I am in a bit of a pickle right now. Physically - I am sure its nothing to worry overly about, but I need to manage the situation carefully from a kind of 'out of body' standpoint. Mentally - more of a torture.
Yesterday, as you know, I had nothing to eat all day.
I need to go into this further, so bear with me. I need to do this so that if possible I can stop scaring the be-wotsit out of myself.
I got up at 9:30. I took a coffee into the stakeout caravan. I drank it all.
I did the Clint Eastwood with the DHL man, and then came inside to clean my grottsville house.
After cleaning enough space in the kitchen to see the worktops, I then cooked eggs in 3 different ways for the family. I sat down with another coffee and my scrambled eggs. I was struggling with the coffee a little bit, and kind of waiting and willing it to go down so I could eat.
I had about 3 or 4 teaspoons of scrambled eggs, and knew that it was going to come back. It did.
I could not drink my coffee at the cinema, and it was cold by the time I got home. I microwaved it and was able to get most of it down once home.
Then the fatal popcorn. I had 1 piece, and it gave me that 'no way feeling' and barfed.
later on a few more pieces of popcorn, and a bit more barf.
Then I swilled 2 cold coffees down the sink, because although I wasn't really thinking about it, I obviously couldn't drink them. I love coffee, so its not something that hangs about for any length of time unless I cant drink it.
Then yesterday evening, had some gravy, tried some mashed swede, no go. Barf again. Then over the course of the evening I had another vomit, and another one.
Tried some more coffee, barf. Tasted an olive en-route to the sofa for a bit of telly... nope. Glass of wine stayed in the glass - less one sip down the plughole with the olive.
Tried again much later to do never fail 'sip a minute' and IT DIDN'T WORK. Started to get worried. Looked incessantly at blogs about banding and success stories on YouTube of people losing loads, and trying not to look at that doctor promoting himself converting LB into RNY's for the patients it didn't work for (and trying not to put myself in that category), and looking for some inner peace and inspiration.
I tried sip a minute again with a little success, then had an attack of something I haven't had for a long time... the drools. I haven't had my head over the sink with my mouth running water for a loooooong time. The last time was maybe over 18months ago or more. My cheeks felt tight and sour and you just feel like you want to chuck, but you don't and all this saliva just runs and runs and runs out of your mouth. And then barf.
It was 1:30am and DH and I were tired so we went to bed. He suggested trying again in bed, so I took a jug of hot water with lemon in it, to maybe cut through the mucus etc. A few sips - 3 minutes or 4 - I was puking back into the cup.
I was sick maybe 10 times that day.
I think I managed to keep down about 8 ounces of fluid in total (stakeout caravan coffee and cinema coffee - eventually) and no food.
So we lay down and I was getting a little bit of acid in my throat. I hasten to state that this was not heartburn, or acid reflux... it was a result of drinking and then puking lemon juice infused water.
I lay there with hubby gently slipping into dreamland and snoredom and just couldn't stay. I got up and came downstairs and started up YouTube and blogspot again. I read several peoples blogs from the beginning, and kind of wished that they had kept going as some of the posts were months old. A lot of the ones that were current were only maybe 5 or 6 month old blogs anyway. I didn't find any old timers that I didn't know about or anyone who has gone through similar shit, but there was some interesting stuff. Blogs are great as they give the good AND the bad.
Now, in this blog I keep it real. I have had/am having a hard time with my band. Like I have said before, Albert Ladysmith Steptoe and I do NOT get along a lot of the time, we kind of have to exist with each other. I have had a few months now where we have actually been having a second honeymoon, and right now I feel that its over, and I would even consider separation & divorce, if the legal fees weren't going to be so high and him get half my share of the sanity? I dont think so.
I read through loads of blogs, looked at loads of YouTube videos of people amazing journeys and how wonderful they have done. Some are 3 years out of surgery and lots 120lbs. Some are 18 months and lost 60lbs, some are 7 or 8 years down the track and have just had plastic surgery etc.
Did it inspire me? Honestly? No.
No it did not.
Why didn't it inspire me? I really don't know. I wanted inspiration, I wanted to 'get charged' get pumped up and feel better when I was having a shitty day and naff all to drink and feeling like crap-O and knowing that I was gonna burn like hellfire when I went to the bog because of the urine infection + having NO DRINKS all day! I was kind of wincing in advance just thinking about it. I needed a boost; needed to feel like this was all worth it. I was practically begging.
I looked at all these beautiful women, who's bands did them the power of good and they lost steadily and evidently just ate less, kind of healthy but with more than enough treats by the look of things and are now at their dream weights.
I just thought "You fuckers".
That is the honest truth. I begrudged them every single pound, I felt myself feel real anger at them. I felt cheated that my band has not been anything near what they had. I felt conspiracy theory-ish. They have just shammed this up so they can con us out of money at the cruel expense of our mental state.
I felt jealous and disbelieving of their so called weight loss. I found myself looking at them and thinking 'well you lost weight but your still ugly' kinds of things. I felt bitter, twisted and hateful and spiteful and just like the nastiest person on earth. I hated them and I hated myself.
Then I knew what it was. It was shame. I was ashamed. I should have felt ashamed about the way I was feeling about those YouTuber's but it was a much more deep rooted, personal shame that I am going to try to unlock right here.
I felt ashamed of myself. Or should that be I FEEL shame, present tense. I am ashamed that I couldn't get it right. I am ashamed that I overeat. I am ashamed that I just can't control myself. I am ashamed that everything I try ends up going to shit. I feel like the people at the side of the road after a car crash with all the rubber-neckers gawping at me and my fat. I want to hide. I wish I had never told anyone about this band and then I wouldn't have to excuse myself, or explain myself or have them watching me. Most have given up to be fair. There was such excitement at the first part of the journey, and now its just like they have given up on me. Like the kid left out of the party because their cool toy novelty value has worn thin.
If I had this surgery again, I would not tell a soul except for DH. I wouldn't tell my Mum, or my family. I wouldn't tell friends, I wouldn't tell anyone. I would make up a surgery - kidney stones, diverticulitis, an operation on my bowel of some sort for a blockage most likely. Then I would just get on with it. Why?
What is worse than being fat?
Telling people you had lapband surgery, and thereby admitting you are fat and cant control yourself by normal means, and 2 years after the event still be the same weight. That is worse than just being fat and getting on with your fat life.
Telling people I had a lapband was THE hardest thing. It was a mixture of elation and shame. I was ashamed that it had come to this - but elated that I was able to take my life back. But at the end of the day I was still admitting something EXTREMELY personal, and talking about a taboo subject that people just don't talk about. People never spoke to ME about my overweight bulk before I had the band. What they said to each other is no issue. What I dont know can't hurt me. Now they feel its a topic for open debate. Its so HUMILIATING
I am sure some people wonder if I really did have surgery. People always ask me about my weight - loss or gain - because I have had surgery. Also, its always in the negative because they don't understand - e.g.:
Picture the scene: chatting after a meeting with several people I don't know, but might want to get to know, in
attendance (so therefore actually care about my appearance).
Someone will undoubtably say:
"Yeah, well Bunny had weightloss surgery, but it didn't work, did it Bunny?"
and then all eyes on the fat bird. Check that lard ass out. Big tits... that a + possibly, but look at that huge bum - you could park a pie platter on it! Hell yeah she really needed surgery poor bastard.
They never mentioned it before, attention was never drawn to my weight in such a hostile and uncontrolled manner. Telling people means it crossed some kind of invisible barrier; it means its now ok to discuss the embarrassment of the fat girl in front of her peers like a clinical case.
Its easier to be fat and imagine people are looking at you, as opposed to being fat and having everyone expect you to shrink before their eyes, and NOT shrink and the fucking discuss it in front of you.
whats worse is:
"you should try the new Bla diet. It worked for So&So and she lost loads of weight." "So what went wrong, why didn't you lose?" "what about weightwatchers?" "You just need to eat less and
exercise more and it will drop off" "How did you do this week?" "have you thought about cutting down your portion sizes?" "Well, you always wear such nice clothes it doesn't notice that you are overweight" "Shall we all go out for a meal?" "Can't you just get it taken out and go back to normal."
When you want to lose weight and you don't... it sucks. When you have other people watching your failure its just so horrible.
What I hated about those video's was that I assume these people didn't go through this horrendous humiliation. They had the band, 6 months later whippets. Grand. Done. Bosh. No need to feel shame when you succeed. I am being publicly humiliated because I told them I had a band, I am now fair game to talk about, and failed aswell. Excellent conversation.
Maybe I should tell them I DON'T have one anymore as it didn't work, and just stop this endless cycle of hurt and shame. Mind you, I think the damage is done now. Then it will be a case of endless questions about how it didn't work, and I will be a pin up girl for 'don't bother with surgery' just eat less.
Just F'ing eat less. That has to be the worst put down I have ever heard in my life.
There was a woman a few months back on the news who suffered loads of abuse from her neighbours from hell. She was of German abstraction and had been living here for years and years. One day the neighbour yells "Schweinhund!". This means Pig-dog. A rather innocuous phrase that's kind of amusing because its such a crap put down in English. In German, this is a really horrible insult. Whatever. when some says "Just eat less and exercise and the weight will just drop off!" That is an innocuous phrase, but as bad an insult to me as schweinhund to a German.
I have a serious eating disorder and I am struggling to get a grip of myself. I don't need some stupid wanky do-gooder telling me the bleeding friggin' obvious. I am not fat because I am an ignorant neanderthal slob with no education and no knowledge of nutrition. In fact I bet that I could give that Gillian McKeith a serious run for her money on knowledge of nutrition, supplements and all things health - and while I am at it, what a bad advert for healthy living she is if you can be so ugly, pale, wan and wrinkled IMHO
Its like a person at a funeral trying to comfort the grieving next of kin by saying "He was a lovely chap" - of course he was. That's why he's flaming crying and upset that he has departed. No fucking shit Sherlock!
So after a massive Fear and Loathing in Bunny's Warren last night, and feeling proper pissed off and annoyed and hateful and half starved - thank goodness the knives weren't on display or home DIY surgery could have been seriously on the cards - I looked at the clock and it was 4:30am. A good 2 and half hours since I had last tried to drink.
I got a glass of water and have a sip. waited for 2 minutes. had a sip. waited for 2 minutes. had a sip. waited for 2 minutes. let the cat out because it has suddenly refused to use the cat flap. lost my counting. had a sip. waited 1 minute. had a sip. waited 1 minute. realised there was no restriction to the water and upped the time to 20 seconds. sip.20 secs.sip.20 secs.sip.15 secs.sip.15 secs.sip.15 secs.sip.15 secs. sip. sip. sip. glug. sip. glug YES! refilled glass and drank normally like a human being. Then made (very quietly) a milkshake that still had bits in because i couldn't use the blender thingy, and that went down too.
I then had a look at some footage of X-ray fills. It was pretty good. too much waffle if you ask me, but good footage. I realised I didn't know much about how the fluid flows. To be honest, I don't think i am particularly any the wiser, but at least I kind of have an idea of what happens now.
I think a combination of annoyance, lack of sustenance and not having any kind of support from my surgery provider at all, and knowing that these people had the same surgery as I did, after i did, but with the support of doctors they could see regularly, and a lot of interaction with other lapbanders or networks or at the very least access to regular check ups helped them, and I just felt "why me".
Reassessing the situation from yesterday, when I hated those people for getting what I wanted, and getting something that has evaded my clutches for so long, I think that is basically it. I have been cheated, but now its down to me. I need to get OVER myself and get on with the job. Quit moaning, quit procrastinating, quit pity and shame and just give them the bird.
So I went to bed after having some kind of nutrition and a drink.
This morning, guess what. I can't drink. I tried some black coffee, and its not happening. I threw it back and got rid of it. That was about 12pm.
I have resorted to the worst thing, not proud but I am desperate. I still have my antibiotics to get down me remember, and I haven't been able to be regular with the doses because of yesterdays barf-fest. I NEED to take my antibiotic for this morning, and haven't been able to, so I have done the cardinal sin and taken an aspirin.
I haven't done it much, but when it gets too tight, I need something to loosen things. Paracetamol, which is safe for bandsters does not relief the stomach swelling. I do not advise it in anyway, but if desperate, then its something I have done, and haven't noticed any problems. With NSAID's you run the risk of bleeding of the stomach, or ulcers in normal life, but with a band, you risk erosion. I am frightened about using them, but sometimes no other drug will work and i seriously need to take on water for my infection so I don't burn my urethra right out and piss myself to death.
So, I am going to have something to drink and am resorting to liquids for 3 days again to settle this shit down a bit.
Sorry for such a rant, and being such an arsehole. I apologise for being horrid straight up. I am over it now.
I have to remember to Fight when I am super tight.
So today, i have managed about 400mls water and 2 slurps of Protein shake. I stopped there. I had to go back to the doctor's anyway as they found something odd in my urine.
apparently they grew a sterile puss from my wee. Lush. That's ok if it comes with bugs. Bugs + puss = infection. treat with antibio's for a week, sorted. whats not so great is when you have Lupus, repeated UTI's and loin pain (for about 6 months now) and they grow puss. Just Puss.
So now I have to go and fart around having a scan on my kidneys and my bladder. Joyeux