I mentioned a while back that Steve and I were going to undertake a new weight loss program through one of our local hospitals. I also said that I would try not to talk about it that much. However, as it seems to be the thing that is currently taking over every aspect of my life right now, I'm going to talk about it today.
(Don't worry, I've already got someone on stand by to tell me to shut up if I talk about it too much! Haha!)
OK, so...
Almost three weeks ago, Steve and I went to our orientation meeting to learn about the program, receive our first batch of "food" (yes, that's in quotes, and I'll explain in a minute) and talk to the nurses, dietitian, and behaviorist to find out what is expected of us. Every single person we talked to is very enthusiastic about the program and how successful it is, so that was nice. We were given folders, lessons, appointments to see the different health professionals, and a month-long membership to the hospital's gym. (We already have a membership to that gym, although we haven't been in a while, but don't tell them that!) The program doesn't have a snazzy name. I don't know if it has a proper name at all, actually, unless you want to call it what I've referred to it as: Optifast800: Hell in a Juice Box.
So how does it work? Well, The very first, and apparently most important rule of the program is that for 16 weeks we are not allowed to eat. What's that you say? We aren't allowed to eat? That is crazy! Well, yes. Yes it is. But, that is, hand to God, the first thing that they told us. We are not allowed to eat anything.
Stop looking at me like that. I swear, it's the truth.
The dietitian said that to begin the process of losing weight, our digestive tracts needed to heal. Heal from what? Did someone tell him I'd been eating broken glass and staples again? I dunno, but food - and by that I mean solid, you-can-chew-it-food, is tearing us apart. I guess. Again, I don't know, because that part wasn't explained well, but we got the gist. No eating is allowed.
Well...shit. Ok, then.
What we are allowed to have is a series of liquid meals that either come already mixed in juice box form, or that come in a powder that we have to mix with water. We have chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry flavored shakes, and pouches of powdered soup (because we need sodium) that are either vegetable, chicken, or tomato flavored. The shakes kind of taste like watery protein drinks and the soup tastes
kind of like the pouches that come with ramen noodles, only thicker
(except for the tomato soup, which is horrible and indescribable except
by facial expression and grunts of disgust.) I'm not going to lie, none of it is very good, but it's balanced and portioned out depending on our situation and how much weight we need to lose. I get a total of 5 of these things a day. Eventually we will graduate to replacing one of our shakes with a meal
replacement bar. I'm not sure I'm going to remember how to chew! We can season our food with anything 10 calories or less, so we've learned to get creative. We can also have sugar free Jell-O for a treat. Whee. At any rate, all of this is so we can reset ourselves (?) and lose the weight that we need to lose. It was decided by the doctor that I need to lose 60 pounds. Honestly, I thought he'd tell me to lose more, so... silver lining!
So I haven't had solid food, except random sesame seeds that happen to be in spice mixes that we're allowed to use in our soup, in three weeks. I have not cheated on the program, even though I've been tempted! Unfortunately I haven't lost much weight at all. I have yelled at Steve twice. Not because I was mad at him, or because any of this is his fault, but because I'm having a hard time adjusting and he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm not proud of that, but it is what it is. I mean, I only have 3 things I enjoy these days and eating was one of them, now I don't have that, and I'm down to two of them! It's frustrating! Steve is very sanguine about everything and he's doing very well with all of this and has thus far lost a lot of weight. Sometimes I want to hit him with a shoe. Again, not his fault. Ok, maybe a little his fault! ; )
We have to attend weekly meetings, kind of like AA (we aren't
supposed to talk about anyone else in the program or what they say) and I was worried that it would be an all evening thing, but luckily I get to come home at 5:30 or so afterwards, so that was a relief. I've already had my first meeting with the behaviorist, and he seems like a pretty solid guy. I assume at some point I'll be in his office crying about something and have a breakthrough about why I like to eat so much. Who knows? I'll have to see either him, a nurse, or a doctor once a week from now until May. I'll also have to have blood work every two weeks until a point in this program where they deem it unnecessary, but I don't know when that is!
This week we start working with a personal trainer, and hopefully she will be able to help me know what I need to do physically not just to lose weight, but to help my body be healthier. I also told her I want to get to a point where I can run for funzies, so...we'll see how that goes. She seems to think I can do it, so why not?
There is a part of me that really isn't sure I'll make it all the way through, much less lose 60 pounds, but I really want to succeed. Not just to lose the weight, but to stick to something that is very difficult. I'm not generally a quitter, but damn, this program is tough! I also want to make sure I don't do anything to deter Steve from succeeding, and I know me doing this along with him is very helpful.
I'm currently making a kind of video diary of the process, so if I keep up with that, one day in the distant future, I'll show you how much "Fun" I've been having during all of this! All I can ask is that you keep your fingers crossed for me, and maybe say a prayer for Steve! Haha!
God, I'm hungry.
Monday, January 29, 2018
Monday, January 22, 2018
RANDOM ACTS OF BLOGGING
1) You guys, I got my hair cut the other day. It was going to have to be a pretty drastic change, and when I was talking about it I swore that I'd go to a legit salon and get it done. I got as far as trying to call the salon I wanted to go to only to find out that it had closed down. BOO!
As you know, I have too much anxiety about getting haircuts to be able to make an appointment several days out. If I think about it too much, I will overthink it and get too nervous to go. So I usually just go to a place that is walk-in friendly. That sometimes means that it isn't always staffed with the most skilled of stylists, but what are you going to do? I didn't really want to get it cut. I liked having long hair! However, a weird health issue caused my hair to freak out, so a lot of it had to go.
I don't have a horror story about the haircut this time, amazingly enough. My hair looks OK. It's not great, but I don't hate it. The damaged part is gone at least, so it looks less fried, even if it is a little Dorothy Hamill-esque. The funniest thing is that the men around me think I'm very sensitive about my hair, and would be mad if they didn't notice. Granted, I didn't say anything to Steve just to see how long it would take him to realize, but he is notoriously inattentive to stuff like that. My boss and coworker, though, have made a point to mention that they've noticed, I guess in case I start crying about it or something.
Y'all, if I ever genuinely become the kind of person that cares so much about the way I look that I'd get mad at random men in my life for not noticing if my hair is shorter, I'm going to need someone to come and slap me around a little and help me gain some perspective, OK? I'm giving permission.
2) I have been kind of haunted for the last few days thinking about those poor people in Hawaii who thought they were about to be bombed off the face of the world. Steve's bosses (lovely, kind people) were vacationing out there when the false alert was sent and he told me that they called their kids to say goodbye and just went out to sit on the beach and wait for it to happen. HOW AWFUL IS THAT?! It's bad enough that they thought they were about to die, but to go outside and wait for it to happen feels like the most helpless, and freaking brave if I am going to be honest, thing I've ever heard. Also, how did their kids feel? To think that was the last time they'd get to talk to their parents? I'm sure it's nice that they got to say goodbye, but still.
It made me wonder what I would do if I were in that situation. I suppose we never know what we'd do until we are put into a specific position, but I'd want to send messages to my friends and family to say goodbye and that I loved them. In what is probably not a very mentally healthy exercise, I've been internally composing what I'd say to the people who mean the most to me. I wonder if I'd be embarrassed if I sent those messages and didn't die. I mean, there are some things you might not say out of decorum or societal rules or whatever, so what would happen if you said something you thought was your final words and then you had to face that person again? On one hand, you'd want to tell them what you had to tell them in case you didn't get another chance. On the other hand, some things can't be unsaid and might make things weird. Ugh, I get knots in my stomach just thinking about it!
It also made me wonder who'd send me a message. I wonder who'd remember me enough to say goodbye if they had just a little while left to live? I might not want to know, though, because it might not be anyone! Bleh, the whole thing is awful. I'm glad it didn't actually happen.
3) I've already told some of you this, but I'm going to tell you again because I'm still mad about it!
A week ago, as I was leaving church, a lady stopped me and said that she needed to show me something. Apparently, there is a woman in our church (a mentally challenged woman) who had been making a habit out of picking her nose and wiping what she found onto one of our church's pew bibles. GROSS! Beyond the pale gross! She said that I needed to get rid of the offending bible. Why? Because I'm the secretary, that's why. My job description says I have to do duties as assigned, and I suppose that picking up soiled bibles is a duty as assigned. I was so disgusted.
Of course I didn't have any gloves (because you bet your ass I'd be triple gloved and in a HAZMAT suit if I had them at my disposal) so I had to suffice with a handful of tissues to guard myself and I had to pick of the bible and figure out what to do with it. Now, I know that a bible is just a book, printed pages and ink, and we have a lot of them so if I had to get rid of one it wouldn't be a big deal. However, I just don't feel comfortable throwing away a bible. I know it's irrational, but that is just how I feel about it. So I had to find a place to hide the booger-infested bible in hopes that it wouldn't be noticed. Now I just have to hope no one finds it and flips through it.
Why is this my job? I have a college education for Pete's sake! Mucus was NOT IN MY CONTRACT!
4) We've started on the weight loss program I talked about in an earlier entry, and so far I hate every minute of it. I'm hungry, grumpy, sleepy, cold, and I feel like I'd give just about anything at this point to have solid food. I'm going to write more about it later, because thus far it's been quite the experience and it's a lot to unpick. It's not the adventure I was hoping to take first thing this year, but it's the adventure that fell into my lap. Stay tuned.
As you know, I have too much anxiety about getting haircuts to be able to make an appointment several days out. If I think about it too much, I will overthink it and get too nervous to go. So I usually just go to a place that is walk-in friendly. That sometimes means that it isn't always staffed with the most skilled of stylists, but what are you going to do? I didn't really want to get it cut. I liked having long hair! However, a weird health issue caused my hair to freak out, so a lot of it had to go.
I don't have a horror story about the haircut this time, amazingly enough. My hair looks OK. It's not great, but I don't hate it. The damaged part is gone at least, so it looks less fried, even if it is a little Dorothy Hamill-esque. The funniest thing is that the men around me think I'm very sensitive about my hair, and would be mad if they didn't notice. Granted, I didn't say anything to Steve just to see how long it would take him to realize, but he is notoriously inattentive to stuff like that. My boss and coworker, though, have made a point to mention that they've noticed, I guess in case I start crying about it or something.
Y'all, if I ever genuinely become the kind of person that cares so much about the way I look that I'd get mad at random men in my life for not noticing if my hair is shorter, I'm going to need someone to come and slap me around a little and help me gain some perspective, OK? I'm giving permission.
2) I have been kind of haunted for the last few days thinking about those poor people in Hawaii who thought they were about to be bombed off the face of the world. Steve's bosses (lovely, kind people) were vacationing out there when the false alert was sent and he told me that they called their kids to say goodbye and just went out to sit on the beach and wait for it to happen. HOW AWFUL IS THAT?! It's bad enough that they thought they were about to die, but to go outside and wait for it to happen feels like the most helpless, and freaking brave if I am going to be honest, thing I've ever heard. Also, how did their kids feel? To think that was the last time they'd get to talk to their parents? I'm sure it's nice that they got to say goodbye, but still.
It made me wonder what I would do if I were in that situation. I suppose we never know what we'd do until we are put into a specific position, but I'd want to send messages to my friends and family to say goodbye and that I loved them. In what is probably not a very mentally healthy exercise, I've been internally composing what I'd say to the people who mean the most to me. I wonder if I'd be embarrassed if I sent those messages and didn't die. I mean, there are some things you might not say out of decorum or societal rules or whatever, so what would happen if you said something you thought was your final words and then you had to face that person again? On one hand, you'd want to tell them what you had to tell them in case you didn't get another chance. On the other hand, some things can't be unsaid and might make things weird. Ugh, I get knots in my stomach just thinking about it!
It also made me wonder who'd send me a message. I wonder who'd remember me enough to say goodbye if they had just a little while left to live? I might not want to know, though, because it might not be anyone! Bleh, the whole thing is awful. I'm glad it didn't actually happen.
3) I've already told some of you this, but I'm going to tell you again because I'm still mad about it!
A week ago, as I was leaving church, a lady stopped me and said that she needed to show me something. Apparently, there is a woman in our church (a mentally challenged woman) who had been making a habit out of picking her nose and wiping what she found onto one of our church's pew bibles. GROSS! Beyond the pale gross! She said that I needed to get rid of the offending bible. Why? Because I'm the secretary, that's why. My job description says I have to do duties as assigned, and I suppose that picking up soiled bibles is a duty as assigned. I was so disgusted.
Of course I didn't have any gloves (because you bet your ass I'd be triple gloved and in a HAZMAT suit if I had them at my disposal) so I had to suffice with a handful of tissues to guard myself and I had to pick of the bible and figure out what to do with it. Now, I know that a bible is just a book, printed pages and ink, and we have a lot of them so if I had to get rid of one it wouldn't be a big deal. However, I just don't feel comfortable throwing away a bible. I know it's irrational, but that is just how I feel about it. So I had to find a place to hide the booger-infested bible in hopes that it wouldn't be noticed. Now I just have to hope no one finds it and flips through it.
Why is this my job? I have a college education for Pete's sake! Mucus was NOT IN MY CONTRACT!
4) We've started on the weight loss program I talked about in an earlier entry, and so far I hate every minute of it. I'm hungry, grumpy, sleepy, cold, and I feel like I'd give just about anything at this point to have solid food. I'm going to write more about it later, because thus far it's been quite the experience and it's a lot to unpick. It's not the adventure I was hoping to take first thing this year, but it's the adventure that fell into my lap. Stay tuned.
Monday, January 01, 2018
HAPPY NEW YEAR
It’s January 1st and the first day of 2018! Aren’t you excited?
Ok, well..then aren’t you glad to be alive?
Eh...ok, look, whatever, I’m glad you’re alive and that should count for something.
Thus far my new year has consisted of sleeping late, eating breakfast for lunch and being in my pajamas for an inappropriate amount of time, but what do you want from me? I had a day off and it is freaking cold, so I’m not going to apologize.
As usual, I’m not going to make any resolutions. I probably should, but I’m not good at that sort of thing. Besides, if I fail, I’d feel terrible, so I have more of a “New Year’s Vague Hopes For the Future” thing in mind anyway.
I do know that, while not a resolution exactly, I hope to enjoy myself as much as possible and hopefully take a few of you lovely people along for the ride. Life is short, after all. Tell me what you have in mind and let’s go on a few adventures.
So come on...take my hand and let’s see what is out there. My treat!
Ok, well..then aren’t you glad to be alive?
Eh...ok, look, whatever, I’m glad you’re alive and that should count for something.
Thus far my new year has consisted of sleeping late, eating breakfast for lunch and being in my pajamas for an inappropriate amount of time, but what do you want from me? I had a day off and it is freaking cold, so I’m not going to apologize.
As usual, I’m not going to make any resolutions. I probably should, but I’m not good at that sort of thing. Besides, if I fail, I’d feel terrible, so I have more of a “New Year’s Vague Hopes For the Future” thing in mind anyway.
I do know that, while not a resolution exactly, I hope to enjoy myself as much as possible and hopefully take a few of you lovely people along for the ride. Life is short, after all. Tell me what you have in mind and let’s go on a few adventures.
So come on...take my hand and let’s see what is out there. My treat!
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