The Lights Are On, But No One Is Home

So, the first 24 hours of the liquid diet phase is over. I consumed 3 protein shakes, 2 sugar-free popsicles, 1 greek yogurt and 80+ ounces of water - while only occasionally staring longingly into the refrigerator at things I could chew. I got a little cranky towards the end of the day, but I suppose this is to be expected on a day where you only ingest 725 calories all day. (I did manage 93 grams of protein, so yay Muscle Milk shakes!)

But the really weird part occurred right around 3:30 yesterday afternoon. We were sitting in the office of a title company, working on scheduling the closing on our home, when I very distinctly felt my brain shut off. It is hard to describe it otherwise - one moment I was looking over the paperwork, the next I was unable to focus on anything, reading the same line over and over. I am real familiar with this condition - this is how postictal state feels: that is, the period of time after a seizure. But there had been no seizure to accompany it.

I struggled through the next half an hour - forgetting my email address, filling out paperwork incorrectly, trying to remember how to sign my name, for goodness sake. I smiled a lot to make up for it, and we exited the office.

I mentioned it to Lor cautiously, fearing this might be some weird interaction between the severe caloric restriction and my epilepsy. She just nodded her head. "Yeah, that's what happens when you are on the liquid diet. You come down with brain fog."

Wait...she felt like this for 4 weeks?

Yes, it turns out that, for Lor at least, the 4 weeks of liquid diet were accompanied by serious mental confusion and inability to focus. She spent the whole first week like this, recovered for week 2, and then the surgery tipped her right back over the edge into "brain fog". She is only now really getting her mental legs back under her. 

If everyone feels like this while they are going through this process, no wonder they are in a bad mood! Being unable to think straight for a month would drive anyone crazy. We were told to expect fatigue, not mental confusion, during this process - which makes me wonder how many people are just going to bed rather than trying to think.

For maybe the first time in my life, I can be grateful for my experience with epilepsy. I have over a decade of experience in getting through life with my brain functioning at "a sub-optimal level" (as a neurologist would put it.) But it is a very strange sensation - normally I just sort of sit quietly somewhere while post-ictal and wait for the lights to turn back on. Here I am having to push through, not expecting to get back to normal...until August sometime.

Thank goodness I am a writer and am used to sitting around and staring at a blank page, waiting for the next idea to arrive. Can't imagine how this would work if I was an airline pilot. Or a brain surgeon.

1 Hour & 30 Minutes - Longest Time To Write A Blog Post Ever,

- Hawkwind

Wheels Up

Well, it is official. I've been through the classes, I've done the 3+ months of reduced carb diet, I've even received the letter from my insurance company telling me that I am approved. Only one thing left to do before surgery.

Today, the liquid diet phase begins.

For those who have joined us recently, the liquid diet phase means this: every "meal" I have, for the next two weeks, is a protein shake. To break up the monotony, I also get to have a few snacks every day: one cup of yogurt, up to 4 sugar-free popsicles a day, and/or all the broth I want. I also need to be ingesting at least 64 ounces of water a day, but I am an old pro at that by now - I've been doing it since March or so.

We have some very recent experience with this liquid diet thing - Lor did it just about 6 weeks ago. It is not pleasant - she was constantly craving the ability to chew anything. Plus, the adjustment of one's body to the reduced calorie load has a bit of a negative emotional side effect.

In other words, I can expect to be cranky as heck for about the first week of my 4 weeks on nothing but liquids.

The results are pretty profound, though. From the point where Lor started the liquid diet to where she exited the hospital, a period of 3 weeks, she dropped a total of 13 pounds - a little over 4 pounds a week. 

I've now been at this for 25 weeks, since I started the pre-surgery diet early, at the same time Lor did. I've managed to lose 41 pounds in that time, averaging about 1.5 pounds a week. Our surgical team constantly tells us not to compare weight loss numbers, but I am going to anyway - If I am down another 13 pounds at my post-surgical weekly weigh in, 3 weeks from today, I will have lost 54 pounds total.

I will be below 250 pounds for the first time since 2004.

When I weighed around 250, I looked something like this:

2002 - Somewhere between 240 and 250 pounds.

Yeah, I'll take that. 

Protein Shakes, here I come.

Wishing There Were More Interesting Flavors,

- 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

The Garden of Regrets

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How do you look at your life? When you sit down and think about the life you have led so far, how do you visualize it? I know people who think of their lives as a climb up a mountain side. Many I know look at life as a road, stretching before and behind them into infinity. Another person I know has described her life as a painting that she is creating as she goes, working the canvas from one side to another.

I look at my life as a garden. Decisions, relationships, and opportunities all grow from a plot of common ground. A few (very few) flowers have been carefully tended, given water and sunlight, and have turned into flowering blossoms that provide the beauty in my life. The rest...well, the rest are half grown and dead, having withered away due to neglect or forgetfulness, or have even been intentionally been allowed to die. To me, my life is a wasteland of drooping and blackened husks, punctuated with the occasional splash of color.

Why share this admittedly depressing visualization with you? Mainly because of the fears that are coming along with my current life choices. After a long period of stasis, my life is suddenly filled with activity and choices. And I am desperately afraid that I will screw those choices up.

For example, when dealing with the issues that come along with buying a house that is nearly as old as my parents, I can't help but have some thoughts about that other house. Twenty years ago, Lor and I were simple country mice, living in a little town in northern New Mexico. My parents decided to move to the big city, and invited us to move into the home they had been living in - the home I grew up in. About a year later, chasing dreams of being a rock star in the big city, I moved us to Albuquerque as well, selling that house and leaving small town life behind forever.

That house would have been completely paid off for nearly 10 years now.

These are the kind of thoughts that come and sit upon your chest at 4 in the morning when you are getting ready to buy a different house - one that I will not have paid off until I am in my seventies. Every bad decision I have ever made leads me to question every choice I am currently making. 

Another great example: We don't talk about it much, but Lor and I were actually divorced for a period of 4 years, before reconciling and remarrying on what would have been the 20th anniversary of our first marriage. (Follow all that?) That is significant for a pretty big reason - the car accident I was in that caused my adult-onset Epilepsy took place in the parking lot of an apartment complex. The apartment complex that Lor was moving into after our initial separation.

So, goes the theory, if I had just worked a little harder on our marriage the first time around, I never would have developed epilepsy in the first place, right? Though I sort of have the belief that everything happens for a reason, I am not enough of a fatalist that I think I was predestined to make the choices I have made over the years. I think choice is important - I think it is what defines us as a species, as well as moral and spiritual beings. 

But, if choice really matters, then making the right choices now becomes really important. The surgery coming up here in a few weeks no longer seems like the natural conclusion to a series of life events, but instead looks as yet another chance to screw my life up by making the wrong decision. With the exceptions of both times I married Lor, my track record as a decision maker is not a great one. Selfish choices on my part have led to some very bad results for my little family. I am not looking back on the previous 40+ years with pride right now, but instead with regret, and a longing to have made a few major decisions differently.

I am not sure why this is jumping on me 18 days (but who is counting?) before my surgery. But I am just fervently hoping that the seeds I am planting in my life right now can be watered and nurtured into a different kind of garden - one filled with living plants that will eventually bloom. I would love to spend the final half of my life, whether that be 4 years or 40, surrounded by beauty, derived from the seeds I am planting today.

It doesn't seem that much to ask, to hope that I am planting seeds filled with life this time around.

Trying To Find My Watering Can,

- Hawkwind

Summertime Blues

The enemy on the rooftop

Quick, what is less comfortable that a fat person in 100-degree heat?

Exactly - two fat people in 100-degree heat.

All props to Lor, who is shedding weight like our Chihuahua sheds fur, but she still has a way to go before she has reached a "climate comfortable" weight for here in New Mexico. And, as for me, I can't even see the promised land of a body no longer covered in fat from where I am standing. 

So, of course, yesterday during our 100-degree heat wave is when our evaporative cooler decided to give out.

For those of you wondering where the heck I was yesterday, I was busy dying of heat stroke in my living room. The cooler has been slowing going out on us for a while now - I replaced the lime-encrusted pads a couple weeks ago, for a few days of blessed relief, and then...nothing. When I went outside to take a look at the cooler (mounted on my roof, of course), I could literally see steam rising out from the pads. So, not willing to get on my roof when the sun was at its highest, I went out every couple of hours to hose the pads down from ground level, using a "jet" attachment on a garden hose.

Obesity begets creativity.

When evening finally came, and the sun had dropped below the horizon, I hauled my ladder out to the side of the house, and hauled myself onto the roof. A couple things here - my ladder is rated at 225 pounds. I am currently rated at 263. The noises it made as I cautiously climbed up were alarming, to say the least. Then, the really fun part - I have an 8-foot ladder. My lowest point of access to my roof is 9 feet off the ground.

Have you ever seen 260+ pounds of sweaty male trying to balance on the top step of a ladder in order to leap across the gap and onto his roof? No? The neighbors were taking bets on when I would fall and what size of a crater I would leave. I eventually sort of leaned across onto my roof, onto the still-steaming tar and shingles (ouchouchouch), and kinda crawled my way up to safety.

Investigation proved what Lor had suspected (and suggested) all along - my water pump, which had been working perfectly well 2 weeks ago when I replaced the pads, had finally died. Disgusted, I removed it and returned to the ladder.

Only now, I couldn't reach the ladder anymore. No matter how I grunted and groaned, I could not get my foot down onto that precarious top step. (You know, the one 2 steps above the text saying "Do Not Climb Above This Point".) Ashamed and exhausted, I called Lor to come out and hold the ladder and direct my steps as I kinda crawled backward (ouchouchouch) off the side of the house onto the ladder.

Once inside the house, we began our research. I could order a pump off of Amazon, but it would take two days to get here, while we withered away in the heat. I checked the website for Home Depot, and discovered a replacement pump for less than Amazon. It was now 9:03 PM and Home Depot closed at...10 PM. We briefly discussed which bill we would not be paying this month in order to buy a new pump. (We are poor folks, remember? Why do you think I haven't bought a new ladder? Tall ladders are hideously expensive.)

I then rushed off to Home Depot, found the pump, bought it with our gas company payment (who needs gas in summer, right?), and rushed home. It was now fully dark, but I was unwilling to wait until the next morning to get this done. Lor had spotted a better location for the ladder (when I fell off, it would be onto softer ground), so I grabbed a flashlight, and scurried back onto the roof. At least it was no longer searing marks into my flesh any longer.

An hour later, thanks to the fact that I can hold a Mini-Maglite between my teeth, the repair was complete. The pads were getting saturated once more, and I could now make the treacherous journey back down to ground level. I sat on the floor in the hallway directly under the now functioning swamp cooler for at least half an hour, as a reward for my valiant efforts.

So, how was your day?

Not Sure About This Home Ownership Thing,

- Hawkwind

Independence Day

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Happy Independence Day to all my U.S. readers!

We are today at the 240th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. The whole "anniversary" concept has me thinking this morning, about the timeline we have been experiencing as we move up to (and in Lor's case through) bariatric surgery and the lifestyle changes that go along with it. I am left to kind of scratch my head and wonder: where are my anniversaries going to be?

Will I celebrate next January 11, the anniversary of the day where I stepped on a scale and saw 302 pounds displayed? The actual "moment of clarity" where I realized that I was no longer in control of my own weight and my own life, and needed to do something about it?

Or maybe, instead, I should note February 28 - the day of Lor's first Bariatrics appointment. Though my own appointment with the bariatrics team at  ABQ Health Partners was not to arrive until March 3rd, the day that Lor went in to meet with her surgeon and decided to move forward with surgery is the day that this process really got started - where we made the team commitment that, whether or not we were both approved for surgery, we would both go through the lifestyle changes together.

Another possible "independence day" anniversary would be June 1 - the day Lor started her liquid diet phase. Her preparation for surgery had a very profound impact on my own diet and lifestyle as well. It represented, for both of us, the day our old lives ended and our new relationships with food began. 

Or, I could just go with the old standard, and choose my upcoming surgery date as my "new me" anniversary date. On the 25th of July, for every year from here forward, I can look back at the hideous self-portraits I keep on my phone and be reminded of what I do not ever want to return to. 3 weeks from today (not that I am counting) I pass the Rubicon - the point past which there is no return.

So many transition points to reflect on and the year is only half over. I am also looking forward to dates like:

• My first sub 250-pound weigh-in.
• The first day I can fit into a 38-inch waistline.
• The day I can bench press 145 pounds again.
• My first Christmas with both sides of the family after our surgeries.

And so on. Man, I could be giving myself anniversary presents for all of next year.

Enjoy your holiday!

Looking Forward To Personal Fireworks,

- Hawkwind

The Mathematics of Post-Surgery Diet

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The joy over getting to eat "real food" again didn't last very long here, now that reality has set in. And the reality is: 2 Tablespoons of protein based food and 1 Tablespoon of "Other" does not a meal make.

Consider the simple mathematics here. One of our favorite dishes has been the "Frittatas" that Lor has been making for a couple months now. Essentially crust-less quiches, they are little baked disks of egg that I originally discovered at The World According To Eggface. These tasty treats can be filled with any number of things, making them a perfect post-surgery food.

However, when they contain nothing but egg and cheese (all that is allowed in Stage 3 of post-surgery recovery)...their nutritional value drops pretty dramatically. Consider the numbers: One large egg works out to about 6 grams of protein. One cup of shredded "Mexican Blend" cheese contains about 24 grams of protein. A frittata recipe calls for 4 eggs (24 grams of protein) and 4 ounces of cheese (12 grams of protein). This mixture is then ladled into a mini-muffin pan, containing receptacles for 24 mini-muffins. 36 grams of protein, divided by 24 frittatas works out to around 1.5 grams of protein per frittata.

A recently surgically reduced stomach can handle usually 1, maybe 2 of these little guys.

Have you spotted the problem yet?

3 grams of protein, multiplied by 3 meals per day = not nearly enough protein intake for the day. A full day's worth of protein for Lor, measured in frittatas, would work out to 42 of them. No way to handle THAT load post-surgery.

OK, so let's just do the egg stuff for breakfast, instead of all day. How about we have some canned chicken for lunch instead? A serving of canned chicken, happily, is 2 ounces - just about the amount a post-surgical tummy can handle. 2 ounces of canned chicken works out to 9 grams of protein. You can dress it up, maybe, add some mayo or some chopped celery or something, but at the end of the day, 9 grams of protein is what you are going to get.

So, Breakfast of 2 frittatas = 3 grams of protein. 2 ounces of (hopefully decorated) canned chicken = 9 grams of protein. That brings us to 12 grams for the day. Dinner had better bring it hard.

So, let's select something that we are always reading about as a "natural super-food": Salmon. Surely, some canned salmon for dinner will totally get this daily diet done, right? Let's see...a serving of canned salmon is...3 ounces. Ouch. That is never going to work, not immediately post surgery. Let's cut that number in half then, try to work our way through 1.5 ounces instead. A full serving of canned salmon would be...hey! "17.5 grams of protein"! Excellent!

Oh...right. Right. We're only eating half a serving. OK, so 8.75 grams of protein for 1.5 ounces. Less than canned chicken, then. Depressing. So Breakfast was 3 grams of protein, Lunch was 9 grams, Dinner is 8.75 grams. 20.75 grams of protein, total. 

So, that was depressing. Where else can we get some protein...oh, right! Snacks!! We get two yogurts a day, too! So, let's grab a yogurt for each of our snacks during the day. Each of our Dannon Greek yogurts is worth...12 grams of protein. So, 2 yogurts works out to 24 grams of protein! Which brings us to a total of...44 grams of protein for the day. Out of a requirement of 60 grams a day for Lor.

Well. That sucks.

Guess we are not done with those freakin' protein shakes just yet after all.

Wondering How I Am Going To Manage 100 Grams A Day When It Is My Turn,

- Hawkwind