Bitch? Yeah...

 Dear Carolyn,

so I told you this morning that a nurse I used to work with was reaching out to get information to call in a prescription for herself for Ivermectin cause she has Covid. And you know how hard I laughed? I'm still laughing. She refused to get vaccinated and now she's refusing to get worms. (LMAO!!!)

So I shared the information with my boss (with attendant snark, of course) and he immediately reached out to her and started to get us working on getting the nurse the Regeneron antibody injections. I'm laughing and the doctor is curing.

Boy did I feel like a bitch.

(We did get her the treatment, by the way.) 

So... just like I watch Hoarders when I need to clean and am uninspired (boy does that show make you need to clean immediately), I'm watching My 600 Pound Life when I need to do my exercises. 15 minutes with weights and pedaling as long as I can. The pedaling was a no-go today, my knees really hurt too much.

Anyway, little else to say. Thank God it's Friday. Looking forward to doing some sewing, not working and hopefully reading.

Love ya baybee.

Self Care/Shelf Care

 Good morning Carolyn!

Well, I discovered a huge drawback to working from home: the 4am phone call on the office phone. Yeah, an insurance company from Texas who doesn't understand time differences. I didn't answer the phone at the time of course, but boy, did that surprise me.

I got your gifts yesterday and I am tickled raspberry. Which is the color of the drink mixer you sent. And possibly the flavor of some of the vitamins. I'm so grateful. Having a small collection/hoard prepared for post-surgery just lifts my spirits so much. It's another form of self-care. 

Once I saw a Twitter thread and the question was "What's the most Luxe thing in your life?". I wanted to live in that thread it was so wonderful. Because for all the people who mentioned trips to Europe, the majority were talking about silk pajamas or charcuterie boards. The every day self-care that we do to remind ourselves we're worth silky fabrics against our skin, pretty lunches and the pleasure of surroundings that whisper to our souls.

I know that you know what I'm saying. We've sent each other so many pictures of our shelves and our walls. The colors, the dragons, the flowers. The small things that you look at and it's a small breath of pleasure.

Self care (for me) is also a way to gauge my mental health. Putting my moisturizer on in the morning, painting my nails. These are small things but big tells. I'm working hard right now to remember to do my nails and use my skin care products. It's a way to show that I'm taking care of myself. Not doing these small things are sometimes easy ways to see I'm not feeling good. Not taking care of self = not liking self.

It is something I really celebrate that we both do. When you tell me that you prepared a salad with all the ingredients you love, I think Carolyn is caring for herself and I'm so happy. When you talk about your favorite painting on the wall and how it makes you feel, my soul celebrates.

There are so many facets to self care. And it's tied so tightly to our daily mental health. That is something I try to remain aware of and always work on. If your surroundings are neat, your clothes clean, your items put away and all the small things are smoothed down nd not creating jagged surfaces in your brain: then you are truly taking the best care of yourself. It's a good thing to strive for.

My 216 Pound Life

 Dear Carolyn,

well now that you mentioned it, I'm watching my 600 Pound Life. Wow. It's super hard to watch someone go from over 600 pounds to under 200 and still be so unhappy. 

You know, all fat people think that if they just lose the weight then everything would be fine. Obviously it doesn't work like that. They're obviously healthier. But it isn't a miracle. We all want miracles..

Speaking of miracles, Carolyn: my brother said he'll happily go with me to Oahu for surgery! Do you believe it? I'm so happy. I really wanted a family member with me and he didn't even hesitate when I asked. I'm so fucking happy!!!

So I finally looked up my insurance guidelines for bariatric surgery. So here's the thing that scares me: I have no underlying health conditions. I have hypertension but no diabetes. No sleep apnea (but I have to have the sleep study per insurance guidelines). The only way I qualify for surgery is with my BMI. You have to have a BMI of 40 or over. Mine is 44. 

So that's what's bothering me: if I start the pre-op diet now (which I feel like I should be doing) and start exercising then I'll lose weight. And would I be able to drop under the 40 BMI? Will I not be able to do the surgery?

I'm Wigging Out!!

 Carolyn my dear,

I think I'm buying a wig. OMG! I'm cracking myself up. It was so much fun to go through all the Amazon pages and imagine the fun of putting a different color on daily and just having fun. You know, that's what's missing in so much of what we do: the fun.

It's an interesting notion, if you think about it. There are so many moments daily where you can stop and take a moment of gratitude, or pride or pleasure and that's your day. But fun. The joy of being silly or inventive or just doing that thing that makes you laugh because it's good fun.

So this weekend has been about getting things done. The dryer is finally fixed so 3 loads of laundry got done. I cleaned my closet so it now reflects more of what I want. I put my beginning Bariatric hoard into plastic so it's organized. I redid my food log and my activity log. I went to the dump. I cleaned the floor. I'm really pleased with everything that's done but I can't say there was any fun in it.

WIGS

This was fun. Especially with the knowledge that post surgery you're practically guaranteed hair loss and that isn't fun at all. This is such a nice way to acknowledge that but to do it with pizazz.

Anyway, I've been thinking about looks/body/appearance and having some thoughts. A lot more thoughts than I want to try and discuss in this post. But following Bariatric support groups and blogs, it's hard not to notice that a huge part of the journey for a lot of women is to wear fashion. To dress like the other women. It's about being able to blend in, something you never feel like you do when you're fat. When you're fat you always stand out from the crowd. Your size is a neon light. Even if nobody is looking at you, when you're fat you know the entire world is staring at you. And judging harshly.

(We judge ourselves so severely, we can't believe the world isn't doing the same. The greater truth is that when you're fat. you're invisible because you're not the proper kind of feminine. If a man doesn't want to put his penis in you, you basically cease to exist.)

And my mind starts to skip along and I wonder if I really want to blend in? Do I want to disappear? Do I want to blend into the crowd and find a new way to not be seen?

Would that be any fun?

Anyway, I don't have any easily found answers right now. I'm in the beginning of this journey and asking the questions. There's a lot of questions.

I love you friend. We'll talk later.

Starting the Hoard

 Dear Carolyn,

I should start taking pictures and posting them here. Give you an idea of where I'm at, what I'm doing...

Anyway, I got my first bariatric delivery from Amazon. 12 Premiere Protein Chocolate/Peanut Butter protein shakes and 10 Lemon Pepper Tuna packets. I'll be living on Protein Shakes for a long while before and after surgery. From the sounds of it, protein shakes and supplements become a mainstay of a person's diet. So I'm planning on buying plenty.

I have to keep a food journal which I started a couple of days ago. I really don't have enough protein in my diet. 

Last night Myrna made pork chops, scalloped potatoes and salad for dinner. It was very delicious and very filling and a little heart breaking to think that this is going away soon. Soon, of course, being relative. 

OMG! I just got my appointment for EKG and Pulmonary Function test for next week Thursday. But I have to have a Covid test on Monday (yeesh and yuck). This is Lori pushing her agenda forward. 

This is a good moment. You know the roller coaster that emotions are so when things fit well, it's so special. That's how I feel right now. 

The electrical problem we had is hopefully fixed which means I get to spend this weekend doing my laundry. I'm ready to wash everything I own. You know what a pain this has been so yay to it getting fixed. 

Oh God Carolyn, I have to get a nasal swab Covid test. No matter how nice life is, they're going to poke my brain with an xtra large q-tip.  LOL!!

Lori

The Rabbit Hole of Obsession

 Dear Carolyn,

I've been lost in a rabbit hole of bariatric surgery information. Joining online support groups, watching TikTok bariatric videos, reading articles and books and rewatching videos sent from my bariatric team.

And last night I melted down.

I knew it was coming. Obsession like that is a combination of needing to become a personal expert, needing to prepare and needing to hide. As long as I'm "doing my research" then I'm not dealing with the real issues. You know: like having the first surgery of my life or not being able to eat. Or having a future as a skinny person.

Or what will I do with all the excess skin?

So last night the lights went out and my brain was banging crazy in my head and I needed to slow it all down. So I put on Psyche by JooHoney/Jooheon and I cried. I cried because I'm terrified. I cried because I don't want to fuck this up. I cried because I love Patty melts and I'll bet I won't be eating those anymore. I cried because I can't imagine what my future looks like and I feel paralyzed.

I'm trying to power forward. To be as prepared as possible. Think ahead, plan ahead. Remember that I'm doing this to get surgery on my knees and stop living in pain. To be mobile again. To walk down stairs while facing forward (yeah, I can't do that).

But then I think about how I always sabotage myself and how will I do that in this instance? Can I ot do that this time/ How will I know I've got this? 

I probably have about 3 months before surgery. That's a lot of time t prepare. To hopefully calm down. To get a plan in place. I'll take advantage of any therapy/counseling offered and I'll definitely continue post surgery.

Oh yeah... and I need (for myself) to take some pics in my undies to start recording the journey. Stay away from your text messages for awhile. I don't promise not to share.

Lori

How Much Intestines Do We Need Anyway?

 Dear Carolyn,

it's a good thing I don't believe in portends or signs or I'd be in big freaking trouble. I had my first bariatric appointment today and then on the way home my car tire shredded (literally shredded) and I was abandoned on the side of a road with no cell phone service) (Angels everywhere though and people did try to help).

Anyway, I will be getting the surgery. There's a choice of 2: full gastric bypass or gastric sleeve. I need to have more conversations with other people to know which to do. But I'm figuring by the end of January it should happen. 

I don't know how to feel about the whole thing. I mean, we both know that losing weight is something I can do. Keeping weight off is not. The surgery will take the weight off and if I'm willing to work with the team and d the real work of taking care of me, then the weight should stay off. Which means knee surgery in my future and a visit to Japan to see Mollie and walk the wild streets.

But weight Carolyn. Talking to a woman about weight is more than numbers or intentions or dietary misdeeds and good doings. It's a lifetime of never being pretty enough, skinny enough, worthy enough. Gaining weight as a teenager was a way to create a boundary of fat to keep my father's hands off me. It was a wall to hide behind. It was the most necessary and hated part of me.

Can I be thin? I don't know how to be thin. If I don't have my buffer of fat then what do I rely on? If I'm rejected I lose the convenient excuse of my weight to blame. When I fail then I fail, not my weight.

God, it's a ridiculous door to open. That room where weight resides is the worst room in the house. Created as one thing, turned into a half dozen other. It's a million excuses, even more heartbreaks and it's comfortable. So comfortable to have this fat to hide behind.

You and I will have a lot of conversations about this one, honey babe. I'd suggest you bring snacks, you might need it  ;)

Lori

My Sexuality is Marie Kondo Asking: "Does it Spark Joy?"

 Dear Carolyn,

I can't say it's been a long time since we talked because I just hung up the phone after talking to you. But there's so many changes from day to day and I'm sitting in my bedroom right now and wishing we had so much more time to talk and really say... everything.

I've been spending the last few days living amidst physical chaos as I'm trying to organize my bedroom into a working space, hobby space and living space. That's a lot to do to one little room. But now that I'm working from home it feels like my bedroom is becoming a lot more an office space and I don't want that to be its definition. 

Transitioning to working from home has been really interesting. But that is a blog post in itself. I think where I'm feeling the most lost is trying to bring my hobbies/interests into my space. Also because I don't know exactly where my interests currently lay. I  don't feel overly motivated to sew, I haven't had a new pig skull to decorate in ages and I fucked up my knitting project and need some help to get it back on track.

I did find a fabric stash (yay cleaning!) that I had plans to make something for Mollie and I'm thinking that maybe I should noodle on that. 

Anyway, I still have some more reorganizing to do in my closet and then I think I'm done. I should probably fold my pants and put them in a drawer instead of hang them and then I can display my purses. I might now have the 100s that I covet but I do like what I have and it would give me pleasure to have them out.

I'll talk to you tomorrow, friend. I meet the bariatric surgeon and his team in the morning and I have a feeling that's going to be interesting/