Recovery Notes

What freaked me out most after the endometrial ablation wasn't anything I'd anticipated. The cramping has been minimal-to-nonexistent, all after-effects as far as bonding with absorbent devices is concerned has been minimal. All in all, it's been negligible... that is, except the weight gain. The first time I got on the scale post-procedure it was up near 145.

That's 8-10 pounds higher than it was pre-op. YIPES!! And yes, it was all fluid retention. Holy cow.

I guess because most of my recovery has been a non-issue, part of my brain has been thinking that the ablation was more or less a non-procedure. Nope, not true. My body at least recognizes that it's been traumatized, and from what I can figure it's been recognizing that by bloating like crazy. And not only was my abdomen bloated, but also my chest (I almost outgrew my bras -- eeek!), and additionally my lower back.

I think that last was the weirdest part. I'd put my hands on my hips, but sort of toward my back, and I realized it felt different. Fuller. I kept poking and poking at myself and wondering, "Huh... maybe I just didn't realize how much padding I have back here," even though I knew that something was off.

I should have trusted my gut. Because this morning, after having a weekend of having to run to the potty every hour or so, most of the bloat has vanished (including the majority of the back bloat) and put me at 137-ish.

Back bloat. Huh. Who knew?

Hooray, I'm Conscious!

Followed by School Chicken News

Hey there everyone :) Yes, I'm alive and well after the endometrial ablation yesterday. My procedure was scheduled for noon, but because my veins behaved in their historic fashion by running away thus requiring the services of the nurse who is, apparently, magic with IV insertion, I ended up going in after the person who was supposed to go after me, but I did eventually make it in. First I was in the OR, chatting with the nurses, and next thing I knew I was waking up on the recovery side of the center.

The only thing I felt was dizziness and nausea after I woke up -- no pain whatsoever. Everything went smoothly, with no surprises found during the hysteroscopy portion of the procedure. YES! Choreboy and I left the surgical center in late/mid afternoon and went to my parents' house to pick up the Gum Zombie (who's been sick, bless his heart) and to feed me a little bit of my mother's homemade macaroni and cheese. It was good, but the dryness in my mouth (I figure it was caused either by the anesthesia, the fact that my mouth was cranked open with a tube in it, lack of oral fluid intake, or a combination of factors?) made it kind of stick. Still, nothing a little Diet Coke couldn't cure.

As soon as we got home I fell into bed and crashed. I woke up about midnight, still a little wobbly and "ooky", but nothing remarkable, and by 2:30 AM the wobbliness and residual nausea had mostly gone away. I was back asleep around 4:30 AM, after eating my microwaved Quarter Pounder with Cheese, and woke up for good around 7:00 AM today.

For the record, about my doctor saying all I would need would be aspirin: she was right! I haven't even felt a twinge of a cramp. From purely anecdotal reports I've read online (like on this endometrial ablation discussion board), easier recoveries tend to be more the norm with the NovaSure procedure*, which is what I had. Not every woman has as easy a time as I'm having even with NovaSure, and I know I'm under 24 hours out so things could change, but I have to say that at this time I'm tickled pink.

*Disclaimer: this applies to my experience only, remember "anecdote" is not equivalent to "data", and that any decisions regarding your health care should not be based on my experience or that of any other layperson, but rather between you and your chosen medical professional. I received nothing from NovaSure for this statement (although if the fine people at Hologic® want to change that I'm open to compensation :P).

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Now what's that chicken stuff about in the subtitle? Well, here's my Facebook status from about a month ago:


I live in central Florida, and contrary to popular misconceptions the entire area isn't one giant theme park. I'm in one of the larger towns, but we still have our rural touches especially in the unincorporated areas:


Charlotte (no, not that Charlotte!) is now the Gum Zombie's elementary school's official pet chicken. Yes, they love her so much the entire school voted on her name. Hee :)

Near as we can figure out, she wandered over from the pasture next door (which also contains an assortment of goats and two donkeys), decided she likes it just fine where she is right now, thankyouverymuch, and is not leaving. It's really kind of fun, as you don't know where Charlotte is going to show up next! Kind of like "Where's Waldo," with bonus chicken droppings.

Only in my county, folks. Visit Legoland, and see Charlotte the School Chicken! Y'all come back now, y'hear?

Update

Hey everyone, just a quick heads-up to let you know I'm alive and all that happy stuff. Still 135-136 on weight, it's just so depressing that I'm not bothering to record it even though I weigh in every other day or so.

The last 5-ish pounds sucks.

I have the endometrial ablation in the morning (Friday) and I'm freaking out at the moment. I hate general anesthesia but, in spite of my insistence on deliberately birthing #2 son at home, I'm not hardcore to the point where I just want a local and a bullet to bite on.

So on the one hand, aspirin only?* Am I to take this seriously as a surgical-ish procedure? But on the other hand, general anesthesia. Riiiight...

Freaked out would definitely cover it. I'll update tomorrow after I get home. Or sometime this weekend. Here's hoping I'm like the women I've seen who've had the EA (Novasure is the exact procedure I'm having) who barely even cramped, rather than the ones who woke up in the middle of the night for pain meds to stay on top of it.

Nite, y'all. I hope someone sleeps tonight. It isn't going to be me. If the anxiety doesn't get me, the Cytotec will. Yippie.

*edited to add, this is what my doctor is recommending for post-operative pain relief. No prescription, which is fine, I'm just scared that she's too optimistic and I don't want to be curled up in the fetal position praying for death.

WW Weigh-In, Week 35

Weight: 135.75
Mood: weirdly relieved

Because it could have been worse.

And for the record, I did weigh myself yesterday and I even posted the weight in my sidebar. Unfortunately I ran out of time to get up a blog post. But the weight was entered.

Now I just need to stay on track as much as I can, and get my exercise in for the next two weeks because I'm going to be pretty sidelined after that for a bit. No, not forever, but I don't yet have word on how long I'll be out of commission for anything more than light walking (research tells me 2-6 weeks, depending on ablation type and physician preference). So best get it in while I'm able, and and afterward pay attention to what goes on in the kitchen because I'm not going to have much else to help me!

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In other aging news, today's whine is my current Facebook status:


One of my friends suggested coloring in the hair with an eyeliner pencil. Not that she's ever had to do this herself...

Have a great weekend, all!

Let's See if I Remember to Weigh In Tomorrow...

And why would I, a perfectly rational, sane adult forget to weigh in tomorrow?

For the exact same reason the Gum Zombie "forgot" his math book after I told him Tuesday morning that every night would be Math!Night here at Casa Justice. That is, until he nails multiplication/ division facts into his amazingly gyrating brain and tops it off with a heaping helping of fractions.

Poor kid. It took me until I was almost 30 to figure out that math is just another language. And I'd like for him to finish 3rd grade in well under twenty years.

So... yeah. Remembering to weigh in, and to put that number up here. Post-Reese's and post-vacation.

Ugh.

Oh, and just to cheer everyone up endlessly with more of Amanda's TMI-Fest, I finally have my ablation scheduled. Yay! It's set for November 18th, which means I'm both relieved and freaking out. My period or whatever it was this last time lasted 26 days. Sheesh, I should update my sidebar. So... yeah. I'm about done with that. We'll see how bad the recovery is. I have an appointment to get my roots touched up on the 19th, so I'd better be minimally functional the next day.

I am not missing that hair appointment, y'all. I had 3-month-long roots last time I went in for a touch-up and there will be no repeating of that travesty. Bad enough I'm feeling like some dried up useless husk of an aging female (and the kicker is that I know better than that! And I'm done having kids anyway, so what do I care that fertility is out the window? And... and... and... *headdesk*); I will NOT be some useless old husk of an aging female with multiple months of grey hair growth at her roots.

If I'm going to be a husk, at least I'll be a blonde one. Dammit.

So there.

Now I'm going to shuffle off and remind myself that chocolate* isn't going to solve this.

*Problem is, I'm pretty sure that the combination of chocolate and peanut butter might.

The Best Laid Plans

It's good to recover from vacation.

And I know the last entry was rather "blah". Seriously, though, after the events at the end of vacation (followed up, might I add, by the Elder wanting me to commit his Lego Wish List to memory -- EXCUSE me?) I think my brain finally fried.

All in all, we had a great time, the boys most especially. Choreboy and I plan to go back by ourselves to one of the parks (either Epcot or Hollywood Studios) and just enjoy rather than running willy-nilly from line to line. He's not into thrill rides too much anymore -- they're making his stomach leap about -- and I figure I can forego a rollercoaster or two in the spirit of marital cooperation :)

I'm having a bit of trouble getting back on track food-wise. I don't usually keep much tempting stuff at home, but with the holidays looming I've got it around every corner. It's even invading at work, and honestly it's driving me batshit crazy. I lost the vacation bloat pretty quickly, but I couldn't tell you how much I weigh right now because I'm totally avoiding the scale.

Until this coming Thursday, that is. November 3rd. I have a feeling -- okay, a certainty -- I won't make the 130-lb goal by then (official goal date was 11/2/11). But what I can do is eat well this weekend and in the upcoming days and be as close to it as I can. Exercise is good, but ultimately weight loss comes from the kitchen.

Speaking of exercise, I was right back on the ball with my Jillian Michaels circuit training. Yeah, see the past tense there? Yesterday morning I got distracted while stepping over the doggy gate into the kitchen, and managed to faceplant myself right on the extremely ugly, hard, mid-eighties vinyl floor. I was carrying my iPad and a Diet Coke at the time and am happy to report that they escaped without injury (I'm such a Diet Coke fiend that I manage to keep them upright when I fall). My right wrist and right knee -- the bad one -- are extremely unhappy, however. So it's back to just watching the food here, at least for a few days.

Big goal of the week? STEP AWAY FROM THE CANDY BOWL, AMANDA!

Vacation, Home From

Whew.

We went to Disney for a few days this week. Left home on Wednesday, and got back about half an hour ago. We visited four parks in two days and the boys had a blast. The highlight of their trip (outside of the resort's pool -- we stayed on the Disney site at Port Orleans - French Quarter) was getting to ride the Expedition Everest roller coaster at Animal Kingdom five times in a row during the "Extra Magic Hours" timeslot for resort guests and pass holders. Meanwhile I lost my new glasses and my sunglasses case, so I couldn't see after dark (because I was wearing the sunglasses but had the regular ones in the sunglass case). Then I was sick all day Saturday, which to be honest could have been worse -- at least we were done with the parks and were having a planned "rest at the resort" day. Then one of the children has a massive systems malfunction of the intestinal variety Saturday night...

So, more later. Right now, I'm definitely on the "I need a vacation from my vacation" train.

WW Weigh-In, Week 32

Subtitled: Really, you'd think this would be going better...

Weight: 135.25
Mood: "..."

I'm so frustrated.

[TMI-fest begins here... just so you're warned.]

On the plus side, I got the results of my ovarian cyst rescan and all is well. Well, the specifics are that the cyst on the right side, which was 3 cm diameter, has gone down to 1 cm. But now there are 3 cysts on the left ovary, two at 1 cm each, and one at 2 cm diameter. Entertaining, no? But from how it was explained to me, the fact that the cysts are flip-flopping sides and decreasing in size over time means this is just more of the hormonal hullabaloo that accompanies the perimenopausal shift.

We also did an endometrial biopsy, because as of yet my period has not started. Or maybe it has. I can't tell at this point. It's been 75 days... or so? I do know that I'm bloated as all get-out, and I'm really aggravated that I cleaned out my bra drawer last weekend. I tossed the larger cups, and right now I NEED THEM.

Oh, and I have a zit right below the right corner of my mouth. It wouldn't be so bad except it emphasizes where gravity is pulling down and is making me Google "face lift".

Anyway, I have an appointment for a week from Monday to review the results of the endometrial biopsy and figure out where we're going from there. Apparently the cystic madness changes things to a degree. Or maybe not. I'll worry about it later. I'm on vacation this week, so the heck with all of them :P

Of course, I'm going in to work today. I know, I'm on vacation. And it's Saturday. But some things just don't wait. It's all good, though, because at this point I need the extra hours to make up for all these blasted doctor's appointments.

Food-wise, I've had a rough time of it. It's not what I used to describe as a "bad time", and I catch and stop myself from making less than awesome choices -- sometimes I catch myself and kind of look the other way -- but I swear I feel like I'm losing my mind. Give me greasy food and give it to me NOW! Preferably super-sized. Thankfully, Ann wrote an awesome post over at Dr. Fat to Fit that really helped me get my mental mojo back. Lady seriously rocks. My goal for this next week is to NOT use vacation as an excuse to consume mass quantities. I plan to have fun, but I'm going to maintain my focus on whole foods and movement, and hope to come out of this with a decent weigh-in in a couple of weeks.

Have a good one y'all!

WW Weigh-In, Week 31

Weight: 134.75
Mood: I don't want to talk about it.

Okay, it's hormones. At my weight I can claim that and with the insanity my body is committing against me at the moment*, let's just say that if anyone dares to argue with me on this front at this time, they're going to get a big, whopping dose of Krayzee upside the head, mmmkay???

*TMI ALERT - skip to picture below second set of asterisks to avoid TMI!!
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I've been spotting since Sunday, but only spotting and just barely. So tell me, does this count as a period? Or not? I can't tell to save my life. I'm fluid-y, in spite of being well-hydrated enough to withstand a month-long drought. I'm a teensy bit cranky... but it's not what I'm used to, considering that my usual state of affairs period-wise tends to be more "tsunami" than "meh". Yanno? If it's not a period, I'm at 67 days and counting. And I'm still waiting on the call back on my cyst rescan. It's been a week and no news tends to be good news. Dr. Google keeps calling, though. Damn his hide.
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Okay, TMI-fest over. Now y'all know I love SparkPeople and almost everything about it, right? That said, check out this screen capture from my food log:

You know, there are some things I just assumed were a given. Apparently I was wrong.

Have a great weekend, folks!

Before & After

If you click through the slideshow you'll see a few familiar faces. If you get all the way to slides 17 and 18, you'll see mine.

http://www.more.com/amazing-weight-loss-transformations

What kills me is the Diet Coke in my "before" picture. Because that makes it all better, yanno? Sheesh :)

WW Weigh-In, Week 30

Weight: 133.5
Mood: vindicated

Now that's more like it, and bears out my theory that last week's spike was fluid retention of some sort. It might have been because I was coming down with a nasty cold though (snotty nose, moving to chest congestion, but at least it's improving to a degree), because "our little friend" still hasn't shown up after 59 days as of today, which makes this officially the longest I've gone without. I'd be dancing in the streets if it weren't for the other concerns. Oh well, repeat ultrasound is tomorrow so I'll have something more concrete soon. Yay!

Average daily caloric intake over the week was right at 1300 calories. I had a higher calorie day on Saturday because Choreboy and I went out to dinner at the local "We Try To Serve Cajun Food And Don't Do It Too Badly (But It's Still Not Real Jambalaya)" restaurant, and I didn't hold back. The chocolate bread pudding was awesome, by the way. After that higher calorie day is when the cold finally hit (in fact I was getting stuffy nosed at dinner which was decidedly unfun) and since I couldn't work out I kept my intake around 1200 a day. So it all evened out and resulted in a loss. Yes!

I also realized that my exercise wasn't as intense as I thought it was. I ended up joining the Jillian Michaels website and did two of her circuit training sessions before The Cold hit; holy crap, let me tell you, that's some serious stuff! The first one I was drooling and feeling ill... it wasn't pretty. The second one I felt only mildly less like death afterward. But I will note that it was an improvement. So the plan is to continue with her circuits 4 days a week, my own cardio on the 5th day (or at least I think it is -- I may have to clarify with my coach), and go from there.

That is, after I shake this chest congestion. Ick. My mother's just getting better after a lovely round of pneumonia, so my brain is naturally (for me) going into overdrive. Gotta love it. It's only sheer willpower that keeps me from another consult with Dr. Google.

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On another note, I wanted to say thank you to all of you who read and comment here. It makes me feel a bit less like a voice shouting in the wilderness, you know? I try to reply to all comments and it just doesn't happen some weeks, but I wanted you all to know that I really do appreciate that you take time out of your lives to come by and drop me a line.

Y'all seriously rock.

WW Weigh-In, Week 29

Weight: 136.25
Mood: *snort*

Food intake for the week? Good. Daily caloric intake averaged 1364 for the week, which is right around my supposed BMR not accounting for any activity over basically breathing. Burned 2000 calories with cardio. Also lifted 3x this week. Water intake was superb -- minimum 64 ounces per day, most days over 100. Protein intake was excellent. All whole grain bread. Very little refined intake. Basically, it's what I did the two weeks prior when I lost weight. Perhaps even better on the water intake front.

With all this, I'd expect a loss. Just a teensy one, perhaps. Maybe drop down to 134? I'd even take maintaining. But NOOoooooooooo... instead I gained almost two pounds.

Tell me about the math, people. Oh do.

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Now that I've vented, most likely I'm dealing with more hormonal joy. As of today it's been 52 days since "that special time" showed up. And although this isn't the longest I've gone (58 days), it's long enough to definitely count as a "miss" since I usually run on a 26-day cycle. I still don't have any updates on the ovarian cyst. I don't even know the size of that sucker. Maybe it's growing? Could be. I have the repeat ultrasound on the 30th, so I should have some news within a week after that.

And because I'm a masochistic freak, I keep googling "ovarian cyst". Like that's going to do any good. All it does is make me flip through the boatload of errant information I've now got floating through my brain, worrying about causation, malignancy, potential abdominal scars... yes, from the legitimately worrisome (though unlikely) to the petty. I don't have any scars on my abdomen as of this time and I'd like to keep it that way, thankyouverymuch. Not that anyone much sees my gut, but still. It's the principle of the thing.

So what do I do now? I wait... at least until I get the ultrasound results back. And I contemplate joining Jillian Michaels' website. Or a gym. Or both. It may be time to shake things up a bit more.

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In other news, tonight is the Elder's Open House. Middle school, insufficient parking, zoo-like atmosphere, and no time to eat between work and the time it starts. The offspring will be munching granola bars, and I'm going to hope my afternoon apple-and-yogurt (Fage rocks, for the record) holds me over.

Pray for us.

WW Weigh-In, Week 28

Weight: 134.5
Mood: I feel like Tim Conway's "Little Old Man" character...

Slow-moving much? I know, I know, it's going in the right direction. And yes, I'm definitely happy about that! Better down than up, even if it's only a quarter of a pound. That's a stick of butter. And at my weight, I'd better remember that. It all adds up. Although I will say that at this rate, the last five pounds might be off by January.

Of 2013.

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In other news (this is getting to be a pattern, no?) I've had some totally phenomenal non-scale-victories this week! For one thing, I ran an entire quarter mile straight. So it was on my treadmill, and in this realm of actual 5K runners -- forget marathoners -- I know that's not a big deal, but in my little "Amanda Tries Couch-to-5K and Develops Stress Fractures in Both Legs" world? It's freaking huge! In fact, running for distance seems to work better for me mentally than running against a clock does. Somehow, watching a distance-oriented goal approach enables me to run longer than staring at the stopwatch counting down.

And for the record, Ke$ha's "Blow" rocks for getting that energy back up right when I'm flagging. Yes, I'm 41 and listening to a girl who spells her name with a dollar sign in the middle of it. Voluntarily. You can't possibly be more shocked than I am.

For another NSV, I'd mentioned the other week that I moved up to 15 pound dumbbells. Well, I was feeling really pansy-ish for only being able to knock out 10 reps or so with them when I'd been able to do 15 reps with the 10 pound weights without much strain. So yesterday after I did my set of 10, I picked up my old 10-pound weights and they felt like feathers! Whereas before if I went much beyond 15 reps on those weights I was struggling for it, last night I was able to do 25 reps with good form. Hah!

That totally makes up for the fact that I scared myself when I was putting on makeup and saw the cuts at my bicep and deltoid. Or this morning when I was turning the steering wheel and a flexing muscle (my own) distracted me. My visual ADD-esque issues better not get me into a wreck. "What distracted me, officer? Well, see, my forearm muscles were flexing and..."

Yeah, that wouldn't be good.

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And if you'll let me indulge in a brief Mommy Brag moment, the Gum Zombie has tested into the gifted program at his elementary school. I am a combination of unsurprised, pleased, and mildly appalled. But mostly tickled pink. Yes, sadly my ego is partially tied in to the accomplishments of my spawn, even those as base as inborn intelligence. Actually, this has been slightly challenging to deal with as the Elder didn't qualify for the gifted program when he was the Gum Zombie's age, but Mr Problem Solver soothed his ego by reminding all of us (repeatedly) that he took the test at the beginning of second grade, whereas his little brother took it at the beginning of third, so obviously the child had an entire extra year to prepare himself.

The kid might have a point, actually, because the Elder is the child who figured out how to escape his crib at 19 months, and one month later worked out how to unzip the crib tent I'd installed over it to keep him confined. He's the child who built a ramp to climb over the gates I installed to keep him alive. He's the child who, when confined to his room for some misdeed or other at age three, decided he wanted out and since I had told him he couldn't come out the door, he worked out how to unlatch his window and had removed the screen and was carrying it into the hall to put it down when I caught him.

He's the child who caused me to utter the words "We don't use the ice dispenser as a toe-hold."*

Not gifted? My happy asterisk.

But all that said, I am truly tickled for the opportunities this will open for the Gum Zombie at his school. Hopefully he can be convinced to use his powers for good and not for evil. Because yesterday, Choreboy caught him doing flips off his elder brother's bed.

It runs in the family. There's a reason I purchase my haircolor.

*This involved Oreos and a Mommy who thought putting them on the side of the fridge top AWAY from the counter would keep a determined child out of them. Silly, silly Mommy!

WW Weigh-In, Week 27

Weigh-in: 134.75
Mood: Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!

Looking at my sidebar, my enthusiasm is perhaps a little more tempered than my mood above would indicate. It's been seven weeks since I was last below 136, and that 7 weeks included a spike up to 138, so in light of the hormonal insanity that rules my life I'm going to try not to hold my breath for a repeat of this downward motion next week.

Operative word: try. Because in spite of reality staring me in the face, I am still so psyched! I haven't been this weight since I was in my early twenties, albeit on the way up the scale. My calories for the week averaged again in the mid 1400's -- 1430 this time -- and that includes Labor Day when I was viciously attacked by a casserole dish filled with cookie dough and cream cheese.

In my own kitchen.

Oops.

Obviously I won the encounter, although I did come away with a few... "injuries." Heh. But outside of the Labor Day festivities, the cookies and cream cheese bars were successfully off-limits, and the boys finished them off for me last night. Bless them, because I'm not sure how much longer I could have held out. Cookies and cakes are admittedly my Waterloo.

Food was good overall for the week, with moderation in place even on Labor Day. Exercise was also good edging toward awesome. Target was having a clearance sale on some of its exercise equipment last Saturday and I picked up a few resistance pieces while the boys scouted out the toys. I came away with two different resistance band options, one called a "Fit Stick" and one adjustable height fixed band device that is now attached to my door. I also picked up two variable weight dumbbells, which can weigh from five to twenty-five pounds depending on what setting is selected.

The Elder hijacked the Fit Stick and accompanying DVD. They disappeared into his room and in all probability won't be seen again until I next dare venture in there, which will likely be the twelfth of never as I value what is left of my sanity. The Gum Zombie and I tried out the door resistance bands on Saturday and although I did a light workout, the change in exercise actually worked out my hamstrings to the point where they were mildly offended. Score! I've also moved my weight up on the dumbbells from 10 to 15 lbs, and dropped my reps from 15 to 10 or 12. By the end of the second set of curls I'm definitely working for it.

I haven't tried out the upper body options on the door resistance yet, but that's in the works for Friday or Saturday.

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In more hormonal news, That Which Shall Not Be Named still hasn't shown up. We're now at Day 37. The record was set last August at 58 days, so we'll see how this one goes. My back is aching in PMSsy-fashion, but it could be due to the fibroid or the ovarian cyst so that's possibly a complete non-sign of anything significant. On the other hand I'm still moodier than blazes, which is so freaking fair to Choreboy. Poor man. There's a reason he's listed as "tolerant" in my sidebar! Fortunately we're good at talking over things, and I'm not always in full-on lunatic mode which is A Very Good Thing.

I'm also not craving chocolate at the moment, so I'm going to run with my good eating streak and see where it takes me. September 15th, I'm looking at you!

Enough with this "peri"menopause. Just freaking pause already and we'll be good.

WW Weigh-In, Week 26

Weigh-In: 136.5
Mood: Exasperated

Can we discuss saintly here, ladies and gentlemen? Because I was. I baked and cooked nothing inappropriate. I ate nothing inappropriate. My calories averaged at 1450 a day, and I burned through over 2000 in exercise this week. I'm not expecting speedy weight loss at my current weight and proximity to goal, but at least a vague gesture in the correct direction on the scale would be appreciated.

Bueller? Bueller?

Adding insult to injury, That Which Shall Not Be Named was supposed to show up last Saturday, the 27th. Has it bothered to rear its unwelcome head? No it has not. So here I sit at thirty-one days and counting, bloated and seething with hormonal angsty-ragey ick, glaring at the scale, and wondering if there are enough absorbent products in the Lower 48 to contain the monsoon that will surely be incoming. It's only a question of when.

It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the ridiculous moodiness which has now extended far beyond its "welcome" (assuming there ever was any). For example, last night I was trying to delete a corrupted audiobook file from my iPad. In my understanding, Apple products are supposed to be all user-friendly and even close to idiot-proof, so this shouldn't have been terribly difficult. Well I'm here to tell you I'm one idiot they haven't met. I searched the web for instructions. I followed them to a "T". Nothing. I was only rescued from chucking both my desktop and tablet out the window by Choreboy who, through a complex series of gestures and incantations, was able to make the problem go away.

When he suggested I just let him fix these things before I reached the boiling point, I wailed "But I was trying to be a grown-up!"

After recovering from a mysterious coughing/choking fit, he responded, "Uhm... you weren't doing a very good job of it?"

Then for some reason, he ducked.

Humph.

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In other news, the forced marches continue to go well. The last two hikes this past Saturday and Sunday didn't net us any gator sightings (thank goodness), but the Gum Zombie regaled us with his knowledge of birds ("Oh yes, that's a juvenile glossy ibis") and the Elder managed to develop some sort of allergy to grass.

We're now stockpiling Benadryl.

I moved up from my little leather "going to a theme park and want to keep my hands free" backpack to my actual, real, orangey-rust-colored "I need room to carry a lake's worth of water with me" backpack. This was necessary, because the previous week I'd run out of water before we finished our hike and it was only my forethought in packing an emergency backup can of Diet Coke that kept me from being totally parched for the last 20 minutes. So I'm now carrying not only a larger water container in the first place, but also 3 backup bottles to refill the first one, and a container or two of coconut water to round out my re-hydration sequence.

Saturday's hike was at the same nature preserve as the previous week's, but Sunday we hit the park with the fitness trail and it took until Wednesday evening for me to be able to move comfortably again. Did you know, you have muscles over your ribs? And if you work them after not knowing they existed for over forty years, those suckers hurt! Go figure.

On the plus side, now I have two measurable goals that don't depend on a scale: "be able to do ONE pull-up" and "be able to do ONE slightly-more-horizontal push-up". Because my upper body strength is pitiful.

At least I get to go swimming on Monday, and I get to show off my new bathing suit. Heh. Have a wonderful Labor Day weekend, everyone!

WW Weigh-In, Week 25

Weigh-In: 136
Mood: Bemused

I have no clue what netted me a 136, especially considering my water retention is ramping back up. I give! I have determined, though, that I'm not going to go on any more baking frenzies for awhile. In five weeks I've managed to actually lose... well, nothing. Which is crap. And one thing I've been doing consistently over those weeks, except this past weekend, is bake evil desserts.

It appears I've found my trigger food. I can take it easy with chocolate bars, I can do just one serving of ice cream, but put me near a cake or cookie-like substance and I lose all sense of proportion... or portion. The same thing happens with potato chips. There's a reason I don't bring many of those into my house.

Fortunately I'm well back into working out, and I've been on top of it. I'm still sick unto death of my treadmill and my elliptical is possessed (really, it is) so after forcing myself onto the treadmill all week (I can at least read on the blasted thing) I'm going to repeat last week's hiking theme with the boys. We're heading to the same nature preserve for another gatoriffic hike tomorrow, and Sunday we're heading to a different park that also has hiking trails. This one even promises to have a playground for the boys for afterward.

And yes, there will be more alligators. It's Florida -- we can't escape them. The boys have been informed that if we see one at anything resembling close range the only instruction I have is "RUN!!!!!!!"

Gator cardio. Gotta love it.

I'm curious to see figures for the next two weeks' weigh-ins. There WILL be saintliness, and I'm interested to see if it will be rewarded.

WW Weigh-In, Week 24

Weight: 138
Mood: Relieved

Yep, relieved about sums it up. Honestly, I haven't been eating like someone who's trying to lose weight recently. My activity was spot-on for the week, though, and that's what saved this weigh-in to any degree despite what I crammed down my gaping maw.

I've reached that point where I'm bored with my food again. This time, it seems to be my lunch that's really getting to me. Breakfast is good, dinner is good, snacks are usually okay (yes, usually... some issues there although it's not the worst of it), but lunch?

Nope. There is no way that eating a Chipotle burrito bowl two times in two weeks equals a good choice for someone trying to lose weight, especially not when combined with an outing to McDonald's, a Cuban sandwich, and 2 oz. of Dirty Potato Chips Black Pepper and Sea Salt flavor. Again, I didn't consume this all in one day, but it's still not sane.

Don't ask me about the cookies-and-cream-cheese bars. I'm not talking. See veiled snack references above.

In spite of all this I'm at 138, which all things considered is good, and arguably maintaining. It's not goal, though, and I'd really like to see 130. I've got a new lunch plan which should take care of some of the cravings (must. have. peanut. butter. NOW.), so it's full speed ahead.

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Mammogram results are back and normal. My re-scan on the ovarian issue is at the end of September. Meanwhile, I'm able to give myself numerous diseases and dire conditions (curse you, Doctor Google!), so the rational part of my brain is torn between trying to ignore the fact that I feel like crap (Silly Amanda, you're just talking yourself into feeling lousy!) and trying to explain to the anti-malingering gene that I really do feel sick (Really, Amanda, just because you're capable of talking yourself into feeling sick doesn't mean you aren't legitimately ill).

Good times.

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I spent Saturday de-fleaing the house. Choreboy washed Teddy and put the flea meds on him Friday, so Saturday the Elder and I cornered all three cats and managed to get their flea stuff on them with zero bloodshed. Score! Then we locked down the cats and sprayed the bedrooms, followed by intensive vacuuming. After that, we moved all the cats into one of the flea-free bedrooms and poisoned the rest of the house, after which more vacuuming ensued.

I came close to freaking out when the Elder said later on that evening that he'd found a flea, but he followed it up quickly by saying it was dead. I tell you, four furry housemates in Florida during high flea season? Not fun for any of us.

Sunday I couldn't face the treadmill so the boys and I headed out for an 80 minute hike at one of the local nature preserves. The Gum Zombie spotted an alligator so he was tickled. That got my heart rate up (we were on a path called "Alligator Alley" during nesting season -- what was I thinking?), and it stayed up until we were well away from all vaguely swampy areas. Now I have shin splits because I'm so accustomed to the treadmill that I completely overestimated my ability to walk on normal ground. Genius.

But it was a good end to the last, perfect summer. This was the last year my boys were able to attend the same summer program because the Elder ages out once he turns 13. And he's not yet hit puberty big-time, so he and the Gum Zombie are still my little boys. But the hair over the Elder's upper lip is darkening, and I was just looking at our vacation pictures from last year and noticing how much older both boys now look.

My babies are growing up. They're supposed to, so it's all good. I just feel a little... lost. I'll snap out of it, but I miss my little boys. And I hated to see the summer end.

Ultrasound Results, in Brief

I had a pelvic ultrasound the same day I had my mammogram, and the u/s results are in. I've got a small fibroid in my uterus, which is a non-issue. And I've got a cyst on my right ovary, which may or may not be a non-issue.

They'll be re-scanning me in 6 weeks, and we'll go from there depending on what the results are.

As for the mammogram, no results in on that yet. Word is that 70% of first-time mammograms need a repeat, and considering the whole fibrous-breast issue, I'd put that more like at 90% for me.

Looks like 2011 is Year of the Medical Tests. I tell ya, you get past 40 and the whole body goes downhill :P

WW Weigh-In, Week 23

Weight: 137.7 (okay, 137.66, but I'm rounding up today)
Mood: Less annoyed than I was.

So the scale is creeping down again, albeit slowly. I've still got some weird retention issues going on, so I'm just going to throw it to the hormone gods and try to remember them when I have another super-impressive weigh-in.

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The Elder had his 7th grade physical today, and I am happy to announce that not only can the boy hear perfectly, but I now have documented proof! Those of you who live or have lived with an adolescent understand my excitement.

Gotcha, kid. Heh.

He wasn't too happy about the turn-your-head-and-cough-fest, but I told him that I was the wrong person to approach to expect that to get him out of anything. I just had a pelvic ultrasound yesterday (with The Probe), as well as my first mammogram. No, I didn't share ALL this information with him, but I did make it clear that sometimes we just have to suck it up for our health, and it's only once a year so although I truly feel his pain (so to speak), he's going to have to deal.

Regarding the mammogram, by the way, it was totally no sweat. Even though I'm still retaining a bit of fluid, it didn't get above mildly uncomfortable. So ladies, if you're of that age, get out there and get those boobies squished! If a pansy like me can take it, anybody can.

Speaking of age, Choreboy turns 50 in a matter of days. I'm still working on getting him to go in for all those fun "I'm 50 and over!" medical tests. No, I'm not holding my breath. The man is cute, and that cuteness is equaled only by his hardheadedness.

Outside of all that, I got nothing. Oh, except a new bathing suit. But I'm not posting that on the web. Y'all will have to wait until we get back from vacation sometime later on this year and see if I allowed a camera near me while I was wearing less than full coverage. And my dears?

I just don't see that happening. But it's freaking adorable, and I have that on very good authority.

Have a great weekend, all :)

WW Weigh-In, Week 22

Weight: 138.5
Mood: Resigned

You know how last week I mentioned that the emotional end of the PMS-fest wasn't off the charts? Yeah, that might have been a bit premature. Last Sunday night Choreboy and I were peacefully watching TV when something in my brain flipped and we ended up having a 20-minute "discussion" involving the TV, the air conditioner, and the number 77.

I never said I was logical. And if I had, that particular moment in time would have proven otherwise.

I also did indeed make the chocolate peanut butter cake.


Twice.

Ouch.

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Full disclosure: the need for two cakes was because the first was in part for my mother's bridge group, and that combined with my kids' intake wouldn't leave enough for the office. So of course I had to make cake number two (which I liberally decorated with Reese's Pieces on top of the ganache) to ensure the office got a complete cake rather than three rather tiny slices. Clearly this was entirely a humanitarian effort.

I'm avoiding mentioning the four slices I managed to consume on my own.

So the cake didn't nuke my weigh-in. Outside of the four slices I totally didn't mention in the fine print above, my food intake was on point for the week. What gave? Well, the hormonal water retention fest nailed me, probably in conjunction with the fact that I couldn't exercise. And I'm still retaining bucketloads of that water, which isn't improving my mood in the least.

And although the cake didn't necessarily cause the scale gain, I'm relatively certain it didn't help either.

We'll see what this coming Thursday brings. I'm not holding my breath. I am, however, going to pry my butt out of this chair and go get on my treadmill post-haste. I can exercise again, and I'm going to burn off every calorie possible before next weigh-in.