Wrinkles, crinkles and 6 months later…

So on Wednesday of this week it was a massive occasion in our house. We had visitors, cake, lunch out, dinner out, beer, wine and cake. It was six months since I had my bypass!!! Woohoo! Oh, and it was my husband’s 50th birthday too…maybe that’s what the celebrations were about…haha.

There again, along with all his gifts, meal, money, vouchers, tattoo, weekend away, 2018 Download ticket AND a new puppy, he, in effect, also has a new wife. Same name, same attitude, sounds the same but looks rather different – and it hasn’t even cost him 50% of his assets. Lucky chap!! Seriously though, I’ve lost around 7 stones, I look vastly different, I’ve a ton more energy and he is reaping all the benefits.

I’m getting more self conscious though – my arms are driving me mad, and my thighs. Not to mention my stomach and the fact that when I am naked, I seem to move in several separate parts – I’m hoping I start to all join back together again eventually!!

I never expected to be so different in such a short space of time. I think subconsciously I thought I’d be no different, look the same, feel the same. It’s only now that I remember the way I was, that I realise how far I’ve come. My feet, knees, hips and back hurt so much less now. I can breathe. I have energy, most days…

Happy Birthday to the man who completes me. I love you.



It’s been a while. Life gets in the way – combined with fostering, working, my children, my eldest getting married, university, and trying to maintain the focus on our marriage, means sometimes stuff for “me” takes a back seat.

But, most of the above is also for “me”. I work so we can have a lifestyle we want – well, try to – we foster/host students because we have a big house and it’s pointless it being empty, plus we love the multi-cultural world it brings into our childrens lives. Uni is something I’m loving, despite it being blinking hard work – I’m nearly at the end of Y1 and I’ve signed up for Y2 already. The wedding was amazing, and all our hard work paid off. My husband and I have always tried to make time just for us, we have date nights, and we put our relationship first – we have seen far too many friends who put their relationship last and it suffers badly, usually terminally. We have “YAM” days, nights and weekends – YAM being You and Me.

Bloody hell I sound smug. I’m really not though. I’m struggling with te changes going on on the inside and the outside right now. Heading for 7 stones off in under 6 months, and thats huge. I’m still huge too, but I can’t pick up anything that weighs that much, yet I’ve spent 30+ years carrying it round.

Skin is an issue. A huge issue. I go from thinking “I cannot EVER be seen by ANYONE looking like this, including my husband” to thinking “f*ck it, it’s who I am and I’m bloody proud of myself” and I’ve bought a bikini to wear on holiday this year. Haha, as if THAT will have the tags taken off it!!!

But why, when I look in the mirror, do I 99% of the time see the size 24 me? Why do I still see myself as being morbidly obese? Why don’t I see the changes? We take photos and on those I see two different people when I put them side by side, but in everyday life I look no different to me.

I’m at the stage where people who haven’t seen me for a while walk past me, or look puzzled when I smile and say “hello”. Then there’s the shock, then the awkward stage where they make small talk and you can see they want to ask but don’t like to.  But, I’m me. Just me. No different on the inside – still grumpy, awkward, kind, caring, bit of a bitch, and gobby. Just me.

So, yunno, if you see me and I say hi, just say hi back to me. Don’t feel awkward, ASK me. I’ll happily tell you how I’ve lost weight – but woe betide you if you then decide to say it’s been the easy option. This is the HARDEST thing I’ve EVER done. I thought getting to the surgery date was the difficult bit, but it really isn’t. And no, I don’t care that I’ll never eat a normal meal again. I don’t care that I can’t eat bread/pasta. I don’t care that I’m needing new clothes every month.

I care that people treat me differently. They think I’ve changed on the inside. Or are they jealous? Or worried? Or pleased? I was told by a doctor friend, when he heard what I’ve had done, “that’s the best thing you could ever have done. You’ve added 20 years to your life”. That was rather a strange thought process to digest that…I’m heading for my half century in a couple of years, so if I’ve now added on 20-ish, was my life nearly over?

In all honesty, I’m just me. The me I’ve always been, only I’ll be around a lot longer now…

Skin – can I love the skin I’m in?

This week has brought about a few changes that I’m really not happy with, yet at the start they are ones that I was sure wouldn’t bother me.

Skin. The biggest organ of the body. I always knew that I’d end up with loose skin, wrinkles, saggy boobs, stretch marks etc. Yet there are places I was sure these side effects wouldn’t bother me at all. My lovely husband has always told me that I can have any corrective surgery I want, once the weight is off, and I know he means it. Yet I always insisted the only thing I’d consider would be tummy and boobs, because I wouldn’t care about the rest…

Only I do. I’ve lost 6 stones in 4.5 months, just over, it’ll be 5 months on the 21st of May. I know it’s fast, I know it’s inevitable, and I am going to the gym/swimming/walking as much a I can, as well as spending every day lifting toddlers and babies. Yet my arms are awful and my thighs are too now. My tummy isn’t shrinking so I still look 22 stones plus, and my boobs are getting worse by the day.

I feel ridiculous, self-conscious, and very unattractive. Why the hell have I booked a beach holiday for this July? I’ll be the one in 40* heat wearing jeans and a long sleeved top.

I never realised I was this vain. That makes me feel bad too. So many more important stuff to care about, yet I don’t like what I see in the mirror…still. Even after getting to a weight I never imagined.


In all honesty, I didn’t expect to feel this way. So before I bankrupt us buying creams and lotions that I KNOW don’t work, what can I do? Help please…

Well goodness me…

I can’t remember when I last found five minutes to sit and write anything. It’s been an absolutely manic few weeks, our son has married his beautiful girl and we’ve gained another daughter.

The wedding was absolutely bloody brilliant. The run-up to the wedding, making of the cake (by me), doing the table centers (by us), the room decor (us), the putting up of groomsmen and organising of family (us…getting the picture…) and the BLOODY cake (me) very nearly finished us off. The cake came very near to causing a divorce last Wednesday…

BUT. We did it. We really, really did it. It was absolutely amazing. We, and they, loved every minute of it. The cake remained standing, so did I – mostly – despite being awake since 01:30 am. We danced the night away, literally, and the following day I could not move. Absolute agony from head to toe. Yesterday was slightly better, and today I’m doing ok. The bride and groom have swanned off to Florida, leaving us with the aftermath to deal with…lol.

Well, the weight is going down. The dress looked lovely, and I changed in the evening into one that had fitted two weeks ago but I realised was too loose by the wedding, but I wore it anyway.

I still have trouble eating some days – sometimes food goes in, sometimes it won’t. Yesterday was ok, today it’s a struggle. I’m going to avoid carrots for a fair old while I think, as they are not digestible!

I see the dietician again on Monday…see what she has to say.

Whose shadow is that?

Hello. It’s been a bit of a week really. Easter holidays here, so I’ve swopped my term-time little ones for my holiday big ones, and we’ve been doing various days out so the boredom doesn’t kill them.

We do allsorts in the holidays, trampolining, swimming, theme park, lunch out etc. A couple of days ago I went to get petrol before I picked them up, and was stood filling my car when the lady at the next pump looked over. I half recognised her, and smiled. She looked, and said “hello. You’ve lost weight”. Oh, yes, says I. Yes I have. “How?” She asked. So I explained – I’m not ashamed, I don’t mind saying what I’ve done. Some folk won’t agree, that’s fine. But I wasn’t expecting to be told by her that I look haggard, my husband will leave me, I’m lazy, a waste of NHS money.

Now, of course, I can think of LOADS of good responses. Then, all I managed to say before bursting in to tears was “my husband is thrilled. F*@k off” and drove away.

It’s made me curl up and die inside though. Is this what people ARE thinking but too polite to say to me? If you do think that, do us both a favour and delete yourself from my bookface. Delete my number as well. I don’t need “friends” like that.

I’m smaller now than the day I married my husband. He insists he is thrilled with the changes, that he has always wanted me to be healthy. That I’m his, he is mine, and that is that. Doesn’t stop the nightmares though…

So whose shadow is that? We went to Lightwater Valley yesterday, and took 5 children with us. Walking along I saw a shadow on the floor, and could not work out who it belonged to. I followed its legs and realised the shadow connected to my feet.

I didn’t recognise my shadow, yet I see myself as being no different. How does THAT work???

In all honesty, I can’t quite get my brain around it.


Changes – so many changes

Hello. I didn’t think I had much to say this week, until I sat here and realised the number of little things that have changed, some are noticeable, others not so much…

Chaps, you might want to stop reading now. As I said to my husband yesterday, changes are happening that he simply won’t understand. He insisted he would, and I should tell him – I did, he didn’t understand, an argument nearly started and I ended up saying “SEE! I TOLD YOU YOU WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND”. At which point, he gave up…haha

My Fitness Pal doesn’t understand either – it yells at me that I’m not eating enough – lol!

So, changes. I started the gym a couple of weeks ago, I hate the gym. I really do. I said this to the training chap who had the misfortune of being lumbered with sorting a program for me. He, to his credit, has done me one I can not only tolerate, but nearly enjoy. Nearly. He told me exactly the benefits each exercise would have and why, in words of one syllable, and today I even went on my own, without my protection of my husband.


My knickers are too big. I spend half my time sticking my hand down my trousers to pull them up. So today I bought 16s instead of 22s. Also on that note, when you’ve spent years tucking knickers under your belly apron, its rather odd to then realise that when you tense your (still pretty non-existent tummy muscles) you can “pop” the tummy apron over the top of the knickers…(thats the bit the husband didn’t “get”)

Thin folk don’t get it though. They don’t get it at all.

In all honesty, they don’t “get” any of it. No matter how much they think they do.

And no, just because you ate an extra sandwich and need to lose 0.2lb, you don’t “understand what I’m going through”. And with a BMI of 26, you won’t qualify for the “so easy solution of the surgery you’ve had”


Hello there…

So it’s April. Three months and a bit since the surgery, and a while since I saw certain people. Nearly five stones down, and it’s rather a rollercoaster ride too.

I’ve yet to learn that the “extra” bit of food makes all the difference. Difference between feeling nicely full, and far too stuffed. Also still learning what will and won’t go down – anything cold won’t, and most hot stuff is ok.

I’ve joined the gym. The actual gym. The thing I’m petrified of, and can’t cope with the looks and stares I get from folk. But I joined. I went to see a personal trainer and get a program done, and then I actually went and did it on my own as well.

My arms are bothering me – the loose skin. I never expected that to be an issue, honestly didn’t think I would care, but I do. So the only option is to exercise, so that’s what I’m trying. If someone could get me an extra few hours in the day that would be ace!

Seen some people I haven’t seen in a while, some see no difference in me, others do. I see some difference in myself now and again, not all the time. Some stuff I feel fat in despite it fitting better, other stuff of course still doesn’t fit. I was told in no uncertain terms by a friend that “too big is as bad as too small” while pulling at the size 24 dress I was wearing – which, to be honest, was a bit on the big side. it’s now on the pile for Ebay.

So, life. In all honesty, it passes me by at great speed while I work/work/foster/cook/do laundry/deal with other people.

Will it or won’t it…

Yesterday I had my followup with the dietician, and she is thrilled with my progress. I’m rather fed up that her scales weigh me consistently heavier than mine at home, but hey ho. 23 kilos off in 11 weeks isn’t bad I guess – actually it’s flipping fab!

I’m free to try almost anything now for food, other than raw salad type stuff, bread, pasta and rice. Rice is one of the last things to try in around 18-24 months and is unlikely to be tolerated very easily. Bread after 12 months ish, and gain white bread won’t be easy to digest. Pasta the same. Am I bothered at the thought? Slightly for rice, if I’m honest. Pasta I hate, and bread I can live without. Gluten free bread is pretty awful anyway other than glutafin, so it’s no loss.

Some things, though, that should be easy to eat now, aren’t. Chicken. Chicken ought to go down easily especially after being slow cooked or with lots of sauce, but it gets stuck every time. I can manage lamb/beef/sausages/bacon/chorizo but chicken, nope. Turkey is also fine yet chicken isn’t! How odd. But not according to the dietician – most folk can either eat chicken OR other meats. The body is an amazing, yet strange thing!

Cold food won’t go down, or fruit. Again, other stuff does so again, it’s no problem. But yes, there are downsides to this surgery, and for me, I don’t care. Will I happily live the rest of my life without bread/rice/pasta, adapting the meals I make my family, sharing dinners out with my husband or a good friend, in exchange for a healthier, happier, longer life?

In all honesty? Oh YES!!! Have I had any negativity? Oh yes. Do I care? Well, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me a little – but I’m lucky that I’ve got the most supportive husband and good friends I can offload to about that.

I was told last week that I’m so lucky that I can now “lose weight so easily” and “without any effort” lol. Easy? Anything but easy. Considering the surgery? Well, most folk aren’t fat enough. It’s hard, a bloody long process, and it hurts. It’s not reversible therefore it is for life. You take tablets and have injections for ever. Yes, for life. Some GP’s won’t prescribe them so you have to commit to buying them. There’s a massive stigma attached to it, folk think you’re weak/greedy/pathetic/lazy. They judge you, so you decide whether to lie forever or brave the comments and loss of friends. Excess skin after you’ve lost the weight. Issues going to the loo. The divorce rate is higher than average in couples after gastric surgery.

But the upsides far outweigh (ha!) the downsides for me/for us. If they do for you and you want to go for it, for me its been worth everything it has taken to get here.


Baggy Trousers… (and knickers!)

No, not the new title of a Madness song. But when I realised earlier that what used to be my “hippy shorts under belly” knickers were now right above the waistband of my (baggy) jeans I realised I might have to actually get rid of them…

Easier aid than done! I did, last night, ruthlessly (for me) go through two drawers and offload a bin liner full to the weigh and pay place, and have a pile of the better quality stuff to list on Ebay this weekend.

But knickers?? Does it really matter if they are big under my jeans? I thought it didn’t until I realised that actually I’m distinctly uncomfortable and they look stupid under the jeans that are falling down because they’re also rather baggy…don’t I sound attractive today!

But actually the knowledge that I’m getting smaller is rather a boost today, as my weight hasn’t changed much in the last ten days or so – an inevitable “stall” as they call it. After panicking yesterday that this is it, I’ve gone through all this to stay a size 18/20, and upsetting myself, I’ve come to the conclusion that I need everything to catch up with itself, my skin needs to shrink (if it can…) and my organs need the time to get over the shock. I’m only ten weeks out from major surgery, and I do think I need to go a bit easier on myself. Just because every day I am focusing on the surgery, the tablets, the vitamins, drinking enough, eating the right stuff, will it go down, will it get stuck, am I smaller now than I was yesterday…other folk really aren’t that interested! Life goes on…

In all honesty, if I don’t look after me, who else will???