Celebrating the Small Stuff

Even the smallest of successes are victories. Never forget this. They can be as small as an ant and still have the power to carry you through a valley of self doubt which we all encounter from time to time.

In celebration of these minute miracles, I have two to share with y'all from yesterday.

First - walking. We went to Wednesday night services at church last night so that Daniel could start back to choir which he missed over these last weeks. For those of you unfamiliar with the church we attend, we go to a very large church whose campus sprawls across 11 blocks of downtown Jacksonville. We went to dinner first in the dining room, which was delicious as always - I had baked Tilapia, Roasted potatoes with onions and peppers, cheese grits and broccoli. My guys had the fried catfish and similar sides.

We used to eat there on Wednesdays while I was ill and it would take everything I had to get from the parking garage to the dining room, where I would sit and let hubby go through the line and get my dinner, after which he'd have to go through the line a second time for his own.After eating, as he would take Daniel to choir, I would slowly work my way over to the service, which was in the auditorium just a few hundred feet away. I'd then wait after the service outside in front of the building for him to go get Daniel and then the van and drive to where I was to pick me up.

Last night, we walked from the parking garage, through the buffet line and to dinner, no problem. Afterward, Daniel and I went to the service in the main sanctuary, which is an entire building away from where the service is normally held (they are remodeling the other auditorium). After the service, I walked back to the car. All of this without a walker, all under my own power.

As bad as my knees hurt last night, I couldn't have been happier with myself and felt quite accomplished. It made me feel even better about the fact that I kicked my Physical Therapist to the curb this week. I really felt like he wasn't doing me any good - he'd come to the house for 10-15 minutes twice a week, watch me do the exercises he told me to do, tell me I was progressing well and to keep it up and leave.He told me that I needed to work on my endurance and I think I tested it well last night.

My other victory was my snacking. I wanted to eliminate my after dinner snacking again, which I had gotten back into the habit of doing over the last few weeks. I had already gotten the snack down to a cup of soup - one of those k cups that have only 60 calories, but last night, despite eating dinner at 4:30 at church, I had no snacks before bed. Go me!

Bring on the weigh in tomorrow!

Picking My Poison

Right now, I am easing back into the eating routine that I had while in the hospital - no mindless snacking and proportioned meals. Granted, I slept a ton more in hospital, for both healing and to combat boredom, but I am sure I will strike a balance over time.

One thing I eliminated, or am eliminating, is processed sugar. I don't plan on going totally sugar free right out of the gate, but it may come to that. Last week, I noticed that my ankles, calves and feet were starting to swell more again. At first I contributed it to the ridiculously warm weather we were having, along with skipping a few of my water pills.

Then my knees began to kill me, along with my elbows. Elbows? I thought about it for a while and thought about all of the information I had read about sugar. Sugar is the largest inflammatory food there is. I wondered if all of the sweets I had indulged in over the holidays was causing the swelling, joint pain, not to mention the lethargy I was suffering from.

So, no more candy, cookies, et cetera et cetera. Within 24 hours, my energy perked back up. Last night, night number two, no foot swelling. Amazing. I even ate a few pieces of candy yesterday when I had gotten mad at something and still saw improvement. Note to self: stop the emotional eating - it does nothing but hurt you or prolong your success at the very least.

 The moral of the story: Carefully pick your poison. It can kill you. Sugar is definitely one of them.

Happy New Year

Here it is...four days into the New Year and today is my first fully focused day. Hubby had time off from work until this morning, so  we spent the time as a family. All three of us stayed up until midnight on Thursday night, then all three of us, along with Lucky, slept (or a reasonable facsimile thereof) in one bed. Thanks be to God that we just got Mom's king sized bed a few weeks earlier when she decided to downsize hers.
Who's Lucky you ask? This is Lucky....

And as massive as he is and as fiercely protective as he is with all of us, he as just as much of a chicken. Fireworks are not a favorite. He cried and howled all evening as our neighbors reveled. So, we took him to bed with us. It was an adventure I could have lived without.

We took down the Christmas decorations the next day on a few hours sleep. On the bright side, we got the exercise bike out into the living room again so no more excuses! Yay! I'll let you know when I finally get up the nerve to climb up on it with my weakling legs. Soon I tell you...soon!

So, I have an accountability buddy this go round. My nearest and dearest friend Tammy, whose story you can follow on her blog. She chose today to be our first official weigh in, and after forgetting my water pill for two days and retaining fluids on top of overindulging during the holidays, I begrudingly offer my start number...

355 pounds. Ugh. So much for the 104 pounds lost. I'm back to 84 pounds lost. No time to wallow in self pity though - been off of processed sugar for two days and I feel so much better already. Now its back to taking meds consistently and working exercise into the routine, This is going to be a very happy and healthy year - I'm so excited!

Looking forward to Friday, which will be our weigh in day going forward. I know I'll see progress. Lots of other things to share about improvements I'll be making this year, too, to our household and beyond. Its truly a Happy New Year - so full of hope. May yours be as well.

A New Beginning

WARNING: THERE ARE PICTURES IN THIS POST THAT MAY BE DISTURBING TO SOME, BUT I WANT THE WHOLE STORY TO BE TOLD. 

This isn't my first rodeo. This I say on many levels. I have had so many blogs in the past. Some I abandoned on my own when things got tough or life got busy. Others were hacked. Its taken nearly a year to start this one, but i need all of the support and accountability I can get.

I've also struggled with my weight for most if not my entire life. I've had some success - I lost 100 pounds back in 2009, but it slowly crept back up and brought friends. I never had any major health problems with the exception of high blood pressure diagnosed in 2007, but after regaining the weight, my health began to deteriorate.

The longer I maintained my weight in the 300's, the worse I felt. My activity got less and less until one day I realized that my days consisted of getting out of bed, making my way to the living room couch where I'd sit all day long. Every now and again, I'd go see my parents, or shop, but the minimal activity would drain me for days.

My legs began to swell and over time, got blisters on them, that would break and weep for weeks. I'd go to the doctor, they chalk it up to poor circulation, give me a diuretic and send me on my way. Eventually, this was no longer helping, and I tried one last time. This time the doctor told me I was having congestive heart failure. After multiple testing by cardiologists, this was debunked, especially after they were able to get a lot of fluid off of me with stronger meds - I actually lost 67 pounds of water in just a few weeks. I was encouraged....until I started going downhill again.

It used to be that when I was forced to get up from my sedentary lifestyle that I would actually start to feel a bit better, and yet i would always regress afterward. We were dealing with the sudden illness my of Dad and his passing about a month later in May, and for the first time, the more I did, the worse I felt. I kept a few doctors appointments and watched my weight spiral out of control to 439. It was evident when we snapped a picture of my sisters and mother....

 Fast forward to later this summer, when went back to the cardiologist, who focused on my legs, saying I have venous insufficiency and sent me to the wound care specialist in their group. I was prescribed a round of una boots.....

I could barely walk with them and had to go weekly to have them changed. While I initially had some positive results, it didn't take long to get discouraged with these, too. Next step: a vein ablation. This procedure would strip the vein and reroute the blood low to healthier veins. Sounded like a winner to me so I went into with hope.

It was a painful procedure that let my thigh pouring excess water for days - I couldn't even leave my home because it wet my shorts to badly. This was done on August 20th. I naturally signed o on a bunch o papers that I understood the risks even though they were highly unlikely. I was ine with signing as I was being told that there would be almost immediate relief.

Instead of relief, every morning I woke, I felt a little worse.I had already resorted to sleeping on the couch because I couldn't get up in my bed any longer, so I was not resting well and quite exhausted. But this was different. Finally, on September 3rd, I got so winded just walking the length of our hallway that I knew something was terribly wrong. I told my hubby I needed to call for an ambulance because I needed to go to the hospital but there was no way I was going to get to the van to have him take me.

The next while was a blur. I had no idea what was going on, other than  being put on a ventilator....

But I remember well the day that the doctor came in to talk to me. I had blood clots in both of my lungs, cellulitis  in my legs along with an infection, an infection on the skin on my stomach, my kidneys were nearly not functioning which caused one side of mt heart to overwork and enlarge. He told me they did all they could do but they couldn't wean me off of the vent. He could either discharge me, but I would be back in three months or less, and I'd be in worse shape. They'd fix me up and I'd be back again until they finally couldn't fix me any longer. The other option - a tracheotomy. Once I was off of it, I need gastric bypass.

So, I agreed to the trach....

Thus started a marathon hospital tour, moving from one facility to another, then yet one more, until I got strong enough to come home on November 9th. Today, 52 days later, I am walking on my own without the aid of a walker, and my battle scars are fading - the one on my neck and the ones on my right arm where I had a pic line inserted (there was a time when I had 9 IVs in me at one time).  The best news was that just after Thanksgiving, I weighed 335 pounds - I was already down 104 pounds! Gastric bypass be damned!

I have gained some over Christmas, but this is going to be my year. My year to finish getting my life back. I already threw three years away and its got to stop. I don't ever want to put my loved ones through anything like this again, and I want this blog to serve as a reminder. To remind me of what I put my husband through, as he spent part of every day that I was in the hospital by my side, logging over 6,000 miles on our van in 67 days. To remind me how my heart broke, hearing about how my Mom, who just buried my Dad only 5 months earlier, was planning my funeral as my nephews and niece tried to comfort her. So much more that I couldn't even begin to list them all in one post.

Still, I'll be sharing more hospital stories over the next while, just to keep myself walking faster away from the potential death of myself until I run full speed into the arms of my healthy strong self.

Here's to 2016! Ready or not, here I come!