melting mama

, originally uploaded by Melting Mama.

Body functions in the mail.

I got a letter in the mail today from my health insurance company; apparently they've been attempting to "counsel" me via telephone with a nurse case manager, but we've had a very recent change in phone service, and I don't think they can get through.  Am I a complicated case or something?  Is this typical?

Also, in the mail, some recent test results, my cortisol, adrenal functions and TSH were all normal, so there's no obvious reasons there for any of my issues.  (A few of you out there had suggested that my levels might be off and triggering some of this.)

That time I mailed out 22 chocolate bars.

I'm an idiot.  I hope to get the bars out tomorrow.  When I had the brilliant idea to have giveaways?  I forgot a minor detail.  I am still on "house arrest," and when am I supposed to mail things that require postage?  Duh.  They'll get there.  Be patient.

That time I offended everybody during Lent.

*Just remember guys, I have needs that are special and I am in a vewwy fwagile state wight now. 

Kids, could you turn on the lights?

"Ma, I'm not touching that, you do it."

"I don't think so, you do it."

"Um, let's save electricity."

That time you heard much more about my ass that you needed to.

You know it's time to go grocery shopping in my house when I have finally thrown out the last of the food that I did not eat that I said I would.  Typically, it's yogurt.  I buy oodles of yogurt. "I should eat yogurt, it's really good for your digestion, you know.  Look!  It's on sale, let's get ten!  Ooh, how about this delightfully slimy flavor!"  I have never liked the stuff. 

I truly do not like artificially sweetened yogurt, but I can't stop myself, I have a yogurt purchasing compulsion issue.  Please help me.

In an effort to SBA (Save Beth's ass) I ate a yogurt just now.  The LAST yogurt, dated February 28th, 2008.  GULP, Immadienow. 

Again, I am telling you, "diet" yogurt is why diet starts with DIE. 

(You all saw a glimpse of The ass That Ate Boston online yesterday, and I had my chubby finger on the delete button, but I stopped.  I realized, you know - if that isn't motivation - what is?)

ETA:  I've come back to read this post, because the yogurt + half serving of Fiber One made me crash, so, screw yogurt.  Yogurt, fiber, diets, you all suck.

"Killer At Large." Upcoming Documentary.

Regardless of your stance on the issue - tell me this does not effect you.

Mmm, tastes like, well, Kashi!

toothpastefordinner.com

Okay, I know it doesn't fit. But... you can click the link to see the whole comic. Also I am a fan of Kashi. I wouldn't make fun of the twigs that are Kashi, but... anybody that's been Not On A Diet Knows these things.

I think Obesity Help Blew Up.

Either I have been banned for life - or Obesity Help has imploded.  I had several messages sitting there, and when I clicked on each link to reply?  I got "Page not found, such and such an error, you brokez the internetz!" 

Big toy.

You may eat about 5 additional calories today.

I am.  Hence, my breakfast today, in honor of my flake-ness.  But, I'm down a little more!

Weight

• 165

Ate

• 1 serving Kellogg's All-Bran Cereal, "Yogurt Bites," plain (Because, I never eat cereal with milk, and wow That's A Lot Of Carbs + Lotsa Questionable Ingredients Once We Get The WHEAT out of the way, eh?  Review to come.)  "Beth, you know better, you know that will make you low." It did.



• 1 bag Kay's Naturals' Protein Prezzles. (110 calories)
• 1 package ISS Oh Yeah Protein Wafers (180 calories)
• 1 serving Cheez-Its (Get. Outta. Mah. House. 150 calories)
• 1 big plate o romaine lettuce + calorie free dressing (Picky, picking!)
• Homemade meatballs, some whole wheat pasta + sauce...
• Bad Beth --->  Lemon Poopy Seed Loaf.

Ended over by like, 300.

I got a present!

The taxes husband bought Mama a gift from her wish-list, well, not technically from the wish-list (which now must be updated, more than once, squee!) but he picked a Very Reasonable Facsimile.

I think he feels a little bit bad for her and doesn't want to find her stringing her babies from the shower rod when he gets home from work.   So, the answer?  Give me cappuccino.  Sure.  It's not like I won't order one when we go out, but, come on, a little decadence can't hurt at home*, too, considering I am stuck here. 

(*That Validates The Cost Of This Damn Thing, so I don't want to hear a word about it.  Technically, I am saving all sorts of money by being here at least five out of seven days!  No gas, no shopping, it does add up, even if I don't want it to.  I wasn't going to share this, because I know how it looks, because, I bitch, moan and complain about finances, but... this is something special.  Be happy, damn it.)

All of us together with very little brain.

Last night I had an email conversation with a fellow post-op RNY'er who has been dealing with hypoglycemia.  Her endocrinologist has told her she wants to get plans in place to send her to The Mayo Clinic, halfway across the country for this woman, for treatment of "nesidioblastosis."  This woman, asks me (I know, because my damn blog comes up in the Google searches in the top results because I used the terms repeatedly but I am by no means any expert on any of this?!)

"But, how does she know I have it?!" she asks me.

I told her, "I don't know." 

The only "test" that I have read about is the selective arterial calcium stimulation test, in which, I don't entirely understand - and then you dive into partial pancreatomy. 

"But, how does she know I need to go?" she asks me. 

I wish I knew.  (Maybe if I keep reading I will understand, but at this point, my blood sugar is too low to understand what I am reading.)

But, really, she went on to say that she has a couple lows a day for a day - and then can go a while with none, and it's a random cycle, precipitated by food.  Her lowest low, was 32, a few weeks ago, and she was conscious, but was able to drink juice and come up.  She is just really upset at the fact that the doctor wants her to uproot even for a few days and take off 1K miles away for testing - when - isn't there something that can't be done where she lives?  (I think she's in upstate NY.)

I live near a bunch of great city hospitals, and she says that from what she reads of "my" problems, that I am a hell of a lot worse off than she, so, "why is she being sent off to have her pancreas cut up?"

I don't know.  I have been dealing with a very conservative doctor, who has seen several patients through surgeries, and it doesn't always work, and I don't really have a rough case of hypoglycemia, actually.  Unless I start having convulsions that are directly linked to low blood sugar levels, well, I am fine.  I am not being snarky, it's true, the seizure issues are still "unrelated" but happening in the exact same time frame.

What can she do?  I didn't know what advice to give. 

I haven't gotten that far, I had other things happen that got more attention than low blood sugar, like the broken brain, which coincides with hypoglycemia, because...

 

I haven't been posting nor noting low blood sugars, although I know I am having them.  Why?  This medication is making me feel a bit hypoglycemic all day long and I LOATHE it.  I realized I explained that I was riding out the side effects, but they are all in my ****ing brain -and they are making my hypoglycemia symptoms blur entirely into what is now all day long functioning and I am not functioning.  This is not going to work.  I cannot be in charge of young people if I am not functioning properly.  I understand that having a seizure might not be a good idea either, and that medication may be a necessarily evil.  I suppose I could just itemize the "symptoms" - so that you can see that I am not making poop up.  I hate to feel like a hypochondriac, which is exactly where this is headed for someone who NEVER WENT TO THE DOCTOR, any doctor, previous to feeling like my brain was was MIA.

On this anti-seizure medication, "zonis@mide," generic for "zonegr@n," I am:

• dizzy, vertigo-ish, all. day. long.
• seriously visually screwed up, eyes not focusing, feels like a camera lens having to manually CHANGE my eyes, squinting
• ringing ears
• coordination messed up, more than normal even
• word recall still missing, "you know the thing where we put the stuff where the thing goes?"
• can't tell when blood sugar is low - until it is VERY low and I am pacing and confused, probably dangerous, good thing I am already unable to drive or operate heavy machinery.
• if I were working?!  I would be out of a job this week, I know it.

I'll quit there.  So, you see?  Not such a good thing.  I am "riding it out."  This is riding it out.  Ride. Ride.  Ride.  Ride. 

I don't want advice. 

I don't want medication. 

I want whatever it is making my brain implode to g'way so I can be normal again and eat food and drive a car, and go to work, and ... and ... and...

Varicozy.

One of these days I am going to take picture of my dog gamned leg.  Last night, I am laying in bed watching the news, Not Sleeping Because This Medicine doesn't knock my ass out until I am twirling inside my brain the next day dizzy.  I get The Pinched Nerve Pain From Hell. 

ZOINK.

GET UP GET UP GET UP GET UP.

It is always in the same spot, tracing from my upper thigh, and you will find me pacing up and down the stairs, trying to make it go away.  It almost follows the path of my disgusting blue varicose vein, which I have had ultrasound tested because I thought it was gon' blow up and kill me a while back.  I have to walk it out - and eventually it passes, unless I bend my leg and trigger it again.  When I wake up with this pain, it's the "OH MY GOD IT'S THE BLOOD CLOTS THE BLOOD CLOTS ARE COMING" kind of pacing to see if it passes, so it is always a relief when it does go away.

The vein issues are one of those things I thought I would never have as young as I did (I got them at eighteen) nor would I have them as bad as I do now at age twenty-nine now that I am not morbidly obese, I am just technically "obese." overweight.  Somebody slap me.  Thanks, Meg.

Ronzoni Healthy Harvest Leap Day Giveaway and Free Rebate Offer.

If you're a fellow WLS'er, chances are, don't have much belly space for pasta, if at all - and if you do - it's got to be the good stuff.  Pasta choices have grown exponentially recently with lots of great additions like, Ronzoni's Healthy Harvest Line.  I will be posting a review, family-style of these pastas very soon.   (As for us, we only eat whole grain pastas, so this is old hat to my house.  My kids don't even bat an eye anymore.)

You want get a free box - or win a stash?  Read on?

"Every four years, Leap Day gives us an extra 24 hours. This year, on February 29th, RONZONI HEALTHY HARVEST® wants you to use that extra day – which is also the last day of Heart Health Month – to your heart’s advantage!

RONZONI HEALTHY HARVEST® is encouraging everyone to take small leaps to heart health, so we’re offering a FREE box of RONZONI HEALTHY HARVEST® pasta to every household in America on Leap Day! It’s easy to make the leap to whole grains with RONZONI HEALTHY HARVEST®, already a great tasting whole-wheat blend pasta and now with ALA Omega-3 fatty acids. With flaxseed, six grams of fiber per serving and more than 70% of your daily requirement for whole grains, RONZONI HEALTHY HARVEST® pasta is a healthier way to enjoy your favorite pasta dishes.

Simply purchase a box of RONZONI HEALTHY HARVEST® pasta at your local retailer on February 29, 2008 and mail in your receipt by March 15, 2008 with the downloadable claim form to receive your rebate!  Then congratulate yourself on making a small leap to healthy!"

If you would like to be entered in the drawing for several boxes of Ronzoni Healthy Harvest, comment on this post with an example of something you've done to help your heart lately, or a healthy recipe.  Good luck! 

Twenty three names.

I had twenty three comment-ers on that ChocoPerfection post.  I have twenty four bars. 

You all win, sort of. 

Email your mailing addresses, please, to me because I can't fit the bars through my modem.

(I am having another giveaway very soon, check back, like - tomorrow.)

Um, what?

Overheard just now in my house:  The boy spouse on the phone with his mother, "Just type victorias secret it should bring you right there, but I don't think they have shoes there?"  This, ladies and gentlemen, is a big deal.  The woman is buying shoes, two weeks pre-thigh lift.  What is she planning?

I mean, that's what they sell for shoes at Vickie's.  I've only ever seen her wear these from, well, you know:

Although I have to tell you - I may have already shared this, but, the woman was passing me all of her jeans that she bought and are TOO BIG for her.  I now have like ten pair of size 10 and 12 petite jeans that she can't wear because she fell out of them.  Bitch, please.

I guarantee you, that by June, she finishes with a little more plastic surgery a la boobies and gets into a bathing suit and goes on her cruise with the girls in a size four.

Tuesday.

Weight

• 166

Ate

• About 1000 calories.

I'mma call em mud flaps.

 
He is healed.  The beatings can commence.  Except now he is obviously in need of a boob job.  What do you think of this?

If he doesn't lift his breast-tises for you, the belly falls down and caves in on itself.

The thigh lifts, are like a mullet.  Business in the front:

Party in the rear.

I assume all is healing as is expected.  This is my first time watching someone heal from plastic surgery first-hand, other than MIL, and that's just Somethin' Else.

Monday

Weight

• 167

Ate

• About 1000 calories.  Good.

You are about 247 calories over your recommended daily caloric intake for today.

Yahoo.  That's a good day.  Something noticed with this medication - it makes you feel a little bit weird in your belly.  You are hungry, you want to snack, but, sometimes, with the first bite of what you thought you wanted?  You are sent, spitting it out because it Tastes Like Wet Dog.  It could be a good thing, for someone like me who mindlessly picks, but, I can see where it could interfere with meals for someone else.

I remember you from Lane Bryant.

I met a woman today from eleventy years ago.

She says to me, "Do you remember me? You used to wait on me all the time at Lane Bryant." I shook my head, "No, I'm sorry, I don't remember anything these days." She remembers me, she says I am exactly the same.

I tole ya so.

Yes, I worked at Lane Bryant. 40% off, bitches.

I was eighteen years old, newly knocked up and having wicked fun morning sickness, and I was hired as a sales associate and promoted to store co-manager like, immediately. I spent many hours in that damned store, many sick hours. I quit on New Years Eve, after being left alone without a pee break for like, thirteen hours.

This one time at Lane Bryant? I lost a DIAMOND ****ING SOLITAIRE engagement ring down the backroom sink because my hands were swelling. My district store manager would not allow a plumber to get back there to clean the trap and see if I couldn't get it. (Had I known better?)

Moving on. I got a new ring that Christmas. But, still. He didn't need the debt.

Now, I remember the woman. I went to school with her daughters, also. But my brain is also a sponge.

You may eat about 406 additional calories today.

The Daily Plate mocks me. I know I need to log my food every day. This is one of those habits that need be used as necessary to get a derailed train back near the tracks. I hope that at some point in the future, I will be "normal" enough that I do not require food tracking. For now, it helps, especially if you are like me, trying to drop a couple pounds or trying to maintain your current weight.

But, when it's 3 o'clock in the afternoon, and your food log tells you in bright orange font You may eat about 406 additional calories today, it's a bit deflating. Sure, I could readjust the settings to allow for more calories, but, I always go over anyway. I have it set up to lose at the maximum allowed rate right now for my current weight, and it gives me 1,088 calories a day. I never eat 1,000. If I were, I would have dropped these last 30 already.

Anyway. I have no point. As you were.

That will teach me.

I had a long post all typed out about a swoosh while pacing the mall today, and our interweb died and took the post with it.  So, needless to say, I had a swoosh at the mall.  Whee!  I am not re-typing the details, well, maybe I will, in a few minutes... but... for now:

DH says, "That's scary." 

I say, "But, I have been dealing with that for two years - is it only scary now because there's a label for it?"

What is more frightening?  My symptoms for those "swooshy" or complex partial seizure episodes and hypoglycemia episodes are nearly identical, and until a needle is in my finger - we have no idea what the hell is going on. 

Today - I was standing in the Apple store, jabbing myself, only to see that my glucose was perfect, but I couldn't hold a coherent thought or stay still. 

(I went to my primary care physician presenting with these exact symptoms, describing very clearly what I felt - and she told me I was nuts.)

A year later - with no diagnosis - or six diagnoses depending on how you want to look at it.

Since going to the PCP with a complaint of feeling like I had "hypoglycemia," short term memory loss, spells of word-recall problems, near-passing out, and "swooshes," etc. I have been diagnosed with:

• 296.7 Bipolar I Disorder
• 300.02 Generalized Anxiety Disorder
  
• 300.3  OCD
• 294.9 Cognitive Disorder, NOS:  Memory Functioning Deficiency
• Reactive Hypoglycemia + Hypoglycemia Unawareness
• Seizure Disorder

I guarantee the list grows, too, before it gets figured out or "cured."   (I still sorta giggle at the psych results, because - I had low blood sugar during the freaking test.)

Weight

• 168

Ate

• 5am:  1 bag review (to come!) food (100 calories)
• 8am:  Another.  poop is good. + 1 Polly-O String Cheese  (200 calories)
• 10am:  Kay's Naturals Protein Pretzels (110 calories)
• 12pm:  Lunch out at the mall:  California Rolls, ate nearly two pieces and became nauseous.  Quit.  Got a soy cappuccino instead.  ;) (200ish?)
• Afternoonish: 2 Godiva Dark Chocolate Truffles.  Not nearly as good as I thought they would be?  Insides taste like pudding.  I am glad.  Thumbs down.  (Then again, we always have Lindt Truffles.) (200ish?)
• Also afternoonish:  ISS Oh Yeah Protein Wafers (180 calories)
• 5:00pm:  Chicken breast, a couple ounces + a few baby carrots (They do not sit well, ever.) (200ish)

It wouldn't be school vacation without injury.

After the big clothing breakdown of last week, I asked my daughter to clear her ill-fitting clothes from her drawers and we'd make room for new stuff.  After poking and prodding for quite a while, she actually got a little too much fun out of the task, and made a huge pile on the floor.  She and the baby climbed into it and both started "napping."  Then, they got silly.  The baby starting throwing clothes, and my ten year old squealed happily hand flipped back and smacked her squash on the corner of a drawer. 

She jumped up, screeching and crying because she "broke her head, it hurts so bad!"  I have reverse calm syndrome, I am good in an emergency, and I just told her to relax, it was fine, let's take a peek?  Things were almost okay until she reached up and touched her hair and found The Blood There's So Much Blood I Am Going To Bleed To Death.  Honestly when I saw a red river run down to her tee shirt I thought for sure I would be calling for an ER trip, but I did not want to alarm her so I just said, "Let me see, let's go rinse this off."  I got her in the shower, quickly, and looked at the cut.  It is about the size of half a pencil eraser top, super small, but man can heads bleed!  It stopped bleeding quickly, and she's fine.  She couldn't wait to tell her brother, "...and there was like, SO much bloOD!  And, like, you wouldn't believe HOW hard I hit my head, right?"

Some of you don't like it when I use the word...

..."shiver."  But, sometimes that's all I can come up with when I read things like this.  Kim!  Geez.

Weight

• 168.  Thanks be to the drugs, I say.  It did slow my afternoon gnawing on walls yesterday.

Eats

• Atkins Advantage Cafe Mocha (In my coffee.  I don't like it.  I'm forcing it.  I ended up dumping 1/3 down the sink. 100 calories)
• 1 Super Long Polly-O String Cheese (130 calories)
• 1/4 cup plain artichoke hearts (got a spiny piece, what the?! 45 calories)
• 1 Extend Bar (150 calories)
• 1 Granola Bar (90 calories)
• 1 pack *review food, yay, it's good!*  (100 calories)
• 1 pack *ditto, different flavor!* (100 calories)
• 1 indiscretion. Argh. (290 calories + a real good low blood sugar, 50 mg.)
• 2 slices flax bread + butter (rebound 160 calories)
• 1 slice flax bread + 1 oz turkey + 1 tsp Smart Balance Mayo (150ish)

Half a seizure is better than a whole one though.

Last night was night numero dos on the Zonegran anti-seizure medication.  The side effects yesterday seemed to dwindle into the evening, and I felt almost normal by the time I had to, take another pill.  I took the second pill and tried to go straight to sleep, just in case the onset of fresh medication in my system brought nausea or more dizziness.

A few hours later, my husband says I woke him out of a dead sleep in a "swoosh," much like this, and this.  It was pretty much the usual type of middle of the night "swoosh," I stated that I "needed sugar,"  that I was, "sorry," (I don't know why I apologize for "needing sugar?") and then my arms went out straight and I starting making bizarre mouth/lip smacking movements.  He describes it this morning as:  "It was almost like you were supposed to have a seizure, but it stopped halfway."  I guess this means that first of all, the previous medication STOPPED the "swooshes" from occurring, because I hadn't had one since I took it, which maybe means the "swooshes" are seizure activity, which is what we thought because my blood sugar usually tests in the low end of normal during or just after the events.  My theory as a completely untrained idiot savant:  I have seizure activity like the "swooshes," and full-blown seizures when my blood sugar changes extremely rapidly, not necessarily ever getting to the level it may normally be considered low enough to trigger a seizure. 

What? 

Say I eat a sandwich*.  My blood sugar shoots up for me - which is like 140-160, I suppose it could be higher, though I have never tested higher on my own, maybe once, I saw 200 after a dinner out.  30/60/90/120 minutes  later - I drop to 80 - but it happens in like, five seconds, no, maybe several minutes. 

I think my brain goes on strike in those moments.  Something about my brain can't handle the stress of rapid blood glucose changes.  That's my theory.  Why?  Because, the "swooshes," and later grand mal seizures have only occurred since about the same time I started having reactive hypoglycemia post gastric bypass.  I never had a problem with, well, anything previously.

*Just an example, don't give me crap about, "Well, if you didn't eat that there sammich, maybe you wouldn't had no seizure."  Fine.  But, we live in a place called reality.  "Sandwiches" happen in reality.  But, if you want to have that argument, you must know that some of my BEST "swooshes" have happened in front of a doctor at the Joslin Clinic, after a glucose administration, in front of a plastic surgeon after a protein bar and sugar-free energy drink, and at home after a cottage cheese. 

Don't bitch at me, or I'll send her to your house.

Now that the side effects have kicked in.

We swapped seizure medications, because I felt like I was climbing the walls on the Trileptal.  Now I am taking Zonegran, and I tell you within the last four hours, I can feel it crawling in my neurons.  I Do Not Like Being Medicated.  I can tell an immediate difference in my brain.  Unless this is a cruel trick and I am taking a placebo just for kicks?  I want it out of my body. 

I am going to give it a fair shot, I am going to try to get through without tossing a baby with the bathwater, but, if this lasts?  No freaking way.  I'm dizzy and my coordination is off, among other things.

Now, for the positives?  This medication is known for killing your appetite.  Woot.   Upon giving it a good Googling last night, I read that Zonegran was in studies to treat folks with binge eating disorder.  Okay, positives over.

I was my normal grazing picky self until I tried to eat at lunch time.  I ate one protein wafer and nearly vomited on myself.  It was instantaneous nausea, and then my guts wanted out from below.   What A Cure!  Now, I am sitting here, unable to follow through with my project (I got the socks done, but, I moved on to something else) because I Feel Like poop.

(Disclaimerized to add:  It's very possible that it's purely coincidental that I am feeling crappy, it could be an actual sickness or general post WLS ick, which happens from time to time.)

This post brought to you by...

Avoidance.  This morning, I decided, "Today! Is the day - I get through the basket of random socks that hasn't been sorted, well, ever!  Today!  I will get this done!"  Then, trumpets sounded, the skies opened, and, I took a photo of the pile.  This pile of odd socks, has been in my bedroom, piling up in a huge basket.  I am not a sock pair-er.  I wash and toss.  I have never been good about getting laundry from point A to point B.  I get it clean, folded, and that's it.  It's up to you to put that crap away, and do you think anyone does?  I always drew the line at socks, too. 

It is bad enough that I have to deal with five people's undies every single day, but socks are ultimately worse, and I cannot stand the repetitive nature of matching socks.  Wash and toss, kids, wash and toss.  When they need socks, they hit the baskets, but this basket had turned into The Land Of Misfit Footcoverings.  There are stained for life socks, holey socks, Halloween socks with blinking eyeballs, pink camo socks, newborn baby socks, and, a knot of preschooler sized stained knee tights.  My goal today - is to find any salvageable bits in this pile.  I will conquer this mountain.

I must say having been taking anti-seizure medication for a couple of weeks, the last few days my level of housewifeness has increased, even if my brain power has decreased.  (Note to self, wait just a dog-gamn minute!) 

Even if I have been increasingly unable to form a coherent sentence verbally, I have made more than three meals this week.  Holy poop.  That doesn't bode well for my rear end, because if I start cooking, I will start eating.  (Yes, I realize that sounds disordered, but I haven't really eaten "meals" in four years.)  In this time frame that I have become more of a dutiful bitch, I have also gained a few pounds, and that makes me very cranky.  I shared my concerns via email with the doctor, and we have swapped medications, although it is likely that this new medication may cause similar reactions with my mood and make me need the short bus even more, I Like, Totally Won't Get Fat. 

(My next post, come back later.)