I’m ba-aaack!

In my last post (which yes, was written over a month ago), I mentioned I was going to have surgery to get a cyst removed.  Surgery and recovery were successful, and I feel great.  The cyst was actually attached to my left fallopian tube.  Since it was understandably pretty hard work for my fallopian tube to support a 9-10 cm bag of fluid, there’s a possibility that it and/or the ovary won’t work.  That’s fine, I suppose.  I’ve still got the right side and many, many more years before I plan on worrying about things like reproducing.  I was tempted to post the pictures taken during surgery, but I thought that might be taking it too far.  I did kind of want to brag/express my relief of how pretty and properly-functioning my liver appears to be.  Since my dad was diagnosed with liver disease a couple years ago, I’ve had this weird paranoia that my liver just looks like a lump of coal.  It doesn’t.  In fact, my doctor referred to it as “beautiful.”

I spent a week recovering at my parents’ house.  I really wasn’t in a whole lot of pain (thank you, Percocet), and for the first couple days, the only major discomfort I had was having unbearable hiccups every time I ate something.  They fill you up with gas during surgery, and had warned me of pain in the shoulders (which did occur) and that SOMEHOW the gas would have to leave my body.  I just thought this would happen through “fluffying” (the word my family made little Sally use instead of “farting” when she became way too comfortable discussing her bodily functions with anyone who would listen).  The fluffying did come, but I didn’t have too much discomfort.  And, as I’ve mentioned before, I have no sense of smell, so that was okay.

A couple weeks after surgery, I had my follow-up appointment and the doctor cleared me for exercising again.  Yeah!  She just said I shouldn’t do any ab exercises or heavy lifting.  Naturally, since I have no patience, I started out with Jazzercise.  I realized I wasn’t quite at 100% and should probably take more time to just ease back into it.  This past week was the first week that I really worked out a lot.  Lots of Jazzercise.  Lots of running.  It felt great AND I lost 2.2 lbs at weigh-in this week.  I finally secured a number in the next group of 10’s after straddling the line since July.

When I started blogging about my weight-loss journey, I kind of promised myself that my posts weren’t going to be all “Ohhh look at me.  I’m losing weight and I’m so awesome and pretty and this is so easy.”  I thought it was crucial for my success that I include the good AND the bad.  However, I haven’t done a very good job of that recently.  Since all of my health problems started, it’s been really hard for me to stay motivated.  From the beginning of July to a couple weeks ago, I felt so tired and crampy and bloated and really, just Blah.  Prior to my birthday, I was having big losses every week and then I just hit a brick wall.  It was normal for me to have weeks of losing 3-5 pounds, but in more recent months it’s been almost a flat-line.  I know I have some very real and valid excuses with the anemia and the hormones and the giant cyst growing inside of me, but the motivation just wasn’t there.  I didn’t do a lot of tracking for WW.  I didn’t attempt to do what little exercise I could.  I just kind of threw in the towel for a few months.  Now, I do have to say, I am proud of myself for still attending meetings.  I’m not sure I would have kept up with it if it wasn’t for my mom and my awesome WW groups (both meetings and Facebook).  It was hard to remind myself that my situation was temporary.  And it was temporary.

It’s been over 3-months since my initial “Houston, we have a problem” moment (this occurred at Jazzercise, on my birthday, and is most definitely not blog-friendly.  It was like it was my body’s way of saying “Welcome to your upper-twenties, Beyotch.”).  I’m finally ready to get back in the game.  My cyst is gone, my hemoglobin levels are back to normal, and the incisions are all healed, so I have no excuses anymore.  In general, I’m just so much happier when I can exercise.  My first time running after fully recovering was awesome.  I felt like Joseph Gordan-Levitt in his Hall and Oates dance on 500 Days of Summer.  I actually high-fived people.  Sure, I averaged a 20-minute mile.  But I was running.  And my legs didn’t feel like they weighed 300 pounds each.  And it’s FALL.

A few goals for the month of October:

  • run 20 miles a week
  • lose 10 pounds by November 3 (including yesterday’s weigh-in)
  • track, track, track
  • master the side-plank with the crazy leg-lift/press things routine in Jazzercise (or, at least, master the side-plank)
  • write a new blog post once a week

Things that I am really, really grateful for during my 3 months of hell:

  • my parents’ insane amount of support (this includes my dad’s willingness to give up the big TV and couch in the basement so I could spend a week watching cheesy Hallmark movies and reruns of TLC wedding shows and Criminal Minds)
  • good health insurance
  • awesome friends – I can’t remember if I shared in my last post, but The Emily’s and Kim went out to lunch with me before I started my fast for surgery.  It was so nice to be able to have a couple hours of B.F.F. time before I started my love-hate affair with Jell-O, popsicles, and Powerade.  Also, Emily M. brought me the most amazing peach cobbler after surgery.
  • Long conversations with my sister.  She constantly tells me how awesome and hilarious and pretty I am and therefore, validates my existence.  (She is even more awesome and hilarious and pretty than I am.)  She also did a good job of reassuring me that this didn’t all happen because I refused to name my uterus.  In fact, she agreed that maybe my uterus didn’t deserve a name since it has been dead-set on making my life a living hell for the last 15 (!) years.
  • My brother for being all responsible and protective and offering to call my health insurance company when I wasn’t sure if they were going to authorize anything.  They eventually did, but it was nice knowing that he was willing to do that.
  • My Aunt Pat, who attended my pre-op appointment with me.  She took notes and asked the questions I couldn’t think of because I was too nervous.  She also tends to make me feel much more normal than I probably am.
  • In general, just having an amazing family and friends.  They’re awesome and have offerred a lot of support and laughter and helped take my mind off of things.
  • The fact that my health problems were cured with a minimally-invasive surgery.  The hardest part of all of this was the waiting.  I’m not a patient person, and I can’t imagine what people with real, life-threatening diseases go through.  My heart definitely goes out to them.
  • A very helpful cooperating teacher and school.  It took a lot of stress off of me to know I didn’t have to worry about anything else when I was covering.
  • The Democratic National Convention taking place during my recovery.  You haven’t lived until you’ve been hopped up on pain killers, watching President Clinton speak.  Weird things that happened, as a result of the Percocet: barely conscious clapping and fist-pumping (during a speech that focused mainly on policy) and a confession to my mother that I “don’t blame Monica Lewinsky one bit.”  Side note:  How adorable was Julian Castro’s daughter?

Thanks, everyone, for your support over the last few months!  I’m excited to be back.

My current “power song” for running.  “Hello” by Karmin.

Too nice, too clean
Too white, too green
Little haters, big dreams
I don’t care what you think about me
Two faced, old friends, told me, the end was near, forget them
See a lot of things changed since then
Don’t they know that I came from Nebraska
Am I gonna quit? Nice of you to ask
But momma told me go and chase what you after
I’m on track, so I’m gonna rap faster

And then I usually change the song after the Nebraska shout-out.