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Childhood Obesity PSA = Heroin?

I laughed at this, because I have called SUGAR my CRACK since I had weight loss surgery, and I often say that I am a crackhead, and you will find me doing that to white granulated sugar someday. (Actually, as a hypoglycemic, I have to, I have a sugar injection kit in my house.)

But, it's a bit, dramatic.

And, now I want a hamburger.


This is my brain's impression of VEGAS.  Try not to have a seizure.


I realized that this place is not place for a baby weight loss surgery post op.  If this had been a WLS conference for patients?  

There would be drama, dumping, divas and debt.  

Merely getting off of the plane and walking into the Las Vegas airport, you walk into slot machines!  Maybe I expected something else?   Getting into my hotel - a full blown casino!  Chair massage?  Girls with fake boobs and dresses cut at the pube line to hand out free drinks!  

Running past this -- I pass restaurants!  A buffet!  A bakery!  Fresh made crepes!  Gelato stand!  Chocolates!   

Bars!  THE BARS!

Then, in the room, a mini bar, stocked with $50 bottles of champagne and $30 chocolates.  (Let me explain the Red Bull situation later.)

Las Vegas is a GIANT SPARKLY TRANSFER ADDICTION.  You can have sex, drugs, sugar, alcohol, gambling, shopping, smoking, and binging -- ALL in a matter of minutes.  Just walk outside.  O-o

There is ZERO glamour in any of it, I will tell you that right now.  36680_1430206229804_1072296476_1255515_2370857_n 

(She was one of many girls handed to me outside.)

I have said it before drunk gastric bypass'ers ARE not sexy, not glamorous, kind of, icky.  

Drinking post op is very different.  Many of us (you) become drunk quickly and dangerously, and might keep drinking to continue that level of inebriation, and it's scary.  I read a post last night from a fellow attendee of this conference about "finding the perfect drink for a post op" for this event, and having a couple each night and sleeping like a baby.  

Edited to add later, no longer in Vegas - Yes, I have 'a drink.'  

Yes, I've been photographed With! A! Drink! SHOCKER.  

But.  I am 6+ years post op. AND hypoglycemic.  I have ONE.  

Maybe two over a few hours if my husband is with me, which is RARE.  

I nursed one light beer at a function during this event.  I sipped half and threw it away.  Again, at a dinner event, sipped half and threw it away.  I cannot trust my body to metabolize alcohol and get me safely "home" -- so I DO NOT GET DRUNK.  I can't!  This isn't to suggest you shouldn't - but COME ON!  SHOULD YOU?


 Is this the sort of message we should be sending?  

Should I be on the look out for something to sip in excess to tell you about?  I understand that we are adults and we can make choices, but we must be careful, and I am VERY concerned about post ops and alcohol abuse.  


Beyond that, the mere fact that BEING here, surrounded by things to eat, smoke, drink, buy, do, when you cannot fulfill that most basic need (eating food) WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO with that urge?  I know some of my peers would be completely overwhelmed here, and sucked in to excess and perhaps trouble. 

Transfer Addiction - Katie Jay's blog post

You know I am a fan of some excess, but... there are big buts, grandiose meals, spending insane amounts of money (Do you REALLY have the money to be dumping on the Blackjack table?) or your ass being splatted on the sidewalk plastered because you had too many drinks in a row?   Is it worth it?

I will not lie, I felt a little tweak of want when I got here.  I WANT TO BUY SPARKLY THINGS.  But, the cure?  I can't.  I came with cash, and I have to get back home.  I cannot spend all of my money, and I have ZERO access to a credit card.  I suppose if I were loaded LOL... I would be freer, but I cannot do that.  I am very frugal.  But, you see the problem lies in when you aren't -- and you come without money anyway -- and spend anyway!  Your ship is sinking -- and you're throwing dollar bills into it!

Common sense is more than necessary in Las Vegas. They should have a testing station at the airport, at least multiple choice.

PS.  And, considering I am rooming with a Bariatric BAD GIRL in VEGAS, and the two of us want nothing more than to go see art and flower exhibits and to eat Calcet?  It's a little eye opening.

Rant. Bariatric "Approved" "Diet" Food

I know I have ranted about this before, at least twice, or a hundred times.  But, here we are again.  

Click to enlarge.

Picture 13

A product, listed as a "Bariatric Diet Bar," is sold at a website for Bariatric Patients. 

Bariatric = Weight Loss Surgery, typically Gastric Bypass Roux en y (though this is slowly shifting to more gastric bands and gastric sleeves, etc.)  

The typical customer of a "Bariatric Store" is your typical pre-op or post Gastric Bypass patient.  IE - YOU - READING THIS PAGE.

Gastric bypass patients eat differently than the typical "dieter."   You are aware of this, aren't you?  And, if you AREN'T -- PLEASE TELL ME THAT YOUR DOCTOR PROVIDED YOU WITH BASIC GUIDELINES?

Okay.  Now.

Please explain to ME, why a bar with the following ingredients, and ZERO NUTRITION STATS PROVIDED, can be labeled a "Bariatric DIET Bar?"  There are 5-8 forms of sweetener in this product.   There are no nutrition labels at this website.  You are supposed to trust that your MD "approved!" this bar for your Bariatric Diet.  Uh huh.  

So, the next time I get a little flak over my Dark Godiva Truffle?  

I will pull out THIS BARIATRIC DIET BAR filled with GOODNESS.  


Calcium Caseinate, Sugar, Invert Sugar, Polydextrose, Soy Protein Isolate, Partially Hydrogenated Vegetable Oil(Palm Kernel, Palm, Soybean, Cottonseed)(Contributes a negligible amount of Trans Fat), Water, Cocoa, Brown Sugar, Unsweetened Chocolate, Soy Lecithin, Soy Fiber, Milk, Corn Syrup, Glycerine, Natural and Artificial Flavors, Cream, Cocoa Butter, Salt, Monoglycerides, Dextrose, Sorbitan Monostearate, Polysorbate 60, Aspartame*.

 And, it's not just one bar or food.  It's MANY.  This is just the one from one page that I landed on because someone was looking for a review, and I KNEW I had tried the stuff and avoided the reviews.  (Okay, I LIED.  I have reviewed several of these items.  I think a few got the big DELETE.)

Beer, blowing shit up and riding! I have just destroyed man town.

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In my best "I went to Real Estate School" voice, I did, lots of good that did me!

"There used to be a lovely pool here!"  (Confused look.)

  • And, a "lovely" place to set off fireworks out back.  
  • Note the blow-torched vinyl siding!  How else are you going to get the water for the hose to turn back on?
  • The BB-gun holes near the bedroom window?
  • The dining room chairs buried halfway out in the woods?
  • You want to go inside and see the phone numbers on the walls in the basement?
  • The feet prints on the basement ceiling?  (I don't know how either.)
  • Or perhaps the cracked and patched walls where the pipes burst when the house was abandoned?

(Note, all of these things, I really didn't see until after I bought the house. I was blinded by 2300 square feet.)

I often wondered why it looked like something blew up back there. 

Now I know.  And, it's all cleared out.  

MM the RE Agent:

"Would you like to take a tour of the backyard?  It's very aesthetically pleasing?  Watch for the bunnies!"

I don't know how often those aerial photos are taken, but that cannot be within several years.  Our "pool" was nasty when we moved here in 2008.

In the previous photos, it seems the area was specifically designed for blowing shit up and riding ATV's while holding a beer.  In fact, my neighbors on the other side say that it's exactly what was done here.  Blowin' shit up, ridin', and assorted pharmaceutical sales perhaps of which people still come in the night to find.  O-o


I should sell this house to my brother and brother in law.  They'd L-L-L-LOOOOOOOVE that if they could stand to live together.  Beer, blowing shit up and ridin'!  It's man-town!   RAAAR!  TESTOSTERONE!  

And, I just ruined it.  Sorry!  But there is still time.  It can be YOURS for the right price!

If I find a money tree in the process (suggestions welcome) you can have the house, let's just have it happen before I paint shit pink.  (I should note, I haven't done anything to this house, aside from some flooring as necessary updates.  I have zero love for this house.  There is NOT A PHOTO ON THE WALL.)

My neighbors would probably prefer if I were an ATV riding man, and not some woman with "fat kids" as they describe.  But?  I'm working on that, thanks for caring!  

Mr. MM just called en route home from Disney, to share that "Can you believe how inexpensive it is down here?  OMG, Beth, the houses are X dollars?!"  

No, we can't move there.  We can't move at all.  But.  There are other options!

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What's realistic about a sarcastic, bitter woman, who STILL can't/won't control her eating and blames it on her bypass being a failure?

  Picture 107

I already wrote this once, twice, even. Therapeutic to rant, but it's just never the same the second time around.  

Short version.  I found this.  I went to the reviewers Facebook and asked her "why so mean?"  She and a friend got very, very nasty.  (In fact, they are still posting between each other, and the updates are coming to me now, two hours later.)  I had to stop reading it for my sanity, I removed myself from the conversation and blocked it.

I can take criticism.  I like advice.  But, what happened after the following public review on AMAZON, was not.  

"1.0 out of 5 stars If you want support, you won't get it hereApril 8, 2010

By S. Azzouz

This review is from: Melting Mama l Realistic looks at life after weight loss surgery (Kindle Edition)

I tried, I really tried to keep going to MM's site but after a few month's I can't take it anymore. At first, I really loved it because she was spunky, to the point, didn't mix words and was funny. After a while, though, it seems your eyes are opened to some painful facts. While I understand her trying to make money off her site and having sponsors but I find the line upon line upon line of ads distracting and annoying. Especially when you can't even FIND the articles or relevant information unless you keep scrolling and scrolling thru tons of ads to get to them way on the right border of her site, toward the bottom of the page. And 9 times out of ten, they are AD links not articles! Who wants to keep worrying every time they click what they think is an article is another flipping ad! 

The attitude I took for no nonsense and spunk, I soon realized seemed to be just plain bitterness. During one of her many web page changes, she lamented about gaining weight and that if she had the choice, she wouldn't have had the surgery and she regretted it. What?? That is what the site is supposed to be about, right? How did she think that other people who came to look at her site for support took that? She described the food she was eating and I was appalled that she was surprised as to why she gained weight! How many of us after bypass eat Godiva chocolates and doughnuts from the local bakery or can eat it? Most of us would be puking our guts out from all the sugar! At first, I thought maybe she was joking but it was for real! My friend actually phoned me to go look at the site because she was just as disappointed that this was the kind of stuff that was posted. She hadn't had the surgery yet and went there on the advice of someone else and after she saw it, she wondered if this was gonna be how she would be a few years after surgery or maybe it doesn't really work. Her husband's blog (who also had a bypass) was linked to her page and when you clicked over to his page he complained about the same thing of gaining weight and that at least he cut down from a dozen doughnuts to 4 but didn't understand why his weight loss was not budging! What is wrong with these people??? 

I really, really don't know why anyone would subscribe to this on Kindle when you can go online to it for free or to go there at ALL; but to each his/her own. If you expect support, a forum, or any articles that are to help you with Gastric bypass/weight loss surgery, this is NOT IT. What's realistic about a sarcastic, bitter woman, who STILL can't/won't control her eating and blames it on her bypass being a failure? I would never recommend this site to ANYONE (unless you are an advertiser)and will never go there again."

Frustration, window shopping at Torrid and $89.50 Lane Bryant Jeans.

  Picture 79

(Wicked cute shirts @

We have dug through my oldest daughter's clothing again, and it's glaringly apparent that she's in serious need of new clothes, namely, pants. (Every six months or so, we dig and donate.  What we cannot pass down, we give away.)

I've made this post at LEAST six times in the last few years, because it always lands me in the same place, searching online for her unique size. 

She announced last night, that she is "probably got only one pair of jeans that I'll wear, because the rest just don't fit right."  And, she produced one pair.  The rest?  Don't fit right.  Including?  $72.00 Lane Bryant Jeans that I bought in the fall.  

She's not gained weight, she's gotten taller, so sizes haven't really changed, but she will only wear What Feels Right.  I get that.  But.  DAMN IT, there's no easy way to buy clothing when you aren't a size 0-13 in juniors.  NOTHING FITS.  

I say it every time, but WHO MAKES CLOTHES FOR KIDS LIKE US?  (I was one, you probably were too, where did you shop? Hello Lane Bryant!  I worked there for the discount!)  

There is no shortage of rounded pre-teens in her school, and nobody is naked, where on earth are they buying clothes?  My daughter confided that one of her best friends buys mens' PAC SUN tee-shirts because they look trendy enough and bulky enough, so that she doesn't feel exposed. 

She's at the age where she really has to pick her own stuff out.  I can't do it.  I need her to choose, so I told her to g'head and Google.  She was disgusted to say the least, at what she found when she searched for "plus size clothes."  I told her to try "plus size juniors" and we landed on  Again.

Torrid, much of it, not appropriate for her, but some could work, namely tee shirts, hoodies and jeans.  It's just the $500.00 shopping cart she loaded in 20 minutes, and then asked me to "just enter your credit card now, okay?"

I had to explain that I "don't use credit cards, so when I have the cash in my bank account, I will check over your shopping cart and order what I can, okay?"

Again, I just want to voice my frustration at the lack of CHOICE out there for plus sized girls and teenagers.  I would REALLY prefer to avoid dragging out the Woman Within catalog, and putting her in fucking polyester pant sets.  


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Climbs out of a coma with a question.

 It's a few days into spring vacation.  The kids have had sleepover guests, and although last night it went "well," today my daughter wanted to make "something" with her girl friends. 

She found all the ingredients for simple sugar cookies and went at it. Although, I must admit, we were out of vanilla, and we subbed some flavor drops. ;)  I did attempt to talk them into doing something else -- but they like to cook -- and I couldn't think of anything else to make that they'd do alone and without a huge mess.

I am now coming out of a full-blown COMA.  Not a dumping, not a little queasy, a FUCKING COMA. 

I sat down in a chair, and my eyes shut.  I laid on a blanket on the floor.   I tried to "sleep."  I got jumped on.  "Sssh!  My mama's dot a bewwy ache!"

Frankly, if there weren't two additional kids in my house right now?  I would go to bed.  <I saved the post and came back to it later.>

Many things, I can tolerate.  I cannot tolerate BUTTER SUGAR COOKIES.  Why did I has cookies? Because, they were there, and there were warm.  I ate two and I died.  

I always have a warm cookie from the oven if someone else makes them.*  

And, if it's MACAROONS?  I'll take some home, if it's BAKLAVA?  I'll pay for it, like, I mean, how much DO YOU WANT FOR IT?  

READ THAT AGAIN, I AM A WARM COOKIE EATING WLS FAILURE.  (That's your next blog post.) *Unless, of course, they are raisin, because WTF raisins?  EWW!

MM never makes them much of anything on her own fruition.  It's just not worth the effort anymore for ME to make cookies, because I would lick the spoon and pass out in the oven.  I can't even make macaroni and cheese without getting sick.  I will eat some cheese while I am grating it and then, two bites of pasta, and I'm in the chair while it bakes, waiting for death.

Eating is simply a game sometimes.  I have had much, much stronger poison than two pissy little cookies. The reactions really ARE amazing when they are SO DRAMATIC.  

PS.  Someone asked on my Hypo after WLS group:  

"Why do you keep junk food in your house if you are prone to eating it and subsequently getting sick or gaining weight? I read this type of comment a lot and honestly don't understand why you do this to yourself. Just don't buy it."

Um.  Well.  I live with five other people.  

My short answer was basically that I cannot be The Parent to my Spouse, who tends to be the one who buys ANY/ALL "junk" food.  That's it.  I don't need the fights.  

I have spent YEARS throwing shit away, and I still do.  

Thankfully, he has cut it down to a less frequent practice.  But, when stressed, he will come home with food. He works in a bank inside a grocery store:  and is surrounded by food ALL DAY LONG.  

The other day, we got a letter from the IRS.  

"Hi Mr. + Mrs. MM, There Was A Mistake, You Owe Us Many Dollars."  

He came home with two bags of Goldfish Crackers, one empty, a cornbread, a coffee, and a donut.  I have no control over him, his shopping and his habits.  

"Why do I keep it in my home?"  

I don't.  I haven't.  I try not to, at least.  I try not to spend my grocery dollars on food that might keep me running to the cabinet.  

Because of this?  There IS a short list of foods that I truly WILL. NOT. BUY.  and on it are things like, potato chips.  I cannot be trusted.  I will eat them.  They will eat me right back.  Other things?  Ice cream. 

"But, OMG YOUR KIDS?!  THEY DON'T GET ICE CREAM!?"  Nope.  Sorry.  Not in my house.  Believe me.  They're not missing out.  We are all still overweight, without ice cream, potato chips, Cheetos, Fritos, packaged cookies, sugary cereals, etc.  

And, you know what?  Playing food popo has backfired quite a bit in the last seven years.  Just saying.

And, because of my Extra-Special-Guts?  I can have the same reaction from a POTATO or PLATE OF LETTUCE as you might expect from a bowl of ice cream!  Even if I keep all the naughty foods out of my house, I may get sick on GOOD, WHOLESOME foods.  

Because Gawd knows I could use more food guilt.

I mean, sure, the answer to happy hypoglycemia may lie in eating nothing but meat and cheese seven days a week or a glucose bag dripped directly into my remnant stomach, but then?  I'd probably buy Cheetos just to lick them.

And, you?

I think I am ready to be put in The Home.

I went out to pick up a few things. Pull-ups, hand soap, milk, etc.  (And to look at cheap-o microwaves, since mine is currently dead, and K-CUPS because my coffee machine is dead, and... I gave up.)

I also SPECIFICALLY went to pick up a new phone for the house.  Specifically.  Because, I am sure you can guess what happened to the last one, which was bought less than six months ago.  Out of how many handsets we have how many left?  Zero.  And, the single corded phone in the one place it can be plugged into the Verizon thingie --- is not a good place for a seven year old with a chat problem.  I figured why not? another cheap cordless, because it's going to get lost anyway.  (You tell me, I turned this house upside down, the handsets are g o n e, gone.)

What did I forget?  The phone.  Entirely.  Even on a list, POOF!  

Although - Tristan was beyond distracting, and "OH NO MY BELLY HURTS I HAVE TO GO POTTY RIGHT NOW WHERE IS THE POTTY?" and we made it.  Phew.

Getting out of the store alive was a goal, and we did it.  But, I couldn't find my car.  You have to understand the process in which I do things like... parking the car, now.  I cannot just Park The Car.

I always park either AS CLOSE as I can or AS FAR AWAY as I can so that I can easily find the car since it's RIGHT THERE or easily remember that "Oh yeah, I DID park 1/4 mile away so that it would jog my memory when we leave the store."  

Today?  It's 15 degrees outside.  I stepped out to find the car with a three year old and walked in circles. Truthfully, I am lucky I remember to leave out of the same door I came IN from, because that's even more fun, when I am on the wrong side of the lot.  I looked up, down, over, around, and finally played the "meep meep" game with my alarm keychain.  Found it!  I got into the car and realized I forgot to buy what I went IN THE STORE FOR.

The phone?  Just an example of life as I know it.  I spend all day long like this.  I get nothing accomplished without a list stapled to my FOREHEAD and velcro on my butt.

I swear to you -- trade me 150 pounds of excess fat -- I WANT MY BRAIN BACK.  This is ridiculous.  If I can't do simple things at 31, just put me in a home before I am 40.  For those of you who might think this is OMGDRAMAAAAATIC... it's been a problem.  My memory.  I went to a neuropsychologist to begin with way back in.... 2006?  I was diagnosed with a Cognitive Disorder of .... uh... memory.  It's worse now.  Much worse.  The seizures and seizure medicine came after -- and I think have effected me negatively.

PS.  It's not a simple case of CRS now, it's everything.  "Did I turn the water on/off?  Why is the door open?  Was I supposed to be somewhere?  How old is my husband?  What's the phone number?"  EVERYTHING.  My brain is like a pasta strainer.

Paging Santa, I am going to be a little late.

 I swear to you -- the Postal Service doesn't like me.  It's now 5:30pm 6:30pm with no sign of mail, again.  Don't they know it's December 22nd and I have to talk to SANTA still?  

She said the "trash buckets were in the way" --- and they are not.  Now what? 

I lodged a "complaint" at the USPS number, but that isn't going to fill my stockings.

What are your limits?


"It feels like one phase of your life is coming to an end, but this is just a sign that there are new opportunities right around the next corner. Today's mysterious Scorpio New Moon falls in your 12th House of Destiny, making the current transition more significant than you realize. But don't waste energy grieving what you are leaving behind; your enthusiasm for what's ahead is a key component to your success."

Of course it's true, all horoscopes ARE, right?  Riiiight? 

Continue reading "What are your limits?" »

Starbucks fail.

So here's a little rant.  The hotel we stayed at in Atlanta listed that it had a Starbucks.


What it was, was a kiosk on the wall style coffee stand with hotel staff, with a Starbucks logo and product.  I made the mistake of reading the menu, which was a minaturized version of the real thing, and asking for one of my usual drinks.

Iced Venti Americano, Soy, One pump mocha, and Splenda.

I have never seen the Deer In The Headlights Look so blatantly in my life.  First, it was,

    "What's an Americano, isn't that water?" 

    Then, "we don't have ice," and "One PUMP?"

The woman went to the hotel kitchen for ice for my drink, huffing and puffing all the way, and at one point, poured a drip of Mocha from an empty bottle because she was out, and the stock was also not available to them.  Another time, a hotel manager (I think!) made my cappuccino, after waiting TWENTY MINUTES for it, I realized I might just walk, and he "attempted" to make it right.

I was just, appalled that they could use the Starbucks NAME on this location.

Let's just say, that in the 4-5 drinks I did purchase from Friday to Sunday, ZERO were made correctly.  It was hardly worth the effort to complain, though, the staff was miserable anyway.

And, I'm a little peeved too, because someone like me who CAN MAKE DRINKS can't get HIRED by Starbucks.

If I develop superpowers, it's because...

Picture 12
I just got my ass shocked.

Tristan and I were laying around watching TV - and a pretty strong thunderstorm came through and scared her.  We went to "hide" where it wouldn't be visible to her.  When I went downstairs, I noticed the basement door was flooding, and I grabbed some laundry and towels and threw them on the developing river. 

I was standing in water, not much, but some.

I don't know if it was the lightning, but I got zapped pretty damn hard, enough to make me scream, toss me back and run. 

(Outside of my back basement door, there is currently like eight inches of water trying to come in, and at that point, I was standing in water, with the towels trying to stop it before it got worse.)

The shock started in my right foot, and exited apparently in my right hand, I felt it, like 1000 Pop Rocks being lit on fire.

Since I was home alone with the Biscuit, I ran upstairs with her, sat her in the bathroom with me because she was *already freaking out since the storm started, and called 911.  I wanted to make sure someone was here in case the electricity sent me into a seizure, I assumed it could.  They came, and Bob and the kids got home shortly thereafter, so I didn't go to the hospital, obviously.  I'm fine, no wounds or anything, I was just more concerned that the shock would misfire my brain or something.

Picture 13

Internet Bully.

If you're a dooce reader - you know of her recent washing machine saga.  She bought a machine, it broke, she Twittered about it, all sorts of people got cah-razy mean and start spewing at her that she's a big bully.

This is why I can relate, and I don't necessarily agree that she's a bully. Url

I have a small blog.  I have a small "following."  Last year I blogged (B.T. Before Twitter) about my toddler being told to "Shut The Fuck Up" by a car salesman.

Continue reading "Internet Bully." »