September 2010
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Wednesday weigh-in: 224.5

248.5 | 224.5 | 140

I had a bad moment a couple days ago when it was looking like I might inch back up to the 230s. Nooooo! Not after all this work! Never again! Ew ew ew ew ew!

*whew* Looks like it was a false alarm. Hopefully after Aunt Flo visits, I’ll see even more of a drop.

Yeah, the weekend sucked. All the way to today sucked. I got nuthin’ else right now.

Monday Musing: Until next week

I’m attempting to institute more than one weekly feature at this blog, and this one seemed as good a one as any.

Trouble is, I had a REALLY rotten day today. Actually, I’ve had a rotten weekend. Feel like I have been put through a wringer. So, the well’s dry.

I will try to come up with something this coming week and schedule it for next Monday. But for right now, I ain’t got nothing.

Wednesday weigh-in: 226

248.5 | 226 | 140

Sorry about the blurry but I find that if I try to re-shoot, the scale subtracts half a pound the second time I step on. While I guess that is a bit of a psychological boost, come on now. I’m losing the weight anyway. The half-pound will disappear for real before long. No need to boost it.

I suppose I could try to sharpen it in Paint Shop Pro, but I can’t be arsed to find the software disc just now. I got a new laptop about a month ago and have had to start over with everything, I just haven’t gotten to that part yet.

I’m still fighting with an appetite that is more or less shot. My insides seem to have calmed down some, I just can’t bring myself to eat more than once or twice a day. I try to make up some of the difference with a protein shake; I add things to it like coconut milk and heavy cream. Works all right, I guess. I try to remember my supplements too. It is not a perfect solution, but it will do for now.

I had a doctor’s appointment last Friday. I don’t have the hard numbers in front of me, but they’ll be sending my lab results along any old day now. They told me over the phone that all the numbers were in normal range. I’m kind of impatient to see what those numbers are specifically. But it’s hilarious that here I am, over two hundred pounds, eating all the fat I want to eat, and yet my blood pressure is normal (yes, that too) and my labs are great so far. I’m still suspicious I have some kind of underlying autoimmune thing, possibly involving my thyroid–but with a normal TSH we’ll just have to wait and see. Meanwhile I have the numbers of someone at least fifty pounds lighter than I am, if not more. Go figure.

Since I suppose this is when I usually offer updates on what’s going on with me, I had mentioned several posts ago that I was once again engaged to my high school sweetheart. Well, then we hit a huge snag. I am not getting into the dirty little details here, but I got some serious exercise in basing my judgment of a person on what I know of that person, not on propaganda or conventional wisdom. We’re not engaged anymore at this point, and I feel kind of silly for jumping into it that fast given that we haven’t even met again yet, but I feel strongly that my future lies in his direction and I feel pretty darned OK about it. Still have a lot of details to figure out first. They’ll get figured. It is just a matter of time.

Monday Musing: Coming out of my shell

I’ve probably mentioned about three zillion times that I feel like I’m wearing a fat suit, even though I’ve been overweight since 1996 and obese since 2005.

Discovered something interesting today. If I stand up straight and run my hands down my sides and over my body, I can feel where the fat deposits begin. I can tell what curves are supposed to be there and which ones are not. It is strange, let me tell you, to find your own ass below all the chunk.

It’s as if I lived in a house where for some inexplicable reason I suddenly decided to expand the attic, the basement, and the storage shed out back. That would make the house and yard look pretty damn weird and distort all the lines. It’d be difficult to see what the house was actually supposed to look like.

That’s what’s gone on with me. The fat acceptance folks try to frame this as just another shape for the body to take, but it’s not the whole body, it’s just the energy storage. Taking on a different shape would require adding on another bedroom to the back of the house, not expanding the basement. You do have a distinct set of facial features and a specific body shape that get covered up under all this stuff. Have you ever noticed how alike fat people look? There are only a few ways the fat’s going to deposit, and everyone of a particular deposit type takes on a sameness. FA people talk about embracing your individuality when actually, you’re losing it.

I look more like myself with my cheekbones than without them. I rather like my body parts being distinct from one another as well, rather than being melted down into a huge amorphous mass.

I decided this past week I wanted to encourage that process along on a psychological level. For instance, my boobs kind of melt into my belly. I hadn’t worn a bra since my daughter was a baby, something like five years now. Off to Lane Bryant I went. I didn’t even know my size. The sales associate was very helpful and did her best to get me started with a tape measure, but she pegged me at 40D or 40DD when what I needed was a 44 and I fit better in a C. But it was a start, and I figured out the rest in the fitting room.

I picked up a few underwires there and found some sports bras at Meijer. Been going around in the latter underneath my t-shirts. It’s weird, leading yourself around by the boobs when they pointed at the floor for so long and tried so hard to blend into the background. If mine don’t shrink much more than this, I’ll have me a rack when the gut’s gone. I suppose there are worse things.

And speaking of t-shirts. I’ve been going around in gunny sacks for way too long now. Mind you, I like me a few quirky t-shirts. Like this one:

And it’s all well and good to have a few of those in the ol’ wardrobe. Problem is that’s all I have: short-sleeved tees for summer, usually with something witty printed on them; long-sleeved tees for the colder months, plus a sweatshirt or two; and the odd flannel shirt. And the pants? We won’t even get into the pants. Well, I will or else my ass will be hanging in the breeze and man, you do NOT want that right now… but you know what I mean. I’m glad to know size 24s are too big for me now, I just wish I didn’t have to be reminded of that every damn day.

So it’s not just the fat, for me, that’s turned me into this great amorphous mass. The clothing hasn’t helped. The gunny-sack look has got to go. For Pete’s sake, I have always had a waist, even at my heaviest. I haven’t wanted to play it up since that would just make my ass visually explode (hey, it beats some other ways it could explode!), but I also wind up feeling like a big dumb kid because I don’t look, strictly speaking, properly woman-shaped anymore.

With that in mind I also picked up a few clearance tops at LB and will be on the prowl for pants I can stand to wear. This is going to be interesting because before I got fat I didn’t worry about hiding problem spots–I didn’t have any–and after I got fat I just shopped for size. Never thought about cut or anything else. I’ll have to think about that now so I can ditch the Giant Child look, show the girls off to best advantage, and so on and so forth.

And this is so weird. I keep telling myself money’s tight, that this is just a waste of time, that I’m not gonna be able to lose all the excess anyway so why bother, and so on and so forth. I’m not used to paying this amount of attention to myself. I wonder how long I’ll be able to sustain the effort before I crack up.

Boy I tell ya, those before and after photos and success stories from people who’ve lost weight do NOT give you the whole picture. They don’t tell you about the piddly little things you wind up having to do in between Before and After. Nor how weird you’re going to feel while you’re getting them done. At least so far I feel more like a Martian anthropologist than I do like a mental case. Which is a nice change.

OK, buy your own Interstate highway then

This is a bit off-topic but since my fellow LC blogger feels the need to get on his soapbox about it, I’ll put my own two cents in, especially in case he doesn’t un-moderate my comment. (He doesn’t mind dissent, so he probably will un-moderate it, but just the same.)

Here’s his post. Here’s my answer:

I agree that government intrusion into personal information is bad. However, government paying for health care doesn’t necessitate the government intrusion into personal information, at least not to the degree we are seeing now.

Medicare is socialized medicine, yet somehow the elderly and disabled (certain disabilities qualify for the program) have managed to live their lives without being rounded up and forcibly put on diet pills for the last 50 years. And there are a lot of fat old people.

The military health care system is socialized medicine, yet somehow the only beneficiaries of it who are picked on about their weight are the ones serving as active-duty military–which, you may be surprised to learn, are only a fraction of MHCS beneficiaries. The rest are family members of active duty, military retirees, and family members of military retirees, none of which are required to maintain any specific BMI. And the active-duty folks are only picked on about their BMI because military readiness is at issue.

By the way, the military health care system costs about one-fifth of the DOD budget as of 2007, according to the conservative Heritage Foundation. (I looked. Google is amazing, innit?) That’s kind of a high number, but considering who all it covers and the range of medical problems they have, and how much DOD likes to spend on seemingly inexpensive items like hammers and toilet seats, it’s still pretty amazing. I wasn’t clear on whether the number included CHAMPUS/TriCare, but I would guess it does.

There is a lot that’s wrong with the health care reform bill (I almost spelled that “bull”) recently signed into law. But making everyone pay into health insurance isn’t part of what’s wrong. I used to think it was. Then I had it pointed out to me that the health insurance system is not viable if only sick people are paying for it. It’s something to do with an imbalance between seller advantage and buyer advantage, the same issue that makes the used-car industry such a tough moneymaker for car sellers. Only in the case of used cars, the seller is the one with the advantage, while with health insurance the buyer has the advantage. Used-car prices are stagnant because there’s only so much a buyer will pay while knowing less than the seller about the product. Health insurance companies stand to go out of business with only the buyer knowing about his or her health status. It’s amazing it hasn’t happened already.

Basically the bill’s there to keep health insurance companies viable. That’s pretty bad too, but nobody wanted actual socialized medicine, so this was the compromise they came up with. If people would stop knee-jerking about Communism every time the subject of single-payer medicine comes up, we wouldn’t have been saddled with this huge boondoggle. Going single-payer would have slashed administrative costs like you wouldn’t believe, and we’d be looking at that one-fifth number rather than the monstrosity this will someday become since the health insurance companies never saw a profit they didn’t like.

By the way there’s nothing in the Constitution that says we have to have a standing army either. It only says, paraphrased, that the federal government’s in charge of national defense. If we’re going to be precious about Constitutional details then let’s dismantle every base we have on foreign soil and bring all the troops home unless this nation is actually under attack from another distinct nation’s official military, which was the purpose of the United States military to begin with.

Of course, I view health care as national defense, since sickness kills more of us than war does. And at least half the time, this nation asks for it when we wind up at war anyway. So if it’s OK to go bomb someone when we provoked them to begin with, it has to be OK for everybody to foot the bill when someone gets fat on purpose. Assuming, um, that people do get fat on purpose. Bet you know the answer to that one.

None of this, of course, has anything to do with the government sticking its nose into our business. I still object to that. But I don’t think it’s a necessary aspect of paying for a service. I, a taxpayer, pay for rangers to oversee my national parks, but that doesn’t mean I pay attention to how much my local rangers fudge their time sheets. Your mileage may vary, I suppose.

People. Do you pay for your own military, your own police force, your own firefighters, and your own Interstate highway system? No, you do not. You do not foot the entire bill. Each of you does not foot the entire bill. Instead, each of you is only responsible for a fraction of it.

You don’t mind paying for those things. Why do you mind paying for health care?

Don’t tell me “it’s unconstitutional.” Where is Interstate 55 found in the Constitution? Or a standing army, even?

There’s this great myth that health care would be cheaper if we’d never had insurance to begin with. Bullshit. Insurance was begun precisely because middle-class people had trouble paying for a doctor. Never mind what the poor were going through. But of course, if you earn less than $75k a year, you don’t really count anyway.

I meant to ask my doctor yesterday, when I went in for my first checkup in five years, for a price sheet just out of curiosity of what it would cost to pay cash. I’m due for a girly-bits checkup in the next several weeks, and I will try to remember when I go back in, and then share with all of you.

But even if a doctor visit is only a hundred bucks, if you happen to be earning $800 a month, that is a HUGE expense. And I assure you, there are full-grown adults–with children–earning just that amount.

And you better bet doctor visits are not that cheap. And that’s the cash price, that they will charge you WITH A DISCOUNT because thanks to your cash payment they don’t have to deal with administrative or collection costs.

Think about that. And ask yourself why so many of your own countrymen/women are so willing to watch you stay sick or die just so they have ten extra bucks in their paycheck.

No, the government should not track individual people’s BMIs. (If it tracks trends, I’m not quite as concerned about that, as long as personal data are not attached to the information. I still wonder why they’d bother, but it’s not as much of a privacy threat.) But guess what? Some necessary things in life are expensive, and it’s easier if everyone pays a little bit of a big thing than if every individual is left to cope with the full price alone.

And hey, if the Constitution is an issue, I’m not above changing it to cover health care. Seriously. Let’s write up an amendment and get it ratified. I’m game if you are.

Blast from the past!

I think sometimes we think of fat people as permanently, perpetually porcine. At least, if we have only known them for a short time, and never knew them when they were younger.

Hey! I know! Allow me to demonstrate. You know that awesome Fattie Self photo I posted in the last post? Here it is again in case you missed it:

But wait! There’s more! This is also me!

Despite what I named the photo file, this is from autumn 1991, during Homecoming Week in my senior year of high school. I’m on the left, applying eyeliner pawprints (our mascot was the cougar) to a chorus classmate’s face.

Woooooow. So all the fat musta been around my middle, right? Fattiefattietwobyfour.

*bzzt* Wrong!

Two of the people in that photo are dudes. Which means the lil hottie squatting on the floor in that ridiculous pose suggested by the yearbook photographer MUST BE ME.

Late January or early February 1992, suckas. Same weight as I was during Homecoming Week.

Ain’t that something?

Jamie and Proper Dana (I’m Other Dana) and I were all joking around the other day when I posted about losing eight pounds in a week and was describing what my ass used to looked like. Here you go, grrrls. Pictures and it DID happen. Booyah.

I WILL see that ass in the mirror again. Oh, yes. I will.

Wednesday weigh-in: 225.5

248.5 | 225.5 | 140

I’ve been through the emotional wringer lately. A lot of that’s been self-induced. It’s obvious I have a lot of emotional baggage to dump along with the excess fat. Delightful experience, let me tell you. Losing weight is far more fun, even if there are foods that are off-limits. If you have to choose between the two, ditch the fucking bread.

OK, OK, I suppose we’re happier in the long run if we dump emotional baggage, so goes the theory. But still. And I don’t quite believe I’m going through all this because I’m losing the weight. I don’t believe people get fat because they’re hiding from their feelings. I don’t have the space to get into it here, just know that I don’t believe that. It’s just another way to paint fat people as defective. Funny how we want to zero in on every possible defect except the actual one facing fat people; when it’s suggested it might just be a metabolic defect or hormonal imbalance, most people laugh that idea off. They’d rather believe we have Issues. Whatever.

Anyway. This is about my progress so let’s not get toooooo philosophical.
(Read more…)

Body changes with weight loss

There’s a lot of talk about what kind of changes a person goes through who has lost a lot of weight. I thought I would share what I’m going through at the moment even though I’m nowhere near goal. Twenty-two pounds gone is more than enough to start noticing a difference. I mean, shit, I noticed differences between 130 and 135–like, I would have better cheekbones at 130. It just takes a bit more loss to notice when you’re already a fattie.
(Read more…)

Wednesday weigh-in: 226.5

Allons enfants de la Patrie… Le jour de gloire est arrivé! Bonne Bastille pour tous les français partout.

(In case you didn’t know, mine is a French surname. Mon français est terrible, though. Thank God for Internet translators.)

248.5 | 226.5 | 140

Uh. Eight pounds in one week? Whoops. I mean, I’m happy to see it gone, don’t get me wrong, but I hope it was all fat and not other stuff.

I’ve since deleted it for the sappiness level, but I had a post up here about finding my high school sweetheart (or, more accurately, him finding me) in the past few months. Since that time my appetite has been shot all to hell. Or I will get hungry but will be too distracted to fix something. It’s like I don’t even want to bother. I am trying to figure that out and drawing a blank. I try to do that big-meal thing to alleviate the hazards of not eating all day, then it would be more like intermittent fasting… but I don’t have the stomach space for a huge meal, especially if my favorite go-to LC food, the flatiron steak, is involved.

I’ve heard of people being so infatuated or in love or whatever (the latter case for me, well, OK, infatuation’s seriously in play right now too) that they have no appetite. Guess I got hit this time. Yay.

Plus, I’ve been more sleep-deprived than usual because he’s three hours behind me and we talk on the phone late at night. He is pulling 18-hour days now because his work is seasonal and he wants to get money together to get me and my daughter moved out there next year. So about the time he’s ready to settle down for the night, it is already midnight or later my time. It is not unusual for me to stay up until 4 or 5am, chatting with him on Facebook or the phone. Last weekend, I even pulled an all-nighter.

(But during that all-nighter I asked him to marry me. He asked last time, I did the breaking-up, and I was totally unfair about it given the circumstances, so I figured it was my turn this time.)

I’ve found that sleep deprivation wrecks my appetite as well, so it’s a one-two punch going on right now.

I’m glad the weight is dropping off but not at risk of my health. I at least need to get some protein shakes into me every day, with some good fats added, if I’m going to cope with this in the long run and not lose my shit.

He doesn’t care what weight I am anyway (and he also told me that years ago, a startling revelation to come out of the mouth of a high-school boy). I’m still just losing it for me. So, one pound a week or eight, doesn’t make much difference.

In other news, I was linked by Free The Animal (see my blogroll there in the sidebar) for my previous post about the China Study. I was a little surprised, since I didn’t have much new to offer to the discussion, but I’ll take it. I like Free The Animal, and you will too, if you’re interested in all things Paleo. I think he really just wanted to pile on the idiot who headed the study, anyway. Clusterfuck? Chesterbutt? What’s his name again? OK, OK, I’ll stop. :P

(edit: Campbell. Damn. I wasn’t even close. Snarky Fail! Hahahahaha.)

Yeah. Maybe I can go for cheerful-snarky-curmudgeonly around here. That works. I’m too happy to be a real grouch.

Buh-bye, China Study

I’d heard of the China Study which supposedly proves veganism is healthier than eating animal foods. But I hadn’t read the book, so really couldn’t have an opinion about it. I’d heard from some LC bloggers that it was bunk, but again, nothing definite.

That all changed today. I think it’s time for T. Colin Campbell to get a real job.

If you’re a numbers junkie and haven’t seen this brilliant blog post already, go NOW. You will be catatonic with delight. And she lays out Campbell’s own data in a way that even a statistics-ignorant layperson like me can somewhat understand.

Aaand… she’s very neutral in tone. She is not pushing any particular agenda. She just wanted to see if the numbers lined up.

So there you go. Have fun, kiddies. Unless you’re vegan, in which case you’ll ignore her completely and pretend there are no problems at all with the study. Good luck with that, ya hear?

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