Friday, December 30, 2011

600 lb woman quits the feeder business

600 lb woman quits feeder businessI first posted about Donna Simpson almost 2 years ago, when her ambition was to become the fattest woman in the world.
I doubt I thought of her much since, except maybe when watching that horror movie about feeders.  I probably figured she was dead.
But she isn't.  She has lost 85 lbs, moved to a new state, and quit the feeder business to become healthy.

For years, the 44-year-old mother of two was a star in the fantasy fetish community that worshipped the overweight and the feeding that led to it. Simpson had a website where men paid $19 a month to watch her eat.....But as the year winds to a close, Simpson has moved on. She left New Jersey ...and returned to her hometown of Akron. She has turned away from the fantasy world, replacing her pre-recorded videos of her with a blog about her journey to health. She already has lost about 85 pounds, and she hopes to join a gym soon to begin walking in a pool. She has modified her eating, as well. 
She has a blog about her new lifestyle on her website instead of feeder videos. I'd post an encouraging comment, but no comments are allowed. 
I'm so happy for her.  I hope she has a great 2012.

 (screenprint   original)


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2011 exercise roundup

In 2011, I accomplished: 14,000 minutes of exercise, including running 1,126 miles in the pool.  Over 230 hours.  Average about 4.5 hours per week.
That's nearly 188 hours of running and the balance (~45 hours) is mostly tai-chi/qi-gong and a little bit of walking.
SparkPeople, of course, wants you to do a whopping 2880 minutes per year.  That's 48 hours per year, or less than an hour per week.




I think that's close to the max that I can do.  lessons 2x per week, that's 5 hours a week or 15,600 minutes in a year.  But I can't guarantee that I can take 2 classes a week all of 2012 or that I won't get a job that will cut into my pool time.  I guess 15,000 minutes is my 2012 goal for now, barring illness or the pool being closed (see February for example of bad month).
It is funny how ingrained it is in me that I am fat therefore I am lazy and out of shape. 
fat=lazy 
fat=poor health
fat=out of shape

and don't forget the oldie but goodie
fat=stupid
I know that under my padding of adipose tissue, my muscles are rock-solid.  My blood work is fine.  My blood pressure and resting heart rate are fine.  My IQ hasn't dropped any points as far as I know (last time I tested it online it was actually up slightly).
It doesn't matter.  People see me, or see my photo, and think "fat, lazy, stupid" and I think that myself.  Programming can be a terrible thing.
Happy New Year and thanks for reading.  See you in 2012.  



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Sunday, December 04, 2011

updates and pic

I've been quiet lately, I know, weird for me. But nothing fat-related or food-related has really been going on.  I finished a few books and they are available on Amazon.  They are new age and not about being fat.  If you email me (wholelottarosieyoung at yahoo dot com) I will send you Amazon links but I'm not outing my real name on here.
The only thing I've been doing is running in the pool like a mad woman.  I used to run about 20 miles a week (200 minutes) and now I'm doing 33 miles (110 minutes a day, 3x a week) and last week I did a 20 mile single run.  Next week I'm doing a whole marathon's worth (26 miles, 4.5 hours) on Wednesday.  Not for weight loss, although I'm sure it's happening, but just to see if I can hit 1,000 miles (10,000 minutes) of running for the year. I'm at 915 miles so far.  I saw a guy on the Biggest Loser Thanksgiving talking about his goal of 500 miles a year and I sniggered at him.  I'm still fat and doing twice that, what's his excuse?  Plus I'm still doing tai chi, I'm taking 2 classes a week (one advanced, one beginner), so doing about 3 hours a week of tai chi and qi gong.
Seasonal Affective Disorder has really nailed me this year, even with the Wellbutrin.  I get up, run in the pool and collapse into dreamtime upon getting home.  I'm sleeping a ridiculous amount, like a cat.  I don't think I'm up 6 hours a day.  But I have no motivation.  My books are done.  I have no job.  What does it matter if I get up or not?  Who cares?  Probably some depression talking there too.  I know in mid-January I'll magically snap out of it, but that's a long way away and my new faux down comforter (clearance & sale at Kohls) is so comfy...
My husband might be getting transferred to another town with a longer commute but he'd be making a third more money and the people in that department specifically asked for him to come work there.  Which is a good thing, right?  More money and people who really like him--not that his current people DISLIKE him, but it's nice to be REQUESTED.   I wish someone would request me and give me a chunk of money.  It still might happen, right?
Oh, the picture? Yeah, that's me.  And hubby, actually, lurking behind me.  My body is getting to be shaped really weird.  My hips aren't terribly wide, but I'm THICK, thicker when turn sideways then when I face forward.
I feel like I should be so much thinner.  I hate myself sometimes.  I'm weak when it comes to food, my portion sizes are usually too big and my food choices terrible.
Anyway, come hang out with me on Facebook.  If I feel entertained maybe I'll stay awake.



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Wednesday, November 02, 2011

stinky fish

I found this article about why fish stinks.
I know it isn't just me.  If you put "I hate the smell of fish" into Google, there are TONS of postings and sites and articles (some concerned with lady parts as opposed to aquatic food sources, so be careful).
The only sentence of note in the article, for me, is: "we associate rotting fish with food poisoning, (so) we’re conditioned to find its smell disgusting rather than appetizing."
Yes, I really want to run out and eat something that smells like POISON.
It's funny that my mom can only sometimes smell fish, but when she DOES smell it, it bothers her too (and she eats fish).  Whatever fish they serve at the 99 Restaurant is really bad, and once in a while when I go there with her, she'll shudder and say "wow that fish stinks" and I'll say "that's how it smells to me ALL THE TIME" and for that brief span, she'll feel sympathy for me as we ask to be seated far from the stench.
And on this page, the age old "fresh fish doesn't stink" question is debunked: "it is a myth that fresh fish doesn't smell!! AND the fattier, the smellier. if you don't believe this, go fish for salmon. it smells up the boat when we bring it in."
My earliest experience with fish stench was being near fishing boats bringing in their "fresh" catch (going out daily) and smelling the garbage, rotten horridness of it. FRESH JUST CAUGHT fish that STANK.
I really, really hate fish.   A fish makes a lovely pet and a lousy lunch.
(picture source is also a funny post about stinky fish)

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Tuesday, November 01, 2011

would you join this gym?

Would you join this gym?
(source)

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Thursday, October 27, 2011

I love my kitties (off topic, rant)

There has been a spate of dog attacks around me lately.  My online friend got bitten badly by a dog and another killed her beloved conure.  My mom got mauled by the neighbor's dog (and so did our dog)--she needed 16 stitches and that was with the dog biting THROUGH her jacket and shirt, I forget how many the dog needed, maybe half a dozen.
I've owned dogs--I currently half-own one (Mom's got it because Grandma likes the dog)--but now I don't  want to be around even my little dog.
Last night, though, was horrible and I'm glad I wasn't there.  My friend came home from picking up her 7 year old daughter from daycare and the street was filled with cops and the animal control van.  In the  neighbor's driveway was their cat, murdered by a pit bull and of course the little girl saw it--"Look Mommy isn't that our kitty?" Did I  mention that the child's birthday was this weekend? Happy birthday little girl, you'll never forget this one.  The dog didn't even belong to the house it was at, it was the people's son's dog and they kept it locked up in the basement.  The people refused to speak to Animal Control or the cops, and didn't even bother to walk across the street and say "sorry our son's dog killed your cat."  The irony is that my friend owns and loves a pit bull and staunchly defends the breed (her dog is really super sweet). Animal Control did seize the dog (more than they did for my mom's attack!) but that seems to be the end of it.  A sweet, silly kitty who didn't deserve to die like that, a traumatized child, and not even a token "sorry" tossed their way.  That makes me SO angry.  Other neighbors heard the attack but the cat was killed fairly quickly so they couldn't do anything except call the authorities; they can't be blamed.
So my kitties today are being allowed to do anything they want.  They got extra food.  I'm not moving them aside if they annoy me with head-butts and meows while I am writing my book.  They are getting scratchings and kisses and love.  I will laugh if the big male poops on the floor next to his litter box (which he does about half the time) or if my old cat bites me when he wants to be brushed.


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Monday, October 24, 2011

being pruned from the family tree

I'm on Facebook as Rosie (come friend me) and obviously also under my real name.  Last night one of my "cousins" (I have no real first cousins, they are all second cousins and removed cousins and in-law cousins, the price of being the only child of 2 only children) posted about 2 dozen pictures of a family reunion that my mom and grandma (and I) weren't invited to.
I was tempted to call my mom and say "did you  know so-and-so is in town?  And that everyone got together at Aunt whatsis's house?" (I recognized her kitchen in the pictures.)  But I didn't want to hurt my mom's feelings.  These are my mom's first cousins, that she grew up with (one of them is my godmother).  My grandma's in-laws and nieces and nephews.  Clearly our branch has been pruned from THAT family tree, huh? 
It reminded me of when I was little and we hadn't been removed from the family yet. I was the only girl and none of those boys wanted to play with me--because I was a girl and because I was fat, I'm sure.  No one ever wanted to play with me because I was fat. So I never played (exercised) and got fatter.  How depressing is that?  And now 35 years later, it's like I don't even exist when those boys get together.  And yet the one who is friends with me on Facebook, he had to know I'd see the pictures. 
As I write this, my grandma's in the hospital.  My  mom had to call the ambulance at 3 a.m.  Grandma went from fine at supper, fine at bedtime, to massively sick. She's been admitted with pneumonia--how does that happen in six hours?  I wonder, when she dies, if any of the family who ignored us will show up for her funeral.
(image source)

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Sunday, October 09, 2011

back boobs, again

Offered without further comment:


Source

Monday, September 19, 2011

Rosie is a bad guy. As usual. (off topic)

Recently I wrote about someone I know who went rather crazy and accused me of being, basically, in a gang of crooks and thieves.
I won't rehash the story; go to the link if you haven't already read the post.
This person just requested of me, through her new mate, that I go and feed her cat while she's on vacation!  I said no.  I won't feed her cat.  What did she say to me when I said, "I hope we can still be friends?"  "I don't think so."  I don't think I can go feed your damn cat.  You must have other friends you didn't abuse and dump, ask them.
And guess what?  Now I'm a bad person.  A pet abuser.  Because I won't feed her cat.
A week before she had the epiphany that we were a bunch of crooks, her car got towed and impounded.  She called me, freaking out, needing help. I drove her around for 2 hours, from this lot to that, to the bank, etc.  She promised in return to take me out to dinner.  She asked me where. I chose Outback. She said Outback was too expensive and she couldn't afford it. (Really?  Outback.  Sheesh.)  A couple of days later, I was branded a thief and a crook and there went my dinner.
And now I'm supposed to do her another favor?  What were her words?  "I don't think so."
To make matters worse, now my husband is so pissed at me that HE'S feeding the fucking cat.  WTF. Because I'm the bad guy, the bitch who won't forgive and forget.
The sound you hear is me banging my head into a wall repeatedly.  Maybe I'll give myself brain damage and become stupid enough to be this idiot's friend again.
Update:  In case you're wondering, I'm doubly a bad guy because I am "refusing to be friends with someone who is mentally ill".  That was today's lecture, before my husband went off to fawn over this nut's cat.


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Sunday, September 18, 2011

mocking lymph edema

This picture is making the rounds on the internet joke sites. I agree that it's ugly. But it's lymph edema. I recognize it all too well. This person CAN'T wear socks and probably is grateful they found those adjustable shoes. Lymph edema legs are hotter than regular legs. I wear capris with my LE. Fuck it if you don't like how it looks. It's a disease, I control it as best I can...so I don't look like this pic. Makes me sad to see people mocking what they don't understand.
No one ever posts a picture of someone overweight thinking they look nice.  We know we don't look nice. Most of us do our best and try not to end up on People of Wal-mart and otherwise being mocked.

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Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Lazy Rosie is...lazy

I was having dinner with my mom last night. It's something we do once a week, either have dinner or lunch depending on her work schedule. We were talking about a relative who was recently diagnosed with some sort of heart condition. This person has a sit-down job, comes home from work, and watches TV.  That's her life.  She's overweight, of course, and she drinks at least one two-liter bottle of Pepsi (not diet) every day.  So it is really not surprising at all to find that she's not well.  (She tried Weight Watchers but she was using all her points on Pepsi instead of food, so she didn't lose weight, surprise, and quit.)
My mother, ever so helpful, points out that I have a sit-down job (essentially) and so therefore I am "sedentary" and in the same boat as the relative.  I pointed out, calmly, that I run around 30 miles a week (300 minutes/5 hours) and do around 3 hours a week of Tai-chi.  These are minimum numbers.
Mom's response?  "Right, you're sedentary."  Because my mom, of course, is super woman.  She works part time.  She is a caretaker to my 95-year old grandmother.  And she walks every day 5-10 miles, rain or snow or sun, and she also gardens.  To her, I'm the laziest thing on the planet, maybe a step up from a slug, but probably not.  Our truly sedentary relative is probably not even alive by my mom's high standards.
I try not to let it bother me.  My mom's always been my biggest critic, and always fostered the "never enough" in me.  If I got an A, why wasn't it an A+?  If I won a writing contest, why didn't I win all of them?  I lost weight and went down to 114 lbs but she constantly harped on me that I would gain the weight back and guess what?  After 2 years, I did.  (And you know what?  I ate MORE during those two years I was thin than I EVER have when I was overweight.)  She measures everyone's fatness by mine.  "She's as fat as you, Rosie.   He's not quite as big as you."
But still, I feel a sense of accomplishment in spite of my mother.  I ran 10 miles this morning (100 minutes) bringing my total this year to over 650 miles. Last month I logged over 25 hours of exercise.  Not Biggest Loser numbers, but not shabby for someone doing it alone.
So, anyway, I came here to tell you all that I am sorry for being so lazy and I'll try to kick it up a notch, m'kay?


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Thursday, August 04, 2011

Is Abuse an Excuse?

Break Up


This is a bit off topic perhaps.
Some overweight women are fat in part due to past sexual and/mental abuse (Rosie raises hand) but that's not what this is about.
This is about a situation between me and someone I thought was a friend. Heavily edited, but the gist is there.
I've known this woman for 20 years and she was in an abusive relationship for most of that time. It really messed with her head. I wasn't friends with her continually because her partner had gone after me and my husband, saying a bunch of mean, untrue things and we dropped them both--they were too entwined for separate friendships. (When we did run into each other we always talked for a few minutes. I never stopped liking her.)
Finally last year she broke away, good for her, and hooked up with someone close to me. We resumed our friendship. I was happy for her and for her new mate. In fact I did her a huge favor (cost me time and money) right before all this went down.
Then she broke up with the new person. I was sad for both of them. I hoped we'd be friends still and she said no. That hurt me, a lot.  I could understand why for 20 years we couldn’t be close—her ex was really an asshole—but I had nothing to do with the current break-up (or so I thought).  I felt punished.
No one, including the person she dumped, had any idea what happened. Everyone said “well she's so messed up after 20 years with (jerk)” --like that excuses any kind of rudeness or strange behavior on her part.
Finally, months later, the “cause” of the breakup was revealed (and you know I don’t misuse quotes…).
Her new mate had sent a text message joking about a trick her dog had done. She took it out of context and decided the whole lot of us were involved in illegal activity she didn't condone. Instead of simply asking “what did that comment mean?” she created a whole fantasy about it. And when the cause was revealed everyone excused her because of the abuse. Mate took her right back (why?), but I felt confused why it was okay for her to treat me and all the other supposed “criminals” around her new mate like dirt, just because her ex treated HER like dirt.
I didn't do anything wrong. Even if her new mate was a crook, I’m not, and didn't deserve to be thought of that way. Neither did her mate (whose worse crime is overuse of his medical marijuana card). But everyone makes excuses for her because “she's messed up from (jerk)’s abuse.”
I was beat up and cheated on for 4 years and I don't turn on innocent people because of it. I don’t make up fantasies about how they are international jewel thieves and career criminals because of a fucking JOKE text message about a dog doing a trick with a camera.
Recently she sent me an email apologizing for speaking "harshly" to me. I didn't answer it. Now of course I’m the bad guy for not taking her back with open arms after she decided I was a criminal based on a joke text someone else sent (that didn't mention me) about a dog.
A joke.  About a dog.  And she destroyed friendships and relationships over this instead of simply saying, “I don’t get it” or “WTF?”
I don't understand why past poor treatment should entitle her (or anyone) to misjudge and hurt others. If she is indeed mentally compromised by this relationship she should seek therapy. Not create hurtful, harmful fantasies about those around her.
I have seen this before—“You must excuse so-and-so for (fill in the blank) because she was (raped/beaten/robbed/lied to/bitten by a spider).”
My past mistreatment comes back to *me*--I don’t make up stories about other people making me fat because my ex beat me up.
I am fat because when I was thin I got beat up when other guys looked at me (knowing that, however doesn't fix it).  So obviously if I am FAT, no guys look at me, hence I don’t get smacked around.  Right?
I don't freak when my husband looks at a thin girl (he's human) or beat him for it. I take responsibility for my behavior, I guess I’m saying. (I hope I do.)
She didn't say in her note “I was mean to you because my ex was mean to me” but she did say her life was “difficult” the day of the breakup when she told me she couldn’t be my friend anymore. Difficult, so you turn on a friend of 20 years who is trying to support you during an inexplicable breakup? I don't get it.
People baffle me. I baffle me sometimes.
Afterward:
This is probably one of those posts that’s going to get a lot of hateful comments saying I’m a selfish insensitive whiny bitch with a huge sense of entitlement. Oh, and I’m fat and lazy too, and I eat like a pig and that’s why I’m fat.
Don’t bother, please, it’s all been said before by others.
Image source


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Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Am I in your way?

True story:
Rosie, running in the pool. Music cranked. Pump arms. Pump legs. Breathe. Boom boom boom boom boom. Rosie does not deviate from her location; that is part of the discipline.
Suddenly, from behind, large squishy smelly old lady is against Rosie. Full body press. Sticky. Gross.
Rosie stops running. Turns. Sees old lady pressed against her. "Excuse me?" Rosie says in disbelief.
"Oh, am I in your way?" Still pressed.
"You just crashed into me." STOP TOUCHING ME. Eww. Gross.
Without apology, old lady moves to about 6 feet away.
WTF?
And you wonder why I  am antisocial and am a member of the Voluntary Human Extinction Movement. Some of you are all right, you know who you are, but most people....


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Monday, July 18, 2011

Food, smells, and food smells

I am gonna turn into one of those crotchety crazy old people we all hated as kids, the "get off my lawn" grumps. I probably already am. I'm so set in my ways it's like concrete and it only hardens as I go on.
I am more and more intolerant of smells, for instance. Not just fish, disgusting garbage-reeking fish but anything I don't like.
There's been this lady at the pool the last 2 times I was there. She reeks. Not of body odor, or dirty hair, or cigarettes, or cheap perfume (all of which people there are guilty of). She stinks of what smells like grape bubble gum. Bubbalicious, I imagine. Cheap, nasty, unnaturally purple, sugary, foul grape gum. (See? No give there.) Last week I wasn't sure it was her. I THOUGHT it was, but she wasn't chewing. And gum isn't allowed in the pool. This morning she wasn't chewing either but it's definitely her. It is such a nasty smell. What can it be? She's an older lady, I can't see her wearing some kind of Bonne Bell grape lip gloss marketed to 13 year old girls. And even that stuff doesn't stink over the scent of chlorine from 6 feet away. And her lips aren't shiny anyway. No one in their right mind would CHOOSE to smell like that, would they?
So to distract myself from her stench, I started thinking about grapes. I love grapes. Oh, green seedless grapes, in a bowl of iced water, cold and firm and sweet, I could eat them all day. Even the wine grapes my grandma and great grandma grew (from the old country, my great grandma made her own wine and spun her own cloth)--big purple ones with green insides and fat seeds that you have to work at, removing the skins and spitting out the seeds, I like them. But I hate anything made from grapes or smelling like grapes. Grape juice. Wine. Champagne. Grape candy. Grape gum. Grape toothpaste at the dentist. Raisins. All of that, eww.
On the other hand, there are cherries. Don't care for 'em at all. But cherry brandy? Cherry cough medicine or Nyquil? Wild cherry Lifesavers? Oh, those I eat up. Make me a black forest cake dripping with cherries, and I walk away. Don't adulterate my lovely ice cream sundae by putting a nasty cherry on top.
Then there are oranges. I love oranges, tangerines, clementines. I like orange juice and orange tictacs. Orange chapstick. I like lemon and lime juice in my diet soda, and I love orange soda--the only kind of soda I drink in both diet and regular flavors. (Ah, Fanta!) Orange-scented (any citrus really) air fresheners and cleaners, yum.
Apples--I like apples (don't love 'em). But only raw, fresh crunchy apples. Not cooked apples. Not apple juice. Not apple flavor. Not apple-scented candles or apple pie or apple streusal (however it's spelled). I ate applesauce when I was little because I didn't have a choice, but I won't eat it now.
In other words, I am completely crazy and unpredictable in what foods I like versus what food smells like. And I am also immobile. Don't get confused and think because I love cherry life savers I want a black forest cake. Or bring me grape juice to drink, or an apple pie, or a bottle of wine. I'd say, when in doubt with me, go for citrus. (Not grapefruit, I just can't get past the sour. Not crazy about blood oranges either.)
(image source)
Update (7-21-2011) I saw this product today at the grocery store: grape-scented booger wipes.  Do you think that's the culprit?

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Saturday, July 09, 2011

free cat food for you and for a shelter 7/9 & 7/10 (off topic)

Petco is having an awesome promotion this weekend. No purchase necessary. There is a special display with cans of Royal Canin (expensive!) cat food labeled FREE. Take 4 to the register; you keep 2 and 2 go into the pet donation box. How awesome is that? When I told the guy I had 3 cats he gave me an extra free can for myself. (I donated it.)
The details are here on this blog.
Even if you don't have a cat, if you're near a Petco today or tomorrow, get the 4 cans and put them all in the donation box!
I give my cats Royal Canin dry food as treats.  They love it.

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Friday, June 24, 2011

thought of the day--groceries

I am inherently lazy, in spite of the fact that I exercise like a loon. If I can sit and do nothing strenuous, I will. And yeah, that's partially why I'm fat. But this post is actually about losing weight.
Because I am lazy, when I go grocery shopping, I don't want to make multiple trips between car and house carrying bags.  I'm physically strong, I guess, so I can hold all the bags.
But when I go to walk up the steps, all of a sudden, I can barely move.  I feel like I have to put some of the bags down. They seem to weigh a lot.  Every 2 liter bottle of soda (yes, diet, don't lecture me) is 4 lbs and I often buy 6 or 8 bottles (8=32 lbs) plus whatever else.
But I never buy 90 lbs of groceries.  So why can't I walk up the steps carrying 50 lbs when I used to LIVE, ALL THE TIME, 90 lbs heavier?  How did I walk?  How did I walk CARRYING GROCERIES?
(image source)

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Thursday, June 16, 2011

Endermologie for lymph edema

I was out with a friend of mine over the weekend who is a massage therapist and she told me about a new treatment called "endermologie" (yes, with an ie not a y at the end) which is mostly used for cellulite but has another application--to break up edema.  She was sure there were people in our general area that offer it, but I really only found practitioners who were 30 or more miles away.  I'll keep looking.
I was telling her about what happened when I went to the lymph edema specialists, with their all-or-nothing treatment and she was appalled.  She is a professional, clinical LMT and she agreed that there should be a treatment I can go to maybe weekly or every other week and self-massage techniques they should teach me for at home (exactly what I had expected from the place!).  That's when she told me about endermologie.  
I haven't been able to find out a lot about it--only how to buy the machine!--but here's what I've got so far:
This web site appears to be the manufacturer of the system(s). It has lots of unmeaningful technical talk:

The two independent motorized rollers (patented by LPG) gently pull the skin using three directions of rotation, depending on the desired objectives.
The various folds treat different types of tissue, including cellulite, adipose, edematous, fibrous, adherent, inflammatory, thin, fragile, and relaxed tissue.
With their micropulses, the Lift heads (patented by LPG) create a wave of tissue that delicately stimulates the skin. Depending on the frequency at which the Lift valves pulse (4, 8, or 16 pulses/second) and the chosen suction strength (adjustable intensity), the Lift heads generate different stimulations for specific beauty and therapeutic goals. These frequencies can treat different types of tissue, including fibrous, edematous, scarred, wrinkled, thin, and fragile tissue.
It reminds me a little of the machines my friend in Florida used to sell.  She used one on me and it did make a huge difference on my leg.  That machine was $1200 and I really wish I'd bought one from her.  But I would have had to go to beauty school to buy one, even to just use on myself.  
The endermologie site seems to also offer a home-care option called Wellbox.  Unfortunately the Wellbox site is in French and Euros.  It seems to say the machine costs 90 Euros. That's about $125.  I'd buy it.  Ah, no, the English site says 999 Euros.  That's $1400.  I'd ask my financial guy if I could raid my special savings, but it doesn't seem to be available in the US.  At least, the web site isn't very clear on whether it is.
A friend of mine posted recently asking for donations to help her with medical bills for a beloved pet.  I wonder if I can start one of those to buy this system?  I'll have to ask her how she did it.


Tuesday, May 24, 2011

no sympathy for eating disorders and fatties (rant)

I have a Facebook page under my real name, as well as my Rosie account. And on that page, under my real name, what should be 100% the real me, I never talk about the trials of being overweight. Of how annoying it is to be afraid of food.  I don't trumpet my weight losses.  If you didn't see photos of me on that page, you'd never know from just my posts that I'm morbidly obese.
There's a reason for that.  And not just shame (the people who see me IRL know how fat I am).  It's because no one gives a shit.  No one cares that I am fat and I struggle and I cry in the bathroom at restaurants when my food is inedible (to me).  In the real world, there is no sympathy for fat people.  No sympathy for strange eating disorders.  People I just play FB games with don't care, nor do HS friends I haven't seen in 20 years.  My other friends are tired of hearing about it--their attitude is mostly that I am being a "baby" about food and that I need to "grow up".
I can't really judge them or be too sad, because I'm guilty of this too.  When a size-10 friend is madly dieting down to a size 8, all I can think of is slapping her.  When I see bulimics on TV, I don't think "they could die" (I know they can; many bulimic people have written to me about how horrible it is), I just think, "I wish I could throw up like that."  I am grossed out by the visible bones of anorexics and baffled by their continuing view of themselves as overweight.
And that is just as wrong as people hating on me because I'm fat and have strange eating habits.  I KNOW this.  I watch shows about 600 and 800 lb people and I think, "Just stop eating so much!" but meanwhile people who weigh half what I do look at me and think the same thing.  Shit rolls downhill, or maybe it's the immense gravity we have as large people that makes it stick to us.
That's why I had to create Rosie, to have a place to talk about these things.  Sometimes I talk about her as a 3d person.  I mentioned that I had posted something on FB and my friend said "I didn't see it" and I said "I let Rosie post it."  Some days, she feels more real than I do.


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Monday, May 09, 2011

When calories don't count (humor) & food fears

I went to a party Saturday night. Before that, I went to The Avenue (everything was 40% off, what a nice surprise) and bought 3 pairs of capris and a new shirt ($41 for all 4 pieces, can't be that!). The pants...size 18/20, not size 28 or 32! And went to the Payless BOGO sale and got jeweled sandals and a new pair of pink-lensed sunglasses. The plan was to be all sexy at the party. Haha. Or at least view myself as sexy through my rose-colored glasses.

I'm not usually much of a drinker. Not for calorie reasons; it's just that I'm usually the designated driver. I wasn't on Saturday. I consumed, well, quite a bit. Let's just say that my friend and I split a whole small bottle of chocolate whipped cream vodka and then half of a big bottle of the same. And a whole can of vodka-infused chocolate whipped cream. I don't know if I want to kiss or kick the person who invented chocolate whipped cream vodka. It's really, really good.  I never had vodka before.  Then again, I don't think there was ever chocolate whipped cream vodka before.  (The whipped cream with vodka in it--don't bother. It's not worth the money.)
Around the time we cracked the second bottle, the question of calories came up.  And this is what the group decided.  Vodka is made from potatoes. Potatoes are a vegetable.  So vodka counts as a veggie. And veggies are unlimited on most diets because they are so low on calories.  So, therefore, vodka has no calories.
We ate birthday cake.  Birthday cake doesn't count if it's really someone's birthday.  And it was TWO people's birthdays.  So the cake had negative calories.
The chocolates didn't count for several reasons.  1) they were wrapped individually in foil. It uses calories to unwrap them.  2)  they had fortunes inside. I'm not sure how that negates calories, but it makes perfect sense when you've consumed half a bottle of vodka.  3) chocolate is made from cacao beans.  Beans are veggies.  See Vodka, above.
I ate half a bag of green grapes.  Those are healthy.  And they are all water.  Water has no calories.  Therefore, grapes have no calories.  Because I have to chew them, they have negative calories.
The negative calories of the grapes and the birthday cake balanced out the hot dog and potato chips. 
The salsa was homemade and healthy (I made it myself!) and it took work for me to make it so that balanced out the chips I put it on. And they were baked tortilla chips, not fried.
So really, I think I came out ahead, calorie-wise!
On a another note, I did indeed make the salsa from scratch--tomatoes, jalapenos, serranos,  limes, onions, and cilantro.  I used a fun little bowl with chili peppers on it that someone gave me as a gift.  It was beautiful salsa with a nice kick.  And I was afraid to eat it.  My husband yelled at me. How could I be afraid of food that I made myself from scratch out of ingredients I already eat?!  I just stood paralyzed in my kitchen staring at the bowl with the spoon sticking out of it.  Couldn't do it.  Fucking stupid ass eating disorder.  Eventually I did eat it (after some vodka quelled my fears) but it really pissed me off.


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Friday, May 06, 2011

Photos of Rosie (2 years apart)

I think these are the same pants. Obviously a different shirt. I don't know my exact weight in the 2008 pic but since May 2009 I've lost almost 100 lbs.

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I'm tired of trying to lose weight...

I'm tired of trying to lose weight. I've been trying to lose weight my whole life. I've wanted to lose weight. I've wished to lose weight.
It's a bunch of bullshit.
From now on, I'm not trying, wishing, wanting, hoping.  I'm doing.  

When I was in elementary school, a teacher gave us a short and sweet lesson on trying that I've been thinking a lot about lately.  He told everyone to stand up. Then he told us to try to sit down.  We all sat down.  He made us get up again. "I told you to try to sit, not to sit."  We all hovered halfway down over our chairs, completely confused.  None of us knew how to try to sit.  We only knew how to sit.
Trying, wishing, wanting, hoping--they are all completely and utterly futile.  It's putting energy into the wrong direction. It's waiting for the bus to come to your house when the stop is at the corner.  If you have to get on the bus, you need to go to where the bus is (or will be).
Everything I've been doing is wrong.  It's just creating angst and stress.  It's micromanaging.  There is another way.  Nike commercials have been telling us for years.
Just do it.

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Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Updates--Tai Chi, Lymph Edema, Habba Syndrome

I don't have anything in particular to write about so I thought I'd just give some updates.
I'm a month or so into my Tai Chi lessons. I like it a lot and so does my husband and it's fun to do together. And it gets him to move and he's actually trying to lose weight which is good.  What I don't like about it is the all-or-nothing aspect of some of the postures.  We learned one where you have to sink onto your left foot and have your right foot have no weight on it (so you could kick, if the move was during a fight). I can't.  My left leg can't hold all my weight when it's bent.  My knee is shot, it's swollen with edema, etc.  Not happening. But a lady was helping me with that posture and kept saying "you need to sink more on your left leg" and I'm like, "that is not gonna happen, I physically can't do that."  That part is frustrating.  I bought a video from my teacher that shows all the postures from all directions so that helps me with form, but not with the form that I can't do.  I'm soldiering on; I'm not quitting with 5 months of lessons still to go.
As far as my lymph edema goes, it's still there.  I've compromised.  I wrap both ankles with Comprilan bandages.  They look just like Ace bandages but they stretch differently and feel totally different. I can wrap them as tight as I want but it doesn't cut off circulation to my feet.  Every morning when I get home from the pool I wrap my ankles and they stay that way until I'm ready for shower/bedtime at night.  The problem is (and this leads back into my Tai Chi issues) is that I have to sacrifice ankle flexibility to get less swelling.  If I don't wrap them, I can really feel the difference after a few hours of sitting at my desk writing or a shopping trip.
The last thing is my Habba Syndrome.  It's been so much better ever since I got diagnosed.  I think that the massive clean-out I had to do to get the colonoscopy actually helped--maybe something was stuck in there? I don't know.  I'm also eating differently since the same basic time frame (I went to the butt doctor right before I went to get my Gastric Mind Band).  I think a little of both--eating different/less and being scrubbed internally.
Right now I'm doing a massive writing project.  (Not about being fat.  It's under my real name, and I'm not sure I want to sacrifice my anonymity on this blog to tell you all when it comes out.)  That's taking up most of my free time (along with a small remodeling project) which is why I've been so quiet.
I appreciate all of you who have friended me on Facebook.  Don't be shy, I like making new friends. Especially if you play Petville or Fishville!  But it's okay if you don't play, I'll still be your friend.
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Thursday, April 07, 2011

CASTING FOR LIFE CHANGING SHOW ON A&E

I received this email.  I don't qualify; maybe you do or know someone who does.


CASTING FOR LIFE CHANGING SHOW ON A&E
IS YOUR BRAIN OR BODY BETRAYING YOU? HAVE YOU TRIED ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING TO CURE YOURSELF?
From Executive Producer Ryan Seacrest and World-Renowned Doctor Paul McKenna comes a new documentary-style televisions series that will help you work through your disorder. This is an exciting, innovative new show that can give you the hope of changing your life forever!
McKenna’s unique approach to personal transformation has already cured millions of people including Ellen Degeneres, Russell Brand, plus top CEOs and Royalty.
WE ARE CURRENTLY CASTING INDIVIDUALS WHO ARE SUFFERING FROM PHYSICAL OR MENTAL DISORDERS THAT AFFECT THEIR DAILY LIVES.  We’re casting even the most severe cases where the disorder has devastated the individual or the family.
SOME POSSIBLE DISORDERS WE ARE LOOKING FOR INCLUDE (but are not limited to):
 - Motor Tics
 - Vocal Tics
 - Tourette’s Syndrom
 - Pseudo-Seizures
 - Pseudo-Paralysis
 - PTSD
 - Pro Athlete Psychout
 - Stuttering
If this sounds like you or someone you know, email the following info to castingthefixer@gmail.com (for priority please write your disorder in the subject line):
 - Name
 - Age
 - Phone Number
 - Email Address
 - Your current city, state
 - Recent photos
 - What you’re ailment is and why you need Phil McKenna’s help. please be as descriptive and detailed as possible.
Please include how your life would change if you were not suffering with this ailment!
We appreciate your time and look forward to meeting some amazing individuals! No problem is too small or too big so please don’t hesitate to reach out. We want to help you!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b6bxJiVtbG8


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Wednesday, April 06, 2011

I'm done with exercise for the year!

According to Sparkpeople, at some point during my workout today (April 6), I reached my yearly fitness minutes goal for 2011. I've surpassed it, in fact.


I guess I'm done. I'll go take a nap until January.
NOT!
I've said it more than once, this goal is ridiculously low.  It's 7.5 minutes per day.  For weight loss?  Really?  I don't think so.  I wish I had paid attention to how many total minutes I did last year.  Probably 10,000 or more. 

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Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Some workout stats

This is for the haters who say I'm lazy.

From my SparkPeople account (WLRosie, if you wish to friend me).  I've done 180 minutes of exercise this week (it's Wednesday, for those reading in the future) and out of the yearly goal of 2880 minutes, I've already done 2611 minutes (it's the end of March). By next week I should be at that goal.  I guess I can quit working out until January 2012 right?  Ha ha.


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half marathon! I rock!

I did it. Yesterday I ran for 133 minutes straight in the pool at approximately 6 miles per hour (probably more, I rounded down a lot), just over 13 miles, or a half marathon (13.1 miles/~21K is the official distance on land).
It was tiring. And a bit painful. And mostly BORING. I might do it again, maybe once a month, but it just took so damn LONG. And since I do it by time (because my underwater pedometer doesn't work underwater), I can't speed up. Right at the end, about 5 minutes from the finish, the lifeguard TOOK DOWN THE CLOCK and started washing it. I wanted to scream. I tried to guess the length of the songs and that's how I ended up 3 minutes over.

I did take 2 blue gel Advil about 20 minutes before I left for the pool. When I got home I sprawled in the bed in a daze for a couple of hours, with one of the cats under the covers hugging my leg.
Last night about 10:30 I couldn't get comfortable while reading in bed. My left hip hurt in a weird burning way. I looked at it. Huge bruise, about 4 inches long, exactly where the elastic to my bathing suit is. My other side is fine.(There are no parts showing in the pic that shouldn't be.)
The best part?  Got up this morning and I'd lost a pound.  That's 92 if you're keeping track.
I also felt really good.  Confident.  Proud of myself.  My FB friends raved and put likes all over my posts.  My husband?  Meh.  My mom?  "Why'd you do that to yourself?" (She who walks 10 miles a day.)  It's hard when only the Internet cares about your accomplishments. (No, I'm not begging for compliments, although they are nice, just stating facts.)
Today I feel like I could do anything.  I ran a half marathon at 272 lbs.  In 15 lbs I'll be halfway to my goal weight.
The only thing I know I can't do is a triathlon.  They did one on Heavy on Monday.  I can't swim with proper strokes.  That trauma is another whole story; maybe I'll tell it someday.

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Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Reality of wrapping


I'm only wrapped to the knee on 1 leg and I hate it. I can't imagine adding in padding and wrapping toes to hips. No way.
-- My Palm Pre Plus is so awesome my typos are irrelevant. 

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

haters gotta hate

One of faithful, hate-filled readers has decided to chime in, ever-so-charmingly, on my blog.
Let's break it down, shall we? For people who claim to read my blog, they get a lot wrong.
(Spelling, etc, is from original.  And I love that the hater graphic is also badly spelled.)

what is wrong with you people, just cause your too fat to see your own privates,1 its just a little kid. BTW, two year olds can be potty trained and don't necessarily need diapers. Did you ask how old the child was?2 Or have you worked as a carnie guessing peoples age.3
Me and a friend of mine read this blog whenever we are feeling bad about ourselves or have setbacks in our own life (to feel better) because of how friggin depressing you are, how negative you are,4 how fast you jump onto fads "tai chi"5 your fat, run for christ sakes 6  and dont accidentally order chicken fingers. how did your "mind banding" work - you may be the biggest sucker ever. Pun intentional.

1. I'm no longer too fat to see my own privates. Which is why I felt inspired to write about it a few weeks ago.
2. I can tell the difference between a baby and a 2 year old. And also between being totally naked and wearing a bathing suit.
3. I don't need to have been a carnie. I do know some carnies and they are nice people, BTW, so I guess I should be flattered that you compared me to them.
4. I'm so glad that you and your buddies are uplifted by my blog and find me amusing. I get that a lot and it always makes me happy to hear I put a smile on someone's face.
5. I wasn't aware that Tai Chi was a fad. I thought it was pretty ancient. But you're the knowledgable one so I'll have to bow to your expertise. I'm sure my teacher, who's been doing Tai Chi for over 40 years, would be interested to hear about how he's wasting his life with a fad.
6. I run 5-8 miles almost every day, last week I ran 10 miles one morning. Sorry you missed it.

That, ladies and gentleman, sums up exactly what it is like to be overweight--that ignorant, hate-filled missive.  
Thanks, guys, for putting your vitriol on display for all to see and appreciate! 

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Tuesday, March 15, 2011

lymph edema overview

Some people have been asking me about lymph edema (sometimes spelled as one word, lymphedema).  I'm not a doctor so this might not be 100% strictly correct, but it's my understanding of it.
It is a back-up of lymph fluid in one or more extremity. It can happen if you are very fat and sedentary. It can happen from an injury (how I got mine) that breaks or damages the lymph nodes. Or it can happen from surgery that removes the lymph nodes (like for breast cancer). Basically lymph is a clear fluid that is excreted by the cells, it's cellular poop. Some of it is recycled as water, the waste is filtered out by the kidneys (and I think the liver) and it goes away as part of our regular waste. Lymph is not a bad thing in itself, it's part of how the body works.
There is not any true pump for lymph (the way blood has the heart). It is moved along by our muscles. Most people exercise enough to keep from getting swollen in any of their extremities. But if the lymph nodes (in your groin and armpits) get damaged or removed, it messes up that flow. Or if you are so obese your very weight is crushing you and you don't move, the flow is impeded.
And the fluid drains into whatever arm or leg is affected, and it doesn't come back up. Every day your body makes more fluid so the extremity gets more and more swollen.
The condition is permanent and chronic and not curable.
However, it is manageable.  I was under the impression that I'd been doing a good job managing mine.  I've had it since June 2002 (almost 9 years) and it's somewhere between stage 1 and 2.  (Stage 3 is elephantiasis and cannot be treated or reversed.) I exercise and get it smaller, I keep my legs up, and I try to fidget if I'm forced to stand in place for a long time.
But last week's visit to the lymphedema treatment place really brought my spirits down.  I hate the idea of wearing giant elastic socks  from toes to hips 23 hours a day for the rest of my life.  I've given up so much already to lymph edema--ankle socks, high top sneakers, sexy boots, pretty shoes, high heels, low heels.  I can't give up sandals and shorts and capris and knee-length dresses and bare legs too.  How would I go to tropical beaches, on cruises, dressed like that?  I could cry.  I did cry.
They also told me I can't go outside if it's more than 94 degrees.  That any exercise except in the water is verboten. No more walks, no hiking, nothing...unless I undergo their therapy and wear the evil compression garments.
So I've been trying to at least wrap my ankles when I'm doing Tai-Chi or going shopping or walking about. I hate it.  The idea of doing this in a month or so when I want to be in capris is disgusting. 
My therapist says I should beg or borrow the money for the treatment.  But if I know in my heart that I won't be compliant with the after-treatment, why spend the money and the pain and humiliation of the 2 weeks with daily compression in foam and all that if I'm not going to live in the damn stockings forever afterward?  I'll accept ankle wraps; they make me look athletic. 
I feel really discouraged.  I've lost so much weight and my leg is really much better.  It doesn't get hot anymore or change color.  It still looks a little like a potato but not as bad as it used to.  I had been feeling encouraged about my progress (in general, weight loss, food, edema, etc) and now I feel horrid again.
(image source)

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Body dysphoria and proprioception

Last night was my second Tai-Chi class. I wrapped my legs in Ace bandages like a good girl who cares about her lymph edema. And again, I was like a turtle turned on its back. I enjoy the movements, I feel good doing them, but I am not doing them correctly and that bothers the hell out of me. I am very into having perfect form when I exercise.
Last week, I just couldn't "get" the 2 poses he taught us--push hands and push left? Something like that. Good thing my husband was with me, and he's done Tai-Chi before. When we went home he spent an hour going over those moves with me and getting me to about 80% correct. Meaning I do the right movements with legs and arms in the right order but they aren't exactly like they should be. My hand is pointed in the right direction, but it's at the wrong level, for instance.
Most frustrating is the fact that my feet, my goddamn lymph edema fat stupid feet, aren't ever where they should be or pointing in the right direction.
Part of the problem is that I can't SEE my feet. If I bend over to see them, I'm losing the posture I need to be in. My boobs are still giant, even though they're doing a couple of cup sizes. If my feet aren't pointed right, I can't lean in the right direction to complete the pose. My husband made a terrible and mean comment that there's all the Tai-Chi poses and then there's adipose (fat tissue) and that's me. The adi-pose.
I know exactly what's wrong. Well, there are 2 things.  I'm sure there is some relationship between them, but I don't know how it works.   My proprioception is off.  That's the sense that you know what your body is doing when you aren't looking.  Like closing your eyes and being able to touch your nose.  I can do that. but little things stymie me. I had a horrible time learning to touch type, for instance. It was the first and only time in my life that I ever got a "you're failing" notice halfway through the term. I finally started wearing rings on every other finger, then I could tell which fingers I was moving and was able to learn to type properly.
I also have body dysphoria (also seen in anorexic people and those with gender identity issues).  My body doesn't look like what I see in my head.  In a reversal of anorexic dysphoria, I think I am smaller and skinnier than I am.  I can't feel my fat, if that makes any sense. I feel only the parts of my body that are muscle.  So the hanging flaps on my arms? I can't sense them. I feel the weight of them, as if you hung a sling from my upper arm with some jello in it.  If I leaned across a table that was freshly painted, I wouldn't know if they were dragging in the paint.  So I bump into things a lot; I take up more space than I think.  I'm lucky I've never gotten stuck between two cars in a parking lot or in a too-small restaurant booth!  I don't know if not knowing what size I am makes me not know what my body is doing when I'm not looking, or if not being able to feel myself in space means I don't know how big I am.  If that makes any sense?
I want to do Tai-Chi.  I paid for a month so I have 3 more classes.  I don't want to quit.  But if I suck, why keep spending the money? Then again, my husband enjoys it, and he'll quit if I do, and he really needs the exercise.
(image source)

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37 Posture Tai chi Form

This is my new Tai-Chi teacher doing the form I'm learning. I watch this over and over trying to get it right but I feel like a failure.



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Friday, March 11, 2011

So much for lymph edema treatment...

My visit to the lymph edema clinic was today. I felt pretty excited. I had all my x-rays and MRIs and various reports on my leg, lists of medicines, everything I needed. When I got there, they had a coffee machine and actually offered k-cups with hot chocolate! I had a nice positive feeling. (Although the hot chocolate, alas, was very coffee-flavored.) Everyone's so coffee-coffee-coffee and maybe some herbal tea. No one ever has nice plain black tea or hot cocoa! (I'm the only person in New England, I think, that doesn't require an IV of coffee to function.)
During the interview, the therapist thought that everything I was doing for my leg was positive and correct--the pool especially--(Except for the Tai Chi.)--that I keep my leg up, that if I have to stand I sway or shuffle my feet, if I sit I jiggle them. I continued to feel very optimistic.
I knew they were big on wrapping lymph edema limbs but I was hoping that I could avoid that part. I wanted to come in once in a while for some lymph drainage massage (she assured me the way they do it there doesn't feel like an Indian rope burn), and get some exercises I could do at home. After all I have all this great equipment: Bowflex, stair machine, bands, balls, hand weights, etc. and if I had to, I'd pay the extra $10 a month to also use the gym where I go to the pool.  I mean, it's a physical therapy place that concentrates on lymph edema, and physical therapy is about exercise right?  And I am a person who actually LIKES exercise.
But it was not to be, and in the end the visit was for naught, basically a waste of my time.

Here is their plan.  For 2 weeks, I'd have to go there DAILY and have my leg wrapped in foam and then in Comprilan bandages. These have to stay on 23 hours a day.  The foam is between the toes, around the whole leg from toes to hip.  There is no bending of the knee.  The cost for this is $40 per session co-pay.  ($560).  No pool.  No exercise.  I am unsure of showering.  I guess I'd have to take them off, shower quickly and drive there to get them put back on.  How I'm supposed to drive home when wrapped like a mummy, I don't know.  I don't know what kind of shoes would fit over the wrappings either. If I have a job, how I'm supposed to take 2 hours a day (plus travel time & shower time) to get my leg wrapped for two week, I also don't know.  But without a job, I can't pay, so the question is moot.
This is on both legs, of course.
At the end of the 2 weeks, when I have gained about 20 lbs from being in bed all day every day since I can't walk or do anything without knees or shoes, they measure me for compression stockings.  Insurance probably doesn't pay.  Up to $200 per leg.  New ones every 6 months.  Must wear them day in and day out except for an hour a day in the pool and to take a shower.  Forever.  Never allowed to have bare legs again.  And if you know me IRL, you know that from May-October I wear capris or knee-length shorts.   Also never do any exercise on land--everything in my house, in a gym, my tai-chi, etc.
If I don't do this treatment, my left leg (bad one) will continue to get worse.  The small swelling in my right leg will spread upward until it matches my left.  Eventually I will be cripple.
Even if someone magically handed me the money, the promise I made to my husband was that the next time we had extra money he could get his teeth fixed.  He had to have 2 pulled and he looks like a redneck now and we both hate it.  The co-pay on getting them repaired is about $600.  His bonus and raise were shitty this year and so was our tax return (because the temp job I had last year didn't take out taxes or anything)--we got 1/3 of our usual tax return and he got about half last year's bonus and raise (damn the economy).
The options I have are: beg for about $1200 from my mom, who probably doesn't have it either.  Try to get it from my retirement fund, but I'd have to pay it back and how would I do that.  Or charge it, just when we got out of the credit card hell we'd been in for so long.
Or I can try to just get the stockings, skip the massage and foam bandages, give up shorts and land exercise, and hope for the best.
Really all those options suck. I'm seriously thinking about putting a PayPal "donate" button on my sidebar.  But assholes will donate 1 penny which makes me actually have to pay to receive it.
(image source)


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Tuesday, March 08, 2011

incomprehensible whinging about two-part thoughts

I like the English word "whinge" better than the American word "whine".
I'm going to whinge. Just a bit. I'm allowed to once in a while, right? It's my blog and I can whinge if I want to...

My mind is making me crazy.  It's almost like I'm schizophrenic.  I have a menu in front of me.  I think, "I should get the grilled chicken. It's good here.  And it's a healthy choice, with a baked potato.  Better than the fried chicken fingers with french fries."  So that programming, the "healthy choice" programming, must be working, right?
And then server comes over and I say "I'll have the chicken fingers with fries please."
WTF?  How did that happen?  I am LOOKING at the grilled chicken entree.  My INTENT is the grilled chicken.  And then, boom, fried chicken.
So then I look at the plate of fried chicken fingers and french fries, and I portion it out into uneven halves with the intent to eat only the small half and take the rest home. I am partially done with the small half (maybe a third of the plate, if that) and my mind says, "Actually, I'm plenty full. I can stop here. I am very satisfied."  And I am, I am totally done eating.  I'm not stuffed, but comfortable.   And what do I do? I finish out the half.  And then maybe split a dessert with my friend.  Even though I KNOW I was already finished.
I am really, really confused why this is happening.  It's like I have two halves and they aren't communicating at all.  Or like I'm playing a bizarre game of Telephone where "grilled chicken with a baked potato" sounds exactly like "chicken fingers with french fries" when it gets to the other end.
This isn't the only place this is happening.  Exercise too is affected, although not as badly.  If I can get myself into the pool, I stay at least an hour.  But some days I'm in bed, it's 6:15 a.m. and I just turn off the alarm and go back to sleep. 
I sit at my desk writing and look at my Bowflex--it's literally 2 feet away, right in front of me--and think, "Strength training would build more muscle and make me look thinner, feel better, and burn more calories.  And I really like using my Bowflex."  But do I get my fat ass out of the chair and onto the machine?  No.
It's this really bizarre form of self-sabotage and I don't understand why it's happening.  I would feel better about myself if I just give up consciously, and say "I'm not going to watch what I eat, I'm not going to work out, fuck it, I don't care."  But I DON'T feel like that, I don't WANT to eat like a pig, and I love the pool and my Bowflex.  
My Gastric Mind Band therapist contacted me today and some of this came out in my return email to her, but I felt like I needed to get it out there and try to figure out, basically WTF.   I'm so frustrated.
(image source)

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Saturday, March 05, 2011

FEED the movie

I just finished watching the movie Feed (available from Blockbuster at home, see link).  It is about force feeding women on camera.  Or maybe they want to be force fed.  And it's also about involuntary cannibalism.  And murder.  And psychos from both America and Australia. 
It's a pretty badly made movie, almost incomprehensible in plot, and it contradicts itself.
I especially am disgusted by the portrayal of the main fat woman, Deirdre (played by a thin woman in an obvious fat suit), and how she acts like a stupid, spoiled child.  It doesn't matter if you are 600 lbs, that doesn't make you into an idiot.
I'm not sure if it is a snuff film.  Or porn.  Or both.   But it's a pretty badly done movie either way.
I was also hoping for some insight into the culture of feeding. I didn't get it.

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Thursday, March 03, 2011

music to run to (or from...)

You may remember that back in October I was all excited about the purchase of a new underwater MP3 player to replace my third, beloved H2O man. Since my H2O man (men?) had all worked so fabulously (and were sadly discontinued) of course I got the next best thing from the same company, the H20 Man Extreme (or Duo, I'm not sure what the difference is honestly, I own both now).  You will notice the lack of links to purchase this Extreme/Duo.
I am sad to say that it is a piece of junk.  The first one I got was the H2O Man Extreme, it charged the first time, but never again.  They sent me a new player, charger and headphones.  Same thing.  They asked me to send it back that time, I did, got a new one (a whole new package, a Duo), same thing.  (Now we're up to 3 in 3 months.)  I gave up, bought a different brand (more on that in a moment) and when Intova followed up about player #3 and I said it was the same thing, and that I figured out what was happening, that it was absolutely a design flaw, they said they'd sent me ANOTHER one.  #4 is en route.  Sigh. 

Basically the player is too damn complex (see photo). You have to swap out parts to charge it, parts for the pool, parts for land, and other parts to change the music.  All these parts go together via a pair of rings.  The rings should be threaded with a rubber gasket like the outer capsule of the old version, but they aren't.  They kinda pop together.  After a few times of undoing and redoing them, they stop sealing. If they aren't sealing, it won't charge.  Or play.
I went back to Amazon and did a lot of research trying to find a different player that was under $100 (since I paid $89 for the POS Duo/Extreme) and that had good ratings.  I found the Fitness Technologies G2.  It is about the size of a dental floss package (the picture is close to life size).  The headphone wires are short, but it's so tiny that I just clip it to my hair clip (it's designed to be hung on the back of swim goggles).  Unlike the Duo/Extreme, the same cord charges it and allows you to swap out music.  There is only ONE simple connector, it is a screw-type and gasketed (the headphones screw in, and the charger cord screws into the same port).  The sound is fine.  My only complaints is that the first couple of seconds of songs get cut off sometimes, and that the controls aren't easy to use without being able to see them.  I can live with that.  Besides what's in the picture, the G2 came with a headphone cord extender (for land only), foam earphone tips (3 sizes) for land, and an arm strap (which doesn't fit my fat arm, of course).  Simple, simple, simple.
Here is my current playlist:
  • Muse "Uprising"
  • Nickelback "Burn it to the Ground"
  • Gravity Kills "Personal Jesus" "Crashing" "Disintegrate" "Guilty"
  • Combichrist "Shut up and Bleed"
  • Rammstein "Du Hast"  "Blade Theme"
  • Static X "Bled for Days" "Push It"  "Tainted Love"
  • Nine Inch Nails "Into the Void"
  • Cagiche track 8  (it's in Polish, my friend gave it to me)
I'm running a 10K every time I go into the pool (6-7 miles, ~1100 calories) and I just hit 99 miles for this year.  Which is pretty sucky, actually.  I hardly went to the pool in January because of my sprained (broken) ankle, and in February because I had that growth cut off my finger that got infected and then I split it open right after the stitches came out.
Next week I'm going to that lympedema clinic and they don't want me to work out, they want my leg to be bad.  I'm going on Friday, I'm going to work out Monday and Tuesday only.  I need the calorie burn as well as the lymph pumping.


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Monday, February 28, 2011

a weekend away...(a bit off topic)

My weekend away was not all I hoped for but it didn't suck either.
The heated indoor pool did indeed exist; however even though it is in a hotel, it is a PUBLIC pool. It was full of screaming children--and I mean full, there was no place I could have stood and worked out--when we got there. During the week it opens at 7 a.m. but on weekends not until 9 a.m. The hotel manager said I could not go at 7 a.m. on Sat. or Sun. because I would make too much noise and people were sleeping.
Except that, in the same atrium, at 7:30 a.m., a contest started for the convention that involved a loudspeaker. The small splashes I make aren't audible from 10 feet away and are not louder than someone screaming into a mic. Go figure.
I did go to the pool at 9 a.m. on Saturday with the intent of running 10 miles (usually I don't have the luxury of 100 minutes straight in the local pool before the classes start) but I only got 75 minutes in (7.5 miles) before the children were flooding the pool. Including a 2 year old with no diaper and a baby who was NAKED. NAKED in the pool, no doubt spewing feces and urine--that was the last straw, when I saw the guy carrying the naked infant I was outta there, I was so grossed out. Sunday it snowed and my husband just wanted to leave so I had no time to go.
I never found the gym but it was open to the public too so I'm sure more of the same, kids probably using the equipment as jungle gyms.
But I'll say this, although it sounds horrible: I was no where near the fattest person there. I think it's a girl thing, to look around at other women and see who is fatter. In fact I think I was among the skinnier. I saw one girl smaller than me (she was really skinny) and everyone else was much larger.
In fact a gaming convention is pretty much a convention of fatties, honestly. Papa Gino's delivery guys were bringing in STACKS of pizzas--multiple guys per delivery, empty pizza boxes everywhere. (I love Papa Gino's and there isn't one within an hour's drive of home, so I did eat there, once--but I ate in the restaurant, not from a greasy box.)
My hope had been to work out a lot, work on my book, and maybe see my friend who lives in Boston.  However she had the flu and some very bad news, that her son's brain tumor is aggressively growing and not responding to treatment and he's probably going to be gone in the next few weeks.  He's a sweet, wonderful guy (around 30) and it is going to destroy her to lose him.  She's had a pretty horrible life and I hate it that more pain is coming her way.
I got in 1 swim workout, 0 gym workouts and only a phone visit with my buddy.  I worked on my book for about 2 hours.  But I did have some quality time with my husband, we were in 2 role-playing games together and we also bought a couple of new games and played them in the hotel room.  I even won a prize at the second game for best roleplaying!  (I traded the prize ticket for a book I'd been eyeing.)  Some friends were there, we had dinner with them on Friday and hung out with them a bit on Saturday too.
Although it wasn't what I expected, I did have more fun than not, and plans are to go back there next year, stay for the whole thing, and sign up earlier so we can be in more events.  I should be skinny as a rail by then (well, I can hope...) and maybe even be the skinniest female there!  Who knows, it can happen.


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Monday, February 21, 2011

a rosy update

As of yesterday, I'm off one of the prescriptions I've been on for 2 years.  I really feel like it was interfering with my weight loss.  If I go off it for a few days, I lose weight even if I don't work out. When I'm on it and work out like a fiend I lose nothing.   Two of my doctors agree that after losing almost 100 lbs, I probably don't need it anymore.  So I'm going to have to get blood work again for a while and make sure I'm okay without.  And even if I'm not, I'm going to have until June to be off it.  If I lose more than 20 lbs during that time, then I'm going to push to stay off it.   I think a large volume of weight loss is more beneficial than what the drug does.
I'm not sure how long it will take for all of it to completely work itself out of my body, how quick I metabolize it.  I don't really know what that's called to look it up.  Like, everyone knows the active ingredient in marijuana is in your blood for 30 days, even if you were only high once for a couple of hours. The only drugs I can find that kind of info on are illegal ones or ones that get abused.  I know that blood thinners are also 30 days because that is one of the things that led to my dad's brain damage and eventual death. I guess I could email the doctor but that's way too easy isn't it?
Although the longest I've been OFF the drug has been a week or so and I've lost weight.  Probably the metabolic thing is only a couple of days, so maybe I'm already free?
On a side note, my husband is a gamer (Dungeons and Dragons, World of Warcraft, etc) and he's dragging me to a gaming convention in Massachusetts this weekend.  I'm going to be in 1 game with him each night and have the rest of the day free while he's with some other friends who will be there.  The hotel has a heated indoor pool (of course) and a nice-looking gym so I'm looking forward to getting in some good workouts.


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600 lb Mom (tv show)

I DVRd "600 Lb Mom" last night. I've had it on my calendar for a long time. I hope it's a happy story, unlike "Half Ton Mom" (she had WLS, then died anyway, and she was young, I think 29).
This mom is named Dominique Lanoise (that's how the captions spell it).   Apparently she sits around in bed completely naked.  She has boobs that make me look flat.  I can't stand to be sitting up and braless and having them flop around like two dead whales hanging from my chest--I always wear a sports or leisure bra if I'm upright for that reason.  I can't tell if she has wicked bad lymphedema in her legs or if it's all just fat.  Probably some of both.  And her upper arms, again, she makes my giant bingo wings look like finch wings.
She has 6 kids (none of them obese).  She's the same height as me and about the same age.  Those poor kids have to wash their mom in bed, between all the horrible folds--and I know, because although I was never close to her in weight, I had some folds going.  The kids miss school and are up all night caring for her because Dominique can't breathe due to the weight on her neck and chest.
Supposedly she ate 4,000 calories a day to get there.  That's a lot, yeah, more than twice as much as a lady should eat, but I don't know how long it took to get there.  She says she's 600-700 lbs, doesn't really know, but she says it's not what she eats, that she has a "gland growing" (whatever that means).  Her daughters find a hospital to care for her, but Dominique's quest is for liposuction ("a tube" to "suck out" her fat, she says).
The hospital sends 3 ambulances with 6 crew and a giant gurney for her, but it doesn't fit in the house, and so there's the humiliation of being dragged outside on a frigging tarp, except that she doesn't even fit in her own hallway--neighbors staring to see how big this hidden woman is. All this for a simple WEIGH-IN to see if she's over or under 500 lbs.  Under 500, she can get what the show says is "aggressive weight loss surgery."
(As an aside, I can't tell if she has a pierced lower lip or she has a weird and horrible wart on her chin, but it's very distracting.  There's another thing on her nose that could be a growth/zit or another stud and on the area between her nose and upper lip.)
Of course, she is over 500 and she has to go onto a diet to lose the extra weight, and she says that she can't do it, and basically gives up.   A home-visiting bariatric doctor visits her and she gives up a food diary saying she eats once a day, soup and crackers and lemon juice.  Except that they SHOW her eating fried seafood and talking about how great seafood tastes, with piles of what looks like some kind of "dirty rice".  (The show  ignores the dicotomy.) The doctor says she will be on 750 calories a day, delivered pre-cooked to the house--a new bed that will weigh her is part of the program.
Tests show she has pulmonary edema and her BMI is 101. I feel fat at less than HALF that BMI.
When the diet food comes, she refuses to eat it. One meal looks like soup, steamed veggies, and a quiche or omelet.  She squeezes the omelet and complains that "water" is coming out of it. "It's not grease, it's water, I can't eat it." So she only eats food that is dripping with grease?  And she says "I don't know where this food come from."  (The service the doctor set up, maybe?)  On top of that, she takes 5 prescription diet pills per day rather than 2.  She doesn't want to do the upper body exercises he shows her either.
She lies to the doctor about what she eats, and she ends up gaining weight on her diet (even after she throws out her daughters for not giving her non-diet food).
Wow.  Totally NOT inspiring.  Except as a form of "don't do that."

(image source)


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