Dances with DS

Well the countdown is on it’s way.  I must be out of here at 4am - and I am NOT a morning person.  What fills me with dread is I am a  7-8am regular as clockwork toilet goer.  This means it’s going to either be on the flight , or at Schipol Airport in the hour that I have to change my flights.  Oh horrors.  I am sure I will cope but as any DSer will tell you this is not easy stuff.

It’s been the mother of all days.  I woke up with Luke & Kate having a right go at eachother.  Yelling and banging and shouting.  If they were not adults I swear I would have spanked them both.  Then my washing machine that had been at least doing half cycles completely packed up leaving me with a hefty pile of handwashing. I confess, pathetic as it is,  I did cry.  Thank god no one sees me when I cry I am good at doing it privately mainly because I go all blotchy and red and puffy. At the time I don’t care a jot but in the aftermath I am pleased only me sees me.  It’s not fair - some woman cry and they look all dramatic and oddly beautiful & delicate - not me!

Handwashing is easy when one is strong and fit but I still ache in odd places and it was rough. I am knackered and my patience is thin on the ground. Then I lost my Zenni dog. Panic filled me as he had not been seen for several hours. Suddenly I hear this croaky barking from the office - I had locked him in poor baby. He had barked himself quite hoarse!

Pete has just called - his flight is delayed - instead of 9 pm he will be home at midnight.  I am not charmed by this but there is booger all I can do, except try to curb my annoyance.  I sometimes feel his business rules our life.  It’s probably the number one complaint of most women my age and I am a little irked that I am so profoundly ordinary in this respect.

I admire how Pete chases the dreams full tilt and recently it looks like this hard work might just pay off.   So I have mixed feelings.  I think I spent more one on one time with Pete when I was in hospital than I have most of this year, sadly. Fun is a word I believe in - for me it is unanimous with Life.  Don’t get me wrong I realise one cannot live a fun life all the way…mmmmm …or can one???!
I remember so well how before we came here we had this idea we would see our parents every year without fail. It is’nt like that in reality though. Now they are getting vulnerable and I am often wracked with awful feelings that perhaps I made the wrong move after all to live so far away from our family.  It’s all useless - I can’t go and live in a haze of crime & violence but I still feel it.
There is the remotest possibility he will make it to CT  to see  his parents while I am there  - but I hold no store by the  vagueness of it all. I don’t like the vagueness because it feels like a no without it being said. I verge on the mother of all irrational tantrums over this I really do (which is why the vagueness in the first place I suppose). In a plethora of optimism which is likely very misplaced, I packed a suitcase for him…just in case…dutch hope. I feel so gutted for Mum & John that they have to settle for the second prize(me!).
Well there we are - stress is not pretty. I almost can’t wait for that feeling of relief when one is on the plane and away.

On a brighter note I have done a bit better in the eating department today.  Pleased about that as tomorrow will no doubt be poor again with all the carby airplane food. I should pack snacks but I just have not had any time to do so.  I’ll take a bottle of milk with me and a bag of nuts and hope for the best.

My family is waiting for me. My mum has installed a panic button in the flat and the exitement in her voice that I am coming makes every moment of the pre packing stress  worth it.   I am not a good ‘packer’.  Disorganised and I usually overpack irrelevant things.  This time though I think I have it licked.  3  Tops & 3  pairs  of pants  -  a dress  and 2  cardigans.  I have birthday gifts too for my mum…it’s always hard being far away from her on her birthday  & I buy presents for her but don’t send them as the postal system there means too many parcels go ‘missing’. Note the wry euphimism.  People say it is bad there - very very bad.   A friends son saw  6 friends buried in two years…crime & accidents  take their toll.   Hard for people to stay rational in such circumstances.  People tell stories but it all falls on deaf international ears really.  Anyway I shall feel for myself how it is when I get there. I shall try to focus more on the mountains and my family than on the ever present politics.

Foodwise I am appalling right now - in the rush I find it hard to sit down to eat a proper meal.  Plus my appetite goes on the blink the minute I am stressed.  I have possibly lost more weight over this last week (my clothes have that baggy feelin’)but it is only due to not eating properly and I will ensure I put it back on in SA once the pace is more relaxed.  I did last week have one very good eating day & noticed the following day that my panni was flat (well almost!)- amazing. How can it be? I wondered if my protein is way up there if this means my body retains no water - I wondered if my panni is a place water accumulates…I shall never know!

Typical of life in Colman corner - Pete had to fly for a day trip to Holland today to give a presentation…perfect timing!  He’ll be knackered tonight and of course my flight is at 4 am tomorrow… it’s all a bit stressy and cutting the old fine lines. Such is life.  Just hope it all goes well for him today.
Well, off to do the last round of packing - can’t wait to be in SA tomorrow. Will update my blog when I return. 

I am in worry mode today.  I am dead worried by the lack of care given to those of us who are in pain after our WLS. My own experience of being in the local hospital still haunts me. One wrong diagnoses guessed after another. And all the time this unbearable pain as my bowel is twisting.

And me begging for proper diagnostic tools and nothing being done. Nada. Zip. Oh, I lie I got a painkiller and some useless x-rays.  My litany of CT scan needs fell on deaf ears and not once did anyone ask me the exact nature of my WLS surgery.  I thought this was just my unlucky time. I was so stressed out it bears not thinking about. If Mr Patel had not come to my rescue I simply don’t know what would have happened but I do know it would not have been pretty.

Seems I am not the only one who was unheard.  I know of someone right now going through the incredibly stressful motions of trying to get adequate help. Recently I have had quite a few e-mails from people trying to get help but hitting blank walls and this at their most vulnerable. One day someone is going to die due to this negligence on the part of people that are meant to help us.

I don’t know what we can do about it?  Is there a way we can make a plan to ensure our safety in the hands of the NHS?  Those who go abroad are particularly vulnerable to being mishandled in a system that is frankly just not interested in our surgeries nor the complications we might get from them.  I find it appalling.

So I am a worry wart today. There must be a way to ensure all WLS people get proper care in potential emergency situations.  I have to think long and hard and pray for inspiration.

On more domestic notes I can’t believe my washing machine has packed up!   The thing is jinxed it ALWAYS goes odd  before I am about to go away on a major trip.  Off to the laundry with me tomorrow - oh joy.

Thinking on my nutrition today. Things have changed for me since I fell into 8 stone range. I want to eat less. That’s a big one for me because I love food (well, when I am not appetiteless). I had my DS to EAT & ENJOY eating. Now I find I am definately eating less. I am happy with a 3/4 plate of food. I am realising eating less does not mean I enjoy it less. I think it is interesting because at this weight my body simply does not need as much in terms of calories. It kind of supports my pigden theory that when one is large the body is demanding those cals. When one is small the need is much less.

I could eat more because my restriction is currently gentle but I just have no need. It’s fascinating to me how my DS guides me so much. I really would love to see papers about metabolism because mine is so vastly different from my obese days it is just too uncanny. Something in the body chemistry factory is going on!
I have recently been adding fortified lattes to my diet to ensure the protein needs are met so that I am freer to eat veggies which I love. I do very much enjoy what I eat. I won’t get tired of actually enjoying my food - when I was obese I did NOT enjoy my food because I knew it had a comeback - the dreaded weight gain. Now I eat and I am relaxed. I know it will be okay.

Recently some private e-mails asking about my eating habits, so here’s the shortlist: (bear in mind it’s only my experience of things)
I am still making varied choices - I still eat in the old habitual order :

protein first - then complex carbs - then other - it makes me happy to see savvy dieticians finally recommending this to WLS people - thumbs up from me!

I aim for protein through food. I have aversion to manufactured drinks except when things are dire - some are stuffed with colorants, carbs and chemicals. There are times however when they are very useful.
Milk is my protein drink. It is a wonderful natural health giver. I often fortify it with marvel. I flavour it with all manner of things and never tire of it.
I don’t over eat - what for? There is always a next meal coming. My plate is never piled high. My plate seldom exceeds being iro of 75% full. I still occasionally wait an hour and have a seriously decadent dessert!

I am concerned with fibre for DS bowel health and try to eat it in the form of complex carbs and I try for 6-8 portions a day.

I vary my protein as much as possible to benefit from it but I still get fixated on certain foods till I get sick of them!

I am trying with the water but not truly winning at the moment.

Fats: some surgeons are pro others are not. I reckon the body will guide us. My body tolerates fats very very well - eases bm’s, keeps skin soft, helps absorption of ADEK and helped me pitch myself a high metabolic cycle. I am for them if they are tolerated well. Try  coconut oil, olive oil, nut oils & Udo’s oil.  Hydrogenated chippie type fats I am against except in a limited way. These will cause diahorrea and bloating and even embarressing leakage. It’s not whether we eat fats as much as what type of fats we are eating.

My vitamin regimine is 12 Vita4Life a day. Twice a week I supplement with an extra 2500grams of calcium citrate/Vit D/Mag. This is because of my dexa not looking great. I’m taking action now in the hopes I can stall things but I need more info yet to determine if it is lack of D causing my prob…in which case I will do the sunbed briefly once a week. I can’t do this dose every day as it definately jams my bowels up and so on those days I drink as much liquid as I can & often use Udo’s oil.

I have sugar. In my view sugar is better than sweetners. I don’t go overboard - I have a threshhold for the stuff and I stay loosely in that. I also like honey - the dark kind. I developed a need for it after my surgery and I think it is a wonder food. I was very thin after surgery - possibly in the lower 50 kilo’s at my worst and so I took it neat without blinking.
My personal motto is ‘everything in moderation’. It was just a barstard finding out what moderation actually is ! But I think I know now!

I am still pulling mouldy bits of choc out of drawers or forgetting I bought it in the first place - who would have thought an old chocoholic could ever have so much reform!!!

On other notes - Pain is much better again - it’s decidely up & down but I forget it was 10 months before I felt fully human after my DS. I am half sorted for CT both the headstuff and the suitcase - looking so forward to it now.

Aaaaaargh - I used to simmer and stew when people found it amusing to rhyme my name. Mind you my worst was thick blokes who used to come out with the spectacular gem of : ’so where’s Tarzan then?’ If looks could kill mine would have.

But Jane the pain kind of sums me up right now…or today anyway. The blasted pain is upon me again. I don’t know what the devil caused it - I suspect it’s the result of the marathon washing scenario I undertook yesterday in a lather of anal perfectionism. I adore my family but they just leave me with a merry mountain of discarded twisted clothing until my passage to the trusty old washing machine is blocked and I panic. And so yesterday I bent and put piles in the wash machine and tumbledrier in a bid to become at least partially a domestic goddess.

It has done me no good but what else to do? I can’t live in a mount everest of filthy clothes.

It’s a battle enough with my lot just to get the basics seen too - I often give up and get on with things myself - the garden for example. (Yup - panicking about that too right now! will the weeds win the day & take over completely…..* sigh * )

I also have this deep need to leave my home when I go to SA in good order. I would be very embarrassed if I died to know I left behind a home that is a fright.

The pain alarms me horribly even though I feel it is just muscular. I feel ratty and on edge today because of it. I am also poo gazing again. It’s a ghastly habit brought on by fear of the unknown. If I saw blood I would completely freak out. As it is the gifts from the bowel gods are all floating merrily as they should.

I shall have to rest today as my body is screaming no go. I think my family are tired of me talking about pain too…they get the glazed look and sympathy is low on the ground. I think they reckon I should ‘be over it’ by now. I wish.

Late afternoon popped in to see my old man. He amazes me by his lucidity and health. Tomorrow is his birthday & I thought on how few times I have been able to wish him the best. I always feel the darned absences that haunt us all.  How I missed him as a kid. When I got married and again when my children  were  born.  Birthdays that vapourised on us.  So it was good to see him.  Bought him a folding chair and a bottle of whiskey & an orchid. He loves plants.

What makes me smile is how we have things in common. Both Magpies. Both antique lovers - specifically oriental stuff. Spent time showing him e-bay. Ate a slice of delicious cake baked by Aggie - his wife.  It was a good afternoon.

Pete & I decided to stop at the pub in Chilworth. Run by South Africans they make a mean DS friendly braai(BBQ)…a plate of steak, a hefty juicy lamb chop and a great big piece of south african traditional sausage. I can never eat it all though I try darned hard so my sausage is waiting in the fridge for tomorrow.  Potato salad and coleslaw - mouthwatering. Views over fields and hills. Sunshine. Lot’s of people milling about sporting the eksent(accent)!  I felt confused - was I in South Africa!?  Had I arrived?  Already? I had a rare glass of red wine swear it knocked me - only half a glass and I felt floaty.

So a lovely relaxing day. Need to create more times like this.

I still have some low grade pain but things are improving. I forgot how long this recovery lark can take. I get mighty frustrated with it as I have so many things I want to do and this pain story has made me aware again that I am still frail. I’m back to resting several hours in the afternoon because I am tired quite often too just recently. I actually feel quite a woess for admitting this - and it probably tires others to hear me gander on about it. I think most people expect we will be up and humming after a few weeks but it just is not like that.
Last night watched a telly program about a woman who had lost a huge amount of weight through Atkins based eating an loads of exercise. Her journey was about plastic surgery. I am so squeamish I could barely watch the cutting as they did her stomach lift.

One brave brave lady.

It made me think on my own body. No way we can afford surgery right now but one day we will possibly remortgage to get the funds. At one stage I considered a full body lift - but now I am no longer so brave. I have looked at many outcomes and I am not convinced always by the aesthetics. Many waists are lost and sometimes the body looks visibly shorter to me. Sometimes I wonder if it is not just a skin removal procedure (and wether this should be made clear to those with expectations) as the aesthetics can be so darned dubious. I ask myself where will I draw the line?

I think for me - if I ever get it done I am going to go for minimal invasion. I can live with saggy arms, thigh and even though my butt hurts to sit on as the pads have gone south - I can live with that too. I’m thinking a scar revision if required later on and a very careful tummy tuck - one that does not involve cutting away too much nor too much pulling down of the flesh. Just enough to get the panni flat. My belly button is deformed now from the cuts through it. I have great difficult cleaning it a finniky job that involves surgical alcohol and earbuds and some cussing! So perhaps it could be neatened up and made easier to clean - but not the entire repositioning enchilada. I think I will be extremely conservative in all. I will do the boobs too - but I don’t want implants and I want a scarless job if at all possible. So I will need to look for a genius surgeon to do the job through the nipples. I have gone from being 42 DD to being 36 B - but I like small boobies and because I also like to wear low slung jewellery it suits me fine.  I’d like the flap under my neck sorted but again I could live with it.

I decided to bite the bullet and get some botox in South Africa - just to chill my forehead out! I’m nervous about it (will I have a deer in headlight expression on my face -lol!)but I am into putting up a fight with mother nature. I will age entirely disgracefully and then in my 60’s I will let go and live with her in harmony. But until then I’ll do what it takes (within reason) to minimise aging.

Well just fleeting thoughts on the body beautiful. Main thing is mine is here and working pretty well all in all. I know this pain will go and I know I will utilise my body to be in the flow of life again fully - soon! (impatient person that I am!)

I have been disgusting today & eaten two krispy kremes. One is fine with me but two is pushing the limit! I plan to never again buy the dozen box!

I woke up this morning and got out of bed careful to hunch my body over and avoid the pain. Then slowly straightened out and realised what was pain is now only a tweak. I am so happy I could cry. It must have been a pullled muscle after all. It is still achey and I am not right yet but so so bearable compared with yesterday.

Odd how what used to be an easy thing for me - tidying my garden is now a dubious challenge. It’s all a bit frustrating - I want to do things but am very limited.

It’s so hard to know when to take action with these things. Everything is pretty much as it happens and even though one might have advised a thousand people when one is in the boat oneself all knowledge departs. There are just not parameters of ‘normal’ to compare against and one is out in the dark stubbing ones toes. Always makes me smile wryly when people boldly state (but quite rightly!) in relation to WLS issues -

‘why on earth did you not take action sooner!’

Many reasons - for example, do any of us like to think we are in trouble? Denial is a strong instinct at these times because just beneath it is a whole lot of fear. As for me I always optimistically think things can only get better!

It is the most glorious day down here - sunshine & more sunshine…I hope we will take a drive and perhaps stop at a pub somewhere to have a drink (in my case a J2O).

Today I will be heavily focussed on my protein - have just whizzed up some nectar drink and will have it on top of a good food day. I don’t have much appetite again … it may just be the heat!

Added: Just back from a superb drive through the countryside. Sun on my arms and I feel better for it.  Been downing the nectar today and plan a BBQ tonight with my family - just chicken, a few chops and a potato salad & green salad.  I am quite hungry now so hopefully will get a nice protein boost.   Still achey but think this will take a few more days to heal.

Today I have had pain.  It is around my scar on the upper part of my body & I rate it 6-7 on the pain scale. Not urgent enough to have me running to A&E but still scary.  I have taken paracetamol and it eases off somewhat. I think I may have overdone things a few days ago - I looked at my poor garden in a state and thought I would do some light weeding work in it.  I never lifted anything heavy but I did do a lot of bending. Not clever. I’m kicking myself for being impatient.  Today I have rested in bed a lot and tried to rest the sore area.

Worse than the pain are the fears - what if hernia number two has decided to erupt?  What if I need another surgery?…I don’t know that I feel strong enough to deal with it. I’m fraught with insecurity and have to curb my feeling that emotionally I might go entirely melodramatic on myself.  I want to curl up somewhere and sleep the fears off. I look at my family and I feel tearful. This is the downside of a surgery such as mine - we are perhaps more delicate than we wish to realise.

Hopefully this is just a scare and it will pass and I’ll be okay.  If it gets any worse even by a smidgen, I shall call my GP & possibly Mr P.  Knowing Mr P is there if I have real need is a solace to me at this time. I don’t feel so alone.  Fingers crossed  it is just a kind of muscular exhaustion of some kind or just pulled adhesions.

Does it ever end?

Thinking on societies global obsession with weight. Even when I was in Bangkok, home of teeny little women I saw signs of obsession in the form of billboards advertising the latest diet clinic. It seems no where in the world can we escape it. Perhaps remote rural areas are as yet untouched. I like to think somewhere it is okay to just be whatever size one is.

I think back to my obese days - how hard it was knowing the thoughts as someone looked me over…waiting - just waiting for the dreaded comments. I was permanently in ‘brace myself mode. I was always tense in social situations. It always came in one form or another…sometimes it was well meant ‘dieting’ advice and other times it was outright comment on my body. I would go home & weep out of frustration but also out of fear because I did not realise there was hope. This is a small sentence but to live in a hopelessness …to live in a deep unknowing - that is sorrow & that is fear. And it is why I continue daily to be on WLSinfo …because I shall never ever forget it.
For me then I just looked into the abyss mirror and saw myself becoming fatter and fatter . A very scary thought …as it was I was so physically impaired. My head was full of questions about how I could go on? And I had no dignity left. No confidence either.

Now in the 8 stone range I have arrived in a thinner body & to my shock I realise there is not going to be any respite. My weight remains of deep interest to those around me. Comments are still made but mostly they are positive. However usually my weight brings out a comparative streak - something I grapple with. I don’t want to upset other people. But sometimes I do.

It was my friend Sue who had the strongest insight - something I had felt but not verbalised. ‘Do you think it is that we stop obsessing so much so we notice just how much others do ?’ She said. I think exactly that.

It’s not that I am pure in this regard. Very recently during & after my obstruction surgery I have had obsession with the weight spiralling downhill and I have had some fears relating to it. But in the past few weeks I have worked my head around things and had come to a peace with my weight. I want to let it go. If I go up some or down some really at my stage it does not matter. I don’t want to be on the scales anymore. I don’t want to be constantly thinking about my weight. I had started to get off the obsession bus at very long last. I had begun - as testimony to my faith that I would actually truly be okay on the weight score to finally release from my wardrobe the larger clothes that I had kept there - sitting in reserve…because there was a part of me that thought one day I might need those sizes again.

While I was doing this I thought on all the times I used to lose but then regain and each time I gained more. And I thought this time it really is okay. I am never going back. Never ever. It’s not just wishful thinking. My DS is very in control…why should I go back to morbid obesity? I can start to let it all go for real.

I had quiet joy being able to release those clothes from the wardrobe prison. I had quiet release mentally/emotionally too.

Then I went to friends and it all went pear shaped with the partner of my friend making positive comments but comparing my slim figure to his partner. It was so awful. And suddenly I did not want my slimness because it was causing some one else discomfort…and I was so worried it would ruin our friendship because this person is a dear dear friend.
Anyway there is nowt I can do. Because I am not getting large again, period. I am in the body I have now. It is far from perfect…it is scarred, saggy, it is lined with wrinklies, but it is mine. And now it is a gift in my life not a curse and hated enemy. I still need to stand in it happily despite others obsession. It affects me now - but perhaps in time I will be able to just let all the comments glide over me and stand fully Jane. Body, mind & spirit all together at last? A final freedom from the obsession I have had so long that has always been unremittingly with me. I want to stop that bus and get off and walk away cheesily into the sunset with strains of vivaldi in the air!

This is the last hope I have. Wether it is achievable is highly debatable -lol.