Top Fives

Someone over at Duodenalswitch.com asked what people's top five good, bad and ugly were post-DS. At almost 18 months out, here's my list:

My top five:

1. Knowing I won't die or become disabled from diabetes or its associated ills.
2. An increased likelihood of a longer, healthier life.
3. Being able to sit, stand, or walk wherever I want to go
4." Normal":Looking like normal people, buying normal sized clothes from normal (not specialty) shops, not scaring children, not having people ever know I looked anything other than the way I do now.
5. No more back, hip or foot pain from my weight.

The bad:

1. Abdominal issues - gas, bacteria and incisional hernia
2. Having the condition for which I needed to [B]invent[/B] the term "boob origami".
3. The thought and reality of other surgeries to deal with the hernia & skin nexus of ick.
4. Uncertainty if my body is actually _processing_ all of the protein, calcium, Vitamin D, etc. I'm pouring into it.
5. Iron deficiency

The Ugly:

1. "Creeping crepe" - you know it when you see it on your neck, arms, stomach, thighs - the snowdrifts of skin, wobblies.
2. Deeper lines and creases on my face.
3. When I get a gas attack I go absolutely grey - the color that goes with nothing, except a quick trip to the ladies.
4. The heartbreak of knobby knees - and associated bruises from sleeping with them digging into each other.
5. The smell factor. 'Nuf said.

It's been a bit of a rough week. I've still not heard if i can get my surgery changed, although my rabbi said, undoubtedly even more informed after having seen me get an "attack" at his house on Friday night, that in my case, because the surgery was unquestionably necessary, a Friday surgery would be permitted, if not encouraged. I'm worried about how much time I might be out of work and how I'll feel going back to work. I don't have any sick leave saved up and STD only kicks in day 21. Even at that point it's 60% of my wages - although no taxes are withheld. On the other hand, 60% of my current wages is only 10% less than what I was making prior to my promotion. I have to keep that in mind! I know that my health comes first, second and third, but, still, I worry about not pulling my (now significantly reduced) weight. Add to this that I will be out when I have to submit my diss - although my dear friend Sara has agreed to help me out with the walk-through should I not be able to do this myself. Dang. This is so _not_ the way I thought it would go. Add to this that we are having dear out of town guests who leave the day before my surgery and you get why I'm a big of a bundle. Time to put on my big girl undies and let go and let G-d. Oy.

Plastics: Round II

I had my consult with Dr. Claire Buckley on Thursday and it was like night and day, compared to my interaction with Dr. Shitstain. She was direct, informative, helpful, sympathetic and pro-active. In short, she was the direct opposite of her colleague and I feel very positive about her being part of the surgical team. My latest stomach/bacterial attack, last week in New York, convinced me that I need to get this gut issue resolved sooner, rather than later.

Dr. Buckley explained that the repair that Dr. B will do on my hernia will tighten me up tighter than a normal tummy tuck and that she will do the top so that it matches the bottom in firmness. Normally, a panniculectomy would not tighten the muscles in the abdomen, but here the plication is done as part of the normal surgical procedure for hernia. She will also remove the excess fat and skin from the panni, raise the pubis (!) and she felt that she would be able to go far enough around my side and make little rounded cuts upward, so that I shouldn't have a problem with the dreaded "dog ears" - little flaps of skin over the hips that look like little fat lumps. They usually have to be removed in a later surgery, one that is often done on an outpatient basis.

And then there are the girls. Well, folks, I can truly say that I am a 36 extra long. From where my breasts start on my chest to the bottom of the nipple, we are talking 36 inches. Dr Claire says that if they get any longer, it would be difficult to do anything about them surgically, without risking (I am so not making this up) "nipple death". Yikes. On the positive side, they are only 13" on the underside. Complicating this is the shape of my chest (the thorax). I apparently have quite a "prominent chest", which enhances the" lemmings hurling themselves off of cliffs" impression that my mams give the unsuspecting observer. Unfortunately, according to the doc, breast reduction is not an option in my case: I don't have enough tissue left. Mastoplexy - or a breast lift - is the only choice - and it's not usual that the insurance would cover this, but she was willing to write a strong letter, given my history of skin issues. The bad news: while it theoretically could be done at the same time as the hernia repair, the reality is that the hernia repair and reconstruction will run almost 6 hours in surgery and they don't want to keep me under any longer than that. This was part of the selling point to my mind: a "twofer" as it were. I'll have to see what the insurance says

I'm Voting Republican

File under: Parody

Same Crap, Different Season


It's baaack. That same stomach bug I had earlier this year. This time, it struck me down in the East Village while I was having lunch with my cousin. Fortunately, she was not only cool about it, but very helpful, and got us a cab back to the Westin where I'd been staying. Big kudos to Ms. Rebecca who canceled my check out and let me lay down for a few hours in my old room. It made a huge difference, and I was able to get myself out to JFK in one piece. Once in the plane, not so good. I stupidly thought I could only have an attack once a day. How wrong I was. Within an hour I was reduced to a huddled ball in the bathroom, where I ensconced myself in the lavatory for the next hour. It sucks to be sick while traveling. It sucks worse to be sick on a fully-packed plane, on a Sunday night, with an hour or so between pushback and take-off, and the plane reeking of diesel.

But the good news was that I was re-elected to the board, so I'll have another three years of regular visits to New York. I managed to hit my favorite bookstore (where I usually score some advance copies at a facile price) and my favorite bakery before I was so cruelly reduced. After a debacle with an unauthorized charge of some $950 to my credit card from my former home in New York, I was very pleased with the location and treatment I received at the Westin in Times Square. Not only was Rebecca a lifesaver, but after finding a man in the room which I'd been given the key to (thanks, but I'll bring my own), I was upgraded to a gorgeous corner room with a stunning view of Times Square and the Hudson River - and watching a major thunderstorm from the 34th floor was very memorable. Saving money in big city tip: ask your hotel if they can put a refrigerator in your room. It doesn't usually cost extra and can save a good deal of cash, especially on breakfasts.

I walked so much that I had blisters on blisters. This necessitated the first purchase of shoes outside of my discount haunt in over three years. But it was buy some new kicks or not be able to walk at all and Syms again did me right with a super 16 year old sales clerk and a pair of Rockport moccasins that I could walk right out and run up and down the subway stairs. I also scored a few other necessities - new underskirts (my latest fell off me on the escalator to the 4th floor), new panties (3 pair of Jockeys for $6) and three blouses, ranging in sizes from 14 petite to XL. Again with the size mishegoss. Go figure.

Ten Reasons I Am Glad We Saw Obama in St. Paul on 3 June

It's surely not like I long for crowds. I hate, hate, hate large, swarming or milling groups of people and a group of 30,000 definitely qualifies. But these are some of the reasons why I'm glad that DH and I were there at the Excel Center this evening in St. Paul.

1. It was a hugely historic moment for my country. A year ago, people were just coming around to the idea that a black man _could_ be president of the United States. I got to see the moment an African-American got to lead a major party in a presidential election.

2. It was a major step for our city. The last time St. Paul was this important was arguably when another black man, Dred Scott, was trying to make the case that he was a human and a citizen - and trying to figure if he'd have to go back into that barrel, this time to Canada.

3. Ten years from now, if I said I was in St. Paul when Obama declared himself the Democratic nominee, I'd have to come up with a better excuse for why I wasn't there than that I'd just worked a ten hour day.

4. Binoculars. DH was initially skeptical about the necessity of bringing along "binos", but they made a huge difference. Through the lenses I could see the man closer than those standing 15 feet in front of him. I really felt like I "was there" - ringside.

5. The major sense I got from Obama was not of his charisma - which was present, although the tone of his presentation was more serious than celebratory - but of his integrity. I'd take integrity over charisma, any day.

6. I can fit in the seats and slid adeptly both into and out of my seat between the railing and the chair back. There is no way I would have considered attempting to do this at 400 lbs. Heck, I couldn't have stood the wait and several mile walk to get into the darn place.

7. The great diversity of people - age, race, gender. It was so cool to see so many Africans and Muslims there, particularly women. There was a major hijabi presence.

8. The excitement and politeness of the crowd. Not two great tastes that usually taste great together, but the preponderance of Minnesotans and Midwesterners assured that things happened in an orderly but enthusiastic manner.

9. I realized that my brother really does look like Barak Obama. Really.

10. I got to be present when one of the great rhetoricians of our decade said this:
"Because you believed that this year must be different than all the rest, because you chose to listen not to your doubts or your fears but to your greatest hopes and highest aspirations, tonight we mark the end of one historic journey with the beginning of another a journey that will bring a new and better day to America. Tonight, I can stand before you and say that I will be the Democratic nominee for President of the United States." See #1.

Plastic Update


First, let me say that I am probably the least excited person about plastic surgery... Were it not for having Harry the Havoc-wreaking Hernia to contend with here, I doubt that I would be thinking about this kind of surgery at all. I'm hoping to put this off until fall, when I'll have more sick leave built up, won't have to try to have my poor skin try and heal at the hottest time of the year, etc.. The only reason I had my consult with the Shitty PS Doc in March, was because the pain was truly abysmal, and I was afraid that if I had to have emergency surgery for the hernia, I wouldn't be able to have the reconstructive stomach work covered by insurance. So, I went to see Dr. Shit while waiting for his Competent Colleague to see me in mid June. Low and behold, I get a letter in the mail, informing me that I had been scheduled for PS and the hernia repair surgery with the nudnik on 27 June (a Friday, yet) and my other consult "bumped" (read: cancelled) until, uh, maybe mid October?

I was amazed and furious.Not ever being a gal to take things lying down, I sent an email to Dr. Competent, asking that she and Dr. Hernia do my surgeries, reschedule and gave a brief, factual rundown of why I didn't want Dr. Shit anywhere near my body with a sharp object. The email went something like this:

"I am writing to see if you both can schedule an incisional hernia repair surgery and a reconstruction on X date and if I can schedule a pre-surgical consultation with Dr. Gut prior to this date. I am currently scheduled to have this surgery with Dr. Gut and Dr. Shit, on the above date, but I am not at all comfortable having Dr. Shit perform the plastic segment of the surgery.

At Dr. Gut's suggestion, I had originally planned to have Dr. Competent perform the surgery. Given her busy schedule, the earliest appointment for a consultation was 12 June. However, an attack of acute gastric distress in March made me accept an earlier appointment with Dr. Shit. My meeting with him was not satisfactory. He did not respect my wishes to have a consultation without another resident (male) present, he did not listen respectfully to my questions, could not answer my questions about appropriate options for resolution of post-surgical pain, and, most disturbingly, he stated that he was basing his surgical recommendations on "what your insurance will pay for." Accordingly, I am not sure if a panniculectomy or an abdominoplasty is the more appropriate procedure for me, given my hernia, medical history, long-term goals, etc. I do not want Dr. Shit involved with my surgery.

Calling to confirm my appointment with Dr. Competent, I found out that my appointment had been "bumped" without me being informed of this change and that the earliest appointment with Her is in October. I am concerned that if the date X works for both of you, there would be no time for a pre-surgical consultation, nor time for the insurance to reissue the approval with Dr. Competent instead of Dr. Shit.

I am not set on the above surgical date [which was on a Friday, for frikk's sake - never a good day for surgery in terms of continuity of care] and am more than willing to find another date or time that would work better for both of you, given your very full schedules."


Long story short: I got an email back from Dr. Competent that very evening, apologizing for the bump, etc. and have a consult set up with her mid June and I'm hoping for a late Oct/Nov surgery. Insurance approved a panniculectomy without any additional documentation, but, having read more about the pros and cons of both procedures, I'm going to ask about a muscle tightening, given the size of the hernia repair that needs to be done (think: Texas) and see if I can get a boob lift. Vanity?
Nope, I'm sick of the skin rashes and tearing that I've had in the past. I'm told that this is not only a condition that doesn't improve, but actually gets worse. Just what I need...

More Size Strangeness

A group of us were discussing changes in sizes over time in our water aerobics class. The consensus was that sizes ran much smaller when we were kids, some 30-50 years back. One woman talked about her "size 16" scout uniform which would barely fit a size 8 girl today. I had something of the same experience trying on some old skirts from, well, when I started college, let's say. The label said "18" but the size was identical to two "size 14" skirts I have today. Ditto an old Pendelton kilt which says "14" but is something between a "12" and a "10" in the waist and yoke.

This in mind, we stopped at Target this evening where fitted cotton shells were on sale for $8. I thought that the XL looked ok, but on second thought, the XXL might work better. I need to trust myself: upon trying the shirts on at home, the XL fit exactly right through the bust and stomach - a bit loose in the waist, but this is the story of my fashion life these days, and I'm not complaining.

Here's another bit of oddity: the scale shows that pre-menstrual bloat brings me up 10 lbs from last week. But my waist is 1/4 inch smaller than last week. Pictures of me look thinner than two weeks ago, when the scale said I weighed less. Very bizarre.

And one more thing: I got a thick packet in the mail today telling me that I was scheduled for plastic surgery AND my hernia repair with Dr. Chaudry and Dr. B on 27 June. Niiice. As if anyone asked me about _my_ availability or if I'd let Chaudry near anything with a pulse - answer: not on a dare. I'm happy that he played a constructive part in getting the surgery approved by the insurance. But, I'm takin' that sweet sheet and shopping it elsewhere.

Butter is the New Cheese

One of the more liberating aspects of the DS is the ability to eat fat without fear of the massive calorie load; for many of us DSers, as little as 20% is absorbed. Well, I push it. I'm a big butter fan (something that runs in the family, I might add), but I'm also kind of picky about my butter. I've become even more sensitive to the taste since my surgery and butter that others rave about, e.g. small-batch Hope Butter, from the Hope Valley creamery, leaves me cold. The stuff is oily and insipid. I love the politics of the stuff - local, small-batch, organic - but hate the taste.

This dislike got me into a passionate conversation with local chef and eat-local-guru Lenny Russo and we hatched up the idea of having a butter tasting, ala the French Laundry in Sonoma. Tonight was the night for Lenny and six other butter hounds to get our cream on. He kindly opened his restaurant just for us, and we tasted four wonderful artisan butters that I brought from Marin County: Clover's artisan butter, Clover organic, Strauss Family organic and artisan butter and an Italian ringer (all cultured and kosher, might I add). The Clover artisan and the Strauss Family were neck and neck, but I think that, despite the more pallid color, the Clover artisan was the best. They all have about 85 - 87% milk fat. Think: less water, more fat = more taste. You could eat it like cheese, really, no bread necessary, although Lenny supplied us with freshly baked rye rolls.

We also had a great time talking about organic farming, poultry, forced collectivization and, not least, cows. If you have spent enough time around bovines and dairies, you can tell what kind of cow gave the milk and, often, what the cow has eaten. Lenny did a respectable job of identifying the type of cow that produced the favorite butter of the evening -- a trick question, as there were actually two breeds, guernsey and jersey. Turns out he's a huge cultured butter fan as well for the same reasons - the tang, the nuttiness and the fact that you can keep it room temperature for way longer than it will last without it going rancid. Warning: once you get used to the taste, it's hard to go back to sweet cream butter.