Follow Me Up

I wrote my last blog at about 11:30-midnight last night, and reading it back I realized I didn't say everything I had wanted to say... I'm going for ultimate transparency with this, because I want people to know I have nothing to hide.

While what I had done is considered "plastic surgery", I saw it as similar to getting a birth mark, mole, or cyst removed... just more intensive (although I do realize moles can become cancerous, so it's more of a health thing). It's the only part of me I am willing to change with surgery.  I could cover up a pouchy tummy with cute clothes, I could tone my arms, wear a padded bra (definitely don't need one of those!) but I couldn't cover my neck, at least not without drawing more attention to it.

I can remember looking at pictures of myself at 15 in Disney World, seeing my bullfrog neck, and thinking "Who's that middle-aged lady... oh, it's me." and feeling disgusted.  I tried doing neck exercises, I tried holding it in, I even tried wrapping my head in cling-wrap and Preparation H to make it go away, all to no avail.

I learned how to pose for pictures to make my double chin minimally visible.  If I wasn't happy with a picture, I would have it deleted or retaken.  I NEVER posted a picture on Facebook that showed my neck fat.  I learned how to hold my head forward and suck in my bullfrog neck by putting my tongue to the roof of my mouth.  I now have a curve on my upper back from holding my head forward all the time.  Not to mention, I looked ridiculous doing it.

 This surgery had nothing to do with weight loss.  I have lost weight in the past, and the neck never went away.  While I am at the highest weight range I've ever been, and have been hovering here for several years, I can accept my weight because I work hard at healthy behaviors.  I fully intend to continue in my quest to be healthy by eating well and exercising as much as I can handle physically.  I've even considered starting a blog on my trial and error to get fit with chronic pain.  What I don't expect is to lose much weight.

I think that's all I had to say.  I'm ready to move forward now.

By a Neck

6 days ago I had surgery on my neck, to remove a pocket of fat.  In other words: liposuction. 

I've struggled internally with my neck as far back as I can remember, since I've had any awareness of my appearance.  When a picture of me was taken, I immediately checked to see if I had a "double chin".  When I looked in a mirror, my first thought was "how bad does it look today?".  I can remember being a teen and young adult and talking with my mom about our shared hatred for our fat necks.  No matter how fit I ever got, it was there.  I always had a fat face, looking heavier than I was because of it.  I started having bad posture because I would sit with my head forward so as to minimize the appearance of my fat neck.  I always said "If I ever get the money, I'm getting it removed." 

Well, this year, that dream came true for me. 

I'm getting back into acting this year.  I started filming a movie, and noticed how big my double chin had gotten.  I knew I had gained some weight, but it had gotten ridiculous. 

I'm a little ashamed to admit this, but I stopped leaving the house as much because I was so focused on my neck and how awful it looked.  When I took this picture, I was sitting on the couch watching TV and I had the thought "I wonder what it looks like during normal activity..."  I pulled out my cell phone and, without moving at all, snapped this photo.  I think this was the moment I decided to act on my desire to once and for all be rid of the neck fat and move on to the future with confidence.

I began researching surgeons in the area, eventually finding a particularly appealing doc in Denver.  I looked up the procedure, cost, downtime, everything I felt I needed to know.  Building up a case for myself to talk to Zach about it, I expected to have to justify and fight for it.  After his shower one night, I cornered him in the bathroom.  Our conversation went like this:
"So, you know how much I hate my neck..."
"Yeah..."
"Well, I found a doctor in Denver..."
"You want to get it done?  Go for it, if you can fit it into the budget."
"Are you serious?  You're ok with this?"
"Babe, you've been talking about this since we were teenagers.  I support whatever you want to do."

At that point I burst into tears and we had a nice long hug.  I definitely had not been expecting that conversation to go so smoothly.  Similar easy conversations happened with the other people I told, too.  That was such a relief I can't even describe it in words.  I had support from my friends and family.

It took me a week to build up enough courage to schedule a consultation with the doctor.  Even after I finally scheduled it, I worried all week before going in. "What if it's too expensive?"  "What if he tells me I'm too fat for liposuction and need to lose weight first?" "What if I get a bad feeling about the place and have to start over looking for a new doctor?"  Well, my fears were pointless, and the consultation went as smoothly as my conversation with Zach.  The doctor was incredibly nice, the price was actually in our budget (as in we could pay in cash), and he didn't say anything about my current weight in relation to getting my neck fat out.  We penciled in the closest open surgery date so we could go home and discuss everything before making a final decision and putting down a deposit.  Zach, the Sib and I talked on the way home (the three of us went together), and nobody had a bad feeling about this doctor, so the next day, Zach called them and officially scheduled me for April 4, 2012 at 2:30pm.
 

The next 2 weeks were spent working on the short film we had started weeks earlier, so I was fully distracted from my upcoming surgery.  That helped immensely with my surgery-related stress.

The morning of the procedure, I decided to post about it on my Facebook and let everyone know I was going in to have a fat pocket removed from my neck.  I had so many supportive comments left for me, and I was feeling great going in for surgery.  They were even running ahead of schedule and called to ask if I could come in even earlier, which was great for me!

I had to fill out a little more paperwork, then it was off for a urine test (I'm not pregnant, YAY)
 and a wardrobe change (apparently, even if you're just getting chin lipo, you still have to wear the surgical gown open to the front...), as well as the port for my IV inserted.  The nurse had trouble with her first try getting it in, and I had a little panic episode and threw up.  She apologized profusely even though I told her it was my normal reaction to needles.  Her second try went much better.  The anesthesiologist came in and told me it was good for her if I threw up, and we had a nice laugh about it.  She put a nausea patch behind my ear.  Then, my surgeon came in to mark my face for surgery.  The atmosphere was so positive and fun and we had some nice laughs getting ready to go in.  He could tell I was still nervous, and he gave me a pat on the knee and told me everything would be fine and they'd take good care of me.  That actually made me feel much better.  At that point, the anesthesiologist started some kind of fluid (I think it was a sedative), I gave Zach a kiss, and the nurse and I waddled into the operating room.  There were several people bustling about, they told me to lay on the table and I thought "I'm feeling loopy, there's no way I'll make it onto the table", but I made it.  They strapped down my arm, put on the mask thing, and I was OUT.

I woke up seated but reclined in a chair.  My first thought was about how little pain I felt.  I was seriously tired though, and all I wanted to do was sleep, but they wouldn't let me.  The nurse (a new one I didn't recognize) had me sit up so I could get dressed, but I got sick and threw up again.  Once that was over, I finally got dressed, sat down in a wheelchair, and they brought me out to the car to go home.  They gave me a bag just in case I got sick on the drive home, but I didn't. 


I slept most of the next few days, but I had to get up several times a day to walk so I wouldn't get an embolism.  My face felt all tingly and numb, but overall the pain was bearable.  Of course, you don't realize how much you use your neck muscles until they hurt.  I could hardly talk, I could hardly eat, I needed help getting into an upright position.  I was bruising pretty badly at this point.  My neck, face, and chest all had bruising.  Swelling wasn't bad the first few days though, and I got some good pictures on day 3 when I took the bandages off to put on the compression garment:

There was a nasty looking bruise on the right side of my neck, but it didn't hurt at all.  It did, however, make me feel a little ill when I first saw it, so I immediately went back to bed after I got the compression garment on my head. 

On Day 4 or 5, I got some nausea for the first time since getting home.  It was sudden, it was over quickly, and it never happened again.  Weird.

On about Day 4 or 5 as well, I started swelling more:

Those pictures were taken earlier today.  I'm frustrated with it, but I know I'm not quite a week out from surgery, and it will go down soon.  The numbness and tingling gets better by the day, and the bruising is that ugly green/yellow color of healing.  Even my posture is already getting better!!

I'm looking forward to the day I can put on a full face of makeup, style my hair, and wear a nice outfit to go out on a date with my husband, confident with my new neck!

Fifteen in Either Direction

I recently wrote a letter to my 12-year-old self with advice, warnings, and other things I wish I could go back in time and tell myself.  It was an interesting experience, because if I could have in fact gone back in time to give myself advice, I had to wonder if it would have changed who and where I am today.  I decided that I wouldn’t tell myself things to change the future (or I guess my present), but maybe prepare myself mentally for some of it.  

Then I thought, “I may be happy where I am right now, but what would 12-year-old Stacey think of me?”  That really got me thinking, about where I thought I would be at this age, what I thought I would be doing, and why I’m ok with it right now.  At age 12, I thought by the time I was 27, I would be in California, acting.  I thought I would have a couple of kids by now.  I thought, as every kid thinks, that I would be rich.  I thought I would be thin and healthy.  I thought I would have a tall, handsome and suave husband.   

Interesting.

When I look at myself today, I’m half disappointed and half content.  I still want to act, it’s in my blood, and I’m pretty sure it’ll never go away.  At this time, though, I’m confident that I can still get into it, just in a different way than I‘d thought at 12.  I’m about 50lbs over what the BMI scale says I should be.  I have chronic pain that makes weight gain a constant struggle.  Despite that, I still haven’t given up on trying to be healthy.  I’ve been working on eating healthy and taking vitamins and exercising.  As surprising as it would be to 12-year-old Stacey, I love exercising.  My husband may not be tall, and he may not be as handsome as I had imagined, but he makes up for all of that with his dedication and sacrifice for me.  I think me at 12 would appreciate that.  I’m not in a hurry to have kids, and probably won’t ever, and while I think that would be the greatest shock of all to Past Me, obviously she’d understand eventually.

I started wondering where I will be in another 15 years, who I will be, and what I will be doing.  If 42-year-old Stacey showed up today to give me advice on my near future, what would I think of her?  Will she have gotten a hold on her health?  Will she have gotten a career in line?  Will she be fat or thin?  Will she be where I am now, just 15 years older?  Would 27-year-old me be disappointed in her... and how do I keep that from happening?

Tired, sick, and fat

I had hoped to start a juice fast this week, but the juicer I wanted is not sold in stores around here, and I’m not going to settle for something other than what I had decided to buy.  My old juicer was a Jack LaLanne model, but the peg that holds on the blade is plastic and surprise, surprise, it broke.  I decided to go with a different model this time, went online to do some research, and found one I could get excited over.  Then I found out the closest store carrying these machines is a good hour’s drive from our house.  Now, I have to order it online and wait until next week or later to start the fast.

My hope is that this fast will help clear out my system and get some nutrients into my body.  I got a really horrible cold two days after Thanksgiving, with sore throat, runny nose, crazy cough, the works.  I was almost well for about a week, thankfully in time for Christmas and our 5^th Anniversary.  Although I was still weak and tired, I thought I was on the way back to health.  Then, the day before New Year’s Eve, I started getting a rash on the right side of my chest.  I got weak and tired again, and my body ached.  We thought that my rash was caused by the water in the hot springs we bathed in on our Anniversary, but it spread to the nape of my neck and my back (also on the right side).  Just after New Year’s, I got a fever and started sleeping all the time, and someone suggested maybe it was Shingles.  Since we don’t have health insurance still, I can’t go to a doctor, so I may never know for sure what this is.  The rash has started healing, but now my throat is sore and I’ve got a fever again.  By my count, I’ve only been moderately healthy one week or less since Thanksgiving.  I’ve been trying to eat healthier, but that’s hard to do when I’m not well enough to cook and the only thing Zach knows how to do is get takeout.  I’ve been trying to continue exercising, but every time I try, I just feel worse.  I don’t know what else to do, so now I’m trying the fast.  Hopefully, nothing but fresh fruits and vegetables, followed by yogurt and working up to healthy food will help my immune system and I’ll finally be well.  We are also going to be going around the whole house with Lysol wipes, which we do a couple of times a year.  I just want to be healthy.

Sour to Bear

As another year has rounded out, and my mind is finally starting to clear properly, and I’m beginning to feel almost human again, I figured I needed to do some hardcore reflecting. 

2010 and 2011 were rough years for me, emotionally and physically.  I’ve been trying to find ways to relieve my pain and fatigue without a doctor, since we lost our insurance both of the last two years just as I needed it.  I’ve been working on my diet, supplements, exercise, heat therapy, and sometimes I think I have a handle on things.  Other times, like right now, I can hardly get out of bed and I feel so hopeless, so useless, so sluggish and fat I wonder why I’m even here.  That whole “This too shall pass” has sort of become my mantra.

Last year, when I was trying to free myself from a toxic friendship long after the friendship had ended, I had a hard time being ok with my emotions.  I had been told repeatedly that I felt too much and needed to shut it off.  In my heart, I knew that was wrong, but I was lost and the only lighthouse I found led me into the rocky shoal instead of away from it.  When I started back on my way to feeling normal (or at least normal for me), my dad had a midlife crisis or something and almost tore the family apart.  My three immediate family members here in Colorado are the only close family I’ve had for most of my life and this year didn’t just affect my relationship with him, it had all four of us at each others’ throats and I was, as usual, the odd man out.  I was the one dissenting voice who had no choice but to throw up my hands, shake my head, and disconnect myself.  I thought I had lost the only family I’ve ever really known, as screwed up and dysfunctional as we are.  It broke my heart.  I’m still disappointed in my family, but we are at least speaking and spending holidays together right now.  It took me years to get the kind of relationship with my dad that we could sit and talk and not get angry.  I was so excited when we got to that place a few years ago.  I thought my dad had grown up a little and become a better person.  When all of the midlife crisis stuff happened, it made me feel like an idiot for trusting him.  This time will probably take even longer for me to believe anything he says, or not be angry with him, but thankfully he seems to be working on moving forward.  We’ll see how long it lasts.  I hope his health holds out long enough for him to repair all the relationships he needs to fix.

Of course, the exact time in my life I need people to talk to, lean on and support me is the exact time in my life I shouldn’t be trying to make new friends, or dumping all of this on my old friends who don’t really have time for me anymore.  I especially hate unloading this all on my poor husband, who works so hard for me anyway without my emotional neediness to get in the way.  I’m so afraid to talk about things with other people and scaring them away.  If it’s one thing I’ve learned these last couple of years it’s that people don’t like you when you need them.  So, if you’re trying to make new friends during an emotional crisis or an identity crisis and they find out about it, chances are you won’t see them again, at least not without awkwardness. 

Have we really become a society of people who become annoyed with others’ vulnerability?

Everyone has problems.  Most people have problems so big they can’t handle them alone, yet they try to anyway.  With that behavior usually comes a jaded heart and a self-centered attitude.  “Well, I have my own problems to work out; I can’t take on yours too.”  If everyone with all these huge soul-eating issues would just open up and help each other get through it all, maybe the burden wouldn’t be so much to bear, and we wouldn’t all be so annoyed with one another.

What I learned in 2011

For some reason, when I’m going through a tough time emotionally, the one person I need support from will be the one person who refuses to support me.

People don’t change; they just get really good at hiding their faults.  If I wait and watch long enough, I’ll see the old them make another appearance.

When someone needs me to be there for them I need to be there for them, but be real with them; they don’t need to be patronized.

It’s human nature to hurt others, but I can’t let people wronging me stop me from giving my heart to as many people as I can anyway.

Sometimes, showing my vulnerabilities to the people who love me (or even people who like me, or barely know me) is ok.  If they criticize me for it, that’s their problem.  I shouldn’t let it get to me.

I have always been a procrastinator and being “sick” or whatever you want to call it has completely exacerbated said procrastination.  It's why this blog is going up almost a week into 2012.  I need to work on that, as soon as I get my health in check.

I should never let other people’s opinions of me influence how I feel about myself.  I will probably do it anyway.  It’s in my nature to care what other people think and feel.

Nobody in the world is loved by everyone.  I am fantastic the way I am, and some people just don’t know how to handle me.  I need to be constantly reminded of these facts, see above.

Life is fair, people are not.  I hate the saying “Life’s not fair, get used to it” because it gives people a reason to be selfish and coldhearted.  “Fair” doesn’t necessarily mean “totally awesome all the time”.

I have to stop second-guessing my creativity.  My talents are not mediocre.  None of them.