Working Harder in Week 4 of the Slog to Surgery

So, I'm into Week 4.  I've lost almost 9.5kg.  I've lost 12cm around my hips, 10cm around my waist, 12cm around my bust, and 8cm around my neck.  I'm the original shrinking violet.  This is what happens when you put wet people into a clothes dryer set on Hot.

All the size 26 clothes are becoming rather baggy, but I won't get into a size 24 for another 3kg or so - hanging out for that!  I do have some lovely size 24's, so it'll be nice to maybe wear something in that size the week before the surgery.

It's creeping up, that surgery... much faster than I realised.  I have to pull my finger out and get some cleaning done around home, that I won't be able to do for about four weeks afterwards.  Then again, I could just let it go...

I've been busy scrapbooking instead :D   Have been working on the big project for The Ignatians Musical Society - a series of albums donated to them by the family of a late friend of ours.  He passed away in the early 1990s, and I've been asked to scrapbook his albums so that they will be a lasting record of all the work done by this wonderful man.  It's a huge effort - something like 15 shows, including several Broadways and Gilbert & Sullivan works.   Lots of fun... although I have to hold back with my own sentiments and keep it simple, both of which I find very difficult to do!

I think I'll just keep scrapbooking... and maybe clean in between times... it's easier not to feel hungry when you're sitting still for hours.  The minute I get up and use up energy, I'm starving again...  Oh well, onwards and upwards... per volar sunata!

The End of Week 1 of the Hard Slog to Surgery

So.....  6 days after I saw the dietician last, and have started the intensive weight loss program for surgery.

I've had almost a week on the shakes and soups prescribed.  At first I thought I'd hate them.  The first soup I had was just awful (I think I mentioned that before).  But after that, I've settled into the rhythm of the diet a little better.  I really enjoy my 80g of protein every day.  Ray has made sure we have lovely shaved leg ham in the fridge, and I've added in a little steak and some red salmon to the equation.  In addition, I've tried to vary my salads and vegies as much as possible to alleviate boredom.

So... after hopping onto the scales with some certainty (especially as I hadn't cheated all week, except for a tall black decaf coffee with a splash of skim milk), I discovered with much joy that I had lost 5kg!!!!  To say I was pleased would be the understatement of the day.  I knew I'd lost a bit because my rings are a little loose :)  Dietician is very pleased with my progress, and encouraged me to keep going and persist with the plan.

So, we start Week 2 with a happy heart and a renewed energy to persist with the program wherever possible (trying not to cheat), to keep adding variety, and to try and add some activity.  Plus slug down more water... I didn't do so well in that department.  Bought some diet cordial to change the taste of our ordinary water up here.

Hope to get up the courage/nerve to go swimming this week... or at least take Tiger for a couple of walks :)

Woo hoo!  I'm succeeding!!

The Next Adventure... Weight Loss

A couple of months ago, I decided to visit my mother's GP.  Tony had also been Papa's GP, and had saved his life a couple of times, so I had faith in him and his ability to direct me appropriately.  After having some blood work done, Tony found a few things, including gout (who knew people under 60 ever got gout?), a complete lack of Vitamin D in my system, electrolytes all over the place and some thyroid problems as well.  I had asked for his advice about my ever-deteriorating knees, which were becoming just too painful for me to cope with.

His answer was blunt.  Have weight loss surgery - a.s.a.p.

I was quite stunned at first.  My immediate thought was lap-banding.  He gain-said that immediately, and suggested a gastric sleeve.  I had never even heard of it.  He explained it briefly, and I thought it sounded like a real possibility.  The big problem, of course, was the $$$.  Wasn't it always - and not just with this - but with every facet of our lives?

Tony was also seeing Mama on that day, and unbeknowned to me, he spoke to her about the surgery as well.  When we got back to her home, she said, "Well, I think you should have it done."  I couldn't believe what I was hearing.  My mother wanted to spend the better part of $20,000 on surgery for me, so that I could lose weight.  I was completely stunned.

When I got home, I discussed it with Ray.  I prayed hard about it.  In the end, we both felt it would give me another chance at living the rest of my life in reasonably good health - in fact, when all the cards were laid on the table, it was really a no-brainer.  If the surgeon agreed, we'd proceed.

Which is exactly what has happened.  At this date, I have had my first two visits with the surgeon, two of his practice nurses, and his dietician.  The surgeon has given me the green light for surgery - with one condition.  I have to lose at least 10kg before the surgery - by 4th November, in other words.

I have been put on a very low carb diet (it's actually a no-carb diet).  I have three protein shakes a day, plus the usual "free" vegies and salads, plus the usual "free" stuff like diet jellies, diet drinks and cordials, and some condiments.  I can only have two serves of fruit a day - and they're limited to 6 kinds.  I am now having either an apple, a pear, or 6 strawberries each day, or 6 prunes.

After Day 1 of said diet, I actually don't feel too bad.  The two protein shakes which I had during the day, I really enjoyed.  The soup at dinner was simply diabolical.  I opted for a slightly larger serve of protein with my plateful of vegies, and chucked the shake down the sink.  I have washed it down with a pineapple diet jelly, which slightly mollified my stunned tastebuds.

In addition, I had a decent hypo before dinner, with shakes and dizziness.  Will have to watch the sugars in the next 24 hours.

Watch this space...

Party's over... in more ways than one...

It's taken a few weeks for me to sit here and write some thoughts on The Big Bash.  Its consequences surprised, delighted and dismayed me.

She had such a great day, surrounded by all but one of her nieces and nephews and many friends and family from far and wide.  Some came down from Roma just for the day to be with her.  I loved that whenever I saw her, she was happily engaged in conversation with someone, she always had a drink in her hand, and she was utterly exhausted at the end of the day - "I had such a good time!" she said to me.

In the days just before the party, that became my sole reason for doing everything I did.  I wanted it to be the best day for her that I could arrange.  I was looking forward to catching up with some favourite rellies, but what mattered most was Mama's happiness.  That we achieved that was great.

By the time the day itself rolled around, I was so exhausted I could barely move.  I had cooked and prepared and decorated for three days solidly before the Thursday.  I stayed the night with her on the Wednesday night, hoping for an early start.  I stayed up until 3am putting potato and bacon onto toothpicks, and doing a myriad of other things - stacking plates and napkins, counting cups, etc.

Mama woke me at 5am.

My valiant and marvellous helpers, Annie and Karen, arrived at 8am, and did not stop working until well after 3pm.  I simply do not know what I would have done without them.  They made sandwiches out of 20 loaves of bread - all of which were eaten, and then proceeded to plate up all of the finger food I had made.  Barb and Mumma G arrived and helped to make up dozens of fruit and Italian toothpicks for the vegetarians.  A small army of people was making my party happen, and I plunged into the preparations with renewed vigor.

Catherine arrived with her batch of food, and they took that over as well.  An efficient conveyor of food in and out of microwaves and ovens and onto platters ensured that the food was piping hot and delivered around the guests by my niece and nephews.  They worked so hard!

I did have time to stop and talk with friends after the speeches.  I really enjoyed that period... except for when cousin Kathleen managed to pipe in that she didn't like my dress "at all - it doesn't suit you in the least" - in a very loud voice which was heard by several people.  Needless to say, I was completely shattered after that.  I had been so excited to find a real party dress - something that I had never ever bought before - and to be able to wear it for my Mama.  Cate said she liked it, Barb loved it... the girls in the kitchen and Mumma G commented how nice it looked.  But that one comment helped to start the next downward spiral.

After a couple of days of helping Mama at home, putting everything back to rights at her end - my end was still a disaster area - I discovered that I had absolutely no interest in doing anything at all, including getting out of bed, eating, ironing, sleeping for up to 14 hrs at a time, or staying awake for the same period, or speaking to anyone.  This continued for a week, after which time we agreed that I should phone Dr Brad.  He was very concerned, and made some changes to my drug regime - but did not change any of the drugs themselves.

Another three weeks followed, and I had slid backwards even further.  I was no longer interested in life, and was sliding back into a major depressive episode.  Went back to Brad, who immediately changed the anti-depressants and introduced another sedative to induce better sleep.

I am due to see him next week... I have evened out, but I can feel emotions being reined in by the drugs.  Now, as a long term taker of such medications, I can tell the difference when the drugs are doing their work.

..............................

This week I've been very saddened about the death of Peter Roebuck, one of the ABC's cricket commentary team.  Peter committed suicide by jumping out of a hotel window in Johannesburg.  He was about to be arrested and charged with the alleged sexual assault of a young Zimbabwean man.

Anyone who knows my story knows that I attempted suicide in my first year of treatment in 1997.  I was in a horrible place mentally at the time.  I had been having amnestic episodes every week for six months, and they showed no signs of diminishing.  No-one knew why I was having them, and couldn't seem to stop them.  I was losing days at a time.  I couldn't work.  I took an overdose of Serepax - 28 pills in fact.  I woke up in the Royal Brisbane, and had to drink down two cups of charcoal.  I remember how devastated I was when I realised that I had failed in my attempt - the despair was raw and ugly and bloody.

Peter Roebuck had always behaved with the utmost decency.  He came across as the quintessential English gentleman.  His respect for his fellow commentators, no matter how many times they teased him, remained in tact.  He was well known for his philanthropy, sponsoring a number of children in Pietermaritzburg for their education right through to university.

I can only assume that he must have been in or near that very dark place where I had been... where there is no light... where time is suspended, but racing along at the same speed... where desperation and need for relief drive your every thought and word.

I felt the utmost despair for him... knowing where he had been... how frightened he must have felt.  With fellow commentators right beside him - Jim Maxwell had been with him only moments before - he still chose the most desperate route of escape from some horror which he felt must have awaited him.

For one who had set the bar so high for himself,  whatever was the crux of that allegation must have sounded a death knell for him.  Otherwise, I cannot believe how he would have otherwise decided to take his own life.

Vale Peter Roebuck.

Five Days and counting down...

I wondered if this week would ever come... it feels like it's taken forever to get here.

Because we're having a lot of finger food and sandwiches and snacky stuff, a lot of it couldn't be done beforehand.  Cate has done as much as she could manage... but there's still an awful lot left to do.

Today I have been in the middle of making mini pavlovas, boiling condensed milk for caramel, and making lemon butter.  The pavs are slow going as they have to cool in the oven for about 4 hours.  So you can't start another batch until that's happened.

In between, it's been finishing the gi-normous shopping list, which I shall do tomorrow, except for the uncooked vegies and fruit which will need to be fresh as a daisy for Thursday.  It's also "take another load of stuff to Mama's house" day - this time, the coffee percolators, my clean silver, assorted non-matching milk jugs and sugar bowls, serviette holders and water jugs.

Our guest list now stands at about 85 - absolutely terrifying!  I'm worried I won't have made enough food... I'll make sure I've got some stuff in the freezer on standby, just in case...

With the help of Baba, I found a lovely dress... it makes me feel rather girly... I haven't felt like that in years... it'll be noice to have a pretty dress to wear :)

Centrepieces are nearly finished - just tissue paper and tulle to be added.  I'm really happy with the silver one for the cake table... I hope she likes them... she seems not to notice the chaos on the table when she comes over...

Please God, I hope this works out...

Colds and The Party

Did I ever tell you that a series of colds (this is the third in as many months), and getting ready for a big party do not mesh together at all well?

This third episode is driving me nuts, coz it's lasting longer... and it's right in the middle of everything else going on!

The big party is going ahead full-steam on 6th October - the nieces that said that "we must have a big party" is now having to deal with her husband having full doses of chemo and radium for cancer :(  One of her sisters also has to have a lumpectomy soon... that family has known such tragedy... I'm hoping they can make it, if not just to have some time out...

But... onward ho!

Mama and I keep muttering "bloody party"... Sister Catherine has her food preparation well underway - she's doing a lot of the stuff that can be frozen and prepared ahead of time.

I, on the other hand, have table centrepieces littering my overflowing dining room table, a collection of beautiful pom poms (courtesy of Barb and Elizabeth Whittaker) sitting on my spare bed, ready to be hung onto the canopies, and a leaning tower of Tupperware and assorted containers taking up non-existent space in my craft room.

There are discussions about whether or not to hire extra chairs, cups and a bigger canopy in case it chucks it down with rain... about whether or not to have extra sandwich fillings on standby... and a hundred and one other assorted bits of trivial importance.  Like anyone is going to notice if the milk jugs don't match...

I've decided to take the week of the party off working, because it will just reduce the pressure... I've scheduled an appointment with Dr Brad, in case I'm at screaming point by then.

Must order the birthday cake soon too...

Ahhhhh... details, details, details....

Well, there was something of a gap in between....

I did fall into a bad hole... and periodically I drift back into it... but in the main, I'm able to drag myself out of it...

We've had doses of the flu, helping Mama come to terms with living without Papa - and she's being so brave, dentists up the wazoo, doctors up the wazoo, all of that... and our colder-than-usual winter scuppered any vague inclination I had of exercising in the pool...

And my bestie, Barb, and I seem to have both had a run of stuff that's just sent us to ground in a big way... not at all conducive to resurrecting a more "normal" life... whatever that is...

But I have had to kickstart my energy with an afterburner... at Papa's funeral, one of my cousins suggested that we simply must have a party for Mama for her 90th birthday... which is on 6th October.  At first, she had a list of 130 people, at which point I had to raise some flags - particularly about which rafter we would seat them on if it happened to rain that day... she has pared that back to 110, and I am praying that our erstwhile friends and family will have such rich and fruitful lives that they won't be able to join us...  If that cousin turns up, and I find her sitting on a chair chatting, she may well have a full tray shoved gently into her hands :)

With some six weeks left to go, my head is now full of recipes, numbers, chairs, decorations, table centrepieces, balloons, cups, and all the associated other paraphernalia required for a celebration of such enormity.  My sister is going to help with the cooking - but she works full time and has four children, and lives west of Ipswich, so her help is going to be limited.

My dear friend from Singapore, Francyn Tan, gave us both a wonderful surprise recently - she has painted a picture of our Tiger from a photograph.  It's the most beautiful thing - and Ray said so - which is saying something for him!  It shall take pride of place in our home, once it arrives.

So dear friends, I shall blog on, inspired by Michelle, who has also started to reblog (there's a new word for you).  I shall return every now and again, and shall post pics of party stuff...

much love
Annie xx