Tuesday, December 30, 2008

half ton teen, dad & mom coming up on TLC



A heads-up for those who get TLC--programs called Half Ton Teen, Half Ton Mom & Half Ton Dad are on New Year's day, starting at 8 p.m.
Not much on the interwebs about the half ton teen yet, this is all I could find out:
The (not quite half ton) teen is 800 lb Billy Robbins, age 19.
The others seem to be repeats.
The (also not quite half ton) mom is the "world's heaviest woman", Renee Williams (29), The half ton dad (1,022 lbs) Kenneth Brumley also appears to get surgery. (image source)at nearly 900 lb--apparently she gets bariatric surgery. Her story sounded familar to me...and her Wikipedia entry says she died in 2007 after the WLS and she was part of a British TV show called "Half Ton Mum" (probably this same show?) and also on something called Amazing Medical Stories here in the US. I think I saw one or the other of these, it sounds familar. Maybe even blogged it, who knows? (image source)

Monday, December 22, 2008

tainted OTC diet pills recalled

From the FDA:

FDA Warns Consumers About Tainted Weight Loss Pills
Agency seeks recall of products that pose serious health risks
The U.S. Food and Drug Administration is alerting consumers nationwide not to purchase or consume more than 25 different products marketed for weight loss because they contain undeclared, active pharmaceutical ingredients that may put consumers’ health at risk.
The tainted weight loss products are:
  • Fatloss Slimming
  • 2 Day Diet
  • 3x Slimming Power
  • Japan Lingzhi 24 Hours Diet
  • 5x Imelda Perfect Slimming
  • 3 Day Diet
  • 7 Day Herbal Slim
  • 8 Factor Diet
  • 7 Diet Day/Night Formula
  • 999 Fitness Essence
  • Extrim Plus
  • GMP
  • Imelda Perfect Slim
  • Lida DaiDaihua
  • Miaozi Slim Capsules
  • Perfect Slim
  • Perfect Slim 5x
  • Phyto Shape
  • ProSlim Plus
  • Royal Slimming Formula
  • Slim 3 in 1
  • Slim Express 360
  • Slimtech
  • Somotrim
  • Superslim
  • TripleSlim
  • Zhen de Shou
  • Venom Hyperdrive 3.0
An FDA analysis found that the undeclared active pharmaceutical ingredients in some of these products include sibutramine (a controlled substance), rimonabant (a drug not approved for marketing in the United States), phenytoin (an anti-seizure medication), and phenolphthalein (a solution used in chemical experiments and a suspected cancer causing agent). Some of the amounts of active pharmaceutical ingredients far exceeded the FDA-recommended levels, putting consumers' health at risk.

Honestly, I never heard of ANY of these, but thought it was worth a mention.
FYI:
  • Sibutramine is Meridia (a prescription diet drug)
  • Rimonabant is Acomplia (an anorectic anti-obesity prescription drug)
  • Phenytoin is Dilantin (an anti-seizure drug that can cause brain atrophy)
  • "Phenolphthalein has been used for over a century as a laxative, but is now being removed from the market because of concerns over carcinogenicity." (sources for all drug info: Wikipedia)
I wish it said which additive was in which drug, and how much. (Screenprint of original)

I got this information from a new health website called Wellness360, which pays you (not a lot) to read health articles.  If you are interested in joining, click here

Friday, December 12, 2008

Amish mutants may hold a key to gene-therapy weight loss

Honestly, how often does one have the chance to say "Amish mutants"?
This article says: A study testing a group of Amish people for levels of fat in the bloodstream has come up with a surprising result: around 5% have a gene mutation that helps break down fat more efficiently.....Further analysis found these fat-busters have one thing in common: a mutation that switches off one of two copies of the gene apoC-III, which is said to slow breakdown of triglycerides. These patients also showed low levels of LDL cholesterol (increases heart attack risk), high levels of HDL cholesterol (lowers heart attack risk) and had arteries that were largely plaque-free. In other words, they are in far less danger of suffering from heart attacks than their relatives who don’t have the mutation.
So they are healthier as well as being resistant to ingested fats? That's actually pretty cool. I'm not worried about my cholesterol (it's always been low) and I have no idea what my arteries are doing, but plaque free sounds pretty good to me.
(screenprint of original article)

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

off topic funny pic (language possibly NSFW)

I just saw this picture on the failblog and laughed out loud. It has nothing to do with being fat, it's just really funny.
fail owned pwned pictures

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Ramped?



A few weeks or so ago, the fat guy in Mexico, Manuel Uribe, got married. Good for him, right? I think he's down to around 600 or 800 lbs, still stuck in bed. Well apparently he was upset because he couldn't consummate the marriage and some friends of his got together and built some kind of sex ramp device which would, um, facilitate him getting laid. Um. I don't get it, really, and trust me doing a Google image search for it is not a good idea with the safe image filter off. Your mind will break under the strain of what you see and still you won't find the answer to the puzzle of what the ramp exactly did for them. I'm not so fat someone can't have sex with me, so maybe that's the problem. I can picture maybe what I could do with a ramp (depending on how big it is--I do have a wedge pillow that I sleep on sometimes but I only use it for sleeping not fornicating). I wonder if the fat guy’s ramp is like the wedge pillow George Clooney carries around in that silly new movie Burn After Reading (which comes up a lot when you GIS the ramp idea)? Supposedly the ramp is concrete. Hmm. He can't leave the bed. Where does the ramp go? Is it on the bed? Next to the bed? Discovery Channel is down there all the time filming him; if there is a concrete ramp in the room next time I see him on TV I'm probably going to spit soda out my nose. Even if I'm not drinking any at the time.
(Screenprint of original article)

Fat And Sad Is No Way To Go Through Life

I'm sad, over my finances and my life and all the deaths around me. I've also gotten ugly. I used to be really pretty, but I guess that's gone now. I look like, I don't know, I look awful. My face is puffy and even make-up doesn't do much anymore. I dyed my hair over the weekend and it didn't come out that great. I don't even want to look at myself in the mirror. Some friends elfed me using an unflattering candid picture and I'm all jowls and fat neck and I look like a beast.
I'm too old not to know what I want to do with my life, and too old to start something new anyway. I have all sorts of talents but no one wants to hire me for them. My problem is that I'm "good" at a lot of things but not really "great" at very many. I'm spread too thin. I have no specialty.
And I just feel, all the time, that people really don't like me. People seem to get angry with me more than with others. I sent out a joke story to a bunch of friends, which I thought was really funny. It's a total set-up that doesn't end the way you expect. It's one of those anti-emails that go around to counter what Snopes calls "glurge"--annoyingly sweet and fake feel good emails. I got a note back from a friend of mine who USED to have a sense of humor saying I had sent him "bad energy" and basically blasting me for wishing bad things upon him, even though it wasn't a wish-based e-mail. It's not the first time this person has attacked me over something that seemed inconsequential to me. (He got mad once because I emailed him a party invite that had graphics and "used up" too much space in his inbox!) Maybe it's him and he’s just a jerk. But when someone attacks me like that over, well, nothing, my first inclination is to simply walk away, say 'Screw you, pal, find another friend' and move on. But I have too many people in my past that I have walked away from. I feel good about most of them--it was right and proper that I moved on--but I have to wonder if I have some fundamental flaw that eventually makes people turn on me over nothing.
I am also starting to worry that I smell bad. This is totally the fault of the internet. The message boards where I hang out often go onto anti-fattie rants (they post a lot of "kill it with fire" and "go be fat somewhere else" mean pictures) and most of it is about how bad fat people smell. I shower every day, I wear deodorant, I wear fresh clothes from the skin out. I use soap and shampoo. I wipe properly. (Can't say that without seeing Chris Farley doing air quotes around it.) I KNOW I don't smell bad. But everyone on the internet, upon seeing a picture of me, would immediately assumes I stink like moldy cheese. I have only ever known 2 fat people who smelled bad. One just smelled a little like sweaty armpits, and it was a mild smell and not offensive. The other, well, she really was gross. Apparently she had a massive yeast infection in her fat folds and the odor, well, indescribable. (I was friends with her brother & he told me about the yeast infection.) She was not the rule, but the exception. And I've known and met and sat near hundreds, probably thousands, of fat people. I used to go to meetings at the hospital when I was going to get bariatric surgery and these meetings had lots of fat people wanting surgery and they didn't stink. I knew a guy who weighed 640 pounds and he didn’t stink—except for his hair, he was a black guy and wore that weird smelly hair gel some black people use.
I was just at the grocery store and I found myself sniffing fat people. There was a very fat man, much fatter than me, who could hardly breath, with his cane hanging on the cart, not even able to lean over and grab a can of vegetables without hyperventilating. I sniffed him as I went by. If he smelled of anything, he smelled faintly of ass. But the aisle was kind of stinky in general.
The other misconception about fat people that the internet has is that fat people sweat a lot. I rarely sweat. In the pool when I am working out, yeah, because the water and air are over 90 degrees, but guess what the water washes it away! If anything, the only time I smell weird is when I leave the pool and I smell like Clorox from all the chlorine they put in to combat massive child pee.
My husband, who is not anywhere near as fat as me, sweats way more than me--he sweats on any kind of exertion and also when eating spicy food. But guess what? He also showers every day, uses soap and deodorant, and he doesn't stink either, even when he's sweaty. And if he gets really sweaty mowing the lawn or hiking or whatever, as soon as he's done he takes a shower, even if he took one already that day.
I was reading an anti-fattie rant the other day (apparently I like feeling horrible about myself) which mainly focused on airplanes. I do hate to travel by plane. It's horrid for my edema leg, I don't fit, etc. But when someone goes on and on about "buy two seats" I want to smack them. Have they ever TRIED to buy two seats? I tried when I went away in January because supposedly you could buy a 2nd seat for the kid's price. No dice. And if I bought a 2nd adult seat, they couldn't guarantee the seats were together (!) AND I wouldn't be allowed to bring double luggage. Plus you need a name and passport number for every seat. Um, my butt doesn't have its own passport. If airlines insist on buying airplanes with seats that are only 12 inches wide, then they can make it easier for people to buy two.
(Chris Farley source)

Everybody’s working for the weekend…

I'm working but it's a joke. A hiring firm recruited me for this "big" 3 month job, said it was 3 12 hour days per week, with 4 hours a day of overtime. Sweet, right? And still plenty of time to work out and NaNo and whatever on the other 4 days. 12 hour days are hard but it's only for 3 months, right? I had to take a pee test, undergo background and credit checks, fill out reams of paperwork--it was like I was going to work for the government. I think people going to work for Obama fill out less paperwork and I'm sure they get to skip the drug test. The contract comes...it's for ONE month. What? What happened to THREE months? Then I start the job. I'm not allowed to work more than 8 hours a day, it's every day, and...It’s only 2 weeks. Not even. This half week and next week. How bogus is that?
I only wonder who lied to whom. Did the hiring company know it was a 2 week job? Or did the other company misrepresent the assignment? I wrote to the hiring company and complained. This company was calling and emailing me to the point of being a nuisance trying to get me into this job. (I wonder how much they are getting paid for me? I bet twice what I'm making an hour) They would call my house phone, leave a message and immediately call my cell and leave another message and a few minutes later try both again, even when I had told them I’d be out and to please just e-mail me follow up information. Now they are ignoring me. Nice.
Everyone at work keeps telling me where the kitchen in our department is and where the cafeteria in the building is. When I tell them I am fine just eating a protein bar, they don't believe me. They tell me about the wonderful grocery store nearby and all the restaurants on this road. "There's a microwave if you are bringing in food." "I have a protein bar, thanks." "Here's the cafeteria menu." "I have a protein bar, thanks." Yesterday I went out at lunch to move my car from the visitor lot to the employee lot. The visitor lot is near the cafeteria. The smell of fish was so overpowering I had to cover my nose as I crossed the parking lot. This was OUTSIDE in the RAIN and it stunk. I can't imagine how bad it must have smelled inside that section of the building, or inside the cafeteria itself. I glanced at the menu online and sure enough, famous fish fry yesterday. Yeah, famous for the smell.
Basically I'm a temporary technical writer at this job. Something to add to my resume, I guess. I'm putting together a small project and writing detailed instructions for later, when someone needs to modify the project or wants to create a similar one. It's pretty easy but I guess no one here knows how to do any of this. I work on the project for a while, stop, write down everything I just did, explain how I did it and use plenty of screen prints for illustration. I wish I had Quark (or Adobe InDesign) and Photoshop. I could be making a sweet little technical book. Instead I have Word and the horrid picture and drawing toolbars.
It's not awful to have this job. I'm pretty much left alone--someone brings me a segment of work and I do it and document it and then get the next segment. It's not 3 months work no matter how slow I go. It's not even faintly challenging. I have a window and I'm high up in the building so I have a view. It's not interesting--a busy street with a strip mall, part of a parking lot, a few trees. The pines are green; everything else is brown and looks like big dead bushes from here. The sky is totally gray with blowing clouds and rain. Welcome to New England after the pretty leaves have fallen and before the snow comes.
I don't know anyone at this job and won't exert myself to. I'm only here a week and a half, why bother? Everyone is way older than me, for one thing. I have a badge with a bad picture of me and no one says anything even when I am wandering through the halls lost looking for the bathroom or elevator. The place is huge. It's a bunch of interconnected buildings. Yesterday I asked someone to walk me to the other building where my car was at the visitor's lot. This person got lost trying to bring me there and he had a map of the building! There are no signs on the wall with "you are here" and as far as I can tell no one ever leaves their department except to use the bathroom, stairs or elevator.

NaNo update

I've been having a real hard time lately. This week is the anniversary of my dad's death. I had 3 pets die on me in 5 weeks (end of September to beginning of November). My laptop died--components came unsoldered from the motherboard-- and a new motherboard cost only $59 less than a replacement laptop of the same type. So I got a new one. I was without a computer for a week and a half, so my NaNoWriMo word count is dismal. I should have spent more time preparing, that part is my fault. I bought the so-called script for 27 Dresses; it cost way too much and wasn't the shooting script. It hardly matched the movie. And it was on paper so I had to retype it for it to be useable. I had to watch the movie and take notes of what was different, which was way too much. I ended up finding the captions online, but they have no action and no hint of who is speaking so I have to watch the movie and annotate them. And since my DVD player is upstairs (where my laptop usually lives) I couldn't work on the annotes, as they were all on my hard drive. (My hard drive is fine, it's installed in my new computer already—it was just the motherboard and the video that went.) I'm just terribly behind. I'm not going to get to 15,000 words in 5 days. Not happening.

Thursday, November 06, 2008

Nanowrimo update & death hits again

So I'm slogging away working on my NaNo novel which is why I've been so quiet. Since I am doing a parody of a movie, I bought the script and also rented the DVD and now I am watching the DVD and making notes on the script (scripts are really bare boned). My eyes feel like they are going to fall out of my head. Nothing ruins a fun movie more than having to pause it every other minute to take notes.
I've also been typing a good bit of the script and reworking it to be funnier. Is it? I don't know. Don't feel much like writing anything especially humor. Had another death in my animal family. I feel so cursed. And sad. And broken inside.

Monday, October 27, 2008

Depression

I just feel so awful. Losing 2 pets and a job in less than a month will do that to you, I guess. I used to be funny, but I don't think I am anymore. I'm too fat to be cute. Unemployed, overweight, aging, in debt...I swear if my pets didn't need me alive I'd just end it. I serve no purpose on earth otherwise.
There's other stuff going on too. I write books, and this year I'm selling nothing. Last year I sold a hundred copies, this year less than 5. Very discouraging. So I've been being me instead of Rosie today, pimping my writing on my other blogs, on Myspace, on Amazon. I need the money!
I was doing so good with food the last few weeks at work, with my Special K bars (thanks Jenny) and not eating fast food. Now I'm home and the bars aren't cutting it. I want FOOD. I want to go out to eat. But I can't spend money. Nothing's coming in. It's terrifying.
I just feel so useless. I know everyone who looks at me thinks I'm lazy and probably stupid, not to mention ugly. My hair is starting to fall out again from stress. It did this a year ago while my father was dying, then it started to grow back. Fat and bald? Just fucking shoot me.
And NaNoWriMo starts on Saturday. I have 27 Dresses on top of my DVD queue and I ordered a copy of the script. I thought I had so many ideas on how to spoof it but it's like all the creativity has been sucked from me. I have no clue what I am going to write.
To add insult to injury, I helped a friend move and I got bitten by a spider, on my edema leg, right at the bottom where it's always most sensitive. I didn't know what it was, this hard-as-a-rock patch of skin, itchy as all hell, and painful. My friend looked at it and poked it and said "it's just a spider bite." JUST A SPIDER BITE!? That means a spider was ON ME and put its mouth on me! ARGH. My arthritis knee has been so painful since I came back from vacation that I had to buy a heating pad (2x a day for 30 minutes); I don't need my edema being filled with venom on top of this.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

cursed

I am cursed. I went to feed my pets after I finished writing that last post and one of them was dead. Had been alive earlier in the morning.
Just fucking shoot me.

NaNoWriMo

So this is going to be my NaNo blog as well as my fat blog this year. Yahoo 360 is fairly dead, and I don't feel like starting another blog just to write in it for 6 weeks or so.

The official counter widget, above and on the sidebar, doesn't seem to be working properly. I'm hoping it will come online on November 1. Of course I hate the color. I dislike that pale blue. I can recolor one of the static icons but I like the word count ones.
I am going to download the script of the movie "27 dresses" (which I liked) and write a satire of it called "28 dresses". Not sure how it will come out. Definitely not publishable, but it seems like it's light and airy. Too much death and loss around me to write about anything else.

Tuesday, October 07, 2008

death & fear

My cat is dead. We put him to sleep. He wanted to go. I sat down and told him we were taking him at a certain time and he'd be with his best friend (who died a few years ago) soon. At the time I told him we'd be taking him, he went into the carrier and meowed at me as if to say, "Let's get on with it." At the vet he laid quietly on the table, didn't fight at all. I had my hand on him and he went instantly. No last sigh of breath, no noise, no struggle. The plunger went in and he was gone. I cried and cried. I feel like I failed him, even though he was 15 and he had just been at the vet a week before and had a full fix-em-up $500+ treatment that did make him better for a few days. My other pets are confused. They keep going to the places where the dying cat was sleeping and looking around, as if to say "where'd he go? wasn't he right here?" There is nothing worse than a grieving pet. At least you can attempt to explain death to a child. A pet doesn't get it.
I ended up going on vacation with my husband after all. I only had to pay for the plane ticket. We went to a tropical island. It rained like mad the whole time. Most mornings I got in a early workout in the hotel pool (11 feet deep! beautiful!) before the rain started, spent the rest of the day online applying for jobs, playing video games or reading.
We went out of Newark airport. My husband's friend drove. I was afraid of the bridge (GW?) and closed my eyes going over it. Then I did the same thing in the glass-sided elevator (hate elevators and escalators, but can't climb stairs with my edema leg). He started pointing out to me that I am afraid of everything. Am I? I don't think of myself as walking around in a constant state of fear, but apparently I do.
And he couldn't believe me and food, even though apparently they work with a guy who also has food neophobia (and hates lettuce as much as I do). He was astonished that I could look at an entire restaurant menu, shake my head, and say "I'll just have a glass of ginger ale." Plus everything was so expensive. I had a personal pizza and a glass of ginger ale (the diet soda was foul beyond belief down there) and it was over $30 (American). And the pizza sucked. Pizza Hut is better. Only Domino's (and Greek pizza of any kind) is worse.
I tried to walk around a lot, as we didn't have a rental car, but my leg wasn't up to it. I was in a state of constant frustation. Worried that I was going to have to ante up the money for that horrible pizza and all the other gross food I ate (like the hamburger that I don't think was even cow meat), or for the hotel ($1700+ for 3 nights) or that my leg would give out, or that I won't find a job and end up losing my house. I did fall once, into a taxi, because I stupidly tried to climb in using my weak leg, which can't lift me into the back of a van.
I can't say I had a BAD time. I didn't. I didn't have a GREAT time. And that had very little to do with my being fat. The pouring rain made it impossible to do anything outside, and my future lack of income meant I couldn't shop or spend money in the hotel's little mall. I had no problem being in the pool or at the beach in a bathing suit (I guess all those years of working out in the pool have made me immune to feeling shame or whatever I'm supposed to feel at being fat and semi-clothed), but when it's pitch-black out and pouring rain with gusts of high wind, being fat is actually a plus. I think skinnies might have gotten blown away outside.
I was reading on an edema website (and no, I don't have the link, stupid me for not bookmarking it) that airplane travel makes edema worse. I didn't walk excessively (more than I do at home) and my workout was about equal to what I do at home, but my leg is almost as bad as it was when I got home in January. I can't straighten it and it hurts a lot and I'm limping badly again. It doesn't SEEM fatter, it just feels bad.

Monday, September 22, 2008

death & dying

My cat is doing really badly. I should have let him go last week. I wanted to put him to sleep, my husband didn't, I let him change my mind. Now I want to and he doesn't. I told him flat out we can keep arguing about it as long as he wants and the cat will just die in the meantime and take the decision away from us. It's making me miserable.
The job-ending-soon situation isn't helping much either.
Saturday I almost died. I'm not being melodramatic. I choked on a piece of crappy roast beef and had to get the Heimlich. It happened so fast I didn't have time to be scared. I was chewing this mouthful of tough meat and then it slid down my throat and lodged there. I could feel that it was moving toward the back of my mouth before I was ready and I was trying to chew it harder, faster, because it was a big, tough lump (not really edible, in fact). And then it was stuck fast. I was so astonished, I didn't know what to do or say. I think I was making noises. My husband looked at me and said, "are you choking?" and I must have nodded because he came across the room and punched me in the stomach. I know that's not really how it's done, but I was on a couch against the wall and he had no idea how to get behind me and do it properly. I honestly didn't think it would work but the hunk of meat popped right out.
Basically I had a hankering for roast beef, which is a rare thing. But oven roasts were on sale and there were none left so I bought a pot roast, thinking that I cook the meat inside a foil pouch filled with marinade and that would soften it up. That failed. I soaked mine in a lot of brown onion gravy and hoped for the best. Obviously the best did not involve nearly dying while sitting on my couch watch Pirates of the Caribbean 2.
Now I have a stomach ache as if I did several hundred crunches. No bruise, but it feels bruised. And had to endure my husband yelling at me to chew my food. I was chewing! I didn't swallow it on purpose. I wasn't done chewing--that's why I choked.
In hindsight it was pretty scary and I don't care to ever repeat the experience.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

no fast food, no job, sick pet, no vacation


I gave up fast food without even noticing I did it. I can't even tell you exactly when it happened. Sometime in July? As far back as June? First I started bringing cans of diet Pepsi with me to save on buying soda, but as the prices of food (and gas) kept rising, I started going less often and bringing food from home instead--leftovers, mostly rice dishes. Now I don't even do that. I have a Special K Protein Bar and a bottle of spring water for lunch and half a bar for breakfast. But the weird thing is, I'm not on a diet. I didn't do any of this consciously.
The Special K thing happened by accident. I forgot my leftovers and I had no cash and I hate using my debit card to buy fast food. I said something offhand to a friend at work and she whipped open her drawer to show me it was full of meal replacement bars of various flavors and brands. She handed me a Special K one and I figured it would be disgusting but I was hungry. And you know what? It wasn't disgusting at all. It was pretty good. I found them at Wal-mart and bought a few boxes and for the last couple of weeks I've been eating that for lunch, plus half of one for breakfast, and eating whatever for supper as usual. I didn't weigh myself until a few days ago so I don't know if it's going to cause me to lose weight. But I'm not DOING it to lose weight. My mind is very strange about it. I'm not on a diet, I'm saving money.
And I really need to save money now. My cushy contract job that was supposed to go permanent this week instead is being eliminated in mid-October. I'm angry and sad and feeling kind of used. I had spent some money on repairs to my house that I would have held off on if I had known that the whole "you're being hired at the end of your contract with a raise and full benefits" speech was a lie.
The day before I found out, one of my cats got really really sick. I was on the verge of putting him to sleep. Instead I had him fixed up. $500+. Wouldn't have been a big deal if I got hired, right? Now I'm in panic mode, and worse, thinking that if I had known, I would have killed a cat that could have been saved because I was being cheap.
And one of my fish died, that I had for over 2 years, on Friday.
Our wedding anniversary is coming up. I was supposed to get 3 weeks vacation. My husband is being sent to a destination spot for work and I was going to use one of my shiny new vacation weeks to go with him, only having to pay airfare & food as his work is paying his airfare and hotel & food. The days he was working I was going to spend swimming at the beach, walking on sand to help my edema and generally being happy. Of course I can't afford even that now, and it's the only time my husband will be sent there as his company is closing that location (the reason he's being sent).
I feel like a punching bag.

Sunday, August 31, 2008

advertising in shows about obesity (and a bit of live-blog)

I'm watching a bunch of shows on TLC about being overweight. The ads? Wether chocolates (I might have spelled that wrong) , Hershey's new Bliss chocolates, and McDonalds. The particular episode (Big as Life-Obesity in America) I'm watching right now is about how little the amount of food is that one must eat to maintain a weight of 400 or 500 lbs or more, and how easy it is to unknowingly overeat in our society...cue Micky D's and chocolate commercials.
I'm not going to do a true live-blog of this, but just mention a little of what happens.
One woman, Doris Skiba, actually did a picture journal of herself going from her goal weight of around 180 back up to over 500 lbs. I haven't been able to find any links to her things online--the photos they showed were very moving.
Another woman had WLS and gained back all the weight plus more. She says, as I have said and thought, that if you can monitor your intake as they tell you to do after surgery and you can take a walk every day, what do you need the surgery for? Just do it.
But this other guy who weighed over 600 lbs did very well on the surgery. Which mirrors what I've seen in life. Some people do awesome after WLS and for some, it just don't seem to do much.


In an aside, while trying to find information on Doris Skiba's photos, I found this site, which is all text. Not all of it is about obesity, but the parts that are, are very interesting. (Scroll down about 1/3 to the Bon Jovi quote and the story of Al)
He offers some homework:
Exercise 1

• Buy a box of individually wrapped snack cakes.
• Take it home without opening it on the way.
• Open it in the kitchen and eat one of the individually wrapped snacks.
• Put the remainder in a kitchen cabinet where you will see it periodically, and leave it there for one week.
• Take it out and throw it away (into a trash receptacle from which it cannot be retrieved).

When you have successfully completed Exercise 1, move on to Exercise 2:

Exercise 2

• Go to a fast-food burger restaurant and buy a typical meal — one burger, one medium-sized order of fries, and a medium-sized soda.
• Consume half of everything: Half of the burger, half of the fries, and half of the soda. (Do not pre-divide the meal into halves before eating — just start eating and then stop at half.)
• Throw the rest away on your way out of the restaurant. Don’t eat anything else for at least two hours.

When Exercise 2 is performed correctly, move on to Exercise 3:

Exercise 3

• Go to a party where snacks are in plentiful supply.
• Wait until at you have seen at least three other people graze the snack layout. (Persons who already have a plate of snacks in their hand when you arrive don’t count.)
• Make yourself a plate of snacks.
• Eat most of it, but leave a little uneaten.
• Don’t touch the snacks again for the rest of the party — find a conversation or activity to keep yourself busy instead.


The show ends with Doris Skiba saying that she has to live her life in her 500 lb body. She doesn't like her 500 lb body, but that's what she's got.

Saturday, August 30, 2008

61-lb 11 month old baby


This Columbian baby weighs almost 62 pounds and is the size of an 8-year-old...and he's only 11 months old.
His mother says he started gaining weight like crazy when he was 2 months old and probably has a thyroid problem.
He looks like the Michelin Man.
His mother, Milena Orosco de Agudelo, is a skinny little thing so it's clearly not a case of an overweight parent overfeeding a child. She doesn't look like she weighs much more than than the baby, in fact.
I hope they can help this kid. He'll end up confined to bed and probably die before he hits adulthood.
(picture source=article source; screenprint)

followup to followup on obese woman crushing todder

Hot on the heels of finding the article about how the toddler's head was crushed by being hit, I find the woman's lawyer saying that she "lacks the movement in her arms to have killed the child, calling it an 'impossibility.'"
I continue to be baffled over why the woman can't just TELL someone what happened. If she crushed the kid by accident (which the child's mother believes), then SAY so. An accident is prosecuted far differently than beating a kid to death. Although at this point, I don't think anyone would believe her, if she has indeed been silent on what happened for all this time.
And this finishes off my disbelief:
A state district judge has agreed not to jail Mayra Rosales, provided she wears a global positioning system tracker until her trial.
Because all of a sudden either she'll lose enough weight to fit through the door or someone will stage a "bed break" for her and cut a hole in the wall and spirit her to safety.
(screenprint)

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

followup: obese woman kills toddler


I blogged about this story back when it happened, in March. At that time, the press was saying the obese woman crushed the child.
Now woman has been indicted and the story has changed. I originally imagined the bedridden woman falling on the child, or maybe the child was in bed with her and she rolled over on it. But they are saying she basically beat the kid to death, which is a totally different scenario.
Mayra Lizbeth Rosales, 27, was indicted on one count of first-degree murder and on one count of injury to a child in the death of Eliseo Gonzalez Jr....The grand jury indicted her after a full autopsy confirmed investigators' suspicions that the child died March 18 because he had been struck. Investigators believe the toddler was struck at least twice, crushing his head.
Being hit so hard your head is crushed is not the same thing as being crushed to death by a fat person falling on you. (See the original article.)
But that's not the controversy, of course. It's that she weighs 800-1,000 lbs (different articles say different amounts) and can't fit through the door, and therefore cannot be brought to trial.
Now readers of this blog know that I'm not fond of kids. But I wouldn't beat one to death. That's just wrong, and I still question the sanity of any mother who would leave a toddler under the care of a bedridden, massively obese person.
(screenprint; image source=article source)

Monday, August 25, 2008

being fat in a chair and how annoying it is from both sides

I went to the movies yesterday. The movie theater has seats that you can lean back in, and the armrests also come up, which makes it really comfy because you can sprawl across a couple of seats if it's not crowded.
I mention the seats only because I think they have a bearing on this issue.
So I'm watching the movie, leaning back hardly at all, and I became aware of the fact that my stomach was sticking out farther than my boobs. Which, in reality, when I'm standing up, it doesn't. I felt like a step pyramid of fat. Fat thighs against the seat in front of me, fat belly piled on them, fat boobs on top of them, then my fat head, each pile of fat a little smaller and set back a little more.
Honestly, it was so gross. It distracted me from the movie. I tried sitting up straight and that didn't seem to help. The only thing I could figure was that my butt is so big that even though it was flat against the back of the seat, it was pushing my stomach way forward? But that doesn't make any sense, because I'm sitting upright in a chair right now with my butt against the back and my stomach isn't sticking out a foot past my boobs. My boobs stick 2-3" in front of my belly when I'm seating, a little less than if I'm standing up.
Which reminds me of a different story about being fat in a chair.
I went to a concert recently at the Mohegan Sun arena. I don't like it there; I've mentioned it before. The seats are narrow and the rows are narrow (no knee room) and I'm extremely uncomfortable. I can cram myself into the seat but it's hard to get back out. But it was a show I really want to see and so I forced myself to go.
A very fat guy was sitting behind me. Fatter than me. I have no idea how he fit into the seat. In fact, I think he wasn't in the seat at all, I think he was on the edge of it. His belly was very large and pendulous and he sat in the sprawl-legged position those of us who are very fat often adopt. And I wouldn't have cared, at all, that this fat guy was right behind me, because I'm way fat and I was right behind someone else, right?
But when I sat in my seat, and he was sitting, his knees were literally on either side of my head and his belly (or his other, don't want to think about what it could have been) were against the back of my head. TOUCHING. That's intrusive. I checked and my fat was not encroaching on the row in front of me.
The show started and I stood up, which released me from the prison of this guy's legs. (He didn't smell bad, thank god.) But my leg would get tired and sore, so I'd have to take short sit breaks. The guy was now standing as well, and when I sat, his belly was on top of my head. Resting on it. So I'd quickly get back up. I checked and my belly was not sitting on anyone's head.
You can imagine that this bugged me, a lot. I know the guy's fat and he can't help it that the seats are small and the rows narrow. ( But damn, can you not make sure your belly isn't on top of someone else? The whole personal space thing?)
One of the things my husband and I do sometimes so we don't crowd others is buy 3 seats instead of 2, but I bought these tickets through a fanclub and it was 2 per customer max--but if this guy was behind me, chances are he bought fanclub tickets too).
I didn't say anything to my husband until we were in the car at the end of the show and he said I should have told him and he would have said something to the guy. Like what? "You're so fat your belly is on my wife's head?" The guy knows he's fat, just like I know I'm fat. Is it possible he couldn't feel that his belly was on or against my head? Maybe he thought it was his feet, or the back of my chair?
What was just as annoying was that the woman with him kept leaning forward and screaming directly into my ear during the main act so I ended up having to put my earplugs back in to drown her out. That ear was ringing for 2 days--the other one, not at all.
So what is the etiquette here? Do I say, "excuse me, your belly is on my head"? Would I want someone to tell me? Would I get angry if someone told me that? Or would I feel shame? Or get defensive? I can't picture it.
Mohegan Sun seems to attract a certain class of fat people; I hope I'm not part of that. A year or so ago we were going to a different show there, and we ate at one of the restaurants, and this fat guy was wearing oversized pants with the crotch down to the knees. When he sat, his whole butt was exposed, and he had a massive plumber's crack (or maybe no undies, I don't want to know) and his bare butt was on the seat in the restaurant. I was so grossed out I ended up not eating (plus they brought me the wrong food more than once).
I guess I should stop going to shows there. I wish they'd book shows into the Meadows all year and not just in the summer.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

shark week

It's shark week on Discovery Channel. I watch it every year. I have this fascination with watching the shows about people being bitten and surviving, where they recreate the attack, or if they have video. Like the horrifying one of the girl getting her leg ripped off by a great white. I watch it every time it's on and hate myself for it. (I'll post it separately.)
Last night's shark survivor show was talking about how people look like turtles. A guy wearing camo shorts got attacked in Hawaii. He says he thinks the pattern of the shorts looked like a sea turtle shell.
I used to have a gold and brown patterned bathing suit. I can't imagine how much I must have looked like an enormous sea turtle, with my round body and very small head. (I have a tiny head--I have a terrible problem finding hats. Most hats fall down to my nose.) I can't remember if I ever wore that suit in the ocean or just in pools. I would have looked like the goddess of sea turtles.

shark video (not for squeamish)

Friday, July 25, 2008

fat=fundamentally different

Between all the problems with my leg, and my weight, I walk really slow. Even I find it annoying. I could try to walk faster, but that would increase my chances of tripping over something I can't see because my giant HH boobs are in the way. And then I would stumble, maybe fall, maybe hurt myself.
My house doesn't have any closets downstairs (it's very old) so we keep the vacuum, brooms, etc., in the room with the animals. Last week, I was carrying a tray of food for the morning feeding. I can only guess that one or more of the cats was rambunctious and knocked over a broom. Between the tray and the boobs, I didn't see the broom on the floor. I tripped over it, my feet entangled in it and I fell. I didn't hit the floor. Instead my shoulder landed squarely on the handle to the upright vacuum and it felt like it punched straight through the skin. I didn't drop the tray of food either, I'm proud to say. By the time I got to work about an hour later, the bruise on my shoulder was about 3" across and tender. If I had been running, or walking quickly, no doubt I would have smashed into the vacuum on the way down and then bashed my head either against the sharp edge of the nearby table or onto a heavy metal cage.
I don't like having to be careful. I feel like I live in an unhealthy combination of fear and sadness. I probably need a shrink again, or some good antidepressants. But there are no antidepressants that don't have weight gain as a side effect. I weigh enough. Weighing MORE isn't going to make me feel LESS sad.
So that's one thing about being fat that's different. How a fat person walks and moves through the world. But just that one thing really changes you mentally as well. You have to think about things differently. Will I fit? That's the big question. Can I walk between those cars? Sit in that booth? Get in that little sports car or economy car? Can I climb all those stairs?
Balance is a huge problem. All my weight is up front. Big boobs, big belly. My butt isn't small, but it doesn't balance out my boobs. If I have to carry something, it throws my balance totally off, unless I put whatever it is on my shoulder. One physical therapist I work with said that my center of gravity is so far from where it should be that it's amazing that I can walk down a hallway without just toppling over.
And there are mental issues, so many of them. If anyone is mean to me for any reason, or ignores me, I wonder immediately if it's because I'm fat. Although I don't smell bad, I know a lot of fat people sweat a lot and do smell. Do people think I smell? Or maybe I do smell and no one has ever told me. I have a new job and I haven't made many friends yet. People tend to band with those they've worked with for a long time. Is it because they dislike me as a person? Because fat is contagious? Or do they not even think of me, because their existing friends are right there? I drive myself absolutely batshit crazy over things like this. If you don't like me because you don't like my personality, fine, I know I can be abrasive. And honestly I really don't like people much as a species.
Last night I half-watched two new shows on Comedy Central--some gong-show remake and a reality show with comedians. One of the contestants was a very overweight guy (boobs as big as mine, or so they looked) who got out of a strait jacket (and his shirt). He was starting to cram himself through a hula hoop when he got gonged.
You can watch a bit of it here:


I found myself thinking that he looked smelly. And I was appalled that I thought that way. Although he was pretty sweaty and throwing himself around the stage. If he had been trying to make a joke out of it, it might have been okay. But he seemed deadly serious, and trying desperately to get through his routine without being gonged. It made me sad for him. And I wanted to tell him to take a shower.
The other show had a fat black woman that everyone on the was supposed to try to make fall in love with them. (She's the hooker from the Borat movie.) She was pole dancing and having a lot of fun. Why can black women be sexy and fat? I know I've posted on this before and I've never found the secret. They wear clothes that shouldn't work for their size, and they look good. They look hot, even though they are 300 lbs of sausage in a 200 lb sized dress.

Monday, July 21, 2008

want? don't want? (tapeworm diet)


There's one painless, easy way to lose weight. Ingest a tapeworm! It eats what you eat and you poop out its poop. Hard to remove, but hey, why would you want to?
I find the amount of food, and selection of food, in the ad, too funny. Prunes? Coffee? Who pigs out on prunes? And coffee might work now, for the Koffee Kult of Starbucks, but back then?
And you know what's sad? There are still places you can buy tapeworms for weight loss.
Want weight loss. Do not want to eat live worms.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

obesity hardwired genetically?

It's not my fault I'm fat, it's genetic...
and here it is...
British and French scientists say they have identified several variants of a single gene that boost the risk of obesity. Previous research had shown that an extremely rare mutation in the same PCSK1 gene can, all by itself, lead to huge gains in weight, making it the only known source of so-called "monogenetic'' obesity.
....When (researchers) compared the genomes of 13,000 obese individuals of European ancestry to those of a normal control group, the researchers found three mutations in the gene that were far more common among those coping with excess weight....
PCSK1 produces an enzyme, called proconvertase 1, that plays a critical role in converting inactive forms of hormones that control appetite and regulate energy metabolism into active forms....
These hormones include insulin and glucagon, involved in the metabolism of sugar and carbohydrates, as well as a third molecule that signals to the brain that one has eaten enough.
Nearly 25 per cent of the population (studied) has a different form of the enzyme that is apparently a little bit more active.
Okay, so having a more active enzyme is bad? Isn't metabolizing things quickly POSITIVE? Don't overweight people tend to have SLOW metabolisms?
(screenprint)
And before the angry comments pour in, I do not blame my being overweight on genetics.

"You have a baby. In a bar."

This is my new pet peeve: children and babies in bars. (You might recognize the above quote from the movie “Sweet Home Alabama” in which the main character is nonplussed at meeting up with an old friend who has brought an infant to a rowdy bar.)

As part of my saving money thing (due to gas prices), I’ve been eating happy hour food in bars. You would THINK that no one under 21 would be allowed in a bar, for any reason. That’s how it used to be. You used to get carded upon entering the bar, and if you were not 21, you didn’t get in. Simple as that. It wasn’t okay to be under 21 if your mommy was with you. I can remember going to the Chili’s in Milford, CT, which is an old-style Chili’s with the bar in the front and center, and having to wait for a table. My friend and I went into the bar to wait, and I didn’t have my ID, and I had to leave, even though I was around 30 at the time and only drinking soda. The Chili’s I now eat happy hour food at is a newer style one, with a larger bar off to the side. I was there recently with my husband and a friend of mine who is in her 60’s. I was carded when I ordered my diet Pepsi and told I had to leave because I didn’t have an ID. A CHILD was sitting at the next table. I asked why the child was allowed in. Because he was with his parents. That is totally bogus. It’s a BAR, not a Chuck-E-Cheese. My husband goes to regular bars, which aren’t part of restaurants, and he tells me they are full of children, sitting there coloring while their parents drink.

WTF?

I guess it’s good that it’s so annoying, because I’m eating out less and less. Between the cost (if it’s not half price happy hour food) and the children (even when it is half price happy hour food) it’s just too frustrating for me. I would like to eat a meal without being stared at over the back of the seat, without having the seat I’m in kicked repeatedly, without having my hair pulled, without flung sippee cups and toys flying around the restaurant and bouncing off my head and table, without children running screaming up and down the aisles tripping the wait staff, without babies in filthy stinking diapers screaming because it’s 9:00 p.m. and they should be home in bed.

I guess you can call this the “I hate children” diet. I didn’t used to hate them so much, but they get worse and worse. My mother and grandmother insist that I was never allowed to act like that in public. (They like to go to Friendly’s to eat, which is kid-central.) I don’t remember ever running and screaming inside a store OR a restaurant. My husband admits to throwing tantrums and having to be dragged out of places as a very small child, but he wasn’t allowed to keep being bad, he was removed.

I am SO GLAD I haven’t got any children. If you are thinking about procreating, please visit this website: http://www.vhemt.org/

Monday, July 14, 2008

something peculiar, times two

Due to the outrageous cost of gas, I've been eating lunch at work rather than going out. Saves money, saves time, whether it saves any calories I don't know. But I'll tell you this: after 3 weeks of doing it, I have no desire to eat fast food.
The other day I was thinking how strange it was that I never finish my can of Diet Pepsi when I eat food from home. It annoys me that the soda for some reason bubbles up the straw and drips everywhere. I found a small glass I could use and started pouring my soda into the glass. And the first day I did that, I drank TWO cans. Eating the same exact food, same portion size, as the day before when I drank half a can. Feeling no more or less thirsty.
I'm sure this is in some way related to the whole container-size issue, but I don't understand how. Why would I not finish a full can when drinking from the can (treating the can as a serving size) but drink way more when using a small juice glass (like a glass Dixie cup)?
So that's the peculiar thing which is kind of interesting.

Now this is the one that's kind of bad.
The other day, I used the bathroom at a restaurant, and when I wiped it was all blood. The toilet didn't look like it had blood in it, though. I had just ended my period a couple days before so it wasn't that, and anyway I could tell it was coming from my butt area. I haven't told anyone (but you, readers) because I don't know what to do. I had been eating a lot of tomato sauce and salsa that day and the day before, so I'm thinking was it somehow tomatoes? But then again, I'm a girl, and I've seen period blood plenty of times, and this sure looked like blood.
Here's how it can go. There aren't many ways.
  • It was nothing.
  • It was something, and I die.
  • It was something, and I get better.
Since I just lost my father, I hope it isn't option 3, because literally that would kill my mother, and my grandma. I'm the only child/grandchild. And obviously I want to live.
It hasn't happened again. My butt feels fine. I feel fine (except for my leg). So now what?

Monday, June 16, 2008

mug shot (off topic)

Over the weekend I stopped at the grocery store with a friend. Although it was the store I shop at, it was a different time of day than I would usually go. The joke in our town is that you are almost guaranteed to see someone you know if you go to that store on the weekend.
I saw, for the first time in 14 years, my favorite ex-boyfriend (the last time I saw him was in that store too). It is weird to think we are both creeping up on 40, because in my mind we are always 15 and 17. He was my first love and he never cared that I was overweight. He's bearded now, and rather gray, but I still recognized him right away. He was wearing a weird hat, a very bright aqua shirt, and off-label jeans that were definitely dirty. He glanced at me and my friend (who graduated with him and who, to my eyes, still looks the same as in high school, but also with more gray) without recognition. (She didn't see him or didn't recognize him.)
I saw him again, walking past the end of an aisle where were were standing, and finally he was in line right next to us. With two little kids and a wife (I assume wife). I wasn't shocked to see him with kids. I could see the back of the woman's head with him--she was blonde.
Now this guy, other than me and a different friend of mine, had pretty good taste in women (mostly). He dated half a pair of identical twins who looked like models and another girl who was a model. I was curious to see who he ended up with. Did I know her?
Our line moved faster (we were in a self-checkout express; he was in a regular line) and I was able to turn around and look at his wife's face without seeming obvious.
And I felt terrible.
She looked like a mug shot. That's the best way I can describe her. Her skin was thick and coarse, her features undelicate, and she had inches of dark roots. The blond hair I'd seen from the back had that nasty greenish tinge that badly dyed blond hair gets. She was unsmiling and completely unappealing. I couldn't tell you if she was overweight or underthin or in between (I'd say she wasn't really fat because I would have noticed that). She didn't look like she used to look better, if that makes any sense.
I wanted to cry. Because what I had wanted to see was my ex, who I still have affection for, with someone happy. Not necessarily beautiful, but a happy person, a person that he smiled at who smiled back. I wanted to look at him and think "I'm glad he's happy." Because when I knew him, in high school and college, he was a happy guy with a bouncy step, who looked a little like Richard Gere.
I guess the dirty jeans should have clued me in that he wasn't happy. They weren't dirty like "I was working in the yard" or "I was fixing my truck" or "I was knocking down a wall" dirty. They were just unwashed and nasty, although the shirt looked clean. One of his children was climbing him and he was looking down with no expression, saying, "What do you want?" to her. Not annoyed, just not caring.
I don't want people to come and flame me and say I judged my friend and my friend's wife on appearances. A dirty person who isn't smiling, who is with another unsmiling dirty person, is not happy. I wish his wife was gorgeous and rich and kept him happy every minute of every day. If not the first two, the last one is mandatory.
When my friend and I got into her car, I said, "I hate it when I see an old friend and they are unhappy." I told her what I had seen and she was sad too. I almost wanted to sit in the parking lot and see them come out, but I didn't suggest it. I might have if I was alone.
Now I know he still lives in town so maybe I'll run into him again, and actually talk to him and get the whole story.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

bathroom rant (brief)

You know what I hate, what makes me abso-fucking-lutely crazy? Skinny size 0 women in the handicapped stall. Obviously not handicapped or with babies (not that there's a changing table in there). I want to confront them: there are six non-handicapped stalls open that your skinny bitch ass fits in. Why don't you use one?





Monday, June 09, 2008

bad eating habits and lack of exercise do not cause obesity

WHAT? Or more accurately, WTF? But it's true. I have a trifecta of articles which say exactly that. And contradict each other. But who's paying attention?

A lack of exercise and time spent sitting in front of a television or computer screen are not to blame for the boom in obesity, scientists have said. Researchers have found that people burn the same number of calories each day as they have for the last 20 years, which means that over-eating rather than a sedentary lifestyle is the main cause of the "obesity epidemic". (1) (pubmed link to study)
But then again...
Your nerves, rather than your eating habits, may have a more direct role in whether you are fat or thin, according to new research.(2)
So which is it?
Researchers from the universities of Aberdeen and Maastricht have discovered that there has been no reduction in the level of energy people use in their daily lives over the past 20 years.
They also found that comparisons of energy expended by people in both the USA and Europe differ little from those in pre-industrial societies in the Third World. (1)
Honestly, I find that hard to believe. I am sure that most American & European office workers use a lot less calories than someone who lives a step above hunter-gatherer.
So if we aren't lazy, are we pigs?
A study on worms shows that serotonin levels in the nervous system influence feeding and fat. Serotonin, a neurotransmitter, also acts independently to control eating and what your body does with those calories once they've been consumed, the study said. (Pubmed link to study)
The head of the study suggests, "From a clinical perspective, this may mean you could develop therapeutic strategies to manipulate fat metabolism independently of what you eat. Now, the focus is primarily on feeding behavior. As important as that is, it's only part of the story. If the logic of the system is conserved across species, a strategy that focuses solely on behavior can only go so far. It may be one reason diets fail."
So what does this mean? That I eat like a worm, exercise like someone in a 3d world country and that I'm fat anyway?
I'm not above taking personal responsibility for my weight. Yes, I have been known to overeat occasionally. Not every day, not every meal, and not like one sees on TV. And yes, I don't exercise enough (especially in the last few weeks with my knee being so bad and my PT schedule). But the little bit that I overeat should not have produced the body I have.
I was at a counseling session this week (I'm not really going again, it was a 1-time thing, or maybe a 2 time thing), talking about childhood fears, when's the first time I remember being fat, etc. We did hit some breakthroughs, but one thing that came up (as I was sitting there crying) was that my body is like a punishment, a prison I can't escape, 200 lbs of jail I lug with me every minute of every day, and what the hell did I do so bad in my life to deserve this?

PT blues

I'm really unhappy with the physical therapy I've been getting. The way that they schedule me, I had to give up going into the pool, because they only give me appointments during the same window I can go into the water. I was told at my first appointment by the therapist that I could swim for free as a PT patient but when I tried to arrange that, I was told it wasn't true. I only went there for PT because I wanted water therapy, but I can't get it because my doctor didn't SPECIFY. He wrote, "Evaluate and treat"-he didn't say "NO WATER THERAPY" but they refuse to give me water therapy because he didn't specify..
I'm not doing 3+ hours a week of exercise. I'm doing none. That is NOT an improvement.
The "therapy" has mostly been massage. Which is fine, and if I was also working out, it would probably be helping. But 2 half hour sessions of massage each week don't equal 3 hours of full-on workout. So my edema is horrible. Each co-pay costs more than a month of pool membership.
Last week one of the three therapists I've worked with (one of them horrible) decided it was time to give me real therapy in the gym room. I thought I'd be using machines. No. First she had me do calf raises, a whole 20. I'm looking at her in disbelief--only 20? Then side leg raises, again, only 20. I can do jumping jacks for 15 minutes straight in the pool, the equivalent of hundreds of these. And not with weights on my ankles or resistance on a machine--she just had me using "body weight" as my resistance. Totally lame.
Then she had me do another exercise that was balance related. And I couldn't do even 1 correctly. My center of gravity isn't in my pelvis where it should be, and if it was, I could have done it with no problem. I can tell from how this therapist is with me that she's never worked with a very overweight patient before. She has no idea what I am capable of and doesn't think that I know my own body at all. I try to do it, it's an epic fail, and I say, "Physically I cannot do that without falling." She weighs about 110 and she shows me "It's easy, do this." I try, and I fall backwards. Then she decides it will be easier if I do it leaning against a balance ball. It's not a no-burst ball and I could tell it wouldn't take my weight. I point this out. She insists it will. I know it won't, because I own 2 no-burst balls and they feel totally different under me. I'm trying to put my full weight onto an inflated piece of rubber that's not going to take it and also balance myself against my center of gravity and not fall. (BTW, I noticed as I was walking out that there are shreds of popped balance balls hanging on hooks around the room. So much for no-burst, huh?) Another epic fail. Every time she forces me to try this, there is a pain in my knee like it's ripping inside. I tell her this, she makes me try yet another configuration because she's just not getting it. I know the difference between workout pain because I am pushing myself and injury pain, but she doesn't believe me.
I'm walking out of the facility, holding the wall, trying not to cry, and another therapy patient who also can't walk comes up to me and asks if I'm all right because it's obvious I'm about to fall over. Here's this skinny guy with a hip replacement and he's going to help me? I went to get into my car, which obviously requires me to put my right (good) leg into the foot well and for a brief moment transfer my full weight onto my (bad) left leg. When I did that, the leg just gave way. No pain, it just buckled underneath me and I had to grab onto the door and hang from it before heaving myself into the driver's seat in a huge burst of pain.
Unhappy? Me?
That night I went to visit a friend of mine, who happens to be a nurse (a planned social visit, not because of my leg). She was appalled at the state of my edema. I think it's the worse it's ever been. She tried rubbing it but it's solid fluid with no give. She was holding my foot looking at my calf and she finally said, "This isn't good at all. This is very bad. What are they doing for therapy?" Her opinion, and I agree, is that I'm better off just doing my workout and stopping if it hurts (pain, not workout hurt) than paying all this money for something that's exacerbating the problem, not alleviating it.
I basically spent all weekend in bed with my leg up, in pain. I'm trying to eat less, but I know I'm gaining weight. It's a vicious horrible cycle and I'm dreadfully unhappy and I don't know what to do.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

my knee

I've done about half a dozen physical therapy sessions. They aren't what I expected. I expected exercise. I'm getting massage. Lymphatic drainage massage, which feels like an Indian rope burn when done a certain way. The way they've been scheduling the sessions, I can't go to the pool. And I honestly feel like the pool helps me more.
The status is, my knee doesn't hurt constantly anymore. I still can't straighten it. It gets tired very quickly, and then sore. I understand that I need PT to fix the stiffness and make it straighten again. But I thought I'd be working with weights or in the pool.
The two women who alternate sessions concluded that my edema is so entrenched (around the lower part of my leg, the fluid is more like solid jello than water) that it needs to be broken up and managed better before they can fix my knee. My kneecap should be free-floating and it's fused into place by the edema. And my whole body is out of alignment after almost 6 months of limping.
I've been hiring my friend's two teenage kids to clean my house and work in my yard. My husband won't do anything around the house if I'm not doing it too, even if I'm unable. But let the kids come over and all of sudden he's buying and laying grass seed, raking, cleaning the resin furniture. I say, "can we wash the lawn furniture this weekend?" and he won't do it...let me hand over a few $20s to some kids and he's all over it. That pisses me off so much.
My car was unfortunately involved in a hit and run ($2000 worth of damage) and the police are working on the guy who did it. We have the license plate and even know where he lives. But meanwhile my car needs repair and I've got to shell out hundreds of dollars in deductibles because it's this guy's word against my husband's (who witnessed the accident). Even though the damage to the guy's vehicle matches the damage to mine. It's really pissing me off. I have to carpool to work, it's messed up my hours there, and my 3 month trial period is almost up. I fell at work (over nothing--my leg locked) and had to file a workers comp claim and I'm terrified they won't keep me, thinking I'm going to cost them money instead of being an asset.
I've started taking Glucosamine and Chondroitin Sulfatewhich is supposed to be good for joints. I have to order some Udo's 3-6-9 fish-free omega oil too.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

lots of obesity news--fat monkeys, fat ladies biting off ears, fat kids taken away, and fat discrimination

Here's a round-up of some recent obesity stories which caught my eye. My new job keeps me really busy all the time (unlike my old one) plus it's full time (unlike my old one), so my blogging time has been cut way back. I couldn't blog at work anyway, because I haven't got Photoshop to do my screenprints with.



Obese children ‘may be put in care’
(A couple)claimed their six children will be taken from them and placed in care unless they can bring their weight under control within three months.
I wonder what "under control" means in this context?
Causing social workers most concern is the weight of the 12-year-old child, who is more than 16 stone, and another three-year-old child who weighs four stone.
That's 224 lbs for the 12 year old, and 56 lbs for the 3 year old. My friend has a 3 year old. I think the child weighs maybe 20-25 lbs.
However, the parents are adamant that their children are only displaying puppy fat and believe it will be shed as they grow older.
Puppy fat? 226 lbs on a 12 year old? I was a fat 12 year old and I weighed around 100 lbs.
Yes, by any standards, these kids are fat. But will putting them into foster care really make their lives better? I mean, this is something to really debate. The children will be split up--no one wants to take in 6 kids that aren't theirs--and not be with their parents. I don't know how the foster system is in Australia (where this is happening), but I doubt it's any good.
You can argue that parents who deny their children medical care for religious reasons often get taken to court and their wishes overridden and a guardian appointed to oversee the child's medical care. Is having fat kids the same thing? Is feeding a child fast food equal to denying a blood transfusion?
(Source, screenprint)

Call me fat again and I'll bite off your ear...I've always wanted to bite off someone's nose, actually, but I don't think calling me fat would be justification for that in anyone's eyes!
A woman who chewed off part of a man's ear after he called her fat was given two years' probation yesterday.
They had gone to a hotel room to have sex, but the man changed his mind and called her fat. I'm sure that was terribly upsetting. But to bite off his ear? I wonder how drunk they were, since they met at a bar.
(Source; screenprint)


Is saying "don't discriminate against fat people" the same thing as "it's okay to be fat"?
Massachusetts wants to make fat discrimination illegal.
In an overwhelmingly overweight nation that worships thinness, many describe prejudice against the obese as one of the last socially acceptable biases. Advocates for the plus-sized, particularly activists in the "fat acceptance" movement, want obesity to become a category legally protected against discrimination, like religion, race, age and sex. But not everyone agrees.
...."Legislation happens when people are too childish to police themselves," said Sue Ann Jaffarian, author of the Odelia Grey mystery series starring a 220-pound heroine who is a reflection of her creator."But, as a fat woman, I don't want a green light," said Jaffarian, 55, who worries that such a law would validate what some consider unhealthy weight. "The downside of legislation is that the prejudice would go more underground."
I'm not really sure how it can go "underground" as she says. It's not very much in the open now. No one has ever said to me, "We won't hire you because you're fat" or "we're firing you because you're fat" (and those are legal things such a bill would address). Has anyone ever said, "I won't date you because you're fat"? Sure, and fuck them. But a law wouldn't stop people from being assholes.
(Source; screenprint)

I saved my favorite one for last: chunky Japanese monkeys. (See photo, above, and I hope that curly thing is the monkey's tail and not his, um, happy place.)
Happy tourists visiting the wildlife park in Japan might have thought they were treating the monkeys. But they have left many of them so overweight they can hardly get around.
Isn't this the ZOO's fault? Why let the tourists feed the monkeys? And honestly I can't believe the monkeys got that fat overnight.
About 50 Macaca mulatta monkeys at Ohama park in Sakai, Osaka Prefecture have been so overfed by tourists they are now massively overweight....A healthy Macaca mulatta monkey weighs about 20lbs, but one of these chunkies is over 4st. (Which we already know from the story above is 56 lbs. Or 3x what it should weigh. Not unlike me.)
I feel bad for these monkeys. It's their keeper's fault. Monkeys don't have the sense to say "no, thanks, don't throw me another banana, I'm full."
(Source; screenprint)

Thursday, May 01, 2008

MRI results

My MRI results came back and I'm pretty pissed off.
I have a "Baker's cyst" and moderate arthritis (just in that knee). The cyst can't be operated on because I am too fat. I can't walk because my knee hurts so much. How exactly am I supposed to lose weight?
And of course, it's my fat's fault that I have arthritis and a cyst. Although my other knee is just fine. So I'm only fat on the left? Sounds like a funky movie title: "Fat on the left". What would it be about, I wonder?
I start physical therapy in a week. I can go 90 times. At $40 a pop. I'm hoping to get some kind of routine I can do myself in the pool and/or on my bowflex. It's warm enough now that I can set it up in the garage and use it.
My boss at work is coming up with crazy diets for me. Eating only string cheese and eggs, for instance. Neither of which I would eat. I don't feel like getting into the whole eating disorder-food neophobia thing with her.
ARGH the whole thing just pisses me off. I am so tired of everything being blamed on what I weigh.

Monday, April 28, 2008

on being fat

At my new job, they only know me as a fat hobbling cripple. I don’t like that. I hung up pictures on the wall of me young and thin, but I wonder if they realize it’s even me? It’s funny because I am twice the size of a regular person, if not three times, but I feel like less than a human.

I got lost on the way to work today; not because I’m a moron but because the rain had bogged up traffic on the highway and I decided to take a shortcut, only I took the wrong road. So my 20 mile commute took an hour and I had plenty of time to think.

When I was thin, I ate a lot of food. I would get a medium pizza with extra cheese, extra sauce, double dough and eat it all up by myself. (Why not just get 2 pizzas? I don’t know.) No one ever looked at me funny for eating like that. I worked at a donut shop and ate donuts every day. Not one donut a day. Donuts, plural. Like 3 or 4 or even more. Every day. I wore a size 5.

But I also used to walk to work (couple of miles). Does that burn off all those donuts?

When I was getting my MRI, I brought my mom along, because after I got my last one, I was in such pain I couldn’t walk, much less drive. I was okay this time, and she decided to go pick up my grandma and take us all to dinner. The restaurant we had coupons for is at the bottom of the hill where the MRI trailer was. It would have been logical, once upon a time, for me to say “I’ll walk to the restaurant and get a table while you go get Grandma.” But I wouldn’t have made it half way there. I probably wouldn’t have made it to the bottom of the hill, much less across the (spacious) parking lot.

And that pisses me off.

I am an anomaly in the population at large, in that I don’t dislike exercise and even enjoy it. However, much of the exercise I’d LIKE to do—like walking from the MRI trailer to the restaurant—is beyond me.

When I was thin I didn’t think much of walking anywhere. Going for a five mile stroll with my Walkman on (that’s what we had before I-pods, for you younguns) was something I did for fun. I’d walk 3 or 4 miles to a friend’s house without even calling, just to find her not home, and turn around and walk back home without ever sitting down once.

Gaining weight gets you in so many ways. Your metabolism slows so it’s easier to gain weight. You eat less, gain more. The more you weigh, the harder it is to move around, so you move less, and then you gain more. Until you can’t move at all, and you live in your bed, and they have to take down the wall of your house and take you out on a forklift, and you’re on the news, and everyone laughs at you, and on your dresser, now exposed to the elements, is your high school graduation picture, where you weighed 120 and were absolutely gorgeous, and if anyone even looks, they probably think it’s your sister. Because you were never thin and beautiful, because no one who looked like that would every let themselves get to be so fat they can’t move.

Right?