Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Day 8 - 1st weigh in

I have sooo much to blog about, zero heart to do it. But, I swore to be 100% transparent and honest on this journey, so here it is. Today, on my first "official" weigh-in, I've gained 1.5 pounds.

Start: 276.5 Today 278

I fully admit I've actually been weighing myself every few days. By day 4, I was down 4 pounds. I truly thought I would be down a full 5 pounds by today. Then, I went grocery shopping over the weekend. Did I buy sugar? No. Absolutely NO desserts, NOTHING that would normally be considered 'unhealthy'. NO sugar cereal, NO potato chips/pretzels/crap food.

However, I did buy Kashi cereals for fiber, and tortilla chips to eat salsa/hummus with. Apparantly, I...can't....do...that. I counted/weighed/measured/accounted for every last bite. I kept my calories under 1600 most days, 1800 on the worst day. BUT...my body reacts terribly to corn/wheat/potatoes/etc. Two days of tortilla chips (even in moderation of 7 chips per serving) and homemade stew last night were enough to sink my battleship. In three days I gained back the 4 lbs + 1.5 more. Damn.

Before you all think I'm crazy, let me assure you, this has happened before. Years ago, I begged my then-family-doctor for help. I kept detailed food and exercise journals, and took them to her, looking for answers. She sent me to an endocrinologist, who said my body needed to be shocked into starvation. He put me on a 600 cal/day diet - and prescribed x amount of exercise. In less than a week, I gained NINE POUNDS! It was AWFUL. I took my log to all doctors involved, and they told me I was lying, I'd been cheating. I hadn't, I didn't, I was crushed...

Much later, I switched family docs and the new doc suggested I have an estrogen-loading issue. The easiest way to sum it up, is that my body has a tendency to hang on to yeast - which raises estrogen levels - which then dorks up the whole thyroid/metabolism thing. To deal with it, there is a strict yeast cleansing diet. When I follow the diet to the letter, I've lost up to 40 pounds in a month. But it is very, VERY difficult to follow.

Guess what? It's time to find it again. I'll be starting it beginning with lunch today. Oh, and I got clearance from the cardiologist yesterday that I can start exercising. (that's a long story - and was actually pretty funny yesterday...but I'm NOT feeling remotely humorous at the moment...) Hopefully, week #2 will be better.

I'm NOT giving up! I'm NOT going to 'fake it', fudge to you, or whitewash any of this. Cancer kids don't have that as an option, so neither do I. We parents of CKs (cancer kids) hear awful, devastating news all the time. In fact, for lots of us, that news leads to a greater amount of bulge to battle with. I suppose I shouldn't have thought for even one second that this would be an easy battle to take on. NOTHING about Childhood Cancer is easy...why should my awareness campaign be?

Is the yeast diet tasty, fun, or resort-ish? NO - it sucks. But...then again, so does having cancer when you're supposed to be playing Tee-ball or Barbies. Folks, if you think I'm suffering...you should meet some kids I know.

I'm sad today, really, REALLY sad....but this time, I'll get over it - and I'll move on. I will NOT lose faith or momentum. I will continue to humiliate myself if it means 'my' kids have even one tiny chance of being heard. I WILL lose this weight, and fight my way into the public eye somehow. I WILL make sure the American Public LEARNS about kids with cancer. I HAVE to. I've seen too many kids suffer.

But today, I'm sad. I'm kind of defeated. And oh yeah...I'm another year older.

Happy Frickin' Birthday to me.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Day 6...

Ugh! Sick kids, laundry to the moon, shopping for healthy food, medical kid, house in utter chaos...

I want chocolate, a maid, booze, and a backrub. In...that...order.

I'm getting none of the above.


Friday, September 17, 2010

Day 4 - Crap.

Little time to be witty tonight...

Ambrosia - A#2 - has been 'pukey-Sue' most of the day. She's been worshiping the great blue plastic barf basin (not even able to make it to the white porceline God). Tried to do school with Avalon - who also fell prey to something this afternoon. Is she getting the my-guts-are-coming-out-through-my-nose Ambrosia thing? Or, is this typical Avalon nightmare. Doesn't matter which, she's been flat on the couch - so dizzy she doesn't feel safe to walk, and not interested in food.

Before Avalon fell victim, we did some school today. Which left Aurora downstairs, on puke bucket duty...not a 15 yo's favorite way to spend an afternoon. Neither is packing...and that's a whole other story...

Massive clean out happening here too - so the day's been nuts. I do have a few diet notes though....

Tacos are $%@% high in calories!! Who knew? OK, so maybe you skinny types did, but we blubber butts had no flippin' clue. Seriously...not kidding. Nick made taco meat for us last night - so in my crazy day, it was easy to have tacos for lunch and dinner. Two each meal - lots of lettuce and tomatoes - no sour cream...and they still cost me HUNDREDS (too many to mention) of calories! I'm pissed. Yeah, you read that right, pissed. Is that a family-friendly, politically correct word? Nope. Tough toenails. I thought I was being responsible....and I sabotaged myself by accident. It's a P.O.ed kind of moment.

I supposed I could hope this whole barfy thing is a virus...and I'll puke out all those calories tomorrow.

Then again, maybe not.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Day 3 Am I bitter?

Aurora (my oldest daughter) says I'm a smidgeon bitter. I'm sure I don't have any idea what she was talking about. I mean, I simply made a small, non-combative comment....and she went and called me bitter. I don't think that was very nice...

Yesterday was one of those crazy-errand-days. You all know the ones, where you've put off 85 things that should have been done yesterday, and now you have no damn choice but to accomplish them all in one whopping marathon. I hate those days. Seriously...give me a choice of dental work or errands...I swear I'll go for the freaky dude in a mask. (who signs up to have their hands in people's mouths all day? Ewww...) I hhhhhaaaaatttttte errands. They make me crabby.

First stop was to Aurora's new ophthalmologist. Sure, I've been to the building before, but once...a year ago. Do I know where it is? Well, yes I do, by golly. But did I know exactly how to get there? Ummm....noooo....maybe not. It's not like I went 38 miles out of the way, or drove to the wrong city, or missed the zipcode entirely. I just didn't realize I needed to get off the highway at an exit that's pretty far north of the actual building. And by the time I realized there weren't any other options...I was whizzing right past the bastion of eye health...and smack into a whacked out part of downtown that has exactly NO direct route back to the stupid road I needed.

Errand Day: 1 Alicia: Big, fat, hairy ZERO.

Great. Fine. Fan-friggin'-tastic. Time to wind my way through twisty, non-directional, pointless roads, as I ever-so-successfully erode away my 'grace period' of I-might-actually-be-early-for-once! Early was OUT. I began to hope for same calendar day.

As I finally found my way to boulevards I knew were headed the right direction, we began to crusie through a rather snooty suburb of Columbus. Funny, this is by no means one of the nicest, or most expensive suburbs. But, it is definitely a high runner in the our body secretions don't smell mindset. You can't walk 6 feet down their streets without bumping into someone who can spout their lineage in perfect Days of Our Lives fashion, Why, my Father was the 2nd richest and by far the best known Fart Fancier that Madame Medusa has ever seen...

So here I am, running late, gamey from stress sweat, and most importantly for this particular tale...hungry and CRANKY, as I drive the streets of perfection. And that is when I saw them.


Oh, not sweaty, pudgy-so-you-know-they're-suffering-like-you joggers. Oh noooo-ooooo.... These were the never-had-6-oz-of-fat, wearing-expensive-shoes-and-running-couture joggers. You just knew chicki-babe's sports bra matched her sport underwear. And you double-dutch-dare knew they were all the best of the best that the best of the best sporting goods stores only carry in sizes 0-6. (because anyone over a size 6 doesn't deserve to live, much less marry, reproduce, or god-forbid...exercise) You just knew it...

The following conversation then took place with Aurora. I believe she judged me. Rather harsh of her, if you ask me.

Me: I want to trip them.

Aurora: What?!

Me: I...want....to....TRIP...them.

Aurora: Who?!

Me: The joggers.

Aurora. WHY?!

Me: Because they're judging me.

Aurora: Have you lost your mind? They're not judging you. They're running down the street. They don't even know you're in here!

Me: They're skinny. They're jogging. I don't see sweat. They're judging me.

Aurora: You are completely NUTS. Those people can't even see you! That's mean.

Me: I don't want to cause bodily harm. Nothing broken, no permanent damage. I just want to see them faceplant...once, OK mayyyybe twice...

Aurora: MOM! You would hurt somebody if you tripped them! Seriously, mom. You're weird.

Me: If they jogged past me on the road, they'd judge me. I'm a blob, they'd instantly categorize me as lazy and gross. Am I wrong?

Aurora: ...well....maybe....

Me: C'mon...you know I'm right.

Aurora: Mom, you're a tad bitter. They could be nice.

Me: They'd judge me and I want to trip them. I could be happy settling for just one. The really skinny chick. C'mon...just one pudgy little cankle in their path?

Aurora: Mom, I think you're a little bitter.

Me: Nah, I'm sweet. I've got too much chocolate back-logged in my butt.

She better watch out. If she keeps judging me, I've got plenty of chances to toss out one of my cankles...

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Day 2 - No Buckeyes!

Holy Sabotage, Batman....are you serious?!

OK, so something snapped in me on Sept 13. Something about recent bad news for Avalon, recent bad news for the children of dear friends, and National Childhood Cancer Awareness Day all coalesced in my tiny noggin and created a ginormous boot to kick my butt into action. For once, I didn't think, I just did. Sounds great, right? Sure, unless you're the boob who just jumped off the cliff...

Now don't get your panties in a twist. I'm not giving up on day two or anything. In fact, I have no intentions of giving up at all this time. But holy bageezees, Batman...did I have to face sabotage on the very first day?!! Sure, sure I did. Why? Because dorky old me forgot about '
Mom's Night Out', that's why. MNO is put on by a local charity for families of pediatric cancer. One of their programs is to have a monthly meeting where local moms come together to chat, eat, kvetch, eat, laugh, and...eat. Actually, come to think of it, food happens to be a central theme in lots of the mom events. Hmmm...I may have to consider sacrificing my mental state for my diet fate. Then again, dag-nabbit, there are skinny moms who attend this stuff. How come I can't be one of theeemmmmm? (said in my best whiny 6 yo voice) Aww bat crap.

But I digress.... (BTW, if you're new to my writing, you might just want to get 'used to' the whole digression thing.) To honor the collective worship of the entire city of Columbus, OH, the theme of this month's dinner was a Buckeye tailgate party. Not realizing I would soon be signing my life away, I ever-so-innocently signed up to bring Scarlet and Gray popcorn and da da da dummmm...buckeyes. Any locals just instantly understood the gravity of the situation. For those of you not 'of Buckeyedom', let me fill you in. Our city is bonzo for Ohio State football. We cheer wildly for the Ohio State Buckeyes. Yeah, we all worship a nut. It's a nut with arms, legs, and a face...but it's still a nut. Better yet, eons ago some genius came up with a candy to honor that nut. 'Buckeyes' (in candy form) are peanutbutter/confectioner sugar/wonderment that are dipped in chocolate, leaving a small spot with the peanutbutter peeking through...so they look like the actual nuts that fall off the trees. A good candy buckeye (or 3) gives debauchery a run for its money. I mean seriously, the older you get, the more kids that can interrupt...Buckeyes begin to take the lead... Just sayin'

So, here it was, my first night on my VERY public diet, and I had signed up to bring popcorn and buckeyes. Oh, and Scarlet and Gray popcorn is actually scarlet and gray (OSU colors). It's candy coated and perhaps the most amazing popcorn you will ever place in your face. When I realized I had to go buy this stuff...I could nearly smell the failure in the air... But, I had promised, so off I went.

The good news is, our local grocery had sold out of S & G popcorn, so I had to wait to shop until I was on the way to dinner. After an appt downtown, I popped into a store on the way to MNO. What luck! They were sold out of popcorn! OK, let's be honest. I should have danced. Really, that would have been the appropriate response. But the fact is, I sulked. I am such a flippin' nut job - I was utterly bummed they didn't have a sweet treat that I couldn't eat. I've...lost....my....mind.

After settling for scarlet and gray cookies and finding some buckeyes, I headed off to meet up with my moms. As I drove there, contemplating the insanity of the situation, reality began to set in. I started to realize how little I'd thought through the whole I'll-start-the-diet-TODAY thing. Why? Oh I don't know...things like my birthday is next week. Or, how about we're going to the Rennaisance festival this weekend? How about our free weekend (food included!) at Kalahari Resort in 10 days?! Then....then....there's Halloween on the horizon...then....Thanksgiving... Aaaaaghhhhhh!!!!!

Breathe in...breathe out. Breathe in....breathe out. Ohhhhmmmmm.......

About the time my hair began vaulting from my scalp, I pulled into the parking lot. I stomped my way into our gathering room, fussing loudly about my lack of popcorn, while fuming quietly about all the stuff I wasn't going to get to eat in the coming months. Grumble, grumble, fuss, fuss.... Grrrr....

First, I was hugged by my friend whose son had brain tumors as an infant. We were in the hospital at the same time a few years ago; Avalon recovering from her catastrophic surgery, Will recovering from his stroke - a late effect of the radiation that saved his life 15 yrs before. I was hugged by another friend who has heard the awful words we all dread, and yet she smiled and hugged me. Oh, then there is the bouncy, smiling, hysterical mother who only has pictures and memories of an infancy spent in the hospital, empty arms but a joyful heart. As I hugged each of my friends, all of them part of this awful family of cancer parents...the buckeyes became so much less important.

I ate salad, a bean picante with a few tortilla chips, and a Diet Coke. No KFC, no cookies, NO BUCKEYES.

Hey Batman, think you're up to helping me kick some cancermom flab? I think our kids deserve it.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Fat-A-Thon Day 1~Sept 15, 2010

Day 1 - I'm probably certifiable

What in the holy crap have I gone and done?! I've lost my mind, that's what. I've publicly pledged to restart something I've failed at before. Oh sure...that inspires confidence...

OK, so here's the thing. This whole lose-weight-to-raise-awareness thing has been taking up space in my pea-brain for far too long. I'm sick of it keeping me up at night. I'm dad-blasted tired of it claiming so much mental real estate that I forget things like my own phone number. It's time to drag the insanity out of the dark recesses and plop it squarely in the light. Hopefully, I'll reclaim a smidgeon of my sanity in the process...

You see, years ago I had a friend who likened her aging brain to a rolodex. You spend a lifetime accumulating knowledge of all manner and sort. You gather things like historical facts, emotional thoughts, and the useless data that we require to function in polite society. Well...our brains are like a rolodex. Eventually, they run plum out of space. When that happens, something gets kicked to the curb. For example, I can still recall my best friend's phone number from elementary school, but I utterly, totally forgot my son's 3rd birthday last year, until someone else mentioned it. I firmly believe my rolodex is overstuffed and cards are flying out at speeds sufficient enough to decapitate small dogs. I've decided it's best to voluntarily remove a few things, before our neighbor's Yorkie takes a hit. Hence, I've moved the Fat-A-Thon idea back 'out' - to free up several zillion kilabites of internal memory. I can virtually hear the synapses breathing a sigh of relief... (Indulge me on this, let me live in the delusion that I'm soon to be as organized as I will be svelte and gorgeous...and stop laughing)

So here we go again. You, me, a bunch of strangers, and the internet...all about to start a wondrous journey together. We're going to sweat together, laugh together, and please-oh-please lose some fat blobules together. (it's a word - deal with it!) I've proven in the past that I know how to lose weight. Really, I have. However, I've also proven that I'm a weak-minded simpleton who hears talking bagels and singing chocolate. Knowing what to do and doing it happen to be vastly different beasties. Your part in this nut brigade is to keep me honest. Cheer for me when I tell the bagels to be quiet, and yell at me when their siren song lures me in.

But most of all, your job is to laugh. That's right...laugh. Folks, this world is full of far too much seriousness. Ask any of us cancer parents. Holy crap, we've got enough serious to fill the grand canyon several gagillion times over. (and yes...I maintain that is yet another 'real' word!) Cancer parents have death, pain, torture, and helplessness in their realities. More than most people we need to laugh to survive! So join me in honoring my fellow cancer moms. As I gripe/moan/kvetch-like-it's-my-job....laugh with me as I attempt to battle my butt. I do this for all of us who have eaten our stress, and for all of our children who have unwittingly been drop-kicked into the world of cancer. If you can embrace the utter INSANITY that is the Fat-A-Thon...then maybe you can relearn to appreciate the wonders of the life you live.

After all, you're not posting pictures of your rear-end on the internet. I am. That alone should make your day....