A Game Of Inches

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(Warning: Young children, those easily offended, and those preferring not to engage in/read about human reproductive activity should probably just skip today's blog. You have been warned!)

During your bariatric surgery preparations, and probably forever afterwards, you are going to be friends with the measuring tape. You will get to be astonished as you watch your hips and stomach shrink due to fat reduction, and depressed as your arms and calves do the same things due to muscle loss. It is a useful tool to keep track of unexpected muscle loss, ongoing fat burning, and (eventually) stabilization as your body gets used to your new digestive system and dietary practices.

However, I have been noticing in recent weeks that, while most of me is reducing in size, one area in particular is apparently gaining. Positive that I must just be hallucinating, I went in search of answers.

And I found some very startling ones: apparently weight loss in males has an unusual side effect - for every 30 pounds of weight (or so) lost, the apparent size of the penis grows by about an inch. Now, I know from my limited understanding of biology that the human genitalia isn't supposed to get larger over time - what you have is what you have. (Look up "penis enlargement" some time on Google to see how popular the subject is.) So, what gives?

It works something like this: Imagine a six-foot pole, set up as a fence post so that only 5 feet of it are exposed. If the fence isn't maintained, dirt, leaves, and other debris gather around the base of the pole. Enough gathering of "stuff" around the base, and eventually you can only see the top 2 feet or so of the post. When your spouse gets after you enough and you get out in the back yard with your rake and your shovel, after a few hours you can see all 5 feet again.

So, the post is the male genitalia, the debris is the fatty deposits in your abdomen (due to your lack of maintenance), and the rake and shovel are your surgery and your lifestyle changes. All of a sudden, that fence post appears to be growing.

Every 30 pounds of weight loss works out to exposure of another inch of your equipment that had previously been inaccessible due to fatty deposits. As of today (I checked) I was down to 240 pounds - a total loss of 62 pounds since I started this process.

I will let you do the math.

But, the really startling thing is that I am not done losing weight yet. My target weight (according to my doctor, mind you) is 185 pounds! That is nearly twice what I have lost already. Seriously, now - a potential weight loss of 117 pounds, divided by 30 works out to 3.9 inches! Imagine the possibilities...

Now why, for heaven's sake, is this not being marketed as one of the major benefits of weight loss surgery? It was never mentioned to me by anyone on my surgical team. I have frequently remarked on the lack of males undergoing this process - roughly 2 men to every 8 women go through with bariatric surgery. Talk up the fact that you can increase the size of your equipment as a result of this surgery and there will be lines of men out the door and around the corner waiting to sign up.

That's just how men are. Despite what all the pundits and well-meaning sexual partners may tell you, size matters. Heck, did anyone watch the Republican debates? These were men competing to be the leader of the most powerful nation in the world, comparing sizes on national television. It isn't just for locker rooms in high school.

Bariatric surgery needs to get behind this as a marketing device immediately. You know, for the health and well-being of all my fellow overweight men.

Yeah, we'll go with that.

Patting Myself On The...Back For Having Weight-Loss Surgery,

- Hawkwind

Pre-op Prep

Day 4 of the liquid diet. I grow crankier and dumber by the minute, it seems. The weird thing is, I don't feel particularly upset at any given moment. But, whenever I am interacted with, my responses all seem to come out of the "annoyed" section of my vocabulary. Lor has been very tolerant, and has not cut my head off and buried me in the backyard.

Yet.

In the midst of this not-so-great emotional adjustment, I got to travel across town for my pre-operative appointment yesterday. This was a new experience for me - during Lor's pre-op appointment I was in a nutritional appointment, so I missed the whole thing. I imagined tons of highly technical information that I was going to completely misunderstand due to my current brain fog.

Luckily, the appointment was nothing more than a re-hash of all the experiences we just went through with Lor's surgery. On the day of the surgery, I will consult with the anesthesiologist and my surgeon. They will roll me back to a surgical suite and inject me with something that will put me to sleep. They will then inflate my abdomen like a beach ball so the surgeon has lots of room to work in. They will punch a hole in me to correct my hiatal hernia, then punch 5 more holes in me to perform to the removal of the "greater curvature of my stomach." I will then be returned to the hospital room to recover for 48 hours.

I was struck by how much the pre-surgical briefing minimizes the actual trauma they will be inflicting on you. True, they will not be slicing me open like a dissected frog in biology class. But they will still be leaving me with the equivalent of 5 shank wounds and a puncture from a belt knife. I have read many testimonials of people who say they were back at work immediately after their surgeries. Quite frankly, I don't understand how. Lor is only now getting back to where she can bend or flex at the abdomen comfortably, and she is 4 weeks out from her surgery as of yesterday.

Speaking of 4 weeks out, Lor got to have her 4-week post op appointment yesterday while I was having my pre-op appointment. (That is how closely we scheduled these surgeries.) She has been returned to the land of Those Who Can Eat Real Food. Her visit to Trader Joe's yesterday was a lot like a child being taken to a candy store. I have never seen someone so excited about the prospect of eating salmon, bananas, and kale chips.

After my 6 weeks without real food, I am sure I will have a whole different perspective on that too.

Ready To Have My Brain Turned Back On,

- Hawkwind

How To (Not) Write A Successful Blog

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As someone who writes a blog, I tend to read a lot of other blogs. It perpetually amazes me how many blogs are not about people's lives, thoughts, or experiences. No, the great majority of the blogs out there right now are focused on...wait for it...telling other people how to write a blog.

I've looked over many of these other sites, and have come away with two potential conclusions. Either I don't have the slightest idea what I am doing, or everyone else in the blogosphere is out of their minds. See, the most successful writers out there are making suggestions on using their platform to make money by telling people how to create a blog that will tell other people how to make money writing articles talking about using your blog to make money.

Go ahead and read that sentence a couple times, if you need to. Essentially, it works out to being a pyramid scheme at worst, or a distributor/representative kind of relationship at best. The product being sold is nothing more than the idea that you can be successful selling the idea. It spins the head right around, but that is not preventing people from shelling out money to buy guides on how to achieve success.

Why, on Earth, am I tackling this subject? I've finally gotten one too many emails from supposedly well-meaning souls who claim they have read Misdirected and want to sell me their special guide (for anywhere from $.99 all the way to $49.99) telling me how to fix it. Curious, I have gone in search of some of this information for free, and I have learned I am making the following mistakes:

"Misdirected comes out too regularly." Apparently, I should be "reserving" my content for publication only one day a week. I should write down post ideas as they come up, but not share them immediately. I should spend the rest of the week after writing my one article out on social media, promoting my special single article for that week.

"Misdirected articles should be in a bulleted or numbered list." Called "listicles", I have written a few of these for other blogs and websites. Not sure how that would translate here: "5 Things That Lead To Obesity" or "3 Ways to Not Fall Off The Roof of Your House", perhaps?

"Misdirected should contain a lesson and end in a challenge." Hmm. How about "Overeating leads to obesity. Now put down this blog and head to the gym!" Is that about right?

Seriously, now, folks. I write Misdirected more as a journal than an advertisement. It is a conversation I have 4 days out of every 7, with about a thousand people a month. I included AdWords support a few months back, yes, but that is probably about as far as I want monetization to go. I have no desire to start heavily promoting the blog - what would I say? "Obese person records his life! Film at 11!"

Thanks to everyone who is reading Misdirected due to their interest in the journey Lor and I are taking through Bariatric Surgery. I have no intention of embracing the "fix your blog" advice I get on a daily basis, but if you want to write your own blog, feel free to use the tips above to drive your creation to many thousands of hits a day.

You know, no charge.

Monday Is Liquid Diet Day,

- Hawkwind

Slow And Steady Wins The Race

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It is a story most of us heard growing up. The slow and patient turtle wins a race against the quick and agile bunny by virtue of putting his head down and continuing to keep moving while the bunny screws off doing a multitude of things that are not related to winning the race. While I always questioned why the bunny didn't finish the race first and then go amuse himself, the example holds true even today, in our pursuit of long-term weight loss.

Consider this: this is not my first rodeo when it comes to trying to lose weight. I have tried Weight Watchers, Nutrisystem, Atkins and a version of Paleo (back when it was still called "The Caveman Diet".) I was always able to lose 10 - 20 pounds fast. After that: nothing. I would then embrace my guiding philosophy: "If at first you don't succeed, quit." Needless to say, the weight instantly returned.

Now, making dietary and lifestyle changes in preparation for bariatric surgery, we have had more success that ever before, mainly due to the slower speed of our weight loss. Lor's sudden weight loss spike since her surgery notwithstanding, we have actually been  maintaining a pretty decent rate of "healthy body recovery" (also known as "weight loss".) It has been 22 weeks since we started this process with my terrifying discovery that I weighed over 300 pounds back on February 2. As I mentioned yesterday, as of this week we have collectively lost 100 pounds. Do a little math (something like 100 divided by 22 weeks then further divided by 2 people) and it turns out that we have been losing, on average 2.27 pounds a week. According to the CDC, this number falls right into the "healthy weight loss" category.

Other demonstrations of "slow and steady" progress? Back in February, it took me around 25 minutes to walk .44 miles a day (the exact mileage of walking the dog around the block one time.) This would leave me covered in sweat, gasping for air, and exhausted for the rest of the evening. Today, in 45 minutes, I can cover 2 miles. The runners among you may be chuckling at this mile every 22 minutes speed, but remember:  back in February I was managing the brisk pace of 1.05 miles per hour. 4 months later I am almost up to average human walking speed of 3 miles an hour. As far as the 45 minutes goes - that is as far as Vixen's furry little legs will take her. We have discussed, once Lor is back in fighting trim, hauling the dog once around the block, then dropping her off at the house and walking another 45 minutes or so, to get in a full hour of walking a day.

Our walking speed should also increase from not having to stop while Vixen sniffs every bush, bag, and foreign object that looks like it might be edible.

Even Misdirected is showing the results of slow and steady. Maintaining a posting schedule of 4 posts a week, every week, we have grown from about 20 occasional readers to almost 50 daily readers. We will occasionally have really big spikes (like the day of Lor's surgery), but nearly 50 people are checking in on a daily basis to see what is happening here. This is with no marketing as such - any readership increases are coming strictly by word of mouth, people sharing the fact that there is some dude talking about he and his wife going through bariatric surgery.

Patience has not been my strong point over the years. But, maybe, learning to re-adjust to a changing body and diet is what it takes to learn to wait for other positive changes in life. Maybe this is a sign of developing maturity and spiritual awareness?

Nah. I still hate driving in the slow lane.

At Least I Passed That Lazy Bunny,

- Hawkwind 

The Century Mark

I have said many times within the pages of Misdirected that weight is not important to Lor and I. That it is only a number, that the importance of weight loss comes from improved health, enhanced mobility and energy, and a better quality of life.

Please allow me to step away from that well-reasoned thinking for a moment, to make an announcement.

Ahem.

"100 FREAKING POUNDS!!!!"

You read that right - as a couple, Lor and I have lost one hundred pounds as of our weigh-in today.

When we began this process, added together, our total weight was over 550 pounds. No wonder our bed creaked at night, even lying perfectly still. We were carrying the weight of an extra (tall) adult male between the two of us.

Lor's weight loss was already remarkable, even before the surgery. Since the surgery, she managed to average an additional pound of weight loss a day. I, of course, had a bit of a step back last week, but reclaimed that weight and lost another pound on top of that in the last week. 

Our Nutritionist warned us that those who lose quite a bit of weight before surgery might experience a dramatic slow-down in weight loss post-surgery. But, even if that should occur, I am already within 10 pounds of my original goal of losing "around 50 pounds". Lor has not needed a single dose of insulin since leaving the hospital. I feel better than I have in years. Lor will too, once the holes in her stomach finish healing up and she can re-graduate back to soft foods. (I have never seen a person crave refried beans more.) She has already gained back her mobility, and just needs to start working on her stamina.

I am not sure what to expect from here, honestly. Another 100 pounds of joint weight loss would put us into uncharted waters - Lor would weigh right around what she weighed at 17 years old. I would be somewhere in the neighborhood of 200 pounds. I have never been at a stable weight of 200 pounds, having gone from around 160 to 225 somewhere in my early twenties, the weight arriving as I also grew about 4 inches taller. (Can you say late bloomer?)

Lor and I make sure to keep telling each other: "Now comes the hard part." Losing weight has never been an issue for either of us. Keeping the weight off - now that is where the rubber meets the road. But we have each other to keep us both honest, to enforce workouts, to police one another's dietary habits. Unless we collectively decide to give up on this, I have faith in our success.

Wishing I Could Hug Lor Without Injuring Her,

- Hawkwind

PS - 28 days till my surgery. Not that I am counting, or anything.

Patient Zero

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(This special Saturday edition brought to you courtesy of Friday getting away from me!)

Since the beginning of Misdirected's conversion to a full-time weight-loss surgery blog, I have attempted to keep track of everything. How I felt, what I thought, what was happening to me both inside and outside. It was a journaling experience of sorts, that has gradually turned into a journal that gets shared with several hundred people every week.

However, now that we have had a real, live surgery in the family, I have stopped paying a whole lot of attention to what is going on in my life, and am almost totally focused on what is happening to Lor post-surgery. Pain, discomfort, and diet have all been dutifully logged. Her times of energy vs. her times of exhaustion. Her doubts are measured against her optimistic periods. All carefully cataloged, and much of it recorded here.

It is no secret why I am doing this, of course: My own surgery is exactly a month from today, and I want to know what to expect. Our nutritionist laughed during my last visit, and told me I would be the best-prepared surgical patient ever, thanks to my observations of Lor. It seems kind of heartless, really, sending my wife into the trenches before I ever get there. We had a pretty well thought-out plan for why we scheduled things the way we did, but every day I wonder if we chose the correct order. I just know that I am glad to be 100% healthy and able to care for her while she is recovering from surgery and settling into her new life. And if I get to pay close attention to see what is coming down the road for me, surely that is an unintended "bonus", and not my nefarious plan all along, right?

As it turns out, I am not alone in carefully watching this process.

Members from both sides of the clan, Lor's and my own, check in on a regular basis. They are, of course, concerned about her health and recovery. But they are also watching this process very carefully. Obesity is not uncommon in either of our families. Lor's success (and how hard she has to work at it) is being used as the measurement by which many others will decide if they are going to investigate surgery as a treatment option for themselves. "It is like there is a new drug treatment being tested, and I am 'patient zero'." Lor quipped yesterday. Her success will be what convinces a whole lot of people that there is something to this whole weight-loss surgery thing.

In that sense, Lor was the right person to go first. She is a practitioner of alternative medicine, so agreeing to have surgery in the first place meant that she really believed in the process. Everyone who knows her is aware that she is a meticulous researcher, paying special attention to what could go wrong, and never over-estimating positive potential results. ("Counting chickens" is her favorite phrase for being overly optimistic.) If she chose to do it, goes the family logic, there is really something to this.

The surgical prep and surgery have been so successful for one reason: she is stubborn. There is a reason she had already lost nearly 50 pounds before she ever had surgery - once she makes up her mind to succeed, she refuses to fail. She never set a "goal weight" exactly, talking more about the health benefits of losing (and keeping off) about 50 pounds. She already blew through that goal like an oncoming train. Next stop, 60 pounds down. Give her a day or two.

A better ambassador for the benefits of weight-loss surgery could not have been picked. But we will have to give her a few days before we start asking her to make public appearances. kissing babies, cutting ribbons, etc.

The weight of everyone's expectations has kinda worn her out.

Recording The Success Of Patient Zero,

- Hawkwind

Stand By Your (Wo)Man

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Our surgery dates are getting ever closer, and we are now at the point where we are ticking off days on the calendar before Lor's liquid diet begins. In about a week Lor will have her pre-surgical appointment, and I will have the appointment where my surgery gets scheduled. Tense times in this neck of the woods.

As we've gone through this whole process together, I've had the opportunity to really observe Lor's daily operations in a detail I had not ever been privy to before. The ins and outs of her daily life, her schedule, and her diet have left me with one overall impression.

Sometimes, it sucks to be a woman.

Take our weight loss journeys for example. Lor was chatting with a family member and mentioned how "unfair" it was that, while I have lost about 29 pounds so far, she had only lost about half of that. I mentioned that I started off at more than 30% heavier than her, so why wouldn't I lose more? And then promptly forgot about the matter.

But, during our most recent meeting with our nutritionist, I found out that this is a real, live issue. "Men lose faster than women, and in the places where bariatric patients want to lose,"she told us. "Women tend to lose weight in all the areas we don't want to lose in before we ever start reducing the areas that we want to lose weight from." She went on to talk about how important it was to not compare weight loss, that each journey was our own, etc. - but I had seen the flag of Female Solidarity being raised in that medical office. I was outnumbered and I kept my opinions to myself after that.

The fact remains that Lor has always had a healthier life than me. She has always wanted to eat fruits and vegetables while I wanted crap. She has always wanted to go outdoors and be active while I wanted to stay inside and play video games. The fact that she is having to go through this surgery to manage diabetes is manifestly unfair - but there you have it. Life isn't fair. If you are a woman, apparently less so.

Women are still 400% more likely to undergo bariatric surgery than men.This despite the fact that there are more obese men in this country than women. Sadly, many of these surgeries are not really motivated by health issues like mine and Lor's, but instead by self-esteem. The "beauty cult" in the U.S. tells women that they must be young, slim, and beautiful forever. Men, meanwhile, are free to pile on the pounds - because it represents success, or power, or something. And just spend a little time talking with any group of bariatric surgery survivors, and you will hear the horror stories of men trying to talk their ladies out of having surgery, of sabotaging their partner's weight loss, or even leaving their wives after surgery. Why? Fear of infidelity, mainly - these men believe that once their spouse has reclaimed some self-worth, she will leave them for someone better.

I say if your husband or boyfriend is that much of a prick, you should trade up. Bariatric surgery is hard enough without some insecure man stabbing you in the back at every turn.

A friend of ours was visiting the other day, providing moral support, and she and Lor began chatting about "female problems." With nothing to add, I decided to keep my own counsel. She finally looked over at me and attempted to bring me into the conversation. "What do you think?" she asked. 

I blurted out "I think I am glad I am not a woman," and I cringed the minute I said it, hearing how blatantly sexist and superior it sounded.

No one took any offense. Our friend just patted me on the shoulder and said "And you should, honey. You should."

Thinking I Dodged A Bullet,

- Hawkwind

The Slippery Slope

Several weeks ago, at the beginning of the diet-change process, a sudden craving struck our household. With elevated heart rates and embarrassed glances at each other, we headed to the local ice cream shop, and each got ourselves a sundae. After all, we rationalized, we had better do it now, right? It's not like we could splurge after our surgeries.

But, after the forbidden ice cream treat I felt...disappointed. Empty, almost. It had not really satisfied my craving at all, and I felt no desire for more. I told Lor, "Well, I guess that does it for ice cream.", and felt not only relief, but a curious sense of pride in myself - these dietary changes must already be working if my cravings were changing, right? I departed from our mutual diet failure with a sense of progress and accomplishment.

Fast forward to last week. Lor got sick - a head cold that left her drained and listless for days. Since she is the person who is in charge of our menu planning, and she had no real interest in eating, this created some confusion in the household. Especially when she demanded her favorite comfort food for getting through a cold - Green Chile Stew. Oddly, the best Green Chile Stew in our neighborhood is available from a chicken and barbecue restaurant, so I was dispatched on a quest to gather up the magical, sinus-clearing elixir. I asked Lor if it was OK if I got a meal as well. She waved her hand in dismissal, not being interested in what I did, as long as the Stew arrived quickly. On the way to the restaurant, I lectured myself on good choices, reduced carbs, and eating sensibly.

3 huge pieces of fried chicken, a side of mashed potatoes with gravy AND a side of Mac and Cheese later, I realized that maybe I wasn't as far along with these dietary changes as I previously thought.

In retrospect, the things I did wrong are pretty easy to spot. I should have agreed on a menu for myself before I left the house (2 pieces of baked chicken, maybe, perhaps some steamed broccoli to go with it.). I should have written it down, so I had something in writing to hold myself to, since my accountability partner would be lying on the couch several miles away, trying to breathe. But, mainly what I should have done is not take her illness as license to cheat on my diet. I should have gotten just the items that she asked for and then returned home, where we have tons of intelligent food choices already in place just waiting for me to prepare and eat them. It would've been cheaper, too.

I come out of the experience a little embarrassed and a little wiser. A single diet failure is not the end of the world by any means. But patting myself on the back for no longer wanting ice cream was a false achievement - there is no great accomplishment in giving up something I wasn't all that crazy about to start with, and I gave myself a false sense of security. I have now identified a true weakness (starchy carbs with rich sauces), and can start to work on making that change in my mental programming.

You don't give a thief a job guarding your bank, you do not leave the family cat unsupervised while there is food on the kitchen counter, and you don't send Hawkwind out to the fried chicken joint. It is not the course of wisdom.

Dreading The Weekly Weigh-In,

- Hawkwind

The Paralysis of Choice

I have sat here for an hour this morning, head in my hands like the Stormtrooper in the "Regret" poster, attempting to get my brain to fire up. It is slow going today, I must admit. No witty observations, no heartfelt revelations. Just sitting here staring at the wall, noting where I need to do some touch-up painting.

It is kinda strange, really. I am currently busier than ever. Blogging fills (most of) my mornings, doing some work out on MTurk is generating some Amazon credit for us, I've even discovered a "piece writing" site (Text Broker) that will actually pay real, live money for small articles. I have plenty to do. Today I just can't seem to get myself moving in order to do those things.

It is easy enough to blame my second day of caffeine withdrawal. But I am beginning to think that the real problem is choices: all of the sudden I have some options, and I am having trouble choosing between them. I am not really used to the concept. For years, my days consisted of getting up, gaming while hoping I didn't have seizures that day, going back to bed. Now, suddenly, there are options: Do I write a post? Do I go exercise? Do I get online and work for a little while? All this while feeling that my brain is turned off still.

In many ways, it feels very similar to the years when I was suffering from serious depression - then, I would see the things that I could be doing, but didn't care enough to do them. What would be the point? Now, it is almost a paralysis, like a child in a candy store, overwhelmed by too many options. My heart knows that I would be better off choosing something, but my mind can't seem to make that connection.

Six months ago, if you have told me I would be overwhelmed with options today, I would have laughed at you. My obesity and my epilepsy between them create a very firm anchor, fixing me in a very small space - a room with windows, but no doors. Today, I am still obese. I am still epileptic. But today, unlike 6 months ago, I have hope - hope that by this time next year weight-loss surgery may actually allow me to be taking my first, tentative steps again through life, instead of merely doing laps inside the walls of my twin disabilities. And no one ever warned me that hope is a paralyzing agent.

My hands are warmed up now, the blood seems to be flowing to the brain again. Out there is Real Life, streaming by outside my window like a busy freeway. Within these walls there are things I can be doing to prepare myself for the possibility that I might someday rejoin that flow.  I guess I better get to it.

Daring to Hope,

- Hawkwind

The Hospital Nightmare

A lot sooner than expected (maybe the lack of caffeine contributed), I have begun having to deal with an issue of Gastric Sleeve weight loss surgery that I thought I would be free of for at least another couple months. But, last night's nightmare has announced to me that it is already time to start dealing with an issue that I have kept quiet until now: I am terrified of hospitals.

I am not so afraid of surgery, really. I've had 3 pretty minor procedures in my life (My Vagus Nerve Stimulator surgeries and a meniscus repair), and they all turned out OK. But hospitals...man, that is a whole other thing. I have spent so much time in hospitals in the last twelve years, and none of it was pleasant. I have been under observation for a week, sleep deprived (on purpose) so neurologists could study my seizures. I have been poked and prodded, scanned and x-rayed, had gallons of blood removed from me a vial at a time as various medical professionals have tried to get a handle on my epilepsy. (None of it has ever worked, by the way.) And let's not even talk about how many times I have woken up in an Emergency Room, post-seizure, not knowing where I was, or who I was, or who these strange people all around me were. You know, people like my wife, and my parents.

Yeah, hospitals just aren't my thing. And I have been very carefully not thinking about the fact that I am going to have to spend at least a couple days in one come my surgery date, and that's if everything goes right. Apparently my subconscious has gone right on worrying about it without me, if last night's dream (about being prepped for the wrong surgery without being able to tell my doctor he was making a mistake) is any indication.

I can't even be really sure that everything is going to go correctly - I have searched and searched, and have been unable to find a single example of someone who has intractable seizures going through Gastric Sleeve surgery. I am sure people like me are out there, but they are sure not talking about it online. My case just seems custom designed for "complications" - the kind that stretch out my hospital stay. Ugh.

Most days I have been pretty excited about this whole process, but today has just been kind of a downer. And I still have 5 months (or so) to go! Maybe I will find some encouraging info between now and then, but for right now I am not feeling real great about this whole "hospital stay" thing.

And The Hospital Gowns Suck Too,

- Hakwind

Skinny is a Side Effect

When speaking with friends and family members about my upcoming Gastric Sleeve Surgery, there have been a wide range of reactions. Some are encouraging. Some tell me they are worried about the surgery. A few want to know what effect (if any) the surgery could have on my epilepsy. But, by far the most common response has been some version of the following:

"How exciting! Just think how skinny you are going to get!"

I smile, and nod politely, not trusting myself to speak. But, every time, it makes me grind my teeth a bit. Because if you were going to make a list of all the reasons I was having this surgery, "skinny" would not be at the bottom. "Skinny" would not even be on the list.

Western society is overly invested into the cult of skinny. It is something that my wife has been standing up against her whole adult life - so many women, and not a few men, get themselves emotionally crippled trying to match the societal ideal of what a person should look like. Eating disorders, yo-yo dieting, and emotional scarring abound, all because so many people can't get themselves to a "perfect" weight, or dress size, or whatever. And that societal disease leads SO many people to believe that my motivation to get a life-altering surgery performed on myself is to get skinny? The minds reels.

As exciting as it is to read about the dramatic weight loss numbers associated with the Gastric Sleeve and other weight loss surgeries, I really wish people would talk about other things more consistently. "Non-Scale Victories", or NSVs some call them - changes that have taken place that do not have to do with the number of pounds (or kilos, because this phenomenon is worldwide) that a person has lost.  I do see photos of people standing inside one leg of the "fat pants" they used to wear, holding the waist line out with one hand to demonstrate their weight loss, which sort of qualifies, I suppose - but is really still focusing on how a person looks after surgery. I am not really interested in how someone looks, I want to know how they feel. What changes has the surgery brought to their daily lives? What new doors have been opened that used to be firmly closed? These are the things that I want to know about, because these are the things I want to prepare myself for.

The damnable thing is, there are changes I can expect based entirely on how I will look after surgery. No longer will I be exiled to "Fatlandia" (the plus size men's section in any store) when shopping for clothing - I will actually be able to wear what I want, and might become more fashion conscious. Maybe I will be willing to go to the swimming pool right across the road from our home that I have only visited once in 4 years, because I hate the way I look in swimming trunks. Maybe I will become more aware of shaping my physique because I can suddenly have sex again. (Morbidly obese people tend to not have robust sex lives. I would talk in more detail, but there might be kids in the room.) It is entirely possible that I am full of crap here, and that my personal appearance will suddenly be a major factor in my life once I have gone through the surgery.

But, for now, I just wish people would stop focusing only on the number of pounds lost, and would also tell me other things. Have you been able to stop using a CPAP? Has your blood pressure dropped? Are you no longer in constant pain? Can you ride a bike now? How long until I can expect to go hiking in the Sandia Mountains, instead of sitting here on my ass? 

You know, things like that.

Not Waiting To Turn Into Brad Pitt,

- Hawkwind

PS - My copy editor tells me I forgot something important: I am very proud of myself for choosing to have this surgery, and proud of all of you that are also brave enough to take this frightening step along with me. But, be proud of who you are now. Love yourself for who you are now. Don't wait until you have reached a "target weight". You are already valuable and worthy of love, no matter what your scale says.

Some feedback and questions

Since I have converted Misdirected over to talking about our upcoming weight-loss surgeries, the response has been tremendous. I've received comments, advice, feedback, emails, text messages, etc. all supportive of and enthusiastic about the changes here - and our visitor numbers show the difference. Apparently I have struck a nerve here, talking about obesity and "big-gun" surgical methods in dealing with it. A few questions have come up that I thought could be addressed to the rest of our readership, rather than just the initial questioner:

1. "So, is Misdirected no longer a gaming site?"

The short answer is no, we are not. I have added more followers and fielded more feedback in the last 2 weeks dealing with issues pertaining to weight loss than I did in the previous 3 years talking about gaming. Now, I am still a gamer, and it remains a major part of my life. Accordingly, I will (finally) commit to streaming 5 days a week, about 3-4 hours a day at my Twitch channel. I intend right now for this to take place from 2pm-ish to 6pm-ish (MST). Since Real Life Happens, I am not committing to which 5 days every week - could be Mon - Fri, could be something else.. Inaugural stream will be later today. I need an outlet for my gaming habit, and maintaining two different blogs just did not seem like an effective way to go. Thanks to everyone who was concerned about this.

2. "What the heck blender is that you are using?"

It is part of the Ninja Kitchen System 1100 package, the latest and greatest version of which can be found here:

The pricing on Amazon isn't quite as good as the older one we found on clearance, but still the best price around. The system itself is very nice - it includes both blender and food processor pitchers that can be used on a 1500-watt base. It creates very nice smoothies out of raw vegetables and fruits, with blend times under the magical 60 second mark. (Blending over 60 seconds begins to seriously impact the nutritional value of your raw materials, due to oxidation apparently. I am no scientist, and don't even play one on TV.)

3. "What are you doing for nutritional supplementation?"

Many well-meaning people have been concerned about the pre-surgery diet creating some major holes in our day-to-day nutrition. I may not have mentioned this in enough detail before, but the major reason that it is going to take us almost 4 months to get through the process is that first we have to go through 3 months worth of work with a real  nutritionist, with letters after her name and everything. The first month of the diet involves adding a daily multivitamin and reducing our previous meals to meals with less than 45 grams of Carbs and with 20 (or more) grams of protein with every serving. The carb reduction has not been much of a problem, but we've had a rocky road trying to get up to the required protein amounts, especially in our once-a-day smoothies. Our financial status has pretty much prevented us from spending tons of money on Whey Protein supplements or anything like that, so we have been making do with high-protein vegetables, greek yogurt, and adding PB2 (aka Powdered Peanut Butter) to our smoothies. A family member found out about this, and decided to give us a hand, and last night a box full of "Love and Peas" Protein-Rich Meal replacement showed up at our door, courtesy of June Baker at The Health ConneXion. We're very excited to try this stuff out - it has a whopping 20 grams of protein per serving, Dairy-free, lactose-free, gluten-free, Vegan-certified - I don't know what all that means, but Lor informs me that this is top-of the line stuff. Thanks, June!

Lastly, you will be seeing some changes to the site here as I tailor more towards our new arrivals - people who are wanting to hear about one person's journey from obesity to weight-loss surgery. I appreciate all the interest we have had here at Misdirected, and look forward to sharing my good, bad, and ugly experiences with you all!

In Transition,

- Hawkwind

Man Up And Eat Your Veggies

24 ounces of Spinachy Carroty Strawberryish Goodness

When Lor and I decided to start looking into more drastic weight loss solutions initially, she had me watch Joe Cross' excellent documentary "Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead", chronicling his weight loss journey performing a 60-day "juice fast" and losing over 100 pounds in the process. While "juicing" didn't really sound like my thing, I had to agree with the tons of nutritional advice in the documentary focusing on one major dietary problem in our lives: instead of a diet made up of 33% (or so) Fruits and Vegetables, our diet was nearly entirely made up of meats and processed foods. We made the decision that, when we could afford it, we would get a juicer or a blender and start making the necessary changes in our diets. Oddly enough, we found a normally $200 blender/food processor combination in the Clearance section of our local mega-mart for 75% off within 48 hours of making this decision. Almost instantly, fruit and vegetable smoothies entered our daily diet, taking the place of our normal lunch routine.

Yesterday, given all the pet-centric chaos and commotion around here, we skipped our daily smoothies. Lor had some canned fruit, I had some leftovers from dinner the night before. I felt completely drained of energy by 8 last night, and woke up this morning with all the symptoms of a good, old-fashioned hangover. The lack of plant-based nutrients yesterday had me paying a serious price today. I told Lor this morning: "I should've just manned up and made our smoothies yesterday."

We both chuckled at the idea that "manning up" equated to eating plants. And I have been thinking about that laughter ever since. Why is it, I wonder, that we look at eating veggies as un-masculine? It can't really have anything to do with the work involved in raising plant-based foods: any farmer will tell you that farming is anything but a weakling's profession. It is work made up of days filled with long, arduous labor. We'll have to look elsewhere for where meat = man.

There is an inherently combative element to the idea of eating meat, I suppose - "Nature, red in tooth and claw", and all that. But talk to any professional athlete about the idea of eating an all-meat diet and you will be laughed out of the clubhouse. Whole, plant-based foods contain nearly all the nutrients a human needs to survive and thrive. (Some vitamins can be an exception.) What the heck is so manly about being nutrient-deficient?

But, the myth persists. We know a family where the wife attempted to start she and her husband on a daily regimen of plant-based smoothies, only to have the husband reject the idea. Why? Because it wasn't "real food". I, myself, have frequently mocked the people I know who prefer salads over steaks, calling them "tree-huggers", and saying they are eating "bunny food." Now, at 150 pounds overweight, I wish I had eaten more salads and otherwise kept my mouth shut.

There is nothing manly about gasping for air after a walk around the block. Embrace your inner bunny, and start making decisions based on what your body needs, instead of the foods that you think of as masculine. Your six-pack will never be visible if it is hidden beneath a beer keg, like mine.

Drinking My Lunch (And I Don't Mean Budweiser).

- Hawkwind

The Big Green Monster

Every time I hobble through the kitchen in my home, I have to turn my head away from the window so that I will not catch a glimpse of my nemesis. It is big, it is green, it is frightening, and it is NOT going to go away. But maybe, just maybe, if I don't catch a glimpse, I won't be overwhelmed by my feeling that I should be doing something about it.

My arch-enemy is not a big green snake. It is not Oscar the Grouch, or Kermit the Frog. It is the huge, weed-infested yards that surround the home we currently live in. You see, our home was built in the 1950s, and is therefore not restricted by the Xeriscape requirements that most homes here in Albuquerque are. (Xeriscape is landscaping designed around low water use. Think cactus and rocks.) However, by the time we moved into the house 3 years ago, no one had bothered to do anything else with landscaping the home for years. So, when the weather starts warming up again, we wind up in a home surrounded by huge patches of weeds. Where there are not weeds, there is simply good old-fashioned dirt.

In my head, I am the kind of guy who is out every weekend working on his perfectly manicured yard -  a couple of small lawns, some fruit trees, even a garden for fresh veggies. In reality, I am disabled, mobility-impaired, and know nothing about yard care in the first place. So, I should just farm the work out, right? Last week, I attempted to do just that - I spoke with a handyman here in our neighborhood about what it would cost us to rein in my front yard. He took one look at my yard, filled with two-foot high weeds punctuated my 3 dead 10-foot tall trees that would have to be chain-sawed and removed, and quoted me a reasonable price - $60.

But, no matter how I tried, I could not squeeze another $60 our of our household budget. Social Security Disability keeps our household held firmly below the poverty line, and leaves no money for things like contractor yard care. Discouraged, I decided to tackle the problem myself. I spent two hours with a weed trimmer engaged in combat with the front yard. The end result? I was laid out for 3 days from injuring my back and knees. And my front yard is just as ugly as it ever was - now filled with dirt and dead weeds, over which still tower my deceased trees.

So, here I sit, crippled by my two disabilities - the one that keeps me from working (epilepsy), and the one that keeps me from moving (obesity). Between the two, I feel effectively trapped - and that gigantic patch of weeds in the back yard just keeps growing. Unless the Xeriscape Fairy arrives, I can expect that the situation is never going to change - even if I had the energy to take down all those weeds (which I don't), I still wouldn't have the money to replace them with something else. The circle of life continues.

Now, the odds are good that weight loss will give me back some mobility. There is even a chance (not a guarantee, but a chance) that weight loss will increase the efficacy of my anti-seizure meds - maybe even to the point where I could look into beginning to work again. But until that day arrives, I will just have to keep on waiting for the willpower to charge out into the back yard and injure myself again reining it in. Knowing all the while that the front yard is once again getting over-grown...

Sighing and Trying Not To Look Out The Windows,

- Hawkwind

The Emotional Pain of Costco

Warehouse store, or den of torture?

Through the last few weeks of evaluation and preparation for bariatric surgery, I have been pretty happy with my mental attitude. I have been looking at the upcoming surgery as an opportunity to get healthier, not something that I am unhappy about or dreading. And I have, for the most part, been looking forward to the life changes that will come along with weight loss. Some sacrifices have to be made, sure, but they are all worth it, right?

Then, I met my emotional Waterloo last Friday, on a grocery visit to our local Costco.

At first, it wasn't too bad.  I decided, as we entered, that I would check some of my favorite foods against the pre-surgical diet of 135 grams per day (or less) of Carbohydrates. We walked through the door and were immediately confronted with a rack filled with Costco muffins. Now THERE was something I would never have again, right? I checked the nutritional info, and boy howdy, was I right - Each muffin was 690 calories (1/3 of my daily caloric intake), with 79 grams of carbohydrates - almost 2 full meals worth. I shuddered a bit to think of the number of times I had eaten a muffin (or two...) along with a regular breakfast, and then moved deeper into the store.

Things did not get easier once inside. Many of my favorite processed foods called out to me from the frozen section. Frozen hash browns stood out harshly - they are a required ingredient in one of our "staple foods" around here, breakfast burritos. 18 grams of carbs a serving...and a serving was only 3 ounces of potatoes. The last time I put only 3 ounces of potatoes in a burrito would be, let's see, NEVER. More like three times that amount.  So, 54 grams of hash browns in a burrito...and I normally eat at least 2  burritos for breakfast...that would be 108 grams of carbs, taken out of my pre-surgery 135 gram per day diet, before factoring in any other ingredient! More than two thirds of my daily carbohydrate diet, gone in 2 servings of hash browns. Once I realized breakfast burritos were going to have to come off the menu, depression began to set in.

We had to pass through the section filled with all the beautiful imported beers I will never have again. Through the aisle containing the Ghiradhelli Brownie mixes I would not be making again any time soon. I had a brief hope when we hit the fruit juices, hoping for some relief here (fruit is healthy, right?), but, nope: a mere 8 ounces of Welch's Grape Juice was a whopping 36 carbs. No more fruit juice as a Coke replacement for me, then, I trudged onward.

And then, the breaking point. My nose recognized that strong, earthy scent, and I realized I had arrived at the coffee aisle. We are only a few days now from D-Day (Decaf, that is) here at home, and I simply could no longer bear the thought of what was coming down the road. I have been a habitual coffee drinker since 16 years of age and now it, too, will be making an exit from my life. I suddenly felt like a 6-year-old being hauled through Toys-R-Us, and being told firmly to not touch anything. I looked back at the aisles filled with forbidden items, then looked into our cart filled with Kale, Celery and multivitamins, and had never felt so betrayed in my life.

My depressed mental state lasted all the way home. Once we arrived, I was left to unload the groceries from the car. And, after carrying 3 loads of groceries from car to fridge - a total of maybe 90 steps - I had to collapse on the couch, panting as if I had run a marathon.

Oh, right. That is why I am doing this.

Still Winded,

- Hawkwind

A Look Behind The Curtain

Anyone who has spent even a small amount of time following Misdirected knows that I kinda keep things on the DL (Down Low - keeping things hidden, for those who missed the class on Speaking Like The Cool Kids.) I use a pen name, major characters in my life are referred to by nicknames or pronouns, etc. It isn't that I have any particular desire to remain a secret. Far from it, in fact - those who don't know me can work out my real name just from looking at my email address over there to the right somewhere. But I have no wish to expose any one else's life accidentally - as my Mother likes to say, "Those are not my stories to tell." Where my stories intersect with other lives is where I get real nervous about what is safe to talk about.

Imagine my surprise when the love of my life, Loralia, starts speaking to me last night about bringing up a subject that I have specifically left completely unmentioned thus far. Lor is intimately involved with Misdirected - she acts as my copy editor, thesaurus, and memory bank all rolled in to one person. So, she is well aware of anything that I have said or allowed to remain unspoken in these posts. And last night she mentioned to me that I should talk about something pretty relevant to my recent posts. I countered that the information was not really anyone else's business. She was firm: "I don't want anyone to think there is any shame in what we are doing here." I conceded.

So, the news is this: I am actually not going through Bariatric Surgery alone. Lor is also taking part in the process, with her schedule running about 6 weeks ahead of mine. While my surgery will be taking place in August, hers will most likely take place in June.

Our surgery coordinator and our surgeons are delighted - couples that go through the surgery together have a vastly higher long-term success rate than individuals that have to go it alone. With built-in diet monitors and accountability partners right at home, the temptations to fall off the wagon are greatly diminished. And the support system that is required for encouragement and validation? No further than across the dinner table.

Now, this has created some worries in our household. Lor has been a long-time opponent of body-shaming, and has worked diligently for decades with friends, family members and clients to help them to love themselves as they are, rather than cave in to societal expectations of what a "perfect" body should look like. Lor is beautiful and she knows it, and she has helped so many other women understand the beauty they already possess without diets, without input from Vogue and Cosmo, and without...surgery.

But, the hard truth of the matter is that Lor's family has a long history of Diabetes. Lor's family has lost several members to the disease already. And Lor's case of Diabetes has gotten so bad that she recently had to retire from Massage Therapy - her joints and musculature have atrophied so badly that she is in constant pain, unable to do the work she loves any longer. This is hard news for a young woman with many years of life left in front of her. And, one of the best treatments for this disease is - Bariatric Surgery. The decision, for Lor, was not at all about the cosmetic effects of surgery. Same as with me, Lor wants to be able to have some "quality" restored into her Quality of Life.

The two of us found it very odd that, while I was waiting for my initial appointment to be evaluated for surgery, Lor's family practitioner suggested out of the blue that Lor be evaluated as well. Lor's doc was a LOT more aggressive than mine, and moved Lor over into the fast lane, getting her evaluated, approved, and started on the process while I was still waiting for my initial eval. Lor is basically 6 weeks ahead of me on this journey, and I have (selfishly, yes) enjoyed the benefits of being able to see what is coming down the road for me through her eyes.

Thanks again to everyone for your support and interest in this whole process. We both appreciate the encouragement through what has been a pretty mind-blowing process so far.

Envisioning Life Without Diabetes and Arthritis,

- Hawkwind and Loralia

The Internet Has Spoken

A little history: As of August 10 of last year, after 3+ years of existence, Misdirected hit 10,000 total page views.

Last night, only 7 months later, we kicked over 15,000 page views.

We went over the tipping point, in part, due to a tidal wave of views that came in yesterday - a single post that brought in more page views and more feedback than any other thing I have written. This was not a gaming post, not a post about epilepsy, no insightful social commentary on my part. It was literally a few paragraphs on the subject of starting the journey towards bariatric surgery that drove more interest here than any other 3 previous posts combined.

So, what does this mean for me, and for the future development of Misdirected?

I had honestly not intended to shift the focus of this blog. My original plan was to provide occasional, brief updates on my progress pre- and post-surgery, sprinkled in amongst the "real" content of the blog. But there is more interest in this subject than in anything else I have written. So, the question now becomes: Am I writing this blog as a diary, or really trying to communicate with the world? (I find it ironically amusing that even the blog title could be taken in the context of weight-loss surgery)

I remain a gamer. I remain disabled due to epilepsy. But, I also remain a person struggling with obesity and with my decision to address this issue via surgical means. Accordingly, I will probably be spending more time talking about obesity and the surgical process than I had originally intended. I have been a long time advocate for those disabled with epilepsy - I think my advocacy has room to expand a bit.

One thing I do need from my readers - I have had a couple people express their disappointment that I will not be doing a weight-loss related video blog. Is this something that the rest of you are really interested in? Drop me a line or leave me a comment on Facebook to let me know.

And, don't worry. I will still keep wiping out parties in XCom 2 and Darkest Dungeon and coming here to complain about it.

Re-Balancing,

- Hawkwind

The Retreat to the Blogosphere

The last time we talked, I was getting ready to find out if my doctors were going to approve me to move forward with bariatric surgery. Since then I have been through medical appointments, flat tires, financial crises brought on by my insurance carrier raising my co-payments without telling me, and a twelve hour road trip. So, like, a fairly normal weekend in the Hawkwind Habitat. (Still not sure about that name. Kinda sounds like a children's show about eco-issues. )

So - weight loss surgery. I have been approved by both my neurologist and my surgeon to move forward with a "sleeve" procedure. This requires several more doctor visits, a psychiatric eval, and 3 months of dietary counseling before the actual surgery takes place, probably in early August. I am simultaneously relieved that I was approved and terrified of what is going to happen to me now. Being informed that one of the stipulations was No More Beer, like, forever was kinda depressing, so I am enjoying a higher number than usual now, and will probably have my Final Beer Ever event on my birthday in June.

The good news is that my surgeon thinks that I should lose upwards of 100 pounds as a result of the surgery. That is still a mind blowing number to me. The last time I weighed 200 pounds I could not drink legally, the Berlin Wall was still standing, and Bill Clinton was still the president of the USA. Let that sink in for a minute. It has been a looong time. I have only the vaguest idea of what life will be like without all the attendant crap that comes along with obesity. I just wanted to cut back on my medications, and for my knees to stop hurting so much. Not sure what I will do with myself if I am at a "normal" BMI again.

In gaming news, I have actually gotten in a couple of rounds of XCom 2 and Darkest Dungeon since last we spoke. I have managed to get my DD team to the threshold of meeting the Necromancer Apprentice, and I managed to get my XCom squad totally wiped out. Again. It is becoming a theme. However, my research across the Internet for info about these two games has led me to a couple of very interesting streamers. ChristopherOdd is currently running an awesome "Let's Play" of XCom 2 that I highly recommend to anyone interested in the game. And my new favorite Brit, Adam, over at CallofCthulu is running daily alternating streams of XCom 2, Darkest Dungeon, and Sunless Sea, 3 of my favorite games. I highly recommend his channel, but be aware that the theme is very dark, and the language is very adult. You have been warned. If you drop in, tell him Hawkwind said hello.

I will get up both an XCom and a DD video on YouTube this week. I would like to be putting things up more than just once a week, but that is about all I can manage with all the chaos going on in my life right now. I will also keep everyone posted on the progress of the bariatric surgery journey - I had considered doing a little video blog, but can't think of anything I could do there that I couldn't do here on Misdirected. Thanks to everyone for all the support so far!

Wishing Myself Resistance To Beer + 10,

- Hawkwind