My Brain vs Plastic Surgery : Part II

I'm struggling here, guys. I try to keep the negative to a minimum. I operate in a fairly content/happy place most of the time these days - - but I am having a really hard time forgiving myself for my abysmal decision regarding my first surgeon. I am mad at myself for choosing him - for putting "he seems pretty laid back & I like his cowboy boots" and "I can save a few bucks" over the important shit, like "he's actually worked with people with a lot of skin to remove" and "he knows what the fuck he's doing". I didn't ask nearly enough questions. I didn't ask the right questions. I didn't put in enough work to insure I was going to have the best experience, and results. I chose someone who couldn't even be bothered to proofread their after-care instructions! It is irking my ass to no end that I'm still bothered by this, but telling myself to let it go is proving much easier than actually doing it. I feel like I've kind of closed myself off from people because I'm still cranky/sad/pissed/annoyed by this whole experience.

I'm hopeful the next month will provide the time I need to "get over it". I'd like to try to regain some of the excitement I had prior to my last surgery, before all the pissed offness began..... I'd like to be pumped to see what my body is going to look like when this excess flab is removed, instead of feeling complete indifference. I'm hopeful this disinterest is at least partially caused by the fact that this winter sucked total balls, and now that it's warming up things will improve in the "Natalie's Disposition" department. Fingers crossed, everyone.

My healing from FUPA removal is going fine - I just have one small spot on my lower left back that seems reluctant to close up. I have a few spots along my scar line that aren't as smooth as the others, but they appear to be healing. My lady-biz is a daily reminder of my error in judgement. It's saggy and crooked - seriously. The scar has a hard spot in it. There's a spot where it kind of bunched up and healed. The right side is much lower than the left - (caused by walking 2 hours a day starting the day of surgery?) contributing to the crookedness. My butt looks worse than before the surgery...I genuinely can't figure out what the hell he was doing there... But the positives are: I'm back with my trainer. I have good range of motion. My overall health is fine. I just keep reminding myself things could have been so much worse than a crooked vag.

In an effort to move on - -
I have my 2nd surgery scheduled with Dr. George Landis for Friday, April 26th. He'll be removing my wings (excess skin on my upper arms), removing my flaps (loose skin under my armpits, on my sides, and installing boobs (putting them back in the vicinity of where they go, and adding a smaller implant). He graciously agreed to provide any post-op care for my first surgery, so I was able to sever ties with boot scootin' boogie (aka: my first surgeon).

I really like him. I like his vibe - also chill, but a little more profesh. He has worked with people who have lost a lot of weight, and he gets it! When I told him I don't want to walk out with absurdly huge boobs he just nodded and told me "after people lose a lot of weight, they're just kind of done being big". BINGO! So accurately stated!

I have my pre-op session with him April 11th, where I should learn move about care and limitations after surgery, and get more instructions. I did tell him the good news for him is, if he gives me correct after-care instructions, they will be followed. Needless to say - we'll be going over instructions verbally, and as a group, to make sure we're all on the same page.

So at this point I'm just trying to get out of my own head. Trust this surgeon, who was a very close 2nd after the first round of surgeon interviews - - but when you have to pay for every cent of these procedures, the lower bill won out. I'm now fully understanding that you truly "get what you pay for"...

The Breakup

As I learned in the movie "Some Kind of Wonderful", trust is the basis of any relationship....

I started my search for a plastic surgeon looking for experience and knowledge of course - - but just as importantly - I was looking for someone I vibed with, and felt I could trust.

I don't think it will come as a shock to any of you that I knew next to nothing about plastic surgery...I was hopeful to find someone that would provide me with accurate expectations & options, while keeping my safety paramount. I was relying on these professionals to advise me on what to do, when to do it and how to do it - to help insure I came out of each surgery with the best results possible. 

I took for granted that they would also let me know if my "exceptional case" was too much for them - - if they didn't feel as though their background or skillset was best suited to my particular needs. ("Exceptional case" was what Dr Camp would refer to me as any time I had a question, or issue, with the work he had done) My expectation was to find someone worthy of the trust required for this process. I was going to, quite literally, put my life in their hands on more than one occasion. My expectation was that I would be given accurate information to keep me safe during my surgeries, as well as while I healed. I was counting on this person. I was trusting this person. 

So when about a month ago, the surgeon I had poured all of my trust into proved that that belief in him had been an error - I was...devastated. I was hurt, sad, confused...but most of all - I was PISSED. Remember that post from a few weeks back with all the swearing? Let me now break down this timeline to help explain to you what brought that all about....

Friday, February 1st - -

As I eluded to in my previous post - I discovered at my 3 week checkup that I had been given completely inaccurate post-care instruction from my surgeon and his team. Not only was I given information after our first consult that advised me to take (6) 15-20 minute walks a day when it should have been A WEEK, but it was in the packet of post-surgery notes we went over prior to leaving the surgery center. No one bothered to proofread their instruction. That level of negligence was absolutely mindboggling to me. They initially sat looking at eachother dumbfounded - insisting that directive hadn't been in their literature. I told them I'm certain it was, as that was pretty specific info for me to have just made up. Low and behold - by the time I got back out to the car, he had found his error. No apology. No nothing. Just a text that he'd found it, and was now editing his information. How? Seriously....how does that even happen?!?!? 

It was at this same appointment that I asked to confirm our next surgery (upper body) was scheduled for March 14th, which he said was set. Later that day I received a text message that we'd been pushed for another surgery that day, and we'd have to move my date. Mind you, this is a month & a half before the surgery date - - someone else NEEDED that date so badly we got pushed? Unlikely. Guessing it was never booked, and there were no options available when he finally went to secure the date. Lying to me is not a wise move.... PLEASE NOTE: for later that we discussed my 2nd surgery face-to-face and there was no mention of an issue with that plan

Sunday, February 3rd - - 

Due to a vacation I already had booked, and my care team being out of town, shifting my surgery date one week in either direction would not work. We'd have to push to the end of April, after my vacation. I sent a text advising this. I was told it was probably for the best to allow more time to heal, to which I agreed.

Monday, February 4th - -

I send a text to check that the newly agreed on date for surgery was booked - April 25th. I was told it was becoming increasingly difficult to schedule on Thursday's (his set day for larger surgeries, not mine) and we've have to push to Friday, April 26th - - he'd then do my follow-up in home Saturday 4/27.

No problem. But here's where shit starts to go really, really wrong in a hurry....and the back-and-forth mile long texts begin...

He sends me a text advising that after reviewing his OR times, the one surgery we had planned will now become 2. He cited a bunch of medical blah, blah, blah - - but regardless: how in the hell did he not know this at our first consultation? Or last Friday while I was there? Or really any time prior to now? 

At this point, I'm shocked - but hadn't taken the time to think of all of the additional costs on my end (another leave from work, more vacation sucked up prior to my short term disability kicking in, more time with decreased pay while on short term disability). I ask which surgery we're doing first - boobs or arms - and which will include the flaps on skin on the side of my body. 

And here's where the rage begins.....

Notes from my first appt, with flaps noted

He acted like we hadn't discussed the removal of the flaps and this would require an another procedure...One he had never mentioned, I didn't know existed, and he had never advised I might need during our repeated meetings and conversations. He also told me I could go "google it online". 

Now I am IRATE. 

When I ask for clarification - to insure he was telling me the flaps on skin weren't going to be addressed - he came back with a whole lot of bullshit that did nothing but solidify that fact that he didn't know my body, couldn't remember what we had discussed, and didn't seem inclined to complete the work we had discussed, and agreed to pricing on, prior to this point. 

I asked that the notes from my first appointment, as I knew his nurse had taken them. See that area circled in red where it talks about the flaps of skin on my sides near my breasts? Yep - that would be the skin we're discussing here. The skin he acted like he didn't know existed. The skin that would require another procedure to get rid of.... Liar, liar, pants on fire.

you see any flaps in the middle of my back?

Oh - fun fact - - the new procedure I needed to correct my "back and flank redundancy" and because "these flaps wrap all the way around to the middle of your back" would be another $7500. SURPRISE!!!! He did backpedal after I sent the picture of my back, and said he could do the flaps with my arms...like he didn't have pictures of my back already he could have looked at? Just laziness. He also didn't care for the fact that I told him this whole scenario wreaked of unethical...

After all of this, I was an emotional wreck. I was ready to cry one minute, scream the next, punch something the next. On Tuesday I get his nurse involved - asking is she was aware of the information I'd been provided the day before. She wasn't. I wrote up an email, detailing my feelings about the last few days. I agreed to go to a follow-up to hear the "new plan" for the remaining work I needed to get done. 

I was extremely disappointed in all aspects of how this was handled - from the texting of information this big/involved to how our meeting went that Friday when we met in person. I could no longer trust him to be my surgeon.

This is by far the biggest thing I've ever gone through. This was supposed to be an exciting, rewarding event - - where I finally got to see what was under all that flub. See what I'd been working so hard for over the last 3 years. Dr. Camp literally fucking ruined this for me. 

I wish I didn't give him that much power. I wish I wasn't phased by this - - but we had a fucking plan...and in a 4 day period he blew it up because he was in over his head, and didn't have the balls to tell me that. He didn't care enough to warn me he had never had a project this involved before. He didn't want to admit that this "exceptional case" was more than he was ready for. 

And the stupid thing is - - I'm mad at myself. I'm mad that I picked him. I'm mad that I didn't see that he wasn't the best choice for me. 

So here is what I'll share, to try and save some of you from making the mistakes I did:

• Do your homework, and ask the questions - - I didn't have a thorough understanding of what was all involved in the procedures I was having done...I figured I'd get accurate/thorough info from the doc/surgeon - but I've now learned that isn't always the case
• Have someone with you to take notes during your consultations - probably not the worst idea to record them/take pictures
• Ask for detailed information about where scars will be, how things should look after. Trust me - you'll appreciate having a heads up if you come out of there and your lady biz is all saggy/swollen/crooked....you don't want to be surprised when it looks like an anteater.
• go through post care instructions prior to surgery. In person. With a group around. Make sure you aren't walking 2 hours a day when you're supposed to walk 2 hours a week.... 
• Does your surgeon have experience with people in similar situations to you? Sure - - everyone has to have someone be their first, but it doesn't need to be you....and being the first is incredibly overrated when they're out of their depth.

My Brain vs. Plastic Surgery

As odd as this is going to sound - there is a small part of me that is kind of sad to be having these skin removal surgeries. I've gotten used to this body. I know this body. I know it's capabilities and short-comings. This loose, soft, mess of a bod has become my normal. And as much as I poke fun at my vagina neck and my scrotum arms - and as much as I bemoan when I hear my FUPA slapping against my legs - - I'm also kind of proud of this body. 

This body hung in there pretty damn well when I pushed both of our limits, taking us to almost 500#. This body tolerated those early "workouts" when every damn thing about them made it hurt. This body kept going, and kept working - shockingly never having a serious injury we needed to work around - until we gradually got to this point. 

So all of that might help explain why although I'm looking forward to this next step, my brain has had numerous doubts. This is going to seem so scattered and random - - but scattered & random is exactly what has been going on in my head the last couple of months... 

Do I really need to have FUPA removal surgery? There isn't really that much skin on my stomach... I can totally live out the remainder of my days unaffected by this... 

You have lost all shame. You rock tank tops all summer, even with your scrotum arms swaying in the breeze. Why do you need to cut off the flub? You've survived this long with them - - what's 20-40 more years? 

You are not a girl that lacks confidence...are you? What are doing this for? Who are you doing this for?

Is the cost/pain/time associated with these surgeries really necessary? I mean - it's not like there is something I'm going to be able to magically do post-surgery that I'm not able to do right now. Cutting off my FUPA is not going to make me a marathoner (my knees and hips are shot - - removing a few pounds isn't going to change that). It's not like I can't get out of bed, but I will be able to once I have my scrotum arms chopped off. 

The boobs. Good God! The boobs! This is the part I'm having the hardest time with... I mean...it will be the weirdest to suddenly have boobs after rockin' these crepes for so long. It's not like I went through something traumatic like my brave, strong, amazing friend who had a double-mastectomy, and more than earned herself a set of sweet cans. I bulked WAY up, then shrunk down a bit - and my tits packed their bags and left... Don't get me wrong - having some boobs that are actually where they're supposed to be, should be pretty sweet...but seriously...I'll be a girl who had a boob job (insert eye roll)

Is this just entirely too vain? Honestly. Vanity has felt, at times, like the only legit factor in choosing to go through this. To put myself through the pain. To make my family take care of me. To be "that girl" that was trying to attain a perfect body through surgery. I just have moments where this feels incredibly narcissistic and selfish. 

But the truth is - there is no other way to get rid of this loosey-goosey skin suit. It is not going to magically contract if I just keep applying lotion. There is no amount of exercising on the planet that is going to tighten this mess up. This is quite literally my only option to not have a swaying orb floating around me at all times. 

I share all of this to let you know that I don't take this opportunity lightly. I fully recognize how lucky I am to be able to do this, and I'm 100% committed to making the most of it. I am very aware of how amazing it is to be surrounded by the supportive, loving, kind, entertaining, giving people that I am. 

I am so excited (and intrigued, to be completely honest) to see what we've been working on the last 3 years - because this has been a group effort. There is no way I would be where I am now without you guys helping to keep me going. I'm happy I get to share the good, the bad & the ugly with you.

I cannot fathom what it will be like to actually see what is underneath all of this...flub. I genuinely cannot even picture it. It's mind boggling. 

Now let's see what's next...let's take Natalie 3.0 for a spin, and see what she can do...

Have you submitted your guess for the weight of the FUPA? Do that here: Guess the weight of the FUPA (I fixed the link)

It Puts the Lotion on the Back

I think I was born with a FUPA...I probably came out of the womb covered in goo, rocking a fupe. I don't recall a day where I didn't have one. Sure - there were varying degrees. Some smaller - some so, so large. Now it's can best be described as saggy...a loose pendulum swaying side to side with my movements. 

While I had issues working around my whole body those last few years, my stomach was definitely one of the most problematic. I couldn't bend at my waist - - so trying to get my shoes tied, get a golf ball out of the cup, and a million other things - proved nearly impossible. You should have seen me struggle to cut my toe nails, or paint them...laborious to say the least!

This most recent version and I have developed a rhythm. For most of the past couple of years I co-existed with this more deflated version of my FUPA less than consciously. It became automatic to tuck my multiple layers around it, trying to keep the crevices clean & dry -- doing my best to not develop any of the painful looking rashes/skin irritations I have seen others suffer from. It became this soft and squishy extension of myself that I honestly barely noticed...

Well...barely noticed until I'd do certain things at the gym. When I exercise, I repeatedly reposition my workout pants to try to keep them between my FUPA and upper thighs - bound and determined to avoid chafing. Any sled-pushing, and burpee-doing, would result in an audible slap of my FUPA against my legs. Scott claims he couldn't hear it, but that sound was deafening to me...

So as my FUPA and I enter the end of our time together, I've tried to pay attention. To not overlook the inconvenience it causes. To not diminish the tedium of insuring my skin is properly protected and cared for. To actually see the drawbacks of having this dangling mass hanging off my body - - not just the weight of it, but not being able to see some of the progress I've made working my ass off for the last 3 years. I have no idea what's under there, and I'm finally willing to admit I'm pretty damn excited to see it.   

I'm looking forward to having "the spread" (the extra bulk on my hips/ass that spreads out when I sit down) tightened up a bit. (pulling up my lower core area will also pull up my upper thighs/hips/ass) I may legitimately fit in my plane seat, and not have the the spread spill under the arm rests next to me! For a girl who is really happy to finally fit in a plane seat again, this is just the icing on the cake! 

The only drawback is that I will legitimately no longer have an ass. I didn't realized that until we were doing "FUPA's Last Photo Shoot" and I made that video. When I pulled up on the top of my rear, that baby was GONE! Hopefully Dr Camp can build me a little something...we all know I have the extra material... but I've also warned Scott that my return to the gym will have to be known as "Operation: Build a Booty". 

We are down to our last 9 days together. It has been nice having this time to actually observe the changes to my body more closely than I have since my weight loss surgery...and it will be weird as shit for a while when it's gone...but I adjusted to this body pretty quickly. I'm confident I'll be just fine in my new FUPA-less existence. 

Have you guessed the weight of the FUPA yet? Here is a link: FUPA Weight Guessing Game

New Year, New Natalie?

It is absolutely ridiculous that another entire year has passed! I remember when I was young, and all of the "old people" (anyone over 30) would tell me how fast time goes the older you get. I assure you, I believed that to be complete bullshit...but here I am - constantly in awe of how quickly our time seems to evaporate.

I went in to 2018 a little nervous. The newness had worn off after my surgery. I figured I had definitely lost the weight I was going to lose - - I was weighing in at 209# on January 1st - - I had blown any and every goal I had for weight loss out of the water! Now I'd have to be accountable. I'd have to stay on task. 

It was my standard M.O. to stick with a plan for a while (granted - I'd already stuck with this much longer than most) and then just completely jump ship. Abandon all of the behaviors that had created any amount of success, and go back to my old, destructive ways. 

It was scary. I was concerned that I'd need that "newness" to keep my brain engaged. I was worried that without the shiny new accomplishments rolling in one after the other, I'd lose interest like every other time in my past. I mean, really - - when was the last time I finished something? When was the last time I didn't just give up when things got a little hard? 

But then something happened. My brain finally clicked on, and realized that this whole process has been hard! 

• Admitting I needed to do something as drastic and permanent as surgery - hard. 
• Going to my bariatric appointments, both physically & mentally - hard
• Starting to work with Scott when I weighed 495# - HARD
• Being on a liquid diet for 21 days before my surgery - HARD
• Sticking with all of the nutrition and movement guidelines right after surgery - hard
• Continuing to go workout and push myself - hard
• Sticking with my eating plan, and continuing to follow the 30 minute rule - hard

I've proven I can do hard shit! And I can stick with it. Maybe I can trust myself enough...believe in myself enough...to actually accept this as my new normal. I am now a person who moves her ass, and eats what she's supposed to most of the time. I'm a person who is willing to be honest, and vulnerable, and really excited about things most people don't understand. 

I'm healthy. I'm happy. And I'm grateful. 

I'm heading into 2019 optimistic - which has been a really frightening thing for me in the past. I have this whole "it's easier to be hurt/disappointed when you were hopeful" attitude. I'm not sure when I turned into such a pansy - and now that I'm actually seeing it - I'm NOT a fan. That shit has to go. So here are a couple of things that I'm going to work on in this new year:

1. New Bod - with a new bod comes responsibility. I will have an increased obligation to myself. To get myself as ready as I can for successful surgeries and recoveries. To get back to working out as soon as safely able, and stick with it. To continue to stick to my diet. 
• FUPA removal is 1/10/19
• boobs & arms shortly after - - hopefully
2. Stop Saying "I'm Sorry" all the damn time - - not that I will never show remorse. Not that I will never owe anyone an apology. But what I'm going to try to curb is the automatic reaction within me to apologize if someone isn't 100% on board with my thoughts, statements or actions. The words "I'm sorry" come shooting out way to easy, and have lost all weight. They are just entirely too overused...I hear it all the time from others as well. Don't be sorry for everything you say, feel or do. This world needs to toughen up a little bit. There's a difference between empathy & remorse. Let's all try to be a little more empathetic...that's way more constructive as far as I'm concerned. And I'm NOT sorry to say it 😉
3. Try to turn this new life into...something - - I have no idea what that looks like, or what opportunities there are - - but I trust myself enough in this process to allow myself to try and help others. I believe I have something to offer people who are going through situations similar to mine. I've been contacted by a number of people that are considering bariatric surgery, or are just trying to live a more healthy life - - and I love it. I know it was great for me to have people to talk to that had gone through the process - - and I'd like to be that for other people. So stay tuned...or send suggestions/ideas if you have any

I know I'm a couple of days early - but here's to an ass-kicking 2019! What are your goals for yourself in the new year? 

1.5 Years. 18 Months. 72 Weeks. 546 Days.

Wednesday I hit a pretty major milestone - or at least it felt like one to me. I am coming off the most transformative 18 months of my life since....well, probably since my initial 18 months. So much has changed. So much has gotten better. So much continues to surprise me. So much is awesome. 

Part of me cannot believe how fast this time has gone, and part of me feels like it's been a million years. 

I look at that girl on the left, and it's truly becoming harder and harder to remember her. And although my first inclination may be to pity her, I quickly look to the right, and realize what a badass she was. She summoned up the courage to admit she needed help. A lot of help. She recruited her family, her friends, got herself a trainer...and she knew sharing all of this with anyone interested in following along would help her. Putting the good, the bad, and the sometimes really ugly out there would allow this overwhelming support to come into her life - - and she needed all of it.

 Because although there is a very large contingent that believes surgery is the easy way out - and I will shamefully admit I used to somewhat belong to that camp - I now realize that is just absolute bullshit. Many of the hardest times I can remember - the most challenging emotionally - have been since I walked through those doors of the bariatric department at Methodist/Park Nicollet Hospital. Between the 3 weeks of liquid diet and the strict diet for the numerous months after my surgery - - this shit was HARD!!! Now, yes - carrying 495# around was hard as well...but I'm simply stating this process is no walk in the park. 

But is it worth it? In my humble opinion, it is totally worth it. It has been, and continues to be, totally worth it! The results I have had have so far exceeded what I thought was possible. Prior to surgery, I was hopeful to get where I was at the 6 month mark (those pictures from 10/2016). I weighed 317# at that point. I'd lost 178 pounds, and was feeling damn near spry. I know I picked 225# as my goal on this ap that I use - but I truly thought there was no chance I'd get there. I thought maybe after skin removal, and if I really kept working out...I could potentially get in the vicinity - - but honestly!!! I cannot wrap my head around what is happening here!

Loose skin Video 

I know describing this experience as "weird" is completely over-simplifying - - but I honestly don't know how to accurately convey what is quite simply, disbelief. 

I feel all of the things you'd likely guess I feel: fortunate, blessed, better, healthier, more lively, more mobile....but I also feel loved and supported and more empathetic and kinder (a little bit =)) and empowered and worthy and excited and stronger - physically & emotionally.

I cannot wait to see what the next year and a half has in store.

9 Months Post-Op

** I'll try to do updated photos every 3 months. As with my 6 month shots, you'll see more of this bod than you likely want to - but I want to be as honest as I can about what this process is like/does to a body. You've had your warning =) **

It truly seems like so much longer than 9 months since that morning that I couldn't stop sweating, because that's how my nerves chose to manifest themselves. Since I put on that huge gown with the cool air hose hooked to it. Since the new nurse tried to get my IV started, unsuccessfully. Since I sat there in that bed on wheels waiting for them to take me off to surgery, genuinely concerned I wouldn't wake up. Since Dr. Jones and his team changed my life for the insanely better.

In the photos I post that have 3 pictures - the one on the left will be September 2015, the middle will be October 2016 and the right will be January 2017. I am wearing the same clothes to show that difference as well - and lets face it - - they're pretty damn comfy now! I didn't spend a lot of time trying to make everything fit just right - so they're not professional shots by any means - - but they should give you an idea.

I don't know that I see much of a change from the 6 month to the 9 month pictures, but the lighting makes me look like I have a bit of a tan, so I'll take it =) I'm so pasty white thanks to Minnesota winter!!

Putting these pictures together was a little bit more difficult than it has been in the past. I don't know if it's that I am feeling so much better, and able to do so much more now - - not sure what caused it - but I was just so genuinely sad for that girl on the left.

This 9 months has definitely been a time of self-actualization. Before my surgery, I never felt depressed. I didn't feel like I lacked confidence. I didn't realize how the choices I was making were based on what I perceived to be the best I could do instead of what I actually deserved. I didn't feel that unhappy. Sure - I had moments, but it wasn't all the time. Thank God for defense mechanisms!! I am just now starting to realize how much I was holding myself back because it was just easier to do that then want/wish/hope for things. And I think I'm about done with that shit. Time to start going for exactly what I want!

I think this back photo, which we forgot to take at 6 months, was the most shocking to me. I mean, holy shit! All of those rolls were eating my bra! Not to worry - my ass is still wide, and those hips aren't going anywhere - - but I'm fine with that. Look at the rest of my back!!! It's not just multiple big rolls anymore! Yes - I will likely have chronic back fat - but I don't give one shit! I have a back now! I can kind of see the line where my spine is. I guess all those damn rows and back exercises Scott has me doing are worth it...almost! =)

I seriously cannot get enough of looking at this comparison. It is just unbelievable how much a body can change in such a short period of time! This, ladies and gentlemen, is why you do weight training.

This one...hasn't really improved. These arms of mine are...saggy. There is muscle in there somewhere - -  I promise! But the loose skin/sagging is insane! My nieces were touching the saggy part and promptly informed me that it feels "like a boob!" Which is great news, as I could possibly just move this saggy crap over to my boobs (see picture below) so I might actually be able to fill out my bra again! The one positive of this comparison is that my wings (that part under my armpit, hanging over my bra) appear to have shrunk up a bit? Or maybe that's just wishful thinking?

 Speaking of boobs - - mine have officially left the building. On the left you can see the open/unoccupied area in the cup of my bra. That's a lot of unused space, because my poor scrotum boobs are basically poured loosely into the bottom half of the cup, and no longer have the "meat" to fill the whole thing. Let me say - YES. I know I need new bras - but seriously. I can fit my fist in the now open area. Maybe I'll put a play together called "bye, bye boobies"?

The only other drawbacks I'm experiencing at this point is my hair - - it is still falling out at an alarming rate. Hoping that will start to slow one of these days. And nothing really fits right. I seem to be in the middle of all of the sizes. Not really something worth complaining about - - but it is my reality.

So things are moving right along over here. A year will be here before I know it. I feel like that warrants some sort of celebration - - but just not sure what that should be? I'd be open to suggestions?

The FUPssiere

Sometimes...when you get yourself nice and huge, and really get your body good and stretched out, things get pretty ugly when you start to lose weight.  Back before FC, I was humongous - but things were...firmer.  Monstrous, but more solid.  As I said in the "pancake-effect" entry, I have found that the more pounds I drop - the more things move....toward the floor!  (anti-shout out to gravity!)  Melissa McCarthy's character on Mike & Molly (a cute show on CBS about 2 overweight people who are dating) said, when her mom told her she was just "big boned" - "bones don't jiggle".

I have now discovered a new level to this problem - it can be best described as "floating FUPA".  I went to bootcamp class, and there is supposed to be much jumping about, jumping jacks, etc.  I tend to do a lot of marching during these times.  When you get a lot (and by a lot, I mean A LOT) of now-looser skin and flab moving in different directions, it can get painful.  We wear sports bras for this reason - but why does it have to stop at the boobs?  I have decided that what I really need is a "FUPssiere".  It would be like a brassiere for your FUPA - something to hold everything....up and secure.

The only major issue I can think of is that if I just had a band around my FUPA, and get to jumping around, the band will just roll down.  I think I may have come up with the perfect solution!  I want to develop something that would basically look like a glorified swimsuit - but made of comfortable/breathable material.  It would combine a sports bra, a FUPssiere and granny panties (the huge, over-the-gunt underwear I use for the gym, to avoid the roll-down I spoke of earlier).  They would be like Spanxx for the gym!  Now who wouldn't buy that?!?  I might be a millionaire!  I just need someone handier than I am to design it!

I also have my first "SDtS Product Endorsement"!  This weekend I discovered Extra Dessert Delights gum.  They have a sugarless option that is called "Mint Chocolate Chip" (one of my favorite ice cream flavors).  It is 5 calories per stick, and tastes delicious!!  The flavor actually lasts for a really long time, too.  I haven't tried the other flavors, but I think this one is definitely a win!

Share your favorite low-cal treat!