Category: Health

On my Arm Lift. And tattoo.

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Usually, I write off my brachioplasty (arm lift) results. There’s multiple reasons. I didn’t get liposuction (would have if I knew to ask!) so I still have really big arms. I also still have that obnoxious fat overhang on my elbow. So I’m usually frustrated with it. Like I went through ALL THAT and still have huge arms. Really? This shit was so expensive too!

Also, when you compare my other surgeries, those are just far more impressive. I had a stomach pouch for years even after I lost weight so tummy tuck — huge. And boobs — they make every single outfit look better. Combine those two, and there’s so much oomph! This is the only time in my whole life where my breasts have stuck out further than my stomach. Seriously. I’m pretty sure I was fat before I grew breasts, so yeah. I mean the abdomen is just a complete overhaul. The difference is amazing. So yeah, I’m usually not too jazzed about the arms in comparison. Also huge scars. I’m not terribly bothered by the scars but I am disappointed that they looked like they would be so perfect and neat right after surgery but have since expanded.

HOWEVER (yes, in all caps), if you look at old photos, the arms do look hella better. They’re not all floppy either. There was a good bit of skin removed there. Before this, I’d never have worn a tank top to work. I’d CERTAINLY never have considered a tattoo sleeve. Fat flabby arms can’t have tattoo sleeves. Now that I have tighter arms and working on a fucking fabulous tattoo sleeve, I’m all about some tank tops.

Whenever an ad for a sale at Lane Bryant or Torrid pops up, I’m like “do they have any work-appropriate tanks tops?” I have a smallish collection of work tank tops hanging in my closet now. They’re my favorite to wear. I gotta show of my sweet tat.

I know it’s a work in progress. I can’t wait till we do the shoulder! But it’s nice and substantial and damn cool already. Hopefully, it greatly detracts from my balding head and acne/hairy/PCOS chin. No seriously, I’m having big issues about feeling ugly so let’s all look at the boobs and tattoo. Oooooooo.

I’m so so so glad it has my Jack in it. I miss him so much. I rub between his eyes and tell him I miss him. (He liked having me scratch right between his eyes sometimes). So I do frequently look at it and touch his little face. And people love it.

Almost everywhere I go, someone comments on it. Seriously. Just about everywhere. “Love your tattoo!” “Gorgeous tattoo!” “Who did your tattoo?” “Is that a cat!?” “Where’d you get it done?” “That work is amazing.” “Holy shit! I love it!” It’s a hype piece. A conversation starter for sure. I love it! Nearly everywhere I go, it’s mentioned.

(And yeah, hopefully it’s drawing attention away from my face. Look at my cleavage or something.)

It’s a Trap!

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This is the third time I’ve received one of these emails:

Planet Fitness wants to know how likely I am to recommend them to others. Simple, click a number. OK. But then, it’s going to take me to a survey. And that survey will ask me if I have any comments. OF COURSE I have comments. The last two times I replied with meaningful and helpful suggestions. Do you know what happened?

Those motherfuckers CALLED ME. ON. MY. PHONE. What in gods name made them think that I wanted the local Planet Fitness to call me about my feedback? NO. Fix your shit. That’s what I want. I want more barbells and for you to kick stragglers off the 30 minute circuit that are hogging the machines. I don’t want to talk to you. Fuck.

Pregnant or Fat Until Proven Innocent

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Friday I had to see my dermatologist. I’ve been on medication to thicken up my hair for about a year now. Last summer, I had a ton of growth around my head, but not up top where it shows most. Comparison of photos from last year confirms this. So he thought we could do even better and put me on a different stronger medication. He doesn’t start people on it because it long lasting, which means it takes a long time to get out of your system if it fucks you up. But since I’ve not had any side effects from the others, he was ok with it. It’s another “For Men ONLY.” one. So he verified with me, again, that I can’t get pregnant. Cause it fucks up the babies.

So having just acquired a cat, I’m getting all his records and shit, right? And this doctor is just taking me at my word that I’ve been “fixed.” So hear me out here. We’re already walking around with vaccine cards from Covid now, right? We’re half way there. Give me a little metal tag to put on my key chain that says I’ve been fixed. So when I go to the doctor and they’re like “pee in this cup,” I can jiggle my key chain and go no thank you!

Cause the doctors always think you’re pregnant. I get that it’s probably a big lawsuit thing, but no matter what you’re at the doctor for — you’re peeing in that cup. I could have my arm ripped off and be holding it in my other arm and they’d want to make sure I wasn’t pregnant. When I had my gallbladder out, I couldn’t pee because they hadn’t let me have fluids for 24 hours (thank GOD they’re updating those rules) and the doctor got mad and asked the nurses why I wasn’t ready. “She can’t pee.” So they did a cath FOR A PREGNANCY TEST. Give me the keychain. Hell, use the cute red hearts like the rabies tags.

‘Cause any ailment on a female is because they’re pregnant or fat. Both of these things must be ruled out before you are considered for any treatments. Who gives a fuck if you’re dying. Have you considered losing weight? ALL the doctors ask that. “Have you considered losing weight?” Like no, that never occurred to me, actually, why do you bring it up? My dermatologist asked this Friday and I was like “I used to be 400lbs.” And he was stunned. Then I was like “I’ve lost 15lbs in the last year.” So then he shut up. But man if it isn’t always babies or you’re just fat.

Oh and while we’re handing out official medical tags (not those bracelets you can lie on cause you buy them yourself — I want official issued tags), I want a “high pain tolerance” one. Like I’ve decided for minor shit, I’m probably going to go to urgent care rather than my real doctor. We have a doctor shortage right now, so all the doctors are swamped. And the urgent care isn’t bad. But if something hurts, I gotta see my doc. ‘Cause he’s treated me for 20 years and he knows if I say it hurts, I aint lying. He’s seen me in states where he’s like “I don’t know how you’re just walking around right now.” New doctors think you want pain meds if you say it hurts. And I’m like listen, you don’t have to give me pain meds, I’m telling you it hurts because it motherfucking hurts and I feel this is vital to your diagnosis.

So yes, I’d like an official “fixed” tag (which should also net me discounts like it does for pets) and a “high pain tolerance” tag, please. Thank you.

Mammograms Don’t Hurt

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I work a 9/80 schedule. That means I work my 80 hours over nine days instead of the usual ten. So I get every other Friday off. Long weekend! Not really. Everything ends up getting scheduled for that Friday off. So yesterday was a LOT.

I met with the lawyer at 10. Our lawsuit is OVER! (Kinda mostly.) I signed over the settlement check and he wrote me a check for our cut. So we paid him, plus all the stuff like depositions, and he handled negotiating BCBS down to like half of what they paid and sent them their check. The only catch is, we didn’t pay back disability. I had short term disability for two months and the contract you sign states that if there’s ever a settlement, you have to pay them back. Well, we weren’t allowed to bring that up in court. So my lawyer wants to argue that I don’t have to pay it. He sent them a letter over a month ago and they haven’t replied back. So he gave me three options: Just send them a check for the full amount out of my good heart, let him keep negotiating (though he hasn’t heard from them), or just leave it be and wait to hear from them. He recommended and I chose the latter. The contract states that if they do come after me for their money, he still represents me and will negotiate with them. So yeah, IT’S OVER!

Oh, and it was tornado weather. So it was windy as FUCK. So after the lawyer I came home to take a nap, but kept getting alerted by the phone and weather radio for a million things. We were fine tough. Just a trashcan in the yard.

At 1:00, I had to go to the gynecologist. This is always fun. Men don’t have to put up with this shit. I made the appointment because I had been having a lot of pelvic pain and thought maybe my IUD had shifted. So they took my back for an ultrasound. Had me undress (yes, guys — the ultrasound is done from the inside) and did their thing. Then they had me get dressed and moved me to another room for the doctor where I had to undress again. I think this was kinda stupid. Like I’m already naked and up here on an exam table, why we gotta do this twice? Why did I just get dressed?

So I haven’t seen the GYN since I had my tubes removed which means I was way over due for a checkup and a pap smear. So of course we had to do all that. I didn’t mean to not get my pap smears, I just kinda forgot that was a thing I had to do. I have a lot of doctors, okay? So I was toying with having my IUD taken out because I obviously don’t need it, so why have it? A few people had recommended I do an ablation to get rid of periods instead. (I’m writing this as an informative subject, if you’re wondering why I’m writing this). So an ablation would burn out my uterine lining and well, if that’s gone, no periods! My doctor said we could totally do that if I wanted, but she didn’t recommend it. She says it can mask uterine cancer. So stay with the IUD it is.

She also mentioned that now that I’m 40, it’s time for mammograms. I told her I didn’t think I could do mammograms because I have implants. I was wrong. She asked when my last one was. Never. She was shocked that I didn’t have one before my implants. I shrugged. Apparently, this really surprised her because she mentioned it again later in the appointment. Anyway, she gave me the paperwork to schedule the appointment and I went back out to the waiting area to drink water so I could pee in a cup.

Oh yeah, if you’re gonna make me pee in a cup, I need ADVANCED NOTICE. I don’t know if all yall have some special muscle that lets you pee on command, but I do not. If I don’t have to pee, I can’t. So they told me to pee in a cup and I was like, “I’m not pregnant.” Apparently, they check for a lot more than just that so I wasn’t getting out of it. But I had just gone to the bathroom when I left the house — like normal people do. So I had to wait in the waiting room and drink 64 ounces of water.

While I was in the waiting room, I decided to bite the bullet and schedule the mammogram. I knew if I didn’t, I’d put if off forever. I call them up and I’m like “hey, what are the odds I can get in today?” So they called the clinic and surprise! Can I be there in 10 minutes? AWESOME. So I peed in the cup and left.

Turns out the mammogram place is literally next door to my GYN. I thought they meant a building over, but they meant the same hallway. So time to do this. I’ve always heard mammograms hurt. They smush your boobs in between two plates to take pictures and it’s horrible (supposedly). So I was not enthused. I told the person this. She had me put my fist on the machine and clamped it down to show me how much pressure there would be. Instant relief. WTF? Who complained about this? We really need a counter campaign to let woman know this is not a big deal. It doesn’t hurt at all! If you’ve had sex, you’ve had your boobs squeezed so you know what it feels like. Is it awkward? Hell yes. Is it pleasant (when a machine does it)? Nope. Is it painful? Not at all. Every year we have stuff shoved up our vaginas for exams but women are complaining about breast pictures? Suck it up. I just had three different tools shoved up my vagina while I was naked and in stirrups and let the doctor feel me up — that was WAY WORSE than some pictures of my boobs.

Oh and the mammogram lady was shocked I’d never had one. “They put implants in you without doing a mammogram?” Yep. She couldn’t believe it — especially “at [my] age.” So apparently, that’s a thing. How was I supposed to know? Ladies, if you get implants — do a mammogram first. It’s a thing, apparently. Oh and the lady said I was insanely lucky they had an opening. It usually takes 2-3 months to schedule a mammogram but so many people had canceled because of the weather (and school being closed) that they had openings. Cosmic alignment win!

So then I picked up some Chicken Salad Chick for myself and K. I’m not usually on that side of town, so if I am, I pick up a large container of Olivia’s Old South for sandwiches. Then I ran in Target for some Lily’s chocolate chips for brownies. I was gonna go by Publix, but at Target I could get quest pizzas! They were out of the chocolate chips and their freezer section was closed. God dammit. But I did use their restroom because, yall, I drank a lot of water in that waiting room.

Then I took the lawyers check to the bank. I was worried because that side of town had lost power (remember, it’s tornado weather). They were back up though! So I got to deposit the check and even got them to write me a cashiers check so I could pay for the air conditioner repairs. All the money is going straight to the mortgage. Mr C does not believe in debt. So we gotta pay off the house before we do anything else. He said I can get a new car when we pay it off though! Of course he specified we have to save for the car and not take out a loan. But still, once the house is paid off, we’ll be saving a ton each month so it won’t take long. I wanna get a hybrid cross-over or small SUV. So that’s something to look forward to! He’s the one who needs a new car but he doesn’t want one. I don’t wanna drive a tiny car anymore. I wanna win in a car wreck. I’d totally drive a truck, but a small SUV would be way more functional. Also, cheaper than a truck.

So then I dropped off K’s chicken salad (she likes the one with the cranberries — ew) and I renewed our car tags online. Plus I baked brownies. How fucking productive was I? I did ALL. THE. THINGS. I was so proud of myself! Now I’m not gonna get dressed today. I earned it.

So ladies, remember: MAMMOGRAMS AREN’T PAINFUL. It doesn’t hurt! Insurance covers them! Go get them when your doctor says to!

Bungee Fitness

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So, my oldest sister has gone HUGE into Bungee Fitness. She’s going multiple times a week and taking like everyone in Birmingham with her. Seriously, a friend from high school mentioned trying bungee fitness on Facebook, and mentioned my sisters. So she’s been tooting the horn of how awesome it is. So I really wanted to try it out!

Our local(ish) Bungee Fitness place only does demos like once a month. And you have to do a demo first, can’t just go to a class. We weren’t able to make any demos work. So a month or two ago, I decided we should just do a private party. Only needed 5 people and it works out to $30 a person — including a free tshirt. That’s only $5 more dollars than the demo and we could make it anytime we wanted. So we scheduled it and today was the day!

It was so much fun! I’ve never had fun doing a workout before! And let me tell you: This was a fucking workout. It was actually really intense and tiring. I’m sore. I’m bruised. My tylanol has worn off so I’m hurting. I twisted my ankle a bit so I’m limping. I’m sitting here in compression hose (so the ankle won’t swell). Like that is a WORKOUT. You could 100% get built doing that. I would have never thought it — even with all the pictures I’ve seen of people doing it — but yeah. Not easy.

I will say this though: fuck that “no pain on your joints” bullshit. I’m fat and 40. My knees felt that.

But oh my god it was so much fun bouncing around! Even just spinning around. Crazy fun. I even did voluntary burpees. And I did them totally! And I did a mother fucking HANDSTAND, bitches!

I’ve never done a handstand! It was awesome! Yes, the instructor helped me get my big fat leg up there to the rope — but then I did it! I could even do handstand pushups! And spin around. Just spinning around in the handstand was super fun. I stayed like this for a long time. I mean there was the fun factor — but also this was relieving the pain of how much that damn harness was digging into the pantylines in the middle of my legs. Felt like my panties were 2 sizes too small. And when I came down in the pushup, my head totally left a little sweat spot cause I was sweating like a fool. Should have worn a sweatband (I usually do when I workout — it’s very unfashionable). But yeah, I hung out like that for so long that the instructor kept asking if I was OK and needed help getting out of it. Nope, just giving my crotch a break!

Also, the harness is padded around it. But not enough for my 44 inch waist! So I had no padding over my stomach. So it’s bruised! Ha! K suffered the same fate. Like I need a paddle bard shoved down my shirt or something. Need padding. The skinny people got padding all the way around!

So these harnesses hook in two ways. First we did stuff with it hooked in the front. This was a lot of fun. Then we did stuff with it hooked in the back. This hurt. One, lack of padding over my stomach. Two, I’m heavy. 256lbs, thank you (I know, I’ve lost like 15lbs since me and K started at the gym!). So a lot of weight on that not padded strap. Also, I have no abs. I’m still trying to get my abs back from the surgery (you know, where they peeled back my stomach skin and stitched my abs together with kitchen twine). It’s slow going too. If I overdo it — I’m in pain for a week. So I have to carefully count how many reps of ab moves I do. Cause you don’t know you over did it until the next day, and then, you’re fucked. So if I had a decent set of abs, I think it wouldn’t have been as painful on my stomach. That’s where I’m bruised — across the stomach.

That said, I’m totally gonna do this again! A is actually signing up for a month at two classes a week. I wanted to sign up for one class a week, but I’d still have to pay the full price. Fuck that. If I do this twice a week, I won’t ever wanna work out with K and I’d rather do that. But I’m seeing at least two more private parties in my future this summer. Totally worth the cost 100%

Other Things from the day:

1) I wore my “What the Fucculent” Tshirt. I then went to the grocery store. It seems that people have to say it out loud to get it. The girl and the pharmacy LOVED it. She even called the other people over to see it. Then we discussed funny shirts for a good while. Cashier when I checked out started to mouth it and got offended. She was not humored. V liked it though!

2) Holy shit, I am so glad I did the tummy tuck and boobs. Before, I would have looked at these pictures and not been able to enjoy them. But now even when I see my self working out in the mirrors at the gym, I’m like “nice boobs.” Do I have a flat stomach? No. But damn, it has completely changed my shape. It used to go flat and then up. Now it’s a big hump and then flat. My thighs are massive, but that’s OK. I actually think I look good! Like I see pictures and I LIKE them. Even though I want to lose more weight, I’m still happy with the way I look. It’s so amazing because I’ve NEVER had that in my life. Tummy Tuck and Boobs — 100% worth it! Still skeptical about the arms. But tummy and boobs, all the way.

Twitch Twitch

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So you’re telling me that reading reddit on my phone for 9 hours a day for the past 4 weeks and freaking out about everything is bad for me?

I’m stressed. I’ve also still not got anything to do at my job. Not for lack of trying. So until I get access to the damn training system, I’m stuck. So I just play with my phone all day and monitor my emails hoping someone has a meeting I can attend. It’s causing eye strain. ‘Cause my phone is tiny.

And I’m already freaking out about our summer plans. Well, really my sisters. I’ve recently concluded that not only do I not actually like my sisters, but I hate who I become when I’m around them. Even Mr C says I get way more snippy around them. He understands — but the point is, it happens.

One sister was abusive as fuck growing up. I mean take your pick. She used to weigh me every day and I remember when I hit 100lbs and she ran to “tattle” on me to mom. And she was bulimic — but for some reason she threw up in 5 gallon buckets in her closet. Who had to help empty those buckets with mom? Yep. It was so gross and smelly. Ugh. And she’d wake me up hitting me and yelling. I liked to sleep with QVC on and I was allowed to. I’d turn it down to the lowest setting but she’d randomly come in my room and wake me up by hitting me and screaming at me because my TV was bothering her (no, our rooms weren’t even next to each other). So yeah, I’m a really fucking light sleeper now. Ask Mr C. And I still have nightmares about her. I’M FORTY. You have nightmares about Lovecraftian creatures? I have nightmares about my sister.

Then there was Smokey. My moms birthday present — a black mutt dog. That dog loved my ass. And he hated my sister for beating me He’d try to defend me. The only thing on the planet that actually gave two shits about me at the time (Mom had 4 jobs, give her a break). I’d sleep with mom a lot and Smokey would always sleep with me. And my sister has always had this weird thing about bugging mom (Seriously. In Florida, she cant go through the living room door to get to the balcony to smoke, she has to go into the master bedroom where mom is to go through THAT door. Same with the house on Golf Road. Couldn’t go outside through the kitchen — had to go through the door in moms bedroom. And when we were little — use the bathroom literally right next to her room? Nope — gotta go use the one in moms room on the other side of the house). So she’d come in moms room at night. And fuck if Smokey was gonna let her near me and mom if he had anything to say about. Even in the middle of the night. He was pretty awesome.

She started abusing Smokey too. After school, when mom was at her second job, she’d trap him in a blanket and throw him in a closet until right before mom got home. So I mean, Smokey hated her. It was a problem cause Smokey would draw blood. So one day I got home and no Smokey. I asked what happened to him and Dad joked about how he finally tied him up and drug him out in the woods behind the house and shot him.

Yeah, fun memories. Mom swears she gave him away. I never will really know though, will I? She was never able to present Smokey to me or let me visit him. Even when I begged for my wedding present to just let me see Smokey again. But she never changed her story. Anyway, that’s why people think I hate dogs. I won’t have one. Smokey was my dog. And I couldn’t protect him. And even if they did give him away, he didn’t know I had nothing to do with it. He lost his person. He was betrayed, might as well have been me. I hated having her over with Jack. I warned Mr C and mom that I didn’t want her near Jack. Ugh.

Then there was the time she wanted to kill me. I forget the reason, but I ran to my others sisters room to hide and locked the door. She tried to break the door down with a hammer. She beat a hole straight through the door before she gave up. It was like the fucking SHINING.

Then she just became a raging alcoholic. She’d get blackout drunk and pass out and piss herself where ever. Who had to get her into bed and clean it up? Oh that’s me. Unless she passed out on the lawn where at least there was not vomit or pee but “the neighbors might see.” (Like I said, Mom wasn’t perfect. We were best friends when mom died, but there were a lot of years where we were not close after I finally moved away). I was super into Christianity back then – total bubble Christian in high school. I didn’t even curse! And she’d get really blasted drunk and beg me to read the Bible to her. I’d refuse and she taunt me. I’m pretty sure girl has demons. Like I’m serious, yall. I may not be a bubble Christian anymore, but I’m still a Christian. Might as well have been a devil taunting me.

She also used threats of suicide and self harm as emotional abuse against us. She still self harms. Wears it proudly on her arm for all of us to see. Oddly enough she’s carved a cross into her arm. See the difference is, when I self harmed I hid it. Because I’m not an attention seeker — I was just really fucked up. So when I’d rip open my own skin, no one ever saw it. Cause I have standards. Pretty sure she’s still a raging alcoholic too. Last time I was at my sisters house (she lives with my other sister. Short story is Sister never left the nest — mom moved in the sister so other sister did too) So yeah, I sit down in moms bedroom chair thinking of mom. I look into her basket of books to see what she was reading… oh a giant bottle of alcohol. Don’t think that was moms… We used to do alcohol raids but it never did any good. Other sister says she’s letting the drinking slide because she’s afraid she’ll kill herself (They’re both in black holes since mom died).

She also drove drunk all the time which led to lots of accidents. Once she ran into a parked car and got arrested. She was sentenced to live in a halfway house. It was nice while she was gone. She was diagnosed with Antisocial Personality Behavioral Disorder. She came back though. Nothing ever changed.

It’s funny. This week a deep seated fear I haven’t had in over a decade resurfaced. I used to breakdown crying to mom that what if I was like her and didn’t know it? She doesn’t know she’s like she is! What if I’m like that? Ruining peoples lives and I don’t know it? What if I’m bat shit crazy and evil too? Really crazy people don’t KNOW they’re crazy, yall! I confessed this to my husband and said I turn into a different person around my sisters. I hate who I become. He admitted I do become really snippy when I’m around them — but he understands. Wait. I already said that.

Any way, other sister used to be cool. Growing up she was cool and loving. She was away at college and worked at TCBY and when she’d come home, she’d bring me a whole cup of the toppings like reeses pieces and shit. I think she’d send me cards sometimes too.

But the past few years she’s been insufferable. She’s ripped me off financially. She’s a bitch. And she absolutely ruined my Christmas. Killed it. I know she has an autoimmune disorder that causes her sever constant pain and fatigue. And she feels like she got stuck with other sister (even though she’s done nothing to kick her out). So she’s bitter as fuck. And it ain’t pleasant to be around.

Anyway it’s Florida year. I still like going to the beach. And I love my brother and his family and want to spend time with my nephews and keep moms favorite thing alive. Our yearly trips to Florida. But damn, I don’t think I wanna stay in the timeshare with my sisters this year. So I’m like should me and Mr C get our own place? Go in with my bro wherever they stay? It’s too early for my bro to commit if he’s going. But like I don’t wanna wait too late and not have anywhere to stay booked. So yeah, that’s brought all this shit up.

Whatever. It’s past my bedtime. I still gotta lay out medicine for the week! And get my twitchy eyed ass to bed! Lack of sleep is on the twitchy eye causes too! And see, that’s another difference between me and sister — I have a psychiatrist and take my medication and try to not let my personal crazy destroy everyone else’s lives.

Also I’m married. And we’re like in a healthy relationship. Surely husband would have left me by now if I was like her?

I need a valium. Don’t worry, I take 3 a day.

Oh and I want to look for a cat but it stresses me out SO MUCH. Friends, please find me a very needy cat that just wants cuddles and constant attention. I was thinking maybe contact fosters and see if any of them have a needy as fuck cat? Like I need fuzzy snuggles.

I’ll do it tomorrow.

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Man, I hate laying out my medication for the week. I use one of those weekly pill boxes that has little boxes for the different times of day. Oh here, one of these things:

‘Cause I take a lot of pills. I have two antidepressants, one antianxiety, two thyroid hormone replacements (’cause I aint got one), antacid, and three medications to try to make my hair grow. And some of these have to be taken multiple times a day (two times for the thyroid hormones, three times for the antianxiety and antidepressant). I also take a lot of vitamins. Iron (the “easy iron” that has a few more things like vit C to help you actually absorb the iron), B12, Magnesium, Calcium, D3, and a general multi vitamin). Oh and some don’t mix — like I can’t take iron at the same time I take my thyroid hormones because of the way they absorb. So yeah, you can’t just take all this shit out of the bottles, you gotta lay it out. But I never wanna lay it out.

So evening Mrs C is like “I’ll do it in the morning” and morning Mrs C is like “God damn my laziness.”

Which is basically all I wrote this post to say.

NOTES:

I kinda want to ditch the hair pills because I don’t feel like they’re doing anything for me anymore. But when I started them, I feel like they did something for me. If I stop, I’ll lose all the hair they did grow. So that sucks.

Don’t come at me with the vitamin speeches. I have been found deficient in my yearly blood work in D3, B12, and iron before. So I take those and my blood work has been great ever since. I started the salts supplement (magnesium and calcium) when I went Keto and now if I got without it for a while, I start getting leg cramps and restless legs. Plus a multivitamin is just like a bonus “and here’s the rest.”

Almost 20 years ago, during a physical, I was anemic (low iron). So that’s why I take it, right? And it hasn’t been a problem since. I just pop some iron and it’s fine. But it’s in my medical record to check it. I guess once you’re labeled anemic, you just keep the title? Like an award. Anyway, in my court case the lawyer REALLY wanted to hammer on the anemia and that that was the reason for my symptoms and not a traumatic brain injury.

I shut him down. Not in a I’m cooler than you way – I just kept saying no. So he kept asking me about it and I kept saying no. So much so that the judge told him to move on. Then in his closing arguments he made the argument that if you think anyone is lying, you can throw out their ENTIRE testimony as false and encouraged them to look at me records (all of my medical records were submitted as evidence). And they have my cool anemia title in them. My lawyer never addressed it for me to explain.

So I was under strict instructions to only answer what was asked of me by the other lawyer specifically and as succinctly as possible. Hence the “no” answers. But I was THIS close to laying it out. One, I take iron every day. Really though, I don’t have to. That’s because the main reason a lot of women get anemic is because of periods and then having to build our iron stores back up every month. But I don’t get periods because I’m on Mirana for birth control. I don’t even need it for birth control ’cause I had my tubes removed – but I like the no period thing. So I REALLY wanted to embarrass that motherfucker by discussing my periods and birth control in front of the full court room but I wasn’t allowed to and it makes me sad. The End.

Over here living my best life

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I’m sorry I haven’t been posting. I’ve got a few posts cued in my head to write but I’ve just been so tired. Between working out (which I didn’t even do last week) and working, I’m just beat. Work is a fucking grade-A tragedy right now. What a cluster fuck. I think the government is going to pull funding on our contract for real. I’m also worrying a lot about Jack — did he eat enough, is he in pain, is he breathing well? So that’s a lot of emotional energy. Oh and of course worrying about Mr C’s shoulder which I’ve had to keep clean and dressed – and is HE getting enough to eat too? So much emotional energy. And I feel like I have no time to just chill. Which isn’t true, but I’m just tired, yall. I’m tired. But not today!

Why not today? Because we died my hair pink! I’m absolutely in love with it. K’s mom did it this morning. I had such a great day! I went over to K’s house this morning and her mom dyed both our hair pink and K2 joined us just to hang out. Then, when we were going to head out, we were all hungry so I picked up Mr C and we went to this really cool screened patio between the new 5 Guys and Super Chix. Excellent day.

It’s been a busy weekend. I hate busy weekends but It’s been good! Friday was my off-Friday so I spent the morning getting all the vines off the house and trimming the bushes while Mr C was at the doc. I thought this would make Mr C very happy since he’s mentioned those damn vines a couple of times but it did not. He wasn’t unhappy — he was just “meh” about it. So that was a wasted effort. It would have had to be done eventually, but it didn’t have to be done on my day off. Oh well. The house looks excellent. Especially, with all my Fall decorations! I put up Norbert and the pumpkins and mums in the entry way are on point. I love pulling up in the driveway to see them. And I’m very proud of how nice the yard and bushes look. Some times I wonder if Mr C realizes how much I do, but I guess you just gotta do it for yourself. And I like how it makes me feel.

Also Saturday was October first! And how did we celebrate? Well K and K2 came over and we watched Hocus Pocus 1 and then the new Hocus Pocus 2! Then we went to Pinots Pallet and painted BAT CATS!

Thats my bat cat on the right with the last Halloween one we did three years ago on the left.

So good weekend. Yep, yep. And a great agenda coming up. Circus on Thursday! Not the mean-animal kinda. It’s the fun acrobatic, holy-shit-how-did-they-do-that kind. And Mr C and I are having professional photos done on Saturday for our upcoming tenth wedding anniversary! And whats so close that it’s showing up in my google calendar? THE START OF MY SLEEVE TATTOO!

So yeah, I’m tired and emotionally exhausted but life is good. Real good. I mean, the cats dying so that’s harsh, but it’s part of having a pet. You get to pour all of your love into them and then they… well, they don’t last forever. I’ve chosen the urn for his ashes. All that’s left is to keep him comfortable and to try to give him the best last days we can. With lots of extra kisses and snuggles.

Killing It

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I signed up for Planet Fitness today. I went with K. I stopped crossfit last November for my surgeries. Now I’m getting back into working out. So I had my husband take a “before shot” this morning. I’ve gained 20lbs from not working out and recovering from surgeries. But holy shit, look at me! The red is TODAY. 20lbs HEAVIER.

I look great. I’m used to just looking at my body naked and all the imperfections, but I’m looking good in my sports bra and leggings. Plastic Surgery A+!

So the November shot I was around 245lbs and at the strongest I’ve probably ever been. Today’s shot, the red sports bra, I’m 265lbs and have no muscles at all. Wow.

I age well. With enough plastic surgery 😉

Some Things 08/05

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OK, It’s been a bit, I should post. Really this week was just hard. I’ve just been getting through. I’m tired, I don’t wanna go to work. I’m just getting through. But today was super nice. It was my off Friday. I had an appointment (AKA complete waste of time) with the dermatologist about my hair. He asked if I had any side effects from the medications. I don’t. He said awesome, see you in six months. So glad I drove across town and paid $50 for that.

1) Speaking of long week, people be driving crazy after work. I was behind a car at a green light that didn’t realize it was green. Probably messing with their phone. Coincidence had us both traveling the same way for a while. We were side by side on a main road and they weren’t slowing down for a red light. Now, these red lights are super short so a lot of us don’t slow down until the last minute because it’s likely to change before you get to it. But like, this person was pushing it. And they just breezed right through it. I swear to god, I don’t even think they knew they ran a red light. There was no braking of repentance after they blew through it — they just kept off into the sunset. People be crazy.

2) Mr C and I watched Season One of Stranger Things. It’s so good! Why have I not watched it?

3) I’m watching The Sandman now. It came out today. I’m 4 episodes in and loving it. I fear this is going to be another “Witcher” where I got out and buy all the books because I can’t wait for more.

4) My arms hurt. I got injections in my arm scars because they’ve keloided. Well, they hurt now. It sucks. I’ve been used to them being healed and not hurting and now they hurt again. It blows. Will this stuff even work? Does it take multiple injections? They’re all dark and bruised too. Lame.

5) Speaking of surgeries, boobs are still doing great. When I wear tight shirts, the janitor at work (who used to be a pharmacist in New York) tells me how great I look. She told me this again on Thursday so I ordered some more tight shirts. The Lane Bryant “Fit and Flare” shirts just look fantastic on me. I just can’t replace my whole wardrobe. I have a lot of good clothes that are a size too big. It’s not that I don’t want to wear the tight shirts.

And it’s weird. I’ve gained a lot of weight. But I still look rocking compared to before the surgeries. I have to keep telling myself, yeah the scale sucks — but damn, I’m looking good.

6) K2 has been coming over pretty much every weekend to do pool with me. It’s fantastic. I don’t really do pool by myself because it’s lonely. Especially with mom gone. So K2 coming over most off days has been awesome. Sometimes she just falls asleep in an eggplant, but it’s still good company.

By the way, the egg plants are dying. They’ve been on the way out for a bit but I was hoping they’d make it the rest of the summer. Naw, they need air at least every day now. Multiple times today. So I ordered two new ones.

7) I took out a yellow jacket nest today. Fuck those bastards. They were making a nest in my pool gate! Thank GOD K2 didn’t get stung. I had to take them down with spider killer ’cause I was out of wasp spray. There were at least 12 yellow jackets on there. I probably sprayed myself with cancer trying to keep them away from me. Fucking wasps.

8) Oh yeah, and my Family was in Florida this week. They all got covid. Covid Condo. Bro got it from work (he’s a doctor) and then tested positive when he got down there and gave it to everyone else. Sucks, man.