Category: Health

Attack of the Anxieties

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I’ve been known to have anxiety and panic attacks. I take medication for it. Valium, to be specific. One of my friends was amazed at how much valium I take, but I used to be agoraphobic, okay? I’m basically brought to you by psychiatric drugs.

Anyway, today I had a total anxiety attack. It started at work and I knew it was coming on hard so I peaced the fuck out. I teared up a bit in the car and came home to give my sweet husband the hug I needed. He asked what was wrong and I was like I just needed to hug you and the cat. And when I started blabbering the huge amalgamation of what was wrong, one thing stood out more than the rest: mom.

Last night we discussed Mr C’s work trip coming up. Well, mom always visited when Mr C went on work trips. Mom always felt like she was going to be a burden so she was insanely careful not to step on toes. However, when Mr C went away for work, she knew she would be doing me a favor by visiting. I get to spend time with her, she cooks me delicious dinners that Mr C doesn’t like (hello, meatloaf and hamburger steak and canned corned beef sandwiches), and there’s no way she could be bothering Mr C. So she always came up for his work trips. And he’s going on a work trip. And moms not coming.

Of course, Mr C told his sobbing wife that he could cancel. However, him going on a trip isn’t a problem. And of course I could ask a friend (especially K) to come stay with me — but it’s not about having to stay by myself. It’s not him being gone or me being lonely, it’s mom not being here. He’s going to go away and It’ll just be… me. Without momma. We always loved hanging out together when it was just us. Like a little vacation. No more mom. No more little vacations while Mr C is gone. No more momma.

And to make things even more awkward — the day Mr C comes back is the day his parents will be coming to spend the night — on my sweet mommas birthday. Her first birthday when she’s not here. And when I feel like I should be mourning not having my mom — or maybe making a special treat in honor of mom (hello pumpkin cream cheese muffins), I’m going to be celebrating my in laws. It’s going to feel a bit blasphemous. So is Christmas. Christmas in any form will feel blasphemous. She died on Christmas Day. This year is Christmas with the in laws. Ugh. But at some point I’m going to have to suck it up and embrace Christmas again. Just wish it wouldn’t be so soon. Mom LOVED some holidays. So not going all out for the holidays would be a disgrace to her memory.

That said, I did put up Norbert the dragon for Halloween, but I won’t be decorating the inside. I just don’t feel it. I doubt I’ll feel Christmas either.

*sigh* (again, I actually took a deep sign before I typed that).

I do have a lot of anxieties going on right now. Everything running the gauntlet of petty: what if I can’t take the pain of my tattoo and I wuss out? To what if I can’t take the stomach surgery? What if it gets infected or I get botched or I DIE? I’m interviewing for new jobs — two interviews this week. Mr C’s in a hole of despair hating his own job. Work sucks, obviously, for both of us. The lawsuit from my injury is finally coming up and we calculated that if we win the MAXIMUM we can ask, we won’t make enough to cover one of the plastic surgeries — much less a small fraction of what I lost in wages. Not even the gap in the pay cut I took for this new contract. We are not making it out well, and that’s if we win the max. Thank God the lawyer only gets paid by how much we win. And I’ve got a house guest. So I’m anxious about is the house clean enough — does the bedding smell bad? Am I too in her face? I don’t wanna be invasive.

Oh and one of the new friends that had best friend potential — yeah turns out not so much. She supports some things I just can’t look past. I’m so damn judgemental. This is why I only have three true friend peeps.

Anyway, I got out before I cried at work. I came home and hugged my sweetie (the husband, not the cat) and bawled about mom — or more accurately, the lack of mom. Then I took a nap with my cat. Now I’m cathartically writing it all out. Then I’m going to the circus. Yep. But the people kind, not the animal kind. Cheers!

Some Things 9/23

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1) It’s hard having friends at work.  Are they asking why you’ve been a funk the past few days because they care or because you’re not getting enough shit done?  I honestly don’t know and that bothers me. 

2) This could be fixed by getting another job.  This would also fix the suffering working with DeBitch has brought into my life.  It’s hard working with someone who hates your guts.  Real hard.  So I applied for a new job today.  They reached out to me so, I just replied.  I’m also gonna submit my transition team paperwork that was emailed to me today as well (to transfer to a new contract with my current company).  Maybe both of these coming to my email at the same time is a sign – move on. 

3) Talked to my lawyer today – terrible news.  We’re not going to get much money at all out of this lawsuit.  We will come out making just a little over the 7k they offered to settle with me.  But you know what?  It’s gonna cost those fuckers like 200k for me to get it so SUCK IT BITCHES.  Good thing Mr C and I weren’t counting on making money back. 

I had secretly hoped it would cover my plastic surgery plus a sweet tattoo, but alas – it will not even cover one of the surgeries.  *sigh* (I just want you to know, I literally sighed heavily as I typed the word “sigh”)

4) Some good news?  Well, I kicked ass at Crossfit on Tuesday.  I JUMP ROPED.  Oh it sound so small and simple but is it?  I’m 37, I can’t even remember ever jump roping and I certainly couldn’t do it 2 months ago.  But I can now, bitches!  I also did my knee tucks hanging from the pull up bar rather than laying on the floor.  Awww yeah.  Gains bitches! 

Some Things 9/19

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1) Today was my twentieth crossfit workout (not including the four on-boarding classes). I have a baby bicep. I also think I could possibly jump rope. I can hop now which is better than I could before! I can lift weights, I can plank, I can squat, and I can sweat. I can sweat a lot. The other day, a fellow crossfitter though I had poured water on myself. Yeah, no that’s just sweat.

2) I have watched way too many plastic surgery “journeys” on youtube. Like a lot. Too many. I’m obsessed with knowing everything and now I feel like I know too much. In fact, now I have a bazillion questions for the doctor. I’m worried about making Christmas and my court date. I’m worried I’ll be bloated and swollen for a year. I’m getting a lot of anxiety.

Don’t worry, I’m not thinking of backing out. Nope. Imagine that crossfit hopping with my tummy. I have a sport bra for the boobs, but nothings holding that loose baggy stomach in place while I jump up and down. It hurts and I’m sure its unattractive. Thank you, no mirror rule.

I did manage to get another consultation with the doctor. But not until the end of October. Over a month away. But I feel like I want to really be comfortable with him before we proceed. And I have questions. He lists a lot of liposuction — won’t all that lipo compromise the blood supply to the new “flap”? And how much improvement are we really gonna see? Also, do I need a Fleur De Lei as opposed to the regular we talked about? I don’t want a vertical scar, but I think I may need one. Scars are not my primary concern. I’m not looking to wear a two piece bathing suit here. And when can I get back to working out? Most people say a little less than 2 months — but they’re wearing their compression garments and swelling up at 6 months and longer — so ???

3) My precious Jack had his vet visit a little over a week ago. I keep hoping with every visit that his levels will improve, but realistically, I know they won’t. Getting them to hold steady is the best we can hope for. His levels did get slightly worse — but not enough to worry the doctor. She says he may find a new “zone” and stay there. He hasn’t lost any weight so that’s excellent but I still with he’d eat more. I worry about him. I wish I could get him to eat more and drink more. But he”s not LOSING weight which is key.

Oh we are gonna nail this recovery out of spite.

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I’m starting to get a little pissed at everyone’s lack of faith in how I will recover from these surgeries (tummy tuck and arm lift). Everyone’s like “who’s going to take care of you!” — yall, I’M MARRIED. Listen, Mr C plays video games 24/7. We know yall think he’s a bum. But it’s not like he’s gonna ignore my recovery needs. He has been to my appointments with me. He knows I’ll need help getting up from the chair and going to the bathroom and that I won’t be able to pick up even the cat. We’ve discussed that he’ll have to help me with the cats medications. I’ll have to teach him how to put on my compression garments. He’s not a fucking moron. I’m not an infant, I’m still a human that can yell “hey, I have to go to the bathroom.” But my family and his have just acted like he’s useless and I’m getting fucking pissed. Even his momma was like “who’s gonna take care of you!?”

Yall, we’re gonna nail this recovery out of spite at this point. You’re not just questioning my husband at this point, you’re questioning my decision making and planning and I kinda feel like my choice of husband at this point. I’m insulted. Yes, my sister-in-law is going to come up for the first week — but that’s because I’ll be 100% helpless and Mr C will still be working from home. I don’t want to wake him up in the middle of the night and have him help me get up and walk every 2 hours because he needs to rest for work and he’s having a rough time at work right now. But that doesn’t mean we couldn’t handle this by ourselves if we had to.

My sister even suggested I recover down there (1.5 hours away). NO. You can’t even take care of yourself, what are you taking about? And yeah, having your giant untrained dog trying to jump in my OPEN WOUND LAP would be fantastic. And having to dodge her with a walker — no problem! What the fuck are yall thinking?

Listen, this is rude — but lesser people than I have had this surgery. Fucking morons that wonder if they should still be in pain 2 weeks later have had this shit done (Oh no, they just cut you in half and sewed you back together! You’re in pain? SHOCKER). People with small children have had this done. People with no support have had this done. We’ve got this.

I’m renting a medical power lift recliner that will help me stand up. I’m renting a walker. I’ll have multiple types of compression garments. I have time to prep. It’s not like I cook gourmet dinners every night. Mr C can make me some eggs or put some meatballs in the microwave for me. And we have friends who could make me some chicken if I ask.

I know it’s going to be miserable hell. I expect this. I’ve seen videos of lots of women who have video logged their journey. Some are peppy and up after 1 week, some are in hell after one week. No idea where I will fall on that spectrum. But I’m strong, yall. I’m not a pussy. I think the hardest part is going to be mental. It’s going to be me restraining myself. It’s going to be me asking for help and waiting for that help rather than just doing it myself and ripping open a stitch in the process.

I also think this crazy crossfit is going to benefit me a lot. One, my body is healing faster and faster after each workout. Two, my squats have gone from using a 24inch box, to a 16 inch bench to a 12 inch box to nothing. That leg strength will really help while my core is out of commission. I’m not even jinxing this by saying it — I got this. You have no idea how much I’ve done under the power of anger and spite alone. I got this. WE got this.

It’s Happening!

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So after the plastic surgery consultation, I had to talk to Mr C.  Obviously, I’m 100% for it.  I wants it [sic on purpose because I’m Gollum and I wants it, dammit].  The question is just when for me.   When can I have it?  Mr C has our purse strings (Don’t worry, we both wield equal powers, some of us are just better at certain things and therefore get to be in charge of them.  Mr C is excellent with finances. I am not) and this is a BIG chunk of coin. 

For Mr C, I think the biggest thing was how invasive it’s going to be.  I don’t think he realized just how fucked up I’m going to be – helpless, basically.  A tummy tuck itself is a painful minefield, I’m combining it with my arms!  How does one get up if you can’t use your arms or your abs either?  Well, one does CrossFit to get in shape for this shit.  One might use a blanket you can pull me up with without having to touch me.  I’m not a pioneer here, lesser people have done this and survived.  For me the only booo was that I’ll be wearing drains for two to three weeks!  Ugh.  I knew I’d be wearing drains and was actually thankful they would just be my stomach and not on my arms too – but three weeks?  I’m going to have to get over the creepiness of a port TO MY INSIDES.  Anyway, we’ll manage.  I might have to request a helper join us for a day or three to help Mr C take care of me while I get my bearings.  But we’ll manage. 

So?  MR C SAID BOOK IT! 

Fuck yeah, he did!  I’m having plastic surgery on December 1st!  My arms ‘gonna be skinny and my pudge ‘gonna be gone!  I’m ‘gonna be so sexy.  Then I’m ‘gonna go back and get boobs latter!  Yall better watch out!  Next summer: nothing but tank tops.  No sleeves, bitches!  And all kinds of cleavage hanging out of everything.  You’ll live with it.  Fifty’s dresses galore!

Next year is our tenth anniversary too!  A few years ago, when I wanted to make my wedding dress into a piece of art we could actually use – Mr C wouldn’t let me.  He thought it’d be nice to take pictures again one day — like our anniversary.  Oh that baby is getting altered to hell and back!  I’m much skinner and my boobs are going to be much bigger!  It’s going to look sooooo good.  I’m thinking a pumpkin patch or a sunflower field.  It’s going to be amazing! 

And we’re ‘gonna have a boobie party!  I’ve been talking about wanting plastic surgery forever.  While the stomach and arms are going to be the big things that matter the most to ME, personally… Come on, everyone’s just going to care about the boobs.  My friends, especially A, have been joking about throwing me a boob party.  Well bitches, it’s finally happening!  I’m thinking when the pool opens up next summer – I can get a super skanky low cut bathing suit.  And we will have a boobie coming out party!  I want a boob Mardi Gras necklace! 

I’M SO EXCITED! 

Plastic Surgeon Consultation

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So today Mr C and I went to see the plastic surgeon. It was strange. Most of it was the nurse telling me a million things I already knew. I’ve heavily researched what I want done so none of it was new. I know the recovery times, the scars, the areas they cut, the results to expect, the recovery time. I even celebrated when she mentioned exparel! Yeah, bitch I know that — it’s a pain blocker shot they inject directly into your muscles while they operate that lasts 3 days. $400, shoot me up, bitches! Less oral pain meds and gets you over that nightmare day 2 and 3. Hells yeah. You want me to leave the surgical tape on as long as possible, of course.

So then it was waiting around for the doctor. And sweating like crazy.

Oh wait — first were the terrible pictures of me in teeny tiny underwear that was way too small for my fat ass. One size does not fit all in the plastic surgeons office, ladies. Pictures of every angle, mostly butt naked, all up in my fat folds. Thanks. This is the photo shoot I always wanted. I felt a lot better having Mr C with me, actually. It was like we were suffering this craziness and embarrassment together. Awesome. I look forward to being in your photo albums.

Then was the waiting around for the doctor and sweating like crazy. I took off that stupid paper gown because paper doesn’t breath. And I asked for a paper blanket to cover up because again, one size doesn’t fit all, ladies. That “gown” had ties on it but they were for Barbie — they weren’t gonna go half way around my ass.

I think my nakedness freaked the doctor out. Which I didn’t get, I mean you’re here to look at and grab and poke at my fat rolls. But he insisted on “as much modesty as possible.” Not sure he liked me — but he likes my wallet so he couldn’t show it 😉

Oh, also, apparently Mr C doesn’t have curiosity about buttons and switches. While waiting, I discovered the switch that made the photo backdrop go up and down AND the volume control for the non existent music. That man lacks curiosity. It’s not the first time I’ve noticed it. He just isn’t inquisitive. He was like “I bet if you had a red button that said do not press. you’d press it.” Well, first I’d ask what it did. But yeah, you leave me alone long enough with no answer, that button is gonna consume my every thought.

Anyway — Surprisingly, the doctor 100% agreed with me! While doing the arms and stomach at the same time is frowned upon and not normally what he would do. He said he’d do it! I’m gonna be in a shit ton of pain for 2 weeks, but he’ll do it! Why? Well, he totally understood. For most people, boobs are their biggest concern. For ME, though — they’re last. My arms bother me the most. That’s followed by my stomach. my stomach pudge sticks out further than my breasts. It makes it look like I’m wearing skin tight pants even if they’re actually too big. It’s just always there flopping around. How can I make an educated decision about my boob size when my arms and stomach are so huge? I don’t know what I’m gonna look like at all! How much is my stomach going to go down? What will I want to balance out my ass? I might not go as big as I would now with this huge stomach. He understood this and agreed. Lets do the stomach and arms and then decide on the breasts!

Now the prices, they were a lot more than we expected. The stomach and arms are as much as we thought the whole kit-and-caboodle was gonna cost. So I’m all in, the question is with Mr C. He’s in charge of finances. So will he go for now or will he want to save up more…

To Be Continued.

So Anxious!

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Tomorrow is my appointment with the plastic surgeon. I’ve waited months for this. I haven’t lost any weight (though I’ve strengthened up with crossfit). So I’m really nervous. I’m afraid he’ll turn me away.

I’m so anxious! Will he agree to do any operation at all? Will be it be arms only or arms and tummy? If it’s the latter, can I handle that kind of recovery without my mom here to take care of me? Then again, he might say no all together. In which case I’ll be heart broken.

Will he be nice? Will he be an asshole? At least Mr C will be there with me for the naked awkwardness. Let’s pray the right decisions are made.

Some Things 8/15

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1) Yesterday I’m chillin’ in my pool with K3. I’m floating in an egg plant all nice and comfy and then… a motherfucking SNAKE brushed up against my arm! YES! A SNAKE! It was a tiny baby snake. Thankfully, nonpoisonous. I killed that motherfucker with a machete. Not cool, nature, not cool. There was also a tick and a dead mole in the pool. What the fuck? It’s a square of concrete filled with salt water. It’s not a river! Leave my shit alone! I hate nature. IT TOUCHED ME. Ugh. Now I’m gonna be super paranoid about checking every inch of the pool before I get in.

2) Cross fit continues. This week has been a real emotional rollercoaster for me. I’m not 100% sure why, it’s not my monthly cycle or anything. I’ve been in crossfit for a month this week. I’ve done 6 regular classes plus the 4 onboarding classes. But for some reason, Wednesday got to me. After Wednesdays work out I just felt pathetic. I felt embarrassed and ashamed. I wanted to quit. It was runs and barbells and I can’t do the runs (I’m subbing with bike) and I couldn’t get the damn push jerks right to save my life. All while I’m using the training bar and 2.5lb weights and some of these other bitches are slinging like 200lbs! And here I can’t do ANY OF IT. I just felt like I was setting myself up to be humiliated.

I’m working out surrounded by the fittest of the fit, and here my fat ass is in their space. They’re the sharks and I’m in their ocean. I really just felt humiliated and in deep fear of being mocked. I’ve been bullied a lot in my life. I’ve had people make rude comments about my weight even as an adult (down over 100lbs, now though!). So I actually cried about it. And with my monthly subscription coming up this week — I’d have quit if it weren’t for K2 and K3. I have two people supporting me and willing to make sure I never have to work out by myself. I’m blessed to be able to afford this expensive ass gym. I can’t squander this opportunity.

Friday’s workout was better. K3 is super supportive and motivated. She also somehow enjoys working out so she has a great energy. So we finished 3 team rounds of the impossible. I did over 30 burpees! Plus 26lb hang cleans and rowing. Today we did more barbells (hang snatches) and pull ups (I sub ring rows) with K2. So I’m still totally failing at the bar LOL — I just can’t master the moves. I’m thinking so hard about all the little specifics that make up the move that I can’t do it. I’m in my head too much and can’t do the move fast enough to get it all timed right. But I looked up youtube videos beforehand to try and get it worked out. So I’m getting better.

Also one of the youtube videos broke down crossfit as a whole a little bit. They acknowledged how hard it is to be in there with all these athletes slinging mega weights. They discussed how it’s easier to go to a normal gym and feel less judged. But then he discussed how it’s better to learn form these people correctly slinging all that weight so they can teach you how to get there. And to take advantage of your coaches who want to help you get there too. So I asked lot of questions tonight. And I tried to mingle a little more. I even reminded my onboarding coach to put up my intro picture on the website so I can get to know people more. Here’s to another month starting this week! I’ve got my ripstop cream and I’m sitting here recovering with my compression socks on and a compression knee sleeve on my terrible knee and some turkey meatballs. Thanks to my chickas K2 and K3 who have no idea how much they mean to me right this second in my life. I’m so thankful.

3) We spread moms ashes. Part one. She wanted to be spread at the beach and in the mountains. Well, the first week of August is my families yearly vacation to Florida. We’ve got a time share and we’ve done it every year since I was a baby. (Except that now we alternate our vacations each year with my family vs Mr C’s family trip). Florida was moms thing. She loved it. It was her place. She could just sit on the beach all day with her toes in the waves. She slept with the balcony door cracked so she could listen to the waves. She had coffee on the balcony with the sunrise over the ocean.

Being down there without her was beyond difficult. But we did good and we spread her ashes at sunrise. We went to her (well, the whole family’s) favorite breakfast spot and crossed over the a public beach area. With the smell of her favorite apple fritters in the air and the colors of an ocean sunrise, we threw flowers in the water. I hope you loved it, momma. I miss you so so much. *wipes away tear*

Rope Burns and Blisters

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So this week was my first week of Crossfit General Population (GP). I was out of town until Tuesday so K3 and I went to our first regular classes on Wednesday and Friday. I was able to do some sort of scaling for everything so really proud of myself and got a hell of a workout both times. Like, I was dead both times.

Wednesday was rope climbing, rowing, and zercher carries. Instead of climbing, I did walk ups — where you lay on the ground and pull yourself up by climbing the rope (and in my case getting up on my legs to shift some of that weight asap). Then I also did J hangs, which is the way you position your feet to hold your weight while you’re climbing. We did it from sitting on a box. I was able to swing on the rope! Go me! Spidermaning it! This is where K3 and I both earned our rope burns. So THATS why they all had leg protection on. Then I used the 35lb bag for the zercher carry. Man that killed my arms. I’m gonna zercher carry my pool salt to the pool now.

Friday was muscle up pull ups, double unders (jump rope), and rowing. So I did ring rows where I lean back and pull myself up to the rings instead of pull ups. I did the row to 20 calories rather than the Rx 24. And I can’t jump rope so I did a step to weight. It was kinda hoppy alternating which leg I hopped on the weight with. Three rounds. This was the most ass kicking I’ve had yet. I felt a bit nauseous after it. Blisters on my hands from the ring rows too.

So far I like the crossfit. I like the group workout and that it’s got a cutoff time. There’s no hour long workout — you workout until the clock is done or you finished early. If you didn’t finish, too bad. I also like that there are options for my out-of-shape ass to do and still get a good workout in. Also the coaches vary a lot. I’ve had 3 coaches now. For sure liked the Friday coach the best. He was super good about giving us lots of options. He also showed us the proper form for every option before the work out. And he didn’t ignore those of us who were really toned down on the scale. Even though I was only doing ring rows, he came over to correct my form. The Wednesday coach was far less interested in those of us doing the low scaled options. Like, in the zercher carry, I just couldn’t hold my arms at 90 degrees by the end. She didn’t even try to encourage me to try to get them up. Not on any of my 3 carries.

I still wouldn’t go by myself. There’s just so many attractive women who are perfectly in shape. I feel like a mean girls high-school thing is gonna happen. Logically, I know it won’t. But I still feel like I’m just invading these peoples space. A few of the “regular” girls introduced themselves to me and were super nice. One of them was there for both Wednesday and Friday and she was really intimidating in the looks department, but I liked that she refused to even try a rope climb or a pull up LOL. I’m with you, hot chick. None of the super buffs have said hi yet. I feel like the super body-builder type women are looking down on me. It’s most likely totally not true, but I’m self conscious. Even though I really don’t find their body builder build aesthetically attractive, they scare me. I’m very attuned to the possibility of being made fun of.

So three weeks down. I’m going to try Sunday, Wednesday, Friday this week and Monday, Wednesday, Friday next week. I’ll settle on one of those.

CrossFit Continues

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Still doing CrossFit! Mostly because other people are doing it with me and I invested too much money to bail. But hey, I’m doing it. I’ve got my 4th and last one-on-one with the trainer in 45 minutes. It’s been interesting. Some things I’m better than I expected to be but most things I’m just so not capable. Like if we just had to do stretches — WINNING! Bitches I can get lower than all yall, apparently. Other things, not so much. I can’t jump rope. I can’t even do step thrus! It keeps getting caught on my shoe. God, I’m so inept!

It’s so embarrassing. And of course you’re surrounded by the fittest of the fit going about their shit and I just feel in the way. I have, however, come to accept that I just sweat like aint nobodys business. But so does everyone else. Cause these people are hard core. Tuesday, one of those guys should have just been in a wet tshirt contest.

So Wednesday will be my first general-populace-workout. Lord, that’s gonna be a shit show for sure. How far down can we scale these workouts? Like I mean real low. Box jumps, I’m doing step ups. My step up is 12 inches. My workout buddy’s box jump is 24 inches. Holy shit! Girl can jump. I can’t even jump rope! Can we just stick to stretches and warm-ups where I don’t feel foolish? Please? I feel like a dumpster fire.

Speaking of dumpster fires, it’s 96 degrees today. Yeah, lets go work out in that! Not like heat stroke is a thing! Lord help me.