I’ve been back on plan since Monday morning, and have been a good girl ever since (even though there’s company-provided (and free) barbecue just taunting me from the refrigerator right now).

I got my ultrasound results back today and while I’m relieved, I’m also more baffled than ever.  The nurse said they were completely normal.  So, no thyroid cancer! Hallelujah!  However, where the confusion lies is what in the hell is causing the hypothyroid symptoms and supposed enlarged thyroid?  Several of my labs were normal, but my TSH level was sky-high.  I want to know why.  Unfortunately, answers seem to be scarce in the medical field.  For me, at least.  This week is a little crazy, so I think I’ll call next week and see if she can fit me in to talk to me.

My plan will probably slip a bit this weekend since my friends are coming into town, and then I have family (on both of my parents’ sides) coming into town the following weekend.  But, I figure as long as I stay completely on plan during the week, then hopefully any damage sustained over the weekends won’t be too bad.  I probably don’t have to worry about this weekend, because my friends that are coming eat really healthily (and like birds).  You guys know I love you anyway!  

I’m really getting excited about seeing them!  As I said, it’s been since January since I saw them last and they’re stopping through on their way to moving to California.  I hope to visit them there, since I’ve never been to California, but that will probably have to wait until after the first of the year.

Right now, I’m planning on taking Friday and Tuesday off, with the idea in the back of my head of swinging it to get Monday off, too.  My boss says there’s no problem with it.  I just have to decide if I can risk using my last vacation day this early in the year.  A five day weekend sounds like pure heaven, though, doesn’t it?

I’m doing somewhat better than I was last weekend, but I’m still so tired all of the time.  Hopefully I can keep up with them!

Well, I’ll try to keep you guys updated with my adventures over the weekend, but if not, then you’ll hear about it all next week!  Thank you all for your encouraging comments on my post the other day.  They made my smile and lifted my spirits.  You guys are the best!

Post from: Uncovering Pamela

Weigh-In 8/19/08

I also got nothing at all done.  And believe me, there was quite a long list of things to be accomplished.  It’s hard to find it in yourself to care, though, when you’re completely exhausted and feeling like crap.

I have my ultrasound in about 5 1/2 hours.  I’ll let you know how it goes.  I hope you got through your weekend better than I did!

Post from: Uncovering Pamela

Weekend Schmeekend

For the past couple of weeks I’ve felt like I’ve been on a supercharged anxiety hot air balloon that just keeps the anxiety rising and rising and rising.  I feel like things are thrown at me right and left and my brain is shutting down in the midst of all that I feel I have to worry about.  I know, why worry, but my brain just doesn’t work like that.

Among all of the other minor irritations of life, my health has been first and foremost in my mind.  I got my blood test results back today and I have been diagnosed with Subclinical Hypothyroidism.  Yeah, huh?  Apparently it’s almost Hypothyroidism, but some of my levels aren’t quite low enough yet to be classified as full-blown Hypothyroidism.  Also, in doing some online research, there seems to be quite a bit of controversy over whether it should be treated or not.  My doctor has taken the, “I don’t think you need medication now,” strain of thought.  Hence a great deal of my stress.  Untreated, Subclinical Hypothyroidism can lead to cardiac problems.  Though, that’s about the least of my worries right now.

My major worries are in the fact that she seems to be completely overlooking the multiple symptoms I’m already showing.  Subclinical Hypothyroidism seems to be most often left untreated when the patient is symptom-free.  I have a great many of them already.  Not the least of which is complete fatigue (in my cause, exhaustion).  I’m tired ALL of the time, regardless of how much sleep I get.  I also mentioned that over the course of the past several months, my voice has gotten scratchier.  I often can’t get through an episode of speaking with out getting choked up and having to cough.  I find myself coughing more often when I’m eating, I’m sensitive to cold, am having short-term memory issues, and a variety of other issues.  Last, but not least, for the past week or so I’ve felt like someone is constantly holding on to my throat and squeezing.  There’s just this constant pressure at the front of my throat.  Which makes sense if my thyroid is enlarged.  It’s not exactly pleasant.

Due to my aunt’s history of thyroid cancer, my doctor is having me go in for a thyroid ultrasound bright and early Monday morning (7:30 am! How in the world am I going to do that?  I guess I might just stay up).  I guess I’ll see what happens after that.  After getting the results, and seeing what the doctor says, I will probably try to accomplish the impossible and get an appointment to go in and talk to her about it.  She’s a hard one to get an appointment with - we’re talking scheduling months in advance.  So, we’ll see.  And if I can’t get in to see her, or I don’t think she’s taking me seriously, then I’ll go to my primary care physician, and if I don’t think he’s taking me seriously, I’ll find someone else, gosh darnit!

Of course, the additional cost of the ultrasound (another $300+) is adding to the stress, since my medical bills from the past month are already well over the amount I have.  And I still don’t know how much those blood tests were.

I’ve just been a nervous wreck.  I don’t think there’s been a single instance over the past three weeks where I haven’t felt totally anxious.  Diana, I keep trying your dark-theater trick, but it’s stopped working for me! I just can’t get my mind to shut down!

There’s also lots of extended-family drama going on to add to the pressure, but that’s a story for another day.

Two of my very bestest friends in the entire world are coming into town next weekend (the 22nd-25) and I’m so excited!  I haven’t seen them since January, so I’m really looking forward to catching up.  I believe it’s their longest visit to my city ever, so I’m excited to show them the town, but I’m a little nervous that they might get bored!

The following weekend, my aunt and uncle from Nebraska are coming down to see us.  The very same weekend, my uncle and his partner (of 10+ years) are coming into town for my uncle’s high school reunion.  However, my uncle’s partner doesn’t feel like going to the reunion, so wants to know what I’m doing Saturday night.  He’s only a couple years older than me and is an absolute hoot, but I really don’t know him all that well and have no idea how to entertain him.  Plus, it seems kind of rude to run off while my other aunt and uncle are here.  We’re all getting together for breakfast that Saturday morning, which has caused all kinds of further extended-family drama.  Maybe one of these days I’ll give you guys the scoop.  I’m sure it’d be rather entertaining for those outside of the immediate story.

So, yeah, lots going on.  And that’s just about 1/4 of it.  So, I keep telling myself, happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts.  I need to find a “happy place” to go to.  I never could get my mind to shut down, though.  In fact, I had somewhat of a meltdown earlier today.  It wasn’t pretty.

So now that you’ve read through all of this, which I’m sure was entirely too much information, what do you do when you get stressed?  How do you relax?  Do you have a happy place?

Post from: Uncovering Pamela

Happy Thoughts, Happy Thoughts…

I just need to look at the positives.

• At least it was only a pound;
• It’s only one week;
• I got right back on plan Monday morning; and
• I still have more than half of that darn Hershey bar left (king size) and I’ve had it for three weeks.  I’d say that’s definitely a non-scale victory (NSV) to be proud of, right?

I’m not quite sure what my deal has been the last couple of weeks, but I’ve been really, really tired.  Like sleep for 8-9 hours, and still want to fall into bed the second I get home from work kind of tired.  Needless to say, my exercise has slacked off quite a bit.  I tried to climb the stairs at work last night and I could only make it six flights and had to come back down.  I’ve decided to cut myself some slack until I get the blood results back and find out if something’s going on, or if it’s all in my head.

Weight:  180.1 (+1.0)

Total lost:  162.8

How’s everyone else doing?

Post from: Uncovering Pamela

Weigh-In 8/12/08

Half of Overweight Adults May Be Heart-Healthy

So enough with the stereotypes and witch hunts already!

Post from: Uncovering Pamela

Obesity Article

As far as the highs, my mom suckered me into getting up at an ungodly hour Sunday morning to walk in the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure breast cancer walk.  My mom is currently a two year survivor of breast cancer.  She was really lucky in that they caught it early due to yearly mammograms.

To avoid traffic that morning, we (including my aunt and cousins) decided to stay at a hotel right next to the race start/finish line.  It was very convenient.  The hotel is beautiful, but there are SO many people that stay there (business people and such) that the elevator situation is a nightmare.  We eventually figured out that it’s best to take the escalator up a floor and then ride the elevator down and back up.  It’s a pain, but it’s much more likely you’ll actually get on an elevator, rather than trying to ride it straight up.

The hotel has this beautiful waterfall on the second floor:

Saturday night, my aunt’s boss and his family took us to dinner at the nicest restaurant in the hotel.  Way out of my normal price range, so I can’t imagine what his total bill for everyone was (there were 10 of us).  The dinner was delicious, and I did good.  Once I realized there was skin on the chicken, I immediately (and tactfully) shoved it to the side to get to the good stuff.  Also, I’ve learned that if you ever are worried about clearing your plate, sit next to a 10-year-old and get him talking about video games.  By the time you get to take another bite, everyone will be done and they’ll be clearing the plates from the table.  My cousin’s stepson is a terrific kid, though.  So bright!

I did amazingly well at the hotel.  I was pretty proud of myself.  I usually use hotel stays as a “go” sign to go totally off plan.  This time I tracked as best I could and didn’t go on a binge at the snack machine.  I even took a cooler with my own snacks and breakfast:  yogurt, sandwich, grapes, cottage cheese.

The race started bright and early Sunday morning.  It had rained all night, and since we had very thin white t-shirts to wear, I was very grateful that it had decided to stop.     There was a cool breeze when the race started, so it was the perfect morning for it.  By the time the race was over, though, the temperature had become quite steamy.

My mom still doesn’t have quite the energy that she did before her cancer treatments, so we only did the one mile walk.  I was extremely proud of her, though.  She’s my hero.

Here’s a couple of photos from the walk.

According to the news, there were more than 24,000 participants this year and they raised over 1.2 million dollars.  Here’s a picture of some people crossing the finish line:

Here is a picture of the Kansas City Liberty Memorial, which houses the National World War I Museum:

And here is my mom and I in front of Union Station after finishing the race.  I blanked out her face in case she’d rather not have her picture plastered across the internet…

Of course, my low then proceeded to hit Sunday night.  I don’t know what my deal was, or where it came from, but I went WAY over my weekly flex points.  I’m not even sure how it happened and I’m a little disgusted with myself.  (Not to mention a little sick right now.) 

As always, I’m hopeful, but don’t be too surprised if you see a gain from me on Tuesday.  I won’t be.  I guess it’s proof that you’re never quite cured from the powers of overeating.

Did you do anything fun this weekend?

Post from: Uncovering Pamela

Komen Race for the Cure

I think I could be happy at 170, but should I be?  Is it okay to be a woman that is okay with weighing 170?

And why do I even care if others think it’s okay or not?

Lots of thoughts running around in here today.

I’ve written before about my love of Brene Brown’s work.  She is a shame researcher, but the best thing about her is that she admits to being a work in progress.  I can’t imagine her ever claiming to be perfect.  For someone who has suffered with shame practically her entire life, it is very thought-provoking.  She posted today about a recent experience that she had where she felt shame.  You can read about it here.

One of her students made a very accurate observation that made me wonder about my own feelings of shame.  In those instances where I’ve felt shame, were my feelings of shame built upon the actual situation and/or perceived slight?  Or were they more feelings of shame for having left myself open and vulnerable to those situations?

Something to think about…

Post from: Uncovering Pamela

Deep Breaths

British Schools Ban The Word Obese

It got me thinking about how I feel about the word and brought back horrible nightmares of my own elementary school years.

Obese, fat, overweight.  They all generally mean the same thing, but each word has a very unique connotation to it.  I despise the word obese.  I don’t quite hate it as much as I did before I started Weight Watchers, but the very word made me cringe.  Probably because it hit a little too close to home.  I also dislike the word fat.

And it’s not actually the words themselves that I have a problem with, because a word can’t be negative.  It’s the connotation itself that becomes the issue.  The meaning that people place on the word.  I feel that both of these words have become almost hate words or insults in the current world, when the words themselves were created to merely describe a medical condition.

As I said, this article brought back memories of my own elementary school days.  My gym class was a horror.  My gym teacher herself probably inspired multiple scary movies.  She was so proud of being “on the cutting edge” of physical fitness.  Every so often, we would have to go through these almost military physical examinations.  How much did I weigh, how tall was I, how many push-ups could I do, how many sit-ups could I do, how many pull-ups could I do, etc.  And then she would create these lovely computer printouts of data analyzing all of these test results, including percentiles.  Of course, after I started gaining weight, my test results probably saw a rapid decline.  In fact, maybe it was all of the pressure to excel that made me start gaining weight. There we go!  I’m going to blame my elementary school gym teacher for my weight problems.

The main issue I had with this was that she would hand out these reports to us in class and expect us to take them home to our parents.  I don’t remember actually handing them over to my mom, but being the good girl that I was, I’m sure I did.  In fact, they’re probably still in a box somewhere.  I’d love to find them some day.  But the problem with this was that in a class of 30-some kids, there are multiple sets of prying eyes.  Inevitably, everyone’s results would get out whether you intended for them to or not (which, of course, I didn’t).  So within a matter of hours, the entire grade would know how much you weigh.  I remember one time in particular that someone saw my weight and it became a source of ridicule for several weeks after that.  Okay, it never really let up.  I remember exactly one person standing up for me.

Of course, I have lots of other stories such as this.  Like the time in 5th grade when my nemesis dubbed me ”beach ball.”  Yeah, I went to school with some great kids.  Don’t get me wrong, they weren’t all like that, but the ones who were were so vocal as to overshadow any good school memories I may have had of those years.  Needless to say, I hated elementary school.

To top it off, my school was one of the only schools in the area using the skinfold or caliper test for measuring body fat.  So during this portion of our exam, you had to stand there in front of the entire class while she pulled at your underarm fat or side fat and pinched you with those damn things.  Yes, traumatizing.  The idea is enough to make me shudder 20 years later.

So, that really long story was to say that while I’m okay with the word obese being used as merely a medical description, I don’t think that it should be said to the actual child.  As long as these letters are completely sealed and mailed directly to the parents, I don’t think I’d have a problem with that term being used.  With children of a younger age, I think it is the parents’ responsibility to decide how to handle it without devastating that child’s self-esteem.  In my case, if our exams had been handled a bit more tactfully, and those reports had been sent directly to my parents, I would never have had to face that ridicule from my classmates having known my weight.  Yes, I’d still get made fun of because it was obvious that I was overweight, but they wouldn’t have had that additional factual ammunition to throw at me.

Before I actually publish any post on my website, I usually go back and re-read it to make sure that it make sense.  Of course, many of them still don’t make sense when I’m done, but I still do it.  In re-reading this, the first thought that came to my head was why is this being placed in the hands of schools anyway?  They aren’t medical professionals.  This is a matter for the family and the family’s doctor.  Maybe I just don’t understand, because I don’t have kids, but if I did and a gym teacher ever put my kid through what my gym teacher put me through, that teacher wouldn’t hear the end of it.

Thoughts?  Comments?  Did you have to go through anything like this in your childhood gym class?  Any parents out there to put in their two cents or tell me I’m psycho?

Post from: Uncovering Pamela

Word Games

So, I’ve been plodding along for two years now with that target in mind.  “153, 153, come on 153,” running through my head like an avid gambler who just placed his last dollar on the roulette table.  I’m now down to only needing to lose about 26 pounds.  Or, at least that’s what I thought until today.

I’ve spoken before about my loose skin issue.  It’s something that bothers me, but is something I can live with.  For now anyway.  I can put up with a little loose skin if it means getting to enjoy all of the benefits that losing this weight has brought into my life.  But I’ve often wondered how it affects my weight.  I mean, the skin has to weigh something, right?

The more weight that I’ve lost, the more satisfied I’ve become until recently when I’ve been pretty darn satisfied with where I am.  I believe I’ve discussed that before, as well.  I believed in my heart that if I had had the extra skin removed already, then I would be perfectly satisfied to stay at the weight that I am.  But without being able to have that surgery and without having a way to weigh the extra skin, I was stuck with having to shoot for a number that seemed entirely too unrealistic.  Not to mention the comments from those around me that I couldn’t possibly lose too much more.  I just figured they were being nice.

Recently, the wonderful writer on the Half of Me blog decided that she was done with her weight loss journey.  You can read about it here.  She is satisfied with where she is and doesn’t feel the need to fight to lose any more pounds.  I believe she stopped at 179 - right about where I am.  Anyway, it got me thinking about when I would be happy.  Would it be when I hit a number on the scale?  Or would it be when I, myself, was happy with how I felt?  Of course, it should be the latter.

While in my doctor’s office today, I finally came right out and asked her what she thought would be a reasonable weight for me to shoot for.  I’ll admit I was a bit nervous about what she’d say, but she actually said that was a very good question, “when do you stop?”  I told her that I’d been shooting for the highest weight that WW said would be healthy for me and when I said 153, she looked at me like I was freaking nuts.  I wasn’t sure how to take that expression at first - she couldn’t possibly expect me to lose more than that could she?  But she quickly relieved my mind.

She pulled out her handy BMI calculating gadget (she works with overweight people regularly since she’s an endocrinologist) and said that according to it, she thought I could go as high as 160 and still be considered in a healthy range.  Then she added the greatest word of all….”But.”

And then followed it with, “when you factor in the extra skin…”  She told me that there’s no way to know for sure, but she would guess that I have AT LEAST 10 pounds of extra skin (not an attractive thought, but a happy one when you think of the time you spend struggling to drop every pound).  She then proceeded to say that she would not want to see me go much lower than 170.

Some internal part of me wants to dance a jig of joy!  Keep in mind this girl doesn’t dance…at all.  That’s less than 10 pounds!  Less than 10 pounds until goal!  Since I do WW online, I don’t have to worry about meeting WW’s standards, anyway.  It also makes me wonder, if I have at least 10 extra pounds of loose skin, does that mean that my body is really actually at 169?  Wow!  I guess I should thank God for the loose skin that gives me that extra daily point to eat!

So while that part of me wants to celebrate - I might almost be done!  There’s another part of me that is trembling in its boots.  I’m almost done?  Oh God, what then?  Granted, at the rate I’m going, it’ll probably be another six months before I lose those ten pounds, but still.  What then?  Losing this weight has pretty much been the focus of my life for more than two years.  Looking forward to that weigh-in each week and praying for a loss is what kept me going.  Will I be able to maintain it?  And if I am able to maintain it, will seeing a similar number week after week be enough to keep me interested and on track?  Yikes!  I’m sure this is all premature, but I know that all of us who are trying to lose weight worry about keeping the weight off.  For me, there was that cushion of still needing to lose 26 pounds.  Maintenance was still a safe distance off.

I also wonder what it will do to my head.  For so long, I’ve had that number in my head, watching the pounds to goal drop each week (well, most weeks).  All of a sudden, that margin to goal is going to narrow significantly.  Hopefully it won’t throw me completely off balance.

So now that I’ve got my worries out on the table, I’m going to go back to celebrating.  Whoohooo!  I’m almost there, guys!  I won’t be a size 2, but I can live with that.  I never really wanted to be a size 2 anyway.  I just wanted to be healthy and to “fit in.”  Fit into normal clothes, into restaurant booths, into life, and all of the other things I never fit into at my highest weight. 

So one day soon, when I get my mind wrapped around the idea and prepared for the shock, I will be changing my goal weight on both my Progress Chart and on the Status bar on my home page to 170.  That will be my end goal, I think.  Anything under that will just be icing on the cake. 

Post from: Uncovering Pamela

Happier News - Goal Weight Change?

Pamela is exhausted.  Pamela has only had three hours of sleep.  Pamela would swear off ever going to the doctor again if she thought it would be a somewhat reasonable remark to make.  Pamela needs to stop writing about herself in the third person.

As I mentioned, I had my doctor’s appointment with my endocrinologist this morning.  I spoke with her about several things, including blood tests and other things the dermatologist had recommended and told me.  Overall, the appointment went well, but the day pretty much just went downhill from there.

Didn’t I say that I usually left the doctor’s office with more to worry about than when I left?  And do you ever have days where you just want to throw your hands up in the air and scream “Why, God, why?”  I swear, it seems like every time something starts to go well in my life, something else has to crash.

And who knew that my health would start crashing AFTER I lost 164 pounds.  Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?

I’m still hopeful, but I’m so tired of having something to worry about.  While I was at my appointment, my doctor mentioned that my thyroid looks enlarged.  She said that she noticed it the second she walked in.  Hello, yikes.  And it’s labeled as a “goiter” on my exit sheet.  So immediately my thoughts go to those women I see at the casino with the huge goiters sticking out of the sides of their necks.  Uh-uh.  Not gonna happen.  I’ll rip the darn thing out myself with a steak knife, if I have to.  Hopefully, they caught it in time.

After my appointment, I proceeded to have about another $500 (no exaggeration) worth of blood tests done.  These people are killing me!  Well, my bank account anyway.  But I do need to have them done, so I’m not going to complain.  At least until I get the bill.

Even with all of this, I was feeling relatively okay with everything until I talked to my mom later in the day.  During my appointment, my doctor had asked me if there was any family history of thyroid disease.  I had told her that my mom had a hypoactive thyroid when she was younger, but hadn’t had any problems in years.  I had forgotten, until my mom so lovingly reminded me, that my aunt on my dad’s side had had thyroid cancer about 4 years ago.  <sigh>  And that was followed by, “but not to worry you.”

And even then, I didn’t put two and two together until later.  For the past several months, I’ve noticed my voice getting scratchier and I tend to get choked up if I tried to talk for long periods of time.  I’m also coughing more.  This would all make sense if my thyroid is enlarged.  So now I’m even more worried.  I guess I’ll call the doctor in the morning and let her know about these other symptoms.  I feel like an idiot for not realizing it when I was in there.  I already called and left a message about the family cancer history with my aunt.  They’re going to think I’m a fruitcake.

Then, to top it off, work tonight has been a royal pain.  Like I said, it’s one thing after another.  Please keep your fingers crossed, pray for me, or do whatever it is that you do.  I need it!

If you need me, I’ll be curled up in the fetal position (since I can do that now), waiting for the day to end.

Post from: Uncovering Pamela

Pissy Pamela