A Better Day

I'm rehydrated. Ahhhhhh.

My surgeon took out 0.5 cc's yesterday; he wanted to take a full 1.0 cc but I asked if he would do the half and he agreed. When I couldn't get much down for lunch yesterday, I was kicking myself. But I think the problem is exacerbated by hormones - I ovulated, so that always makes my band tighter. Oh, and it's 103 degrees today. That may have something to do with it.

I also have a barium x-ray scheduled for Monday. (Is that the same as a fluoro? No idea.) Dr. M said he thinks the band placement is fine, based on the symptoms I am describing to him, but was happy to check and make sure. I go back Wednesday to have a little bit of fluid put back in once the stomach swelling goes down. Thanks for your comments and concern, it really means a lot to me. Your suggestions are really helpful.

In other news, I am plugging away here, 205.2 today. We have a couple social events this weekend - dinner tonight with friends who are going bicoastal. They are some of my favorite people, and they have the most absolutely awesome New York City apartment I've ever been in. I could go on vacation there - every single thing is in its place (no kids, obvs) and is beautiful and meaningful. They're selling the apartment, and I'm mourning that I'll never get to see it again.

It's funny, when I moved to New York at 26 I figured most people lived in modest apartments, but I really didn't have any idea just how modest. When I met Hubs, he lived in a one-bedroom box with his grandmother's old furniture and packed IKEA bookshelves, and that was pretty impressive since he was able to live by himself in a decent neighborhood. (I rented the living room of a one-bedroom apartment from another girl, who lived in the bedroom and we shared the kitchen and bathroom in a semi-remote part of Manhattan.) Anyway, I'm sad to see our friends go, although it sounds like a great adventure for them.

Tomorrow night we are venturing into the sweltering city for dinner and to see The Book of Mormon with some other friends. I'm looking forward to seeing this show, I've heard great things about it. Was planning to wear a dress but I'm concerned I may rub my thighs raw walking from the restaurant to the theater in zillion-degree heat. I guess it's going to be a black linen pants kind of evening.

Dehydrated, And Lighter

We survived the flight, but the sipping I did on the plane came back to haunt me and I slimed my way through baggage claim, running back and forth from the claim belt to the bathroom, trudging through an under-airconditioned JFK outside to find my husband, who was waiting in a different terminal because Delta switched us at the last minute but neglected to tell anyone.

I slimed into garbage cans, sweating and trying to keep the kids on the sidewalk and the luggage cart from rolling into traffic. When we finally found Hubs, I sat miserably in the car for 45 minutes until I finally threw up into an airsick bag I nipped from JetBlue a few months ago (Delta didn't have any). It was awful.

Last night I sipped a couple - literally, a couple - ounces of tea before bed. This morning I've had a few sips of tea again, but it's not going down easily. Thank God I have an appointment today.

The thing is, I'm at 5.5 cc's, which historically has never been a problem for me. I'm sure the combination of elevation, flying and ridiculous humidity at home is exacerbating the situation. I wonder, though, if I should ask for a fluoro just to make sure everything is OK. I haven't had one since my first fill.

I weighed in a 205.4 today, which is a recent (but not all-time) low. On one hand, it's nice to be back in shouting distance of Onederland. On the other hand, I am exhausted, starving and irritable. All I can think about is being able to eat again.

I Threw Up in an Airport Garbage Can Today...

... while my three children and a stunned redcap looked on.

It's been a rough trip with my band. The first four or five days in Park City, my band was really tight. Liquids-only tight. I managed, had a few sliming episodes, but generally was able to keep it in check. The last couple of days have been awful. This morning I had three sips of a Slim-Fast, which I've had every morning since we arrived, and spent three hours throwing it up in the aforementioned garbage can plus three bathrooms on the way to our gate.

I'm worried I'll get dehydrated - I didn't have much yesterday and this morning just the Slim-Fast. I did manage a very small cup of hot tea on the plane so far. Two-Year-Old threw a royal conniption at takeoff, which was delightful for everyone involved. She's now watching Curious George on my phone and I'm praying the battery survives the next few hours.

The good news is, we're on our way home after an otherwise fantastic vacation. We land in New York a little before 6 pm, and I'm seeing my band doc tomorrow morning. We'll see what he has to say then.

Who Doesn't Love Soup in July?

Thank goodness I'm visiting a ski town, and most of the restaurants here still have some kind of soup on the menu. Because, friends, it's been a mostly liquids kind of vacation so far. I really wasn't too tight before but I think the combination of flying and now staying at a higher altitude (about 7500 feet) has my band clamped shut. Last week my start weight for the challenge was 210.8; this morning it's 209.

I actually drank a SlimFast for breakfast, and I haven't had a SlimFast in ages. But I got sick after dinner last night and I just needed some quick protein this morning that I knew wouldn't give me any trouble. The smoothie I got yesterday from Starbucks was a little too thick, but the SlimFast was fine. So I sucked it up and took in my 10 grams of protein. Which went a long way in keeping me from feeling pouty and cranky.

We're having beautiful weather here, and we went to a street festival this morning. The kids loved it - face painting, bounce house, lunch at a diner on Main Street, wandering and exploring. My little one had a tantrum royale, but that's the prerogative of a two-year-old, I suppose. Better at a street fair than at the symphony (as if...).

The Hubs leaves tomorrow to go back to work, and then we won't see him till we go home on the 20th. So we hired a babysitter and we have a romantic dinner planned for tonight. I'm looking forward to it. (There's soup on the menu. I checked.)

My parents arrive Tuesday with my nephew, and we have some hiking and biking adventures in the works. Mostly we're just enjoying the change of pace and scenery. Maybe I'll come home having lost a few more pounds.

The Wild West

We arrived today in Park City alive, after boarding the plane and discovering that despite Delta's promises (ON MY BOARDING PASS) we had no seatback televisions. Which is a bummer on a five and a half hour flight with three children.

I have Steve Jobs to thank for the ensuing... calm. I distributed a variety of Apple products loaded with games and Scooby Doo episodes and between that and the snacks, we all survived (as did our seatmates).

I love it here. Hot, sunny days followed by cool nights is my idea of heaven. Mountain air, hiking with the kids, exploring the town, begging the locals for Hollywood gossip from Sundance, staying in a house with a beautiful view... it's dreamy. I am making a point of appreciating every bit of it.

No surprise, my band was tight during the flight. We got in late enough that I tried to just have a couple bagel chips for dinner. Didn't go down all that easily, so I had a cheese stick and will see how things seem tomorrow. I see soup in my future.

I Have Reflux

I've noticed for a couple weeks now some heartburn in the late afternoons and evening but I was hoping it was a one-off thing.

It's happened often enough now that I don't think it is just episodic. I think I have reflux, and I think my band is causing it. I've only ever had heartburn while I'm pregnant, and I know *for sure* that's not the case now. I have been dreading this, as so many other bandsters have run into reflux about 15-18 months after surgery. My surgery was 19 months ago.

The heartburn isn't terrible, at least not yet, and I'm not waking up coughing at night. But I'm concerned about where this is heading. I took a Zantac half an hour ago and I'm hoping it'll keep the heartburn under control.

We're heading out of town again on Friday. I can't wait to enjoy the mountain air and do some fun hikes with the kids! I have an appointment with my surgeon when I get home, and I'll see what he has to say about all this.

Home!

We're back, after a whirlwind vacation to Atlantis in the Bahamas. My parents took all 15 members of our immediate family to celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary. It was chaotic, and so much fun. I'm exhausted.

I'm looking forward to catching up on everyone's blogs. Special thanks to Jessica at Island Bandit, who provided totally fantastic guidance on our trip. People, she even got me the cellphone number of someone in her surgeon's office in case I had a band emergency while I was away. That is true band sisterhood. I'm only sorry we didn't get to meet up. Did I mention it was chaotic? (My middle child got lost twice. I am a bad mother.)

The (Accidental) Brazilian

**
We leave Thursday for our vacation, so I scheduled a bikini wax today.

I rarely get bikini waxes; they require me to show in broad daylight parts of my body I otherwise save only for gynecological exams. Also, I had a particularly unfortunate experience with a bikini wax in 2009, a few days before the birth of my third child. The waxing lady's wax was too hot, but I didn't realize it at the time because she spritzed me with a numbing spray. It wasn't until I got home and started experiencing excruciating pain, requiring me to take to my bed with my hooch covered in ice packs, that I realized something had gone terribly wrong. It was another day or two, when the peeling started, before I realized it wasn't an allergic reaction to the wax but rather an honest-to-God second-degree burn featuring blistering and peeling. All over my lady parts. While I was 10 months pregnant. Which, I can't lie, added a certain unpleasantness to my C-section.

But I'm 38 now, so I'm trying to branch out and act like a pragmatic grownup who knows that waxing is the way to go for a beach vacation. Since I was going to be at the spa already, I also scheduled a facial.

There was a (minor, I thought at the time) language barrier, wherein the aesthetician was from Eastern Europe and speaks English as a second language. I thought nothing of it. She asked what kind of wax I wanted and I said, "Definitely not a Brazilian. Just regular." And then the facial commenced, with lotions and potions and lovely facial massage and a long and borderline excruciating extraction process. Finally, she put a thick masque on my skin, leaving small openings for my nostrils and lips but otherwise slathering it on nice and thick.

Then, while the masque was setting, she moved to do the bikini wax. I was laying on the table, legs akimbo, face immobilized by expensive goop. The aesthetician lady moved quickly and before I realized what was happening, I felt the heat of the wax and heard the whirrrring of electric clippers followed by several hair-raising rrrrrips that resulted in so much pain I shrieked, "YIKES."

"Don't worry, we're done," she said briskly. "With that side."

Then it started all over again, on the other side. And I was powerless, blinded by the masque goop, totally exposed from the waist down, menaced by the electric trimmers and starting to twitch from the entire experience.

At the end, I was presented with a $254 bill. Numbed and dazed, I paid and stumbled to my car.

Tomorrow I go back to my surgeon for a fill. I can't imagine it will be even remotely as traumatic as the wax.

** This is actually what I look like.

Self-Stabbing: A Cautionary Tale

I wasn't sure if I would blog about this, because I know my reputation for being boring and uptight responsible will take a major hit. But since I started this blog to keep track of the whole band saga, I can't leave this part out.

About three weeks ago I had a fill, and it was a tough one. I was too tight, as Gilly wisely pointed out when I mentioned that I threw up way too often. But I have an appointment scheduled for next week so I was hoping to just hang on, maybe drop a few extra pounds and see my surgeon just before we leave for the Bahamas next week.

I had several consecutive days of throwing up every day, sometimes twice. This is really rare for me - when I get sick, it's usually once every month or so, around ovulation or my period. That's it. But just as I was about to call my doctor, the damn thing opened up and I was able to eat with caution. Definitely enough to get the nutrition I needed, although probably not enough solids. Anyway, was planning to get the unfill when I go in on the 20th.

Then on Tuesday I got sick in the morning, and things just got worse and worse. I was in the middle of preparing for a cocktail party and kept having to run to throw up. I was shaky from not having been able to keep anything down, miserable and beyond anxious about the party.

My doctor's office is usually tough to get into, and time was of the essence. While I was heaving into the toilet, I looked up and saw a baggie with a syringe and needle. My surgeon had given it to me to take when I travel, after I told him that my mom and sister are nurses. He gave me rudimentary tips to pass on to them, and reassured me that in a pinch he thought they'd be fine taking some fluid out because it's not that hard.

Here, friends, is where the wheels came off.

All logic went out the window. I was desperate to loosen my band, there were people downstairs getting my house ready for a party, my kids were about to come home from school, I was expecting 70 guests in a few hours. I washed my hands, swabbed my abdomen with alcohol and started stabbing. I laid down (like my surgeon does it), but couldn't hit the target. I stood up. Still no luck. I swabbed and swabbed the little pinholes of blood, feeling more desperate every time and occasionally stopping to throw up again. Good times.

Finally, even I realized this was a really bad idea. I called my surgeon's office; he was out of town but his partner agreed to meet me. I was hugely relieved.

Then I started panicking, because it was pretty clear that someone had been messing with my port. I figured I'd get Worst Patient in the World status if I told the truth, but I rarely, rarely lie. I would like to tell you it's because I know lying is wrong and it's a moral boundary that I don't care to cross. The truth (ha, see how I did that?) is that I don't lie because I am terrible at it, almost always start sweating before I have even finished telling the lie, and end up blurting out the truth before the other person has had a chance to say a word.

But this time I had no intention of telling this doctor I had never met before that I had repeatedly stabbed myself in the stomach with a syringe. Instead, I told him my mom was visiting, she gave it a try per the other doctor's tips and didn't have any luck.

Guess what? He didn't actually care. He's a jolly Greek guy, very sweet, listened to my explanation, took a look and started giggling. He told me when he was a resident they used to call it the "showerhead," lots of little pricks in a circle when someone's trying to hit the target and misses over and over. Heh.

He unfilled me, a lot, to give everything a chance to calm down. I went from 5.7 cc's to 4.2 cc's. So now I feel better and I'm able to eat, which is both a blessing and a curse. I go back to my regular surgeon on Tuesday to get back to a more reasonable fill level, but lower than I had been before.

Through all of this, I have not lost a single pound. I can't say I'm loving my band right now, I really can't.

However, by some grace of God, I don't have MRSA or any other godawful infection from my mishap with the needle. Take it from me: Don't try to unfill yourself. I won't be doing it again, that's for sure.

Running With Rob Lowe

I went for a run last night. I haven't run in a good long while, and it wasn't as hard as I expected, possibly because I was running at a 45-minute-mile-ish pace. My knees gave me some grief, but aren't sore today so I'm hoping they will adjust.

I'm listening to Rob Lowe's memoir on audible.com and in addition to bringing back lots of teen-angst hours fantasizing about those eyes and that jawline, it's a funny and insightful book about his life and career.

I was out for 40 minutes, alternated running and walking and didn't burn anything near as much as I burn in my average gym class, calorie-wise. So I won't be ditching the gym for running entirely, but it's a nice option when I don't have a lot of time for a full gym visit.

I'm 209.4 as of this morning, which is somewhat perplexing since I've been fairly tight and eating not bad. I'll just keep eating good stuff and exercising, and at some point it'll have to start moving in my favor, right?

Tonight we're hosting a cocktail party for new families coming to my kids' nursery school; we're expecting about 70 people. The patio is power washed, the windows are sparkling, the flowers are planted and the wine is chilling. Wish me luck.