Sunday, July 12, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Day 11
So far so good. I'm tolerating the Riomet very well.
Mom says I talk too much about my *ahem* "movements," however, it is a clear indication of what's going on with your body. And let's just say there has been a difference in that department for me. The urgency and consistency have changed radically for me, and I suspect for the last 11 days I've been experiencing something I haven't in a long while: regular "movements."
Overall, I am tolerating the medication very well. And my only complaint is the taste. It is very icky salty sweet with a metallic type topnote, with a perfumey aftertaste. I have to hold my nose while swigging my doses down, and immediately following with some type of liquid (usually coffee in the a.m.) just to rinse the taste out of my mouth (and to keep from vomitting).
So far, so good.
Been a bit moody. Can't tell what that's from. Could be any number of root causes:
Hormonal imbalance from PCOS;
My depression or what I suspect (as yet "officially" undiagnosed: bipolar disorder);
PMS.
Started some pre-spotting today. Not sure if this is "it" or if it's a warning that the flood gates of hell will open up and I'll be surfing the "Red Tide." It totally bypassed me for June. So if/when it finally does happen, it's not going to be a walk in the park.
Thursday, I picked up a share (as a "back up") with the local Purple Dragon food co-op. Great massive amount of veggies. Came home that night and got to washing and prepping everything that needed to be dealt with immediately (otherwise it'd just languish and rot before I get motivated enough to deal with it all--it really is an intimidating amount of veggies for me to handle all at once).
I hope this will be a good way for me to incorporate more variety and more vegetables in my diet, and also with the husband helping prep things for dinner with me doing the actual cooking, it creates one new activity for both of us to participate in, as neither of us want to be saddled with cooking when we get home, if we divide the task, it seems almost manageable.
Last night we came home, and he prepped veggies for a south Indian Korma. Tonight I don't know what I'll make. Perhaps will defrost some sausages and cook w/peppers and onions and toss in some kale and serve with gnocchi. Perhaps.
It's 6:39 p.m., I woke at 1 p.m. I've been stifling the urge to go back to bed for a nap. But I think I must plod on, get dinner started for him, and hope it all convinces him to agree with me that the co-op is a great idea.
Mom says I talk too much about my *ahem* "movements," however, it is a clear indication of what's going on with your body. And let's just say there has been a difference in that department for me. The urgency and consistency have changed radically for me, and I suspect for the last 11 days I've been experiencing something I haven't in a long while: regular "movements."
Overall, I am tolerating the medication very well. And my only complaint is the taste. It is very icky salty sweet with a metallic type topnote, with a perfumey aftertaste. I have to hold my nose while swigging my doses down, and immediately following with some type of liquid (usually coffee in the a.m.) just to rinse the taste out of my mouth (and to keep from vomitting).
So far, so good.
Been a bit moody. Can't tell what that's from. Could be any number of root causes:
Hormonal imbalance from PCOS;
My depression or what I suspect (as yet "officially" undiagnosed: bipolar disorder);
PMS.
Started some pre-spotting today. Not sure if this is "it" or if it's a warning that the flood gates of hell will open up and I'll be surfing the "Red Tide." It totally bypassed me for June. So if/when it finally does happen, it's not going to be a walk in the park.
Thursday, I picked up a share (as a "back up") with the local Purple Dragon food co-op. Great massive amount of veggies. Came home that night and got to washing and prepping everything that needed to be dealt with immediately (otherwise it'd just languish and rot before I get motivated enough to deal with it all--it really is an intimidating amount of veggies for me to handle all at once).
I hope this will be a good way for me to incorporate more variety and more vegetables in my diet, and also with the husband helping prep things for dinner with me doing the actual cooking, it creates one new activity for both of us to participate in, as neither of us want to be saddled with cooking when we get home, if we divide the task, it seems almost manageable.
Last night we came home, and he prepped veggies for a south Indian Korma. Tonight I don't know what I'll make. Perhaps will defrost some sausages and cook w/peppers and onions and toss in some kale and serve with gnocchi. Perhaps.
It's 6:39 p.m., I woke at 1 p.m. I've been stifling the urge to go back to bed for a nap. But I think I must plod on, get dinner started for him, and hope it all convinces him to agree with me that the co-op is a great idea.
Monday, July 06, 2009
On Self Abuse
I'm sitting here at work, re-reading what I just posted... and delving into my previous posts. I got as far as March 2008 and had to stop.
I'm sitting here at my desk at work stifling the tears and debating going to the restroom to sob.
I'm sitting here at my desk at work stifling the tears and debating going to the restroom to sob.
Day 6
So far no adverse effects (no more or less gastric distress than before); however, I have noticed that my *ahem* "movements" have been a bit "different" than before. No more sudden onset liquified "shame," but now it's slower and more deliberate if that makes sense. Seems like my food stays in me longer (and I can only assume so, too, does the medicine).
Been incredibly moody this past week. I can't tell if this is something new or part of the baseline of moodiness I have.
Period still is a no-show, save for a little spotting or discharge the last week of June, but by no means was it a "flow."
I wish I'd just go right into menopause at this point. I can't handle anymore hypothetical intellectualizing over whether I want to have a kid or not. I've tried, unsuccessfully, for eight years to get him "on topic," and somehow the conversation never fully resolves itself. And now, eight years later (mind you, this is on top of the near-10 years wasted with the exhusband), he wants to talk about it, yet is emotionally detached from it, and I'm beyond this discussion.
One moment, I'm too fat to get pregnant. Or I'm too high of a risk with everything else wrong with me. One moment he says, "I didn't marry you for kids, I married you to be with you." Next moment, he's talking about adoption or surrogacy in India. And yet, he has failed to respect or regard the fact that I am six years older than he, with any sense of urgency.
When I married, I was interested in having a kid. OUR kid. Someone with both sets of qualities. The romantic idea of making your "love real" and "building a family of our own." He's always had his own agenda. While I'm not trying to demonize him... we're on so totally opposite time tables for each of our lives, I feel like two meteorites passing each other in deep space. For all intents and perspectives, it LOOKS LIKE we'll collide and become one; yet in space, a degree "off" and it's a near miss.
I have such a fear of failure in every aspect of my life, I'd just assume not attempt anything out of fear of becoming an even bigger failure. And as alone as I feel now, sorting all this out on my own, I cannot even fathom the difficulty of doing this without a support system... and without my dad to guide me.
We got lost yesterday on our way home, trying to get out of Jersey City (visiting friends), and the husband talked about the whole baby topic. I was stressed about being lost, and now brings up an emotional topic for me, and it totally unraveled me to the point of needing to pull over so I could sob, as I was stifling a full-on sob-fest while driving, and did not feel safe crying while driving.
So I pulled over somewhere and just fell apart, while the husband was saying, "Gee, um, this isn't a safe place to do this." It was as safe as any, imho, and to be honest, I don't want to live anymore. Haven't for a while. This is what my life is reduced to? Why bother? I sat there sobbing without an arm around me comforting me, without words of comfort, or even attempts at any of this. We sat in the car, and I felt worlds apart.
For the record, I'm not compliant with my Lexapro anymore. Haven't sought help for what I suspect is bipolar disorder. Yet one more set of doctors to go to, ALONE, for me to deal with this, ALONE.
I have a recommendation for a therapist from an online friend. I haven't managed to make the call yet. And even if I did, I don't put much value in "talk therapy," when from a family history standpoint emotional shit/depression like this is rampant. And even if I did call... where the fuck do I start? It's all so hopeless.
Been incredibly moody this past week. I can't tell if this is something new or part of the baseline of moodiness I have.
Period still is a no-show, save for a little spotting or discharge the last week of June, but by no means was it a "flow."
I wish I'd just go right into menopause at this point. I can't handle anymore hypothetical intellectualizing over whether I want to have a kid or not. I've tried, unsuccessfully, for eight years to get him "on topic," and somehow the conversation never fully resolves itself. And now, eight years later (mind you, this is on top of the near-10 years wasted with the exhusband), he wants to talk about it, yet is emotionally detached from it, and I'm beyond this discussion.
One moment, I'm too fat to get pregnant. Or I'm too high of a risk with everything else wrong with me. One moment he says, "I didn't marry you for kids, I married you to be with you." Next moment, he's talking about adoption or surrogacy in India. And yet, he has failed to respect or regard the fact that I am six years older than he, with any sense of urgency.
When I married, I was interested in having a kid. OUR kid. Someone with both sets of qualities. The romantic idea of making your "love real" and "building a family of our own." He's always had his own agenda. While I'm not trying to demonize him... we're on so totally opposite time tables for each of our lives, I feel like two meteorites passing each other in deep space. For all intents and perspectives, it LOOKS LIKE we'll collide and become one; yet in space, a degree "off" and it's a near miss.
I have such a fear of failure in every aspect of my life, I'd just assume not attempt anything out of fear of becoming an even bigger failure. And as alone as I feel now, sorting all this out on my own, I cannot even fathom the difficulty of doing this without a support system... and without my dad to guide me.
We got lost yesterday on our way home, trying to get out of Jersey City (visiting friends), and the husband talked about the whole baby topic. I was stressed about being lost, and now brings up an emotional topic for me, and it totally unraveled me to the point of needing to pull over so I could sob, as I was stifling a full-on sob-fest while driving, and did not feel safe crying while driving.
So I pulled over somewhere and just fell apart, while the husband was saying, "Gee, um, this isn't a safe place to do this." It was as safe as any, imho, and to be honest, I don't want to live anymore. Haven't for a while. This is what my life is reduced to? Why bother? I sat there sobbing without an arm around me comforting me, without words of comfort, or even attempts at any of this. We sat in the car, and I felt worlds apart.
For the record, I'm not compliant with my Lexapro anymore. Haven't sought help for what I suspect is bipolar disorder. Yet one more set of doctors to go to, ALONE, for me to deal with this, ALONE.
I have a recommendation for a therapist from an online friend. I haven't managed to make the call yet. And even if I did, I don't put much value in "talk therapy," when from a family history standpoint emotional shit/depression like this is rampant. And even if I did call... where the fuck do I start? It's all so hopeless.
Thursday, July 02, 2009
Day Two
So far, so good.
The stuff tastes foul. It smells like it's got potential to be "tasty." Tutti-frutti or bubble gum almost; but then you get it in your mouth, it's got a salty metallic after taste which sticks to the tongue, and a near "fragrance" like effect in the nose (as if I spritzed perfume in my mouth).
Not totally offensive, but, yeah, the antithesis of "delish."
So I slurp my teaspoon down, and follow with my coffee and the rest of my breakfast.
So far, no gastric distress. I can't blame my flatulence on it, as I was quite spectacularly flatulent beforehand.
And yet, last night, after one dose in the a.m., last night I don't know if it's a mental thing, but I felt different, or a difference starting to happen on a molecular level. Skin flushed. Feeling different. Yesterday was moody, not sure if that's PMS or the medicine. It's hard to tell after only one day.
The stuff tastes foul. It smells like it's got potential to be "tasty." Tutti-frutti or bubble gum almost; but then you get it in your mouth, it's got a salty metallic after taste which sticks to the tongue, and a near "fragrance" like effect in the nose (as if I spritzed perfume in my mouth).
Not totally offensive, but, yeah, the antithesis of "delish."
So I slurp my teaspoon down, and follow with my coffee and the rest of my breakfast.
So far, no gastric distress. I can't blame my flatulence on it, as I was quite spectacularly flatulent beforehand.
And yet, last night, after one dose in the a.m., last night I don't know if it's a mental thing, but I felt different, or a difference starting to happen on a molecular level. Skin flushed. Feeling different. Yesterday was moody, not sure if that's PMS or the medicine. It's hard to tell after only one day.
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Saturday, June 27, 2009
PS: My Left Tit
It's been tender for a while.
This morning when I started to cough or clear my throat, while laying on my left side, my left breast had a piercing tingle senstation.
Date of Mamo: 7/24.
This morning when I started to cough or clear my throat, while laying on my left side, my left breast had a piercing tingle senstation.
Date of Mamo: 7/24.
A Few Mental Notes
Last week, I spotted. I don't keep a calendar, per se, so before heading to the ReproEndo guy, I always take a peek at this blog, which appears neglected, but to be honest, there's not much to report in the "down time" between visits. Unless of course, readers (what few there are to this blog) want to read and revel in my grief and depression, and how both are affecting one another. Or how I hate my job, and at times, hate myself.
Anyway, I had a conversation via email w/ReproEndo Guy this week. He's a peach. I don't expect him to reply quick, but he does; and I'd much rather zap an email he can reply to in-between patients or better yet, at his leisure.
The conversation had to do with how I just cannot reconcile continuing to PAY FOR and TAKE the Metformin XR tablets, if all I am going to do is expel them, seemingly undigested, in my 10:30 a.m. bowel movement.
Literally, it looks like a PayDay candy bar. And though I'm not one for PayDays (I'm more of a Snickers or Baby Ruth gal myself, iff'n when I indulge), but now I just can't bring myself to even THINK about putting a PayDay in my mouth.
He zapped back, "I hope you'll reconsider Riomet."
"Riomet? What's that?" I replied.
I don't take notes from office visit to office visit, but I'd remember if a medication was recommended!
Turns out for folks who have difficulties swallowing the big ol' horse tablets, Riomet is a liquid form of Metformin.
Of course, as fate would have it, this email conversation took place AFTER I had just gotten my Metformin XR refilled, so now I have a month's worth of tablets that I cannot return to the pharmacy.
I just could not justify the expense (granted my co-pays are $20, but STILL), but more importantly taking medication such as this (at such a high dosage), God only knows what it'll ultimately do to my liver, and NOT get benefit from it because it hasn't been in my system long enough.
We're still on board for either gastric bypass or banding for 2010. My dad's death really has thrown me for a loop, and I cannot do anything drastic this year.
I do not know if my persistent depression (clinical? bipolar? who gives a shit) is feeding my grief over the loss of dad (the alienation, the inability to communicate verbally is killing me a little each day); or is the grief fueling the depression, like a locomotive, pushing it forward.
In addition to this, I hate my job with a white, hot passion. I hate what it has done to me. And I live every day hoping to get fired (so I can at least collect unemployment) or have some type of attack or meltdown (so I can go on disability).
On top of this, I am married to a man who is not outwardly demonstrative, and is only affectionate when he wants sex. And let's face it, after everything I have just pecked out... why would I want to have sex?
Furthermore, despite his declaration today (only after I sat in a fog and was sobbing), "You know I love you, right? 10 years, 20 years, 30 years from now, I'll still love you..." I worry sometimes that these types of declarations, which are not INITIATED by his own wont, but is a reaction to me, or what he thinks I want to hear... I worry it may be too late for it to render me human again.
From August 2008 until October when dad ultimately passed, he had only gone with me on that long drive twice (once was after I got in a car accident due to grief and worry and sleep deprivation; and the other was that dad was DYING). And due to the husband's interview at INS landing on the unfortunate date of dad's Memorial Service, nearly every aspect of dad's final hospitalization and passing... I went through ALONE. I'm blessed my sister, brother, and mother all were able to be there more daily; but for me, I had to go through what I had to go through without the physical support of my spouse. He went with me the morning dad passed, so I could lay eyes on him one final time in repose (no formal viewing; direct cremation after we left).
I feel like a husk of what a human should be.
And if you see me on the street or at work or at my weekly knit night, and I'm smiling and laughing to the point of tears, or just plain FUNCTIONING, it's all a coping mechanism.
I just want to die in my sleep.
Anyway, I had a conversation via email w/ReproEndo Guy this week. He's a peach. I don't expect him to reply quick, but he does; and I'd much rather zap an email he can reply to in-between patients or better yet, at his leisure.
The conversation had to do with how I just cannot reconcile continuing to PAY FOR and TAKE the Metformin XR tablets, if all I am going to do is expel them, seemingly undigested, in my 10:30 a.m. bowel movement.
Literally, it looks like a PayDay candy bar. And though I'm not one for PayDays (I'm more of a Snickers or Baby Ruth gal myself, iff'n when I indulge), but now I just can't bring myself to even THINK about putting a PayDay in my mouth.
He zapped back, "I hope you'll reconsider Riomet."
"Riomet? What's that?" I replied.
I don't take notes from office visit to office visit, but I'd remember if a medication was recommended!
Turns out for folks who have difficulties swallowing the big ol' horse tablets, Riomet is a liquid form of Metformin.
Of course, as fate would have it, this email conversation took place AFTER I had just gotten my Metformin XR refilled, so now I have a month's worth of tablets that I cannot return to the pharmacy.
I just could not justify the expense (granted my co-pays are $20, but STILL), but more importantly taking medication such as this (at such a high dosage), God only knows what it'll ultimately do to my liver, and NOT get benefit from it because it hasn't been in my system long enough.
We're still on board for either gastric bypass or banding for 2010. My dad's death really has thrown me for a loop, and I cannot do anything drastic this year.
I do not know if my persistent depression (clinical? bipolar? who gives a shit) is feeding my grief over the loss of dad (the alienation, the inability to communicate verbally is killing me a little each day); or is the grief fueling the depression, like a locomotive, pushing it forward.
In addition to this, I hate my job with a white, hot passion. I hate what it has done to me. And I live every day hoping to get fired (so I can at least collect unemployment) or have some type of attack or meltdown (so I can go on disability).
On top of this, I am married to a man who is not outwardly demonstrative, and is only affectionate when he wants sex. And let's face it, after everything I have just pecked out... why would I want to have sex?
Furthermore, despite his declaration today (only after I sat in a fog and was sobbing), "You know I love you, right? 10 years, 20 years, 30 years from now, I'll still love you..." I worry sometimes that these types of declarations, which are not INITIATED by his own wont, but is a reaction to me, or what he thinks I want to hear... I worry it may be too late for it to render me human again.
From August 2008 until October when dad ultimately passed, he had only gone with me on that long drive twice (once was after I got in a car accident due to grief and worry and sleep deprivation; and the other was that dad was DYING). And due to the husband's interview at INS landing on the unfortunate date of dad's Memorial Service, nearly every aspect of dad's final hospitalization and passing... I went through ALONE. I'm blessed my sister, brother, and mother all were able to be there more daily; but for me, I had to go through what I had to go through without the physical support of my spouse. He went with me the morning dad passed, so I could lay eyes on him one final time in repose (no formal viewing; direct cremation after we left).
I feel like a husk of what a human should be.
And if you see me on the street or at work or at my weekly knit night, and I'm smiling and laughing to the point of tears, or just plain FUNCTIONING, it's all a coping mechanism.
I just want to die in my sleep.
Monday, May 25, 2009
I can't stop sleeping
My bio-rhythms are all messed up. I no sooner get up and do things, and want to curl back up in a ball and escape to sleep.
Stress and depression I am sure are motivating it. I'm a bit non-compliant with my lexapro... though even if I am taking it as prescribed, I have problems, intense problems getting out of bed.
Futility with my own weight, my health, and dealing with my grief over dad's passing. I'm still in shock and sad over it and missing him intensely. On top of this, I now have the reputation within my family of being a flake, as when I promise to visit (which involves a 2.5 hour drive, one-way, to get there) only for me to bail out at the last moment... it's all just so toxic. My visits are fraught with frustration. I live a quiet life in comparison to the loud chaos of my visits. Don't want to rehash everything all over again, but I'm just tired of it all.
I don't even have the energy to delve into it today. Today, Memorial Day, is gorgeous. And all I want to do is sleep.
At least I got showered.
That's my accomplishment today.
Stress and depression I am sure are motivating it. I'm a bit non-compliant with my lexapro... though even if I am taking it as prescribed, I have problems, intense problems getting out of bed.
Futility with my own weight, my health, and dealing with my grief over dad's passing. I'm still in shock and sad over it and missing him intensely. On top of this, I now have the reputation within my family of being a flake, as when I promise to visit (which involves a 2.5 hour drive, one-way, to get there) only for me to bail out at the last moment... it's all just so toxic. My visits are fraught with frustration. I live a quiet life in comparison to the loud chaos of my visits. Don't want to rehash everything all over again, but I'm just tired of it all.
I don't even have the energy to delve into it today. Today, Memorial Day, is gorgeous. And all I want to do is sleep.
At least I got showered.
That's my accomplishment today.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Kanten?
Kanten = Agar Agar, and apparently it has therapeutic effects for folks with poor metabolism or insulin resistance problems.
Going to plop this down here for my future reference at home.
I don't know if I am on to something or what; however, apparently it contains no carbohydrates.
Already I am envisioning using this as a tomato aspic w/some spicy jalapeno, green onion, crunchy cucumber and celery and some V8. Or an aspic of lapsang souchong, and some hardboiled "marbled" eggs (boiled, cracked, and simmered with some soy sauce in lapsang souchong tea, and left to soak, then cool). I don't know. Crazy talk, perhaps. But if this shit can help stave off my near constant hunger, I'll try just about anything.
Just got off phone w/local market that carries Kanten; $8.99 per 1 oz container of flakes.
Note to self:
2 gm->1Cup water
28 gm = 1 oz
Going to plop this down here for my future reference at home.
I don't know if I am on to something or what; however, apparently it contains no carbohydrates.
Already I am envisioning using this as a tomato aspic w/some spicy jalapeno, green onion, crunchy cucumber and celery and some V8. Or an aspic of lapsang souchong, and some hardboiled "marbled" eggs (boiled, cracked, and simmered with some soy sauce in lapsang souchong tea, and left to soak, then cool). I don't know. Crazy talk, perhaps. But if this shit can help stave off my near constant hunger, I'll try just about anything.
Just got off phone w/local market that carries Kanten; $8.99 per 1 oz container of flakes.
Note to self:
2 gm->1Cup water
28 gm = 1 oz
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Struggles w/Atkins
Last Monday was the first full day of genuinely being "ON" Atkins. I believe my daily carb count for the entire day was in the neighborhood of 15?
Monday night, I woke up with a ferocious charlie horse in each calf muscle.
Tuesday morning, I woke up feeling out of sorts, and every muscle in my body aching. I can only deduce it's from a build-up of lactic acid from the protein laden food intake on Monday.
So sick, stayed home Tuesday. Drank plenty of water, and went back to bed at 8:30 a.m., after calling in sick. Stayed in bed until 4:30. Just miserable.
Now? My heart isn't "in it," and I'm rethinking the whole idea. Even though I had lofty ideas of incorporating my "Fiber 35" shakes (each w/a net carb of 8, and not too horrible tasting, yet very very filling), as well as catabolic veggies, this time around on Atkins.
My life is too on-the-go for a regimen which requires me to sit with a knife and fork. Atkins isn't very portable. Yet, after the induction period, I know I'll feel better. But the induction period is enough to make me lose my mind.
Seriously.
Feeling a bit morally dejected, and flawed, and furious at something I cannot see (my pancreas, DNA, what have you).
My word (even to myself) has no meaning. My word and promise to myself that this time would be different, that I'd conquer this demon... it's all empty, hollow, meaningless.
I've failed yet again.
Monday night, I woke up with a ferocious charlie horse in each calf muscle.
Tuesday morning, I woke up feeling out of sorts, and every muscle in my body aching. I can only deduce it's from a build-up of lactic acid from the protein laden food intake on Monday.
So sick, stayed home Tuesday. Drank plenty of water, and went back to bed at 8:30 a.m., after calling in sick. Stayed in bed until 4:30. Just miserable.
Now? My heart isn't "in it," and I'm rethinking the whole idea. Even though I had lofty ideas of incorporating my "Fiber 35" shakes (each w/a net carb of 8, and not too horrible tasting, yet very very filling), as well as catabolic veggies, this time around on Atkins.
My life is too on-the-go for a regimen which requires me to sit with a knife and fork. Atkins isn't very portable. Yet, after the induction period, I know I'll feel better. But the induction period is enough to make me lose my mind.
Seriously.
Feeling a bit morally dejected, and flawed, and furious at something I cannot see (my pancreas, DNA, what have you).
My word (even to myself) has no meaning. My word and promise to myself that this time would be different, that I'd conquer this demon... it's all empty, hollow, meaningless.
I've failed yet again.
Friday, May 08, 2009
Atkins, Redux
Attempting to get back on Atkins.
This time I'm going to attempt to include more Atkins-friendly catabolic vegetables. Atkins isn't all that portable, nor convenient for that matter, so A LOT of planning is necessary.
GAH.
This time I'm going to attempt to include more Atkins-friendly catabolic vegetables. Atkins isn't all that portable, nor convenient for that matter, so A LOT of planning is necessary.
GAH.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
.
Onset of menses: 4/24
Aside: This is the six month mark since dad died. I'm no where's past my shock.
Aside: This is the six month mark since dad died. I'm no where's past my shock.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
The Status Thus Far: Post Visit
My visit to the ReproEndo guy went "well." Not spectacular.
Here are my figures:
Weight lost/gained: +7 (up 7 lbs from the 14 I lost between Aug & Nov)
BP: 120/80 (Missed the night-before's dose and that morning's dose)
Onset of menses: 3/14
Last menses: 1/21
Glucose Fasting: 111 (Range 65-99 mg/dL)
Uric Acid: 7.3 (Range 2.5-7.0 mg/dL)
Triglycerides: 168 (Range <150 mg/dL)
AST: 31 (Range 10-30 U/L)
ALT: 52 (Range 6-40 U/L)
Microalbumin, random urine: 66 (Range <30 mcg/mg Creat)
Insulin, serum: 39 (Range<17 uIU/mL)
DHEA Sulfate: 619 (Range 25-220 mcg/dL)
Testosterone, % free: 2.0 (Range 0.5-1.8 Percent)
Course of action:
After reminding the doc that five years ago when I was on Actos instead of Metformin XR, I was able to maintain a better weight (roughly 20 lbs less) and that my triglycerides was better), he flipped through his notes from the last five years' worth of visits and noticed I was correct.
He decided to write an Rx for Actos to be taken in conjunction with my Metformin XR.
Additionally, he cut my blood pressure medication in half. So even though my weight shifted back up (as I said it would, as the loss was not a "trend" but a result of sleeping too much due to my grief and depression), I am looking at the halving of my blood pressure medication as a promising indicator that at least my pressure has improved.
No discussion of the by-pass. As I laid down the ground rule in November, that if he took the discussion off the table due to what he thought was a trend, and if/when I gained the weight back, I'm going to balk on the surgery. I can't get my hopes up and have them dashed in three month increments.
Next visit: 3 months
Left with scrip for bloods, and a jug for a 24 hr urine collection. Fun.
Here are my figures:
Weight lost/gained: +7 (up 7 lbs from the 14 I lost between Aug & Nov)
BP: 120/80 (Missed the night-before's dose and that morning's dose)
Onset of menses: 3/14
Last menses: 1/21
Glucose Fasting: 111 (Range 65-99 mg/dL)
Uric Acid: 7.3 (Range 2.5-7.0 mg/dL)
Triglycerides: 168 (Range <150 mg/dL)
AST: 31 (Range 10-30 U/L)
ALT: 52 (Range 6-40 U/L)
Microalbumin, random urine: 66 (Range <30 mcg/mg Creat)
Insulin, serum: 39 (Range<17 uIU/mL)
DHEA Sulfate: 619 (Range 25-220 mcg/dL)
Testosterone, % free: 2.0 (Range 0.5-1.8 Percent)
Course of action:
After reminding the doc that five years ago when I was on Actos instead of Metformin XR, I was able to maintain a better weight (roughly 20 lbs less) and that my triglycerides was better), he flipped through his notes from the last five years' worth of visits and noticed I was correct.
He decided to write an Rx for Actos to be taken in conjunction with my Metformin XR.
Additionally, he cut my blood pressure medication in half. So even though my weight shifted back up (as I said it would, as the loss was not a "trend" but a result of sleeping too much due to my grief and depression), I am looking at the halving of my blood pressure medication as a promising indicator that at least my pressure has improved.
No discussion of the by-pass. As I laid down the ground rule in November, that if he took the discussion off the table due to what he thought was a trend, and if/when I gained the weight back, I'm going to balk on the surgery. I can't get my hopes up and have them dashed in three month increments.
Next visit: 3 months
Left with scrip for bloods, and a jug for a 24 hr urine collection. Fun.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Sunday, January 11, 2009
No Real Update
Fell on 12/28.
Got a stomach bug 1/1.
Got my period 1/5.
Go for bloodwork 1/19.
Next visit with specialist: 2/17 I think... or the 21st. Gotta check my blotter at work.
Nothing pertinent to share. Other than I went back on my lexapro due to uncontrolled crying jags. Luckily I have a little stash of it at home. Gotta go back to a doctor for a refill.
Got a stomach bug 1/1.
Got my period 1/5.
Go for bloodwork 1/19.
Next visit with specialist: 2/17 I think... or the 21st. Gotta check my blotter at work.
Nothing pertinent to share. Other than I went back on my lexapro due to uncontrolled crying jags. Luckily I have a little stash of it at home. Gotta go back to a doctor for a refill.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Almost Lost in the Fray
10/17 Upper Endoscopy.
10/21 Onset of menses.
10/24 Dad passed.
11/4 Office visit with ReproEndoGuy.
Pounds lost as of August appointment: 3
Pounds lost as of November appointment: 11
Result: ReproEndoGuy has rescinded discussion regarding gastric bypass, citing the weight loss over the last six months is, in his opinion, a trend, and not what I believe is a fluke as a result of the last three months of dad's hospitalization & his ultimate passing.
Next appointment: February 16th.
Results of endoscopy: Inconclusive. Everything photographed was pink, and biopsy came back clean, no cancer, no heliobacter pylorii. Just a little irritation. Will discuss with GastroGuy the idea of a colonoscopy, just to round things out, and rule out all other possible causes of distress and disorder.
Next appointment: December-ish.
10/21 Onset of menses.
10/24 Dad passed.
11/4 Office visit with ReproEndoGuy.
Pounds lost as of August appointment: 3
Pounds lost as of November appointment: 11
Result: ReproEndoGuy has rescinded discussion regarding gastric bypass, citing the weight loss over the last six months is, in his opinion, a trend, and not what I believe is a fluke as a result of the last three months of dad's hospitalization & his ultimate passing.
Next appointment: February 16th.
Results of endoscopy: Inconclusive. Everything photographed was pink, and biopsy came back clean, no cancer, no heliobacter pylorii. Just a little irritation. Will discuss with GastroGuy the idea of a colonoscopy, just to round things out, and rule out all other possible causes of distress and disorder.
Next appointment: December-ish.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Obesity: The Last Socially Acceptable Bias
Woman Kicked Out of New Zealand For Being Too Fat Posted on 02 September 2008
They were planning to start a new life in a new country but Rowan Trezise, age 33, has been told by the government of New Zealand that she and her husband may have to look elsewhere for a place to live, because she is too fat to be allowed into the country.
Although both husband and wife were too fat for admittance when they first applied Mr. Trezise, a submarine cable specialist who was once a member of the British Army, has managed to shed two inches from his waistline thereby meeting the standards set for a work visa.
Mrs. Trezise however has not met the goal set for her and is therefore barred.
The couple were informed that New Zealand bars overweight people because of the potential burden they pose to the national health care system. According to New Zealand Robyn Toomath, spokesman of “Fight the Obesity Epidemic” a New Zealand organization dealing with the problems posed by overweight people:
“The immigration department can’t afford to import people who are going to be a significant drain on our health resources.
“You can see the logic in assessing if there is a significant health cost associated with this individual and that would be a reason for them not coming in.”
New Zealand’s Immigration Service has not said how many people have been bared from entering the country due to their weight but according to the Emigrate New Zealand website that number is fairly high. Unless Rowan Trezise can shed the weight by Christmas the couple say they will abandon their plans to relocate to New Zealand.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Perpetual Headshaking
Head is perpetually shaking itself to indicate "no." To whom or what? I haven't a clue.
Flow started yesterday; last one started 7/27, so I'm averaging close to a month and a half as my menstrual cycle, roughly 45 days.
I hit 40 in August.
Each successive cycle is worse than before.
I just want to go in and get my fertility mourning over for good. Time and circumstance, marriage, divorce, remarriage. The medical problems and the men in my life have made the decision for me, and for the ultimate choice of whether I'll ever be a mother, as well as have a flesh and blood child of my own.
It is pointless for me to continue on the way I am, fooling myself--an old woman, that I stand a snowball's chance in Satan's asscrack, of becoming pregnant, or even the luxury of thinking I even had a choice in the matter. There's no fool like an old fool.
I'll be spending the day dabbing at my eyes, popping Midol, as well as Googling, "elective hysterectomy."
All this blood is pointless. Absolutely pointless.
Flow started yesterday; last one started 7/27, so I'm averaging close to a month and a half as my menstrual cycle, roughly 45 days.
I hit 40 in August.
Each successive cycle is worse than before.
I just want to go in and get my fertility mourning over for good. Time and circumstance, marriage, divorce, remarriage. The medical problems and the men in my life have made the decision for me, and for the ultimate choice of whether I'll ever be a mother, as well as have a flesh and blood child of my own.
It is pointless for me to continue on the way I am, fooling myself--an old woman, that I stand a snowball's chance in Satan's asscrack, of becoming pregnant, or even the luxury of thinking I even had a choice in the matter. There's no fool like an old fool.
I'll be spending the day dabbing at my eyes, popping Midol, as well as Googling, "elective hysterectomy."
All this blood is pointless. Absolutely pointless.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)