Photographs from the weekend

The world famous pumpkin surgeon had his assistant (Mom) make the first cut and is now removing the seedy growths from the patient's body cavity.

























...pour yourself over me, like the sun, through the blinds...




















(I realized after posting this, the line that song is from is "Cuts you up". Unintentional pun! It's a beautiful song. See the video here.)


"I care not for the burdens and worries of your hu-mon world. I will be on the deck, meditating."

Creepy, but not the Halloween kind of creepy.

or, The More You Know (insert TMYK musical flourish here)

Have you ever heard of something so weird or gross that strikes you in a way where you cannot get it out of your head and think about it all day?

I present to you, Macewen's Sign (definition courtesy of the internet, layman's terms in parenthesis mine):

Macewen's sign is a sign used to help to diagnose hydrocephalus (accumulation of excess cerebrospinal fluid) and brain abscesses (layman's terms: the pressure is increasing in your skull and you are going to die soon if something is not done). Tapping the skull near the junction of the frontal, temporal and parietal bones will produce a stronger resonant sound when either hydrocephalus or a brain abscess are present (layman's terms: damn, baby, you resonating!).

Aaaaaand, from a dear friend that is a Nurse of 35 years and a pediatric Nurse Practioner also, who brought the topic up in the first place - in kids, their skull plates are not fused until they are ~5 years old. As their skulls swell, you can hear the sutures cracking apart.

You're welcome for telling you that. We share things like that. We do.

Macewens also called the cracked pot sign, from which we get the term "crackpot".

And today's entry was going to be so full of fall fun and photos, too...

Well, I done fucked up again. And this time, I'm not the one paying, unfortunately.

I will answer the question before you even ask it.

Q: "It's a fish, why are you getting so worked up over a fucking fish, anyway?"

A: I took him on as my responsibility 5 and a half years ago. He was my little fish buddy. He had a smiley face in the spot pattern on his stomach. He made me happy. And he died because I was so goddamn lazy, he wound up being neglected and starved to death, and I had to do the humane thing and euthanize him with clove oil and vodka.

And? That method? Is not nearly as peaceful when it's an 11" fish covered in spines trying to not go gentle into that good night. It was thrashy and horrible and I had to fight to keep myself from scooping him back up and throwing him back into the tank. He had so much fight left in him... he fought so hard... I looked online and could not find any information about saving one once it had started starving... I held him in one hand and floated flakes into his mouth with the other and encouraged him when he sucked them in and his bony parts were so scraped looking ... he was so starved and in pain and it was my fault and I'm crying again shit shit fuck fuck fuck.

After he stopped thrashing, I told him I was so, so, very sorry and that I would hate me also, for doing this to him. I killed him slowly by starving him; I was now killing him quickly to make him feel better.

Punk was my leopard pleco. I only have three goldfish in my tank now, two of which were Juno's, one of which is the last of my original setup from five years ago (common mistake, apparently, putting big piggy ammonia-producing cold water fish who could live in nuclear waste in with little delicate fish who like it warm and the pH and whatnot just so).

Euthanizing him seemed like the right thing to do. I'm sorry if you disagree with me. I'm sorry, period. I let my little fish buddy down.

After I got done sitting on the floor in front of the fish tank crying so hard I almost puked, I tried to pull it together and think about what I could learn from this.

I had to kill him to stop his pain, which was MY fault.

Why was it my fault? Because I was lazy. I was too lazy to set the thermostat properly, because, hey, I'm doing things the way I've been doing them for the last 5.5 years, and everything is ok, right? I was too lazy to give him the correct food/extra food to make up for the additional piggy fish I put in his tank a few months ago, so nothing sinks to the bottom, or what does, he didn't get enough of. Algae wafers? Why does he need these? Goldfish flakes have been good enough for him for the last 3 years.

I've been so busy with school and sitting on my ass doing nothing of importance, I hadn't even noticed he hadn't been hanging around on the walls of the tank.

I then realized that being lazy was the root of all my problems. I just don't work hard enough. I figure "good enough for now" is, good enough.

"Good enough for now" is why I haven't made more progress in weight loss. It's why there is usually a pile of laundry on the bathroom/bedroom/basement floor (or all 3, if I'm really being a douchebag about things). It's why I constantly feel behind at school and why I'm not pulling as good of grades as I should, and why I'm enjoying torturing myself by telling me I'm going to fail this semester and won't be able to graduate until December 09, instead of 6.5 months from now. It's why I don't visit my family as often as I should, and why I rarely go out to meet with friends anymore. We talk on the phone or online and we all know how we feel about each other, and that should be "good enough for now".

"Good enough for now" is why my pet suffered and had to be euthanized.

Maybe I should stop with the head games and trying to guilt myself into doing the bare minimum so I can get by and call it "done!", and actually DO what I am capable of, instead of being lazy.

I buried Punk in the front circle, under some of those groundspready flower things that I'm too upset to remember the name of now, right above the vaguely heart-shaped border rock.

I'm angry and sad and disappointed in myself. I don't know what else to say, except I think I've finally had the "I get it" moment I've been looking for my entire life.

Fall off the wagon 7 times, get on 8...

... fall off again, say "fuck it" and whip out the cell phone to call a cab because who needs a friggin' wagon, anyway?

Summer was supposed to be a happy fun time of puttering around the house and exercising and studying for the fall classes and eating healthy and going out and meeting people and having fun.

I did well for the first part of the summer. I did not have my snout firmly planted in an ice cream container, I was walking 2.5 miles per night (I know! Me! Exercising, on a regular basis!), I stalked tracked down my former BFF on myspace and reconciled with her, I put up a profile on a dating site and was a busy little bee over IM and the phone, had not one, not two, but THREE dates in four days.

And then as things are wont to do because I can never get out of my own damn way, everything came undone.

As per usual, the thing that made the whole precarious "eating right and exercising and feeling like a normal person 'should'" house of cards flutter to the ground with a crashing thud, I wound up taking rejecting others/being rejected wayyyyyyy too personally.

I can pinpoint the exact day - July 2nd. I got all insomniac/hypersomnolent. I stopped eating right. I stopped exercising. I stopped wanting to go out for a walk around the lake at night. I stopped leaving the house and/or talking to anyone in any form for days at a time.

And here's the part where I say "and all I did was eat and gain weight and now here I am again, oh poor me", right?

No. Surprise!

Strangely enough, I didn't go crazy with the food. I just kind of weird about it. Instead of eating regular all day then inhaling pints of ice cream at night, I'd eat nothing but ice cream for days at a time.

And I've managed to stay in the same 10 pound weight range the entire time. So, I dunno.

Moral to the story, obviously, is being a recluse burns a lot of calories so it's ok to eat whatever, as long as you don't interact with other people in any way, shape, or form. Interaction with others is what makes the calories stick.

I kind of wish I had stuck the proverbial firecracker up my ass this summer and gotten my thoughts down because I honestly don't know what I was thinking during that time. It's all kind of blurry and sugary and empty feeling.

Now that school has started again, I'm now back on the path to relative normalcy.

And since I don't have a good ending for this, enjoy a photo of the fall colors:

Helpful hints for stalkers, loose skin, and being thoroughly convinced my former job would have killed me.

Item one on the agenda: Helpful Hints for Stalkers

Remember our friend from Villa Park, IL (aka "adsl-75-49-221-142.dsl.emhril.sbcglobal.net")?

They gave me the feedback (and a new post title, woo!) last week that yes, while I was still an incredibly hugely morbidly giganto fatty mcfatpants, I was ever so slightly minutely less of an incredibly hugely morbidly giganto fatty mcfatpants.

Which is great. Unsolicited opinions that I am indeed thinner, regardless of the size of the thesaurus they had to consult and number of brain cells they had to rub together to come up with the words to convey their thoughts regarding my weight loss and how insignificant it seemed to them, are always welcome. Because I am all about receiving the compliments.

Anyhoo, I'm concerned for you, Villa Park, IL. In the past 7 days, you have logged fifteen visits.


You visit my blog more than *I* do. Hell, you visit my blog more often than I check my email. My blogland friends don't even visit fifteen times in 7 days.

Please, Villa Park, IL (can I call you VP?) step away from the keyboard, take a deep breath, and go sit on the porch for a while - it's nice outside! Call your mom. Learn a foreign language. Submit an ad to Craigslist asking for someone to break your fingers with a sledgehammer - offer your keyboard and computer monitor as payment! (Because with broken fingers, you certainly won't be needing them. Just a suggestion.)

Anything to get little old me me out of your feverish inflamed mind.

Because really? I am not that interesting. Wait, I *totally* am. Just not "15 visits in 7 days" level of interesting.

Your family (and friend (friends?) Your WoW guildies? Fellow online forum-ites?) misses you. The people at SBC Global DSL are wondering what your sick fascination is with some 330 pound blonde broad whose face you can't even see.

And last but not least, Jesus does not approve of your stalking behavior. (He told me himself. I have him on AOL IM and everything. We're tight like that.)

For the helpful hints portion of this item:

• I update once a week. If that. Maybe twice, if I'm feeling saucy or have a story to tell about making out with law students (which I am totally too old for (sidenote to long time readers: He's officially a lawyer now, heh)) or giving drunken lapdances to Hematologists of Western European extraction.
  
• Wear a rubberband around your wrist and snap it and shout "NO!" whenever you start to ruminate about how badly you need to see just a scrap, scribbling, rough draft, photo, of ANYTHING in my blog or how hot I make you.
  
• If rubberband is not helpful, see above suggestion in re Craigslist and sledgehammers.
  

I like to think the above suggestions will lead you to a happier and more productive place. Live long and prosper, Thora XOXO.

Item 2: Loose skin

It's everywhere. On the underside of my arms, the front of my thighs, and especially on my stomach south of the bellybutton. I pinch it and it tents up and everrr so slowlyyyy relaxes back down to a peau d'orange flatness.

However, I know how to get rid of loose skin from weight loss. Are you ready for it? Brace yourselves! You gain the weight back. *snerk* Your daily dose of comedic genius folks, you just got it.

Item 3: It wasn't my job I hated, it was the people at my job.

I had finally fallen asleep after wearing myself out from playing with the loose skin located in various places on my person, into a fun dream.

I was at a party. The room was dark, large sparkly beachball sized star shaped ornaments littered the floor, the disco ball was rotating, and there in a chair was the 550+ pound receptionist (Giselle, who wasn't my least favorite co-worker ever, but she certainly didn't rank in the top 40) from my former job.

I was chatting with her and greeting other former co-workers as they walked by when Giselle mentioned that the FTC (I... don't know. Those were the initials in my dream; that's what I'm going with) would be here soon.

She continued, advising me that I would have to be ready to defend my actions in regarding the filing of... something even though I didn't work there anymore.

The handling of "the filing" used to be The Asshat's (former nemesis, the Anti-Thora, if you will) responsibility, but since I took over Asshat's job in addition to mine while a search for her replacement was made*, it was now my responsibility to do it. Which was news to me.

I advised Giselle that she knew as well as I did that it was not my responsibility to file that form. I realized that I was not here for a party - I had been set up. I excused myself to go to the bathroom, with my intent being to escape through a side door.

I decided to stop by the bathroom anyway, and en route, Jim from the US version of The Office (probably because I worked with a guy who reminded me of him?) was sitting slumped over a desk. I advised him of the surprise audit, he mumbled something about not caring and just wanting to go to sleep. I looked back at the doors and the FTC walked in with the announcement that the place was under lockdown for the next three hours.

Bathroom be damned, there was no way I was sticking around for another three hours. I stood by the side of the door waiting for the officials to be distracted and my heart is pounding and I'm waiting and my heart is pounding and mmnnnph wait I'm dreaming wait what my heart is REALLY POUNDING WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON.

My ears were ringing. I could hear my heartbeat reverberating against my eardrums and it got louder and louder the more awake I became. I started to feel a pinching sensation, and since I'm no cardiologist (nor am I fucking one at the moment, har har), the best I can say is that it felt like the pinching was in the left ventricle. My head started to take on the "worst headache of my life" sensation.

Oh fuck. Am I dying? Having a heart attack? Or a stroke? Am I in the throes of pre-eclampsia? I'm not even pregnant!

I realized three things immediately. One, I need to wake up, completely. Two, panicking will not help. Three, I need to breathe deeply.

I shook my head and shook off the dream and opened my eyes. As soon as the pinch was there, it was gone. The headache disappeared immediately. My heart slowed with every beat, the intensity of the beat falling back into its usual lull.

I had awoken with a start, my heart pounding, numerous times. But never with this speed or intensity. I had never felt my heart work so hard before. Not even on the dreadmill at a 10% incline at 2.6 miles per hour.

I've felt fine today otherwise. I can only conclude (because I am a doctor on the internet) that the physical symptoms were brought on by this stressful work dream.

If only I'd had this kind of dream while employed there, I would have been more committed to going back to school earlier. My tolerance for bullshit in a work condition is waaaay too high.



*Which was true - I'm still pissed to this day that I did her job in addition to mine for NINE fucking months. But did I receive TWO fucking paychecks? Noooo.

Also? That above scenario? That was pretty much the story of my almost 7 years in that position. Get passed the buck, point out in rule book where it says "Thora is responsible for the buck, but it will not be handled in the manner in which you desire, as the policy in re: buck handling has been re-written and amended to by Thora herself with the approval of iBoss, oBoss, Big Boss, and Really Big Boss. Big Boss and Really Big Boss both really like the way things are done now, BTW, so please STFU, try to remember this for next time (32nd time is a charm!) and get out of Thora's office, TIA."

Now with an updated title!

The title of this post is now: "What's your point? You used to be massively super-obese and now you're only very slightly less massively super-obese."*

Below are two pics of me, taken March 2004 and May 2008, separate and merged for comparison.

I don't know how much I weighed in the March photo. I had weighed 383 the previous December, so I'm guessing at least 390, possibly even 400.

Points of interest (if one finds this sort of thing interesting)

• HOLY CATS INCREDIBLE SHRINKING STOMACH. It's not only gone in, but up. I noticed while riding the mower the other day my stomach doesn't even consider brushing against the steering wheel anymore.
  
• Unfortunately my arms are still the same size.
  
• I have much less upper back fat now, I swear, even if there is only a teensy bit of difference in the outline.
• Legs are pretty much the same
• Did you notice how much HIGHER my stomach is??

*Courtesy of the fine person at adsl-75-49-221-142.dsl.emhril.sbcglobal.net, Villa Park, IL. Thanks, doll.

But to answer your question, as to what was my point of posting this comparison. The point is that I was wondering, "Gee, is there really a noticeable change in how I look? And would this be appropriate material for a blog entry on a weight loss blog?"

And the answer to this question is yes, I am smaller, as you yourself have pointed out. Thank you so much for the independent confirmation!

Your stating that I have gone from "massively super-obese" to "very slightly less massively super-obese" is proof that there is a noticeable change.

However, I beg to differ that the change is "very slightly less", as you took the time out of your busy day (precious leisure time? ) to affirm to a total stranger that yes, you noticed their change in size. If you didn't think it was remarkable, you wouldn't have said there was a difference. You would have told me I look no different, because that is the kind of straight-shooting, no bullshit kind of person you are.

Thank you for the encouraging, non-biased opinion, Villa Park IL. Visit me in another 6 months and give me your opinion on the update pics, ok?

Shaking the darling buds of May like a polaroid picture

Fuckin' PHEW.

School is done, and I'm off for the summer.

I needed a break from writing.

I got tired of thinking about being fat all the time, tired of feeling like I "had" to write something, not to mention school somehow went from fun happy learning time to OH EM GEE HOLY CRAP WHAT AM I DOING HERE.

So if you promise not to tell anyone, I'll tell you what I'm going to school for using interpretive dance as the medium.

On topic: I finally broke the 350 lb barrier which, like algebra, was a mental block for me for SO long. Now I'm daily between 339 and 344. The farther and farther I get from 350, the more foreign it looks. I bought a treadmill at the end of February and it has been a solid investment. And now that I'm off for the summer (I could work, but what I'd take home is like, half, what unemployment is, so I'm going to be a bum for a while), I have tons of free time to be active and stuff.

Another huge milestone - I tapered off Zoloft 100mg to 50mg to 25 to 12.5 to nothing. I am totally off my crazy pills and I am doing fine. I hope you all are doing fine also.

Getting ready for Thursday