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I Can Rock as Good as Gibraltar

Monday, January 12, 2009

www.youtube.com/watch?v=
jrlzNxHoAdM


I wish that Youtube had George Harrison singing this song. This is a tribute band, and they're pretty good. But, you know, it's not the same.

Good stuff started a few days ago when I saw my buddy. He got me some mahi-mahi, center cut! It was awesome. I tell ya, it pays to be friends with someone in the business.

So. I went to see my doctor today. It was last year, on the 9th of January, when she told me that I was on my way to being prediabetic, and recommended bariatric surgery. I didn't want the surgery, realized I'd have to eat better for the first 5% loss anyway so why not just lose 5% of my initial body weight (at the time, that was 17.3 lbs.) and see what happened? That was the day I had told my husband we were going to start the PET project.

PET stands for --

Portion Control
Exercise
Toss the Junk

And toss it we did. A poptart can soar like a frisbee, dontcha know. I don't want to do a full year recap right now but suffice it to say that the last time I saw my doctor, my butt was sufficiently kicked and I knew it was time to do something.

Fast forward to today. I messed up the time. I thought it was about 8 AM (in my defense, they never called me for a reminder). It was, instead, a 930 AM appointment. So I was sitting there in the lobby and saw my doctor. I said hi and she blew right past me. Now, I realize now that she didn't think she had an appointment for another hour plus (she makes rounds at the hospital across the street). And we don't hang out or anything. Shrug. I go in and the nurse takes me quickly as the receptionist isn't in yet. It's time error compounding on top of time error.

Then my doctor comes into the examining room, takes one look at me and says, "Hey, wait a second. I didn't recognize you." And she hadn't. They took blood and other, erm, fluids, and I went to the hospital to have some breakfast. I had the laptop with me so I checked email as well.

I got back, this time at the right time. We have a lovely chat. I get weighed, and learn that the scale at home is, believe it or not, overstating my weight by 4.6 lbs. She takes my pressure. 112/78. She says that's a 20-year-old's pressure. I am 46 years old.

We talk about overall goals and she agrees that 146 is very reasonable as it hits my healthy BMI range but still gives me 8 lbs. to play with. We also talk excess skin. She thinks my arms and legs will tone up and be fine. We didn't discuss my bust but did speak of my belly. She said the excess skin probably weighs about 10 lbs. and probably is going to have to be removed surgically. That's fine. I'm not wholly against surgery. What if that's the last 10 lbs. I have to lose?

She asks me a boatload of questions about what I eat, whether I work out, how I stay motivated, etc. She says the fish is great, the portion control is fabulous, using the slow cooker is smart, etc. She even asks me if she can refer patients to me if they want to talk to someone who's been there, done that. Sure, I say.

My weight on her scale is 225.0. Last year, 1/9/08, it was 346.0. Yes, gentle reader, I have lost on average 10 lbs./month.

Like George says ~~

Feel tall as the Eiffel Tower
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