Put Off!

Frustrated. I was supposed to be well on my way by now with a program, but Im not. As it turns out, I have to do all of the insurance things, (ie. 6 months of medically supervised diet and exercise) on my own, so I went to the Emory Bariatric site today thinking that I could at least use them for that, and turns out, they do the sleeve surgery after all. I dont know if I just missed that previously or if they just started with it, but either way, Im going the Emory route now.

Unfortunately, the Emory route is a rigid scheduled thing that apparently is quite popular since I cant even get my starting appointment until July 28th.

So yes, Im frustrated, but Im moving forward with it in any case.

I did have one positive step, well hopefully. I found a therapist last week and will see her next Tuesday for the first time. This, Im hoping, will be a key element in me figuring some things out, which in turn I hope will help me with my weight issues.

In the mean time Ive really not been trying at all. Been very lazy and eating whatever I want to. I dont feel good about it, and I have no idea why Im being so lazy in my decisions recently. Maybe that will be addressed in therapy.

Im glad, though, however long it might take, that Im still pressing onward. Usually by now Id have given up, and I almost did last week when I found out the news about having to track down all these needed services myself.

I hope Emory will be my answer for all of it.

Well see.

Update: Month 1 starts June 2011

The seminar on the 12th was really nothing more than 5 people in a small room watching a video, then being given a packet of forms to fill out and bring back. Its taken me almost 2 weeks to get my act together enough to get the forms done, and today I'm bringing them to the office to turn in. They review the documents, evaluate, then set the first appointment, which they say takes about 2 weeks, so I will officially be in the first of my 6 month evaluation in June. Really, the timing couldn't be better since I dont want to actually have the surgery until January. I also dont want to tell my Dr that for fear he will think I'm not committed. Its not that, its just I know this is going to be a hard thing for me to deal with. No drinking, and no eating normal foods for months and over the holidays? Forget it. Not the best way to start the plan I suspect.

Im almost done with my smoking, which is good, since I filled out the forms saying Id already quit. I smoked one cigarette on Thursday night, one Friday, and one Saturday. Sunday I smoked I think 2 or 3. All while drinking so Im feeling pretty good about that.

My eating has been off the charts though. I nearly made myself sick yesterday eating frozen birthday cake. Why do I have frozen birthday cake? Well my friend Anne had a birthday last week and I had the idea to got her a cake for the pool party we had Saturday, and of course, in the back of my head, I really wanted that cake so I could have some. Boy did I!!! I scoffed 2 pieces in the kitchen when no one was looking after it had been cut, then I took home the leftovers, meaning (seriously) to give it to Beth for her boyfriend John, but she got out of the car and didnt take it, and I didnt remind her to take it. So I got home, cut half of what was left which I guess equaled a little less than 1/4 of the cake, and froze it. Frozen frosting is delicious. Reminds me of being a kid and getting Baskin Robins ice cream cakes.

I had some of it upon waking Sunday morning after "brunch", then before I went to bed I polished the rest off. Thank god Id sent the other chunk home with Beth at that point.

Its so strange to me that my craving for sweets has gotten so bad recently.

I dont know if its because Im allowing myself to have them for the first time in well, forever, without guilt, so Im going nuts, or if its something else.

I do know Ive been a cranky bitch lately. I put this down to having gone over a year and a half with no sex. I feel very unattractive and out of balance.

My body feels like all of the sudden its barreling down hill where as before I almost didnt notice the slow decline.

I know Im the heaviest ive ever been in my life, and since I felt like I needed to gain weight for the qualification of insurance for the sleeve procedure, Ive been hitting fast food and crap daily.

I was so sick of fast food that I had a salad last week for dinner and thought it was the best thing Id ever eaten!

Also, the thought of all these years constantly worrying about every bite I put in my mouth, (often eating whatever I want away then just feeling the guilt afterwards), then suddenly eating crap...a LOT of crap, on purpose, so I can GAIN 8 lbs is just hard to wrap my head around.

I still dont know if I can even qualify if I lose weight over the next 6 months. Im not sure how that works.

They say I have to have a BMI of 50 to qualify for the sleeve surgery, and my thought is, well, even if I have one now, if Im supposed to be on a supervised weight loss program for the next 6 months, isint it logical to think I will be under that at the time of the end of that period?

I guess these are questions I will have to ask my Dr when I get in for that first appointment.

I have to say, going to the little session was a little nerve racking. I felt embarrassed waling in. There was a waiting room full of fat people waiting for their own surgical miracle who all turned to look at who was coming in, and I rushed right past them. I guess thats something Im going to need to get used to. Poking, prodding, staring.

Oh, part of the paperwork required that I take a front and side view photo of myself. It actually said to wear clothing that doesnt conceal, meaning they want to see as much fat as possible. Dramatic I thought. I took my photos in my normal clothes. I look very fat, so I hope it is satisfying.

I also look 50 years old, and miserable. I didnt feel like I was frowning in them, but it looks like Im about to cry or something. I think that the fat on my face is so bad its just dragging it all down. Disgusting. Seeing them made me want to hide in my house until its all over.

Will it ever be over though?

One of the 5 people in the viewing room at the Drs office was a former bypass patient. When she said that I was visibly shocked I think. I cant understand how its possible to gain so much weight back after having this surgery. ANY of the surgeries. It appears to be though, so Ive still got my work cut out for me.

Keeping moving.

Ready Set GO!

Today I will be going to my first "appointment" for surgery. Its actually not even an appointment, its a seminar that you are required to attend in order to get an appointment at Kennestone Bariatric.

Its really amazing to me the hoops you are made to jump through in order to get this surgery. Everyone talks about the raging obesity problem in America, and the cost of health care associated with it, and yet the things that can help cure (or at least control) it are made so expensive, inaccessible, or an incredible pain in the ass that people just don't do it.

My hope today is to get an idea of what I'm really facing, should I go through with this procedure, IF I can even be qualified for this procedure, which is another annoyance.

Ive been eating like a cow the last week or so actually trying to GAIN 8 lbs to put me in the zone for the procedure. Guess what...Ive lost 5 lbs. Crazy.

So Ive decided that I will just beg them to say I weigh 10lbs, or how ever many (cant be much more than that) more lbs than I do so my stupid insurance will cover the procedure.

Again...crazy. if they cant or wont do that, I'm going to have to go with another alternative. Im NOT getting a band, and I'm NOT getting regular bypass.

I'm a little nervous about this today. Although its not anything like the stuff I will be doing if I go to the Emory appointment in June, its still a step acknowledging that I'm here, I'm doing this.

I'm keeping the Emory appointment though, just in case I cant have the sleeve procedure at Kennestone because I know they have an Optifast program.

I'm hoping that today I can find out if Kennestone will be able to put me on Optifast. I'm hoping that if I can start to do that, maybe I wont need the surgery.

I don't know why I feel like I need a Dr's supervision to diet..well not even diet..to starve myself. I know that you have to do Optifast for a while right before the procedure, which ever one you go with. Its suppose to put you into Ketosis as we as shrink your liver, making the procedure easier.

Also, since you have to be on all liquids right after the procedure for I think a month, ( Ive read different things) I guess it gets your mind ready for that change, and sets up a level of commitment which clearly you must have in order to do this.

I'm continuing to read blogs and studies about the procedures and all roads point to GS. My only real reservation about it is if I have issues after the procedure, I will have them for the rest of my life, because you cant reverse it. Its PERMANENT.

So many risks, but so far everyone I have even mentioned this to have been so all gung-ho about it I'm almost in shock. I fell like yelling in their faces.."Don't you realize how HARD this is going to be for me!?? Don't you know what I'll be giving up? How much my life will change? How I will never EVER be able to do normal things?!! How RISKY it is? Is me being FAT REALLY THAT BIG A DEAL??!!"

I guess it is.

I'm not doing this for anyone else either, I guess I just thought someone would show signs of protest for the risk of my life alone, much less the miserable way I'll have to live afterwards where food is concerned.

I guess what I really need to focus on is the fact that Im going to have to say good-bye to food. I'm going to have to let it be a fuel and not something I enjoy, which frankly, sucks.

I keep wondering, what about my cooking? What about dinner parties? What about wine parings? These are things a truly enjoy and will miss horribly. When I lost weight on my own 11 years ago I stopped cooking. I stopped eating so I HAD to stop cooking. I imagine this will go the same way. It makes me depressed to even think about it.

Not the eating, the preparing, the serving of food. I mean cooking is something I'm GREAT at. Something Ive actually considered over and over making an actual career. Could I still do that? I don't see how.

Id like to meet a chef thats had WL surgery. That would be something.

In the mean time I'm STILL looking for a therapist, which is proving harder than I imagined. I think that therapy is going to really play a key part in any weight loss I might have whatever the method.

So we will see what happens today. Onward and upward.

Progress

Progress, how ever slow, is still just that.

After my last post I have more or less been obsessed with finding out how people have reacted to this radical surgery, and during my wanderings found a procedure that Id never heard of. The Duodenal Switch, which is like a Gastric Sleeve and a modified Bypass. The Sleeve part is where they basically cut off 3/4 of your stomach and staple it back up, boom, thats it. No rearranging the intestines, no "pouch", so far less complications to begin with, well, there are complications, just different ones I guess. THEN they take a portion of your small intestine and basically cut it off from the base of your stomach where it would normally empty into, and shorten it, making the stomach contents, which are far smaller than they used to be, dump directly into the digestive loop portion of the intestine, which cases malabsorption. Thus, the combo of the smaller stomach, which does not allow for as much food in general, and the malabsorption, which basically dumps a serious percentage of the the food that does make it down out of your body.

The good part is, of course, you lose weight. The bad part is, you have to be VERY careful to pound 40-50 pills (vitamins and supplements) a day for the rest of your life or you will literally die from malnutrition. Of course before you got to the death stage you would certainly know something was wrong, especially when your teeth and hair started to fall out.

Not a pretty picture.

The Sleeve procedure alone, however, does not touch the intestines at all, which makes for a slower, but still effective weight loss, much like the band, but there is no malabsorption. The down side is, you can gain weight back easier.I have read, however, that due to the stomach being cut to such a small size it can never be as big as it once was, so you would not be able to gain back to the weight you were. I wouldn't want to test that theory though.

The worst complications I have read about for those 2 surgeries range from not tolerating certain foods or alcohol (Boo Hiss!!!) to having a leak in the stomach after surgery causing MAJOR problems and additional surgeries.

Then again, some people have been able to eat just about anything and drink just fine, only the alcohol hits you harder and for some, goes away faster. Plus it slows, or can even stop altogether, your weight loss due to the fact that its sugar, and if your drinking your ingesting empty calories.

Ive been reading a lot about he alcohol part, knowing my love of the drink, and I feel like if the worst that happens is I cant ever drink again it wouldn't be a horrible consequence. Would I probably absolutely HATE it at first? Yes. I sometimes think that this procedure would be more successful for me if I COULDN'T drink ever again. Even if I hated it.

I love to drink...WAY too much, and even my justification of only drinking on the weekends doesn't get me around the fact that when I do drink I drink an enormous amount at one time, lately leaving me hung over all day and unable to do basic things. It also tends to be a driving factor in any social activity I might have the opportunity to attend. Basically if theres not going to be any booze, I aint going! Which, really, is not a good thing.

So part of my decision, for ANY of the surgeries out there is the no drinkie drinkie one. Because there is a possibility that my body will not allow it afterwards. Thats been something Ive read across the board with every type of surgery out there despite the fact that a friend of a friend i know apparently has no problems with it. I think its just the luck of the draw.

As far as the band and the regular bypass, thats out. After reading about the complications and the way you have to eat and drink afterwards, forever, I think not. Heres the kicker though, the Sleeve and the Duodenal Switch are only covered under my insurance if I have a BMI of 50 or more. FIFTY!!!! Ridiculous!!!

This is partly I think because its really not done as often or by as many surgeons and so its still considered to be a "new" surgery. Its been done since the mid 80's though and all the risks combined, I think its the way to go. Well, one of the 2 is anyway.

So I made phone calls. Based on my sister, Beth recommendation I started at Emory Bariatric Clinic. Its Emory after all, top notch, right? Well I guess a bunch of other people think that too since I cant even get an initial appointment until June 23rd!!! But I figured Ive waited this long, I can wait a little longer to get started. In the mean time I continued my research and thats when I came across the DS procedure. Id heard of the sleeve before and I dont think Emory even does it, so after reading about the DS I looked for a local surgeon in my area that performs it. Turns out there are only 2 in the state of Georgia!

Fortunately, one of those is very near my office, so I decided to call them and see what the deal is.

I dont know if they are less busy, but I do know Im going to an "Informative Workshop" discussing the procedures done at the hospital by this Dr. next Thursday. The conversation I had with the woman on the phone at Kennestone Hospital ( the DS place) was where I found out that my BMI needs to be 50 or higher to have Blue Cross Blue Shield Highmark cover this surgery. Im at.....(drum-roll please)...49.1. YIKES!! I thought that was bad enough but apparently Im about 8-10 lbs off to qualify.

She asked me if I was sure about my height, and I told her Id just been measured that Monday at my Drs office. She said, "now Im not telling you to lie about it, but just so you know, if you WERE 5'7", instead of 5'8", you would qualify."

(side note....apparently Im shrinking...I used to be 5'10")

She suggested that I I ask to be weighed and measured at the seminar. UGH!

Humiliation aside, Im doing it. Screw it. I figure in this adventure to come Im going to experience a LOT of humiliating moments involving weighing, measuring, and naked giggly parts being exposed to total strangers so I might as well get used to it.

Now Im left with the sinking feeling of, what if I dont qualify for the Sleeve or DS? I really dont want to get either of the other operations, but I feel like I will be giving up if I dont.

I always worry about the "what if" before there is a need to worry though, so this time Im going to try not to.

Not giving up, not stopping the process. Ive even still kept my Emory appointment just in case this one doesnt work out, just in case.

I will say reading the stories on line from people who have seriously regretted these surgeries..ALL types of them...do scare me, but I have to believe there are many more success stories out there as well. Ive seen some of those too, just freak out about the bad ones I guess.

All I know is if in a year from now I can be writing about the freakish amount of weight Ive lost since January I will be happy. Hopefully.

Back here again, and big changes coming.

Here we are again.

Lord its been so long! I had not realized until I pulled this site up that my last post was about Scruffy. I read it through and cried all over again.

I remembered now that my intent was to get through that post then continue with what had been happening over the summer, which is part of what has lead me to where I am now, facing the next summer.

So last year, in May, as my previous posts reflect, I was sent to the Kennesaw office at The LPA Group, my current (for now at least) job, to fill in for Trisha Rushing, the Admin at that office, while she was to be married and go on her honeymoon.

The post I did on May 13th was my first day in the office, this office where I still am, because she never came back.

I wish I could say they got married and she decided to quit work, have babies and lived happily ever after, but I cant.

I'm here for one reason only, and thats because Trisha died in September.

Its a really long story, and really better told by the reporter that happened to pick it up for the AJC, but the summary is that on the day of her wedding, feeling very sick and with a terrible migraine, Trisha finally managed to make it down the isle to marry Jim Duguay. They sat in chairs at the end of the isle because she was too weak to stand, and shortly after the ceremony she was rushed tot he hospital where she stopped breathing. They revived her, and stabilized her, then based on her symptoms gave her an MRI which revealed a tumor on the base of her brain stem.

Jim and Trisha spent the next week in the hospital on their "honeymoon", waiting for her to be well enough to have surgery to remove it, knowing the risks and discussing the decisions that would need to be made should the worst happen and she not wake up, or be left in a vegetative state.

As it turned out, the worst did happen. She never woke up, and it was determined that even if she did she would be a vegetable. In July they pulled her feeding tube. She survived an excruciating 45 (or more) days without food, and finally passed away.

Needless to say the whole company was so very sad for her, Jim and their families. It was a truly horrible and shocking thing. One so young and beautiful to die so suddenly of a creeping monster that apparently had been hiding in her head since childhood.

In any case, and not to move on too soon from this without noting the pure sadness of it, thats how I came to be permanently up in the Kennesaw office.

I was truthfully very hard at first to be happy about my "lucky" break, seeing that someone had to die for it to happen, but I couldn't help it. I loved it up there. It was my saving grace in a job that was never going to be a money maker, or a real career like others have.

I thought, well, at least I'm happy with coming to work every day. Thats something.

The economy failing more and more, jobs getting more and more scarce, yeah, I felt lucky.

Just when I really began to settle in to my new situation I had a slap of reality. James, the one man in this office that apparently doesn't like me, (and according to the others in the office didn't care much for Trisha either), apparently has been out to cut off my head ever since I walked through the door, and it was made known that I would be here even semi-permanently.

He even told a girl that works here, Kelly, that he wanted me to get fired so he could replace me with a "hot college girl".

All of this information came out after I had called in sick in November, for the first time since the previous April (when I had my long bout with depression and just didn't care about coming to work anymore).

It was a Tuesday, and I had a headache. I called in. No problem I thought. Half way through the day though James called me, leaving me a message saying they had not heard from me and wanted to see if I was OK.

I called him back right away and said, no, I had left him a message that morning. He said he had gotten a message but it was garbled and he couldn't understand it. Hmmmm....and someone was missing but it didn't occur to him that it might have been ME?

Anyway, I think, OK, well its cleared up.

So I come in to work the next day. Allen, Kelly and Shawn are here, (who I all like very much, and who apparently like me as well), and Shawn asks, "what happened to you yesterday?", I say, "didn't James tell you?", Shawn replies, "no, he said you had never called in!".

So then I explain to them what happened, and Kelly pipes in, "oh, yes, I heard him on the phone, HE CALLED "HR" AND TALKED TO NIKKI HEWETT!!"

I freeze. Nikki Hewett is the bitch that lied to Mike Reiter last year when I had my trouble in April, and on the phone told me a totally different policy than existed, only to have me call her out on it in June of last year and end up in a conference call with her and Mike, in which I ended up looking like an idiot!

So then I get nervous, and ask, "Why would James want to rat me out to HR especially when this was a legit absence?". Kelly pipes up, "Oh hes been trying to get rid of you since June."

She proceeds to explain the things she has either overheard or been told by him directly and I freak out.

My bubble is popped and I realize I'm not safe after all.

After further discussion with all the guys in the office, Kelly and I decide to talk to Harold. Harold is the big boss, and actually used to be Trishas' boss, which explains why James could never get rid of her either.

So I make arrangements to talk to Harold that day. We meet, I tell him straight up whats been going on, and he tells me, "well, why don't you come work for me". and I feel safe again. He gets the changes made right away and James is up my butt being nice to me again.

Time goes by, nothing bad, nothing great. A LOT less work to do most of the time though, and I do notice that the admin work I could be doing is being done a lot of times by engineers or James himself. To keep from giving me billable hours I assume, but it doesn't occur to me that this will actually have an effect on me now that I'm under Harolds management.

Turns out my head has been on the block all along.

The new company, Baker, that bought out LPA, is doing restructuring. Cutting the fat as it were. So 2 weeks ago Harold calls me in the conference room...WITH James. I know something is terribly wrong. I can feel it.

I didn't get fired, but I did get my hours cut. I'm down to 4 days a week. This is directly due to HR seeing that I have so few billable hours, which is totally the fault of James, and the other engineers in the Norcross office the year before that kept telling me to change my hours to ADMIN time even when it was billable to a job.

I still wonder if this has been a long term plan to let me go, although I guess if they really wanted to they would have in April of 2010 when I had missed so much work.

I was crazy upset at first, but I'm trying to look at it in a positive way. An opportunity to do something else. Maybe take a class. Something to further my career, or even change it.

My parents are supporting me, of course, and I feel bad about that too, but to be honest, I like having a 4 day work week. And so far, well, its only been 2 weeks, but I haven't made a move to do anything else. I will though. Actually my first real day was last Friday, and I had stuff to do all day so it was not wasted.

Also, I have a change coming, which might be using that day for other things, and thats what Im trying to get to in catching all this up.

Ive made the decision to get bypass surgery.

Yesterday I went to my GP, getting my height and weight recorded and faxed to Emory Bariatric center, which is the first step I had to take to get the process rolling. Today I will call them to follow up and hopefully make my first appointment there with the nutritionist and surgeon. My insurance company requires me to be under the supervision of a nutritionist and Dr for 6 months in order to approve the surgery, so if everything goes well, and if I'm still employed (which honestly is a huge fear), I hope to have the surgery in January right after New Years.

I still don't know which version of it I will end up with because I feel like I need to talk directly to the surgeons about it more, and maybe some people who have had it too, and I don't want to go through all this to have a minimal surgery thats not going to be effective in the end. That being said, I think I'm going to go for the full montey, and get the bypass, not the banding.

I haven't told a lot of people yet. I'm embarrassed about it and want to keep it as quiet as possible. I told my sister Elise at the pool Saturday, and shes very supportive. I haven't told Beth yet because although I know she will SAY shes supportive, shes not.

I told Sam over chat a week ago that I was starting the process, and hes also really supportive.

I think my biggest shock so far was yesterday when I went to my regular DR to get the process started and when I told her what my plans were she said GOOD! She said it so fast I was shocked. I thought she would tell me the risks or something, but no, she went into how my life would change for the better, and was all for it.

So here I go. I feel like its the final frontier. I mean I'm turning 41 in about 6 weeks and my life is spinning out of control in so many ways. I just think if I'm ever going to do this, now is the time. I really have nothing to lose at this point.

So my goal is to get back into the blog and keep track of everything that goes on.

My journey so to speak.

Here we go!

Rough summer

So its been a strange one.

First and foremost, my precious dog Scruffy is no longer with me. I had to make the heartbreaking decision to put her down on August 6th.

Its been almost 2 weeks now without her and I'm still going through the grieving process. Its better than it was of course, and I find myself feeling guilty for getting more / better sleep these days and not having to worry about her like I did.

In her last month she went from being really pretty OK to not being able to breathe. It just seemed to happen so fast when it was finally time. Almost as if the day I made the call she gave up, and the rest of the week she just went down hill.

Shed even been through tooth surgery at the beginning of June, which I was convinced she wouldn't survive, but she did.

Then at the beginning of July, I stayed at my folks house for 5 days while they were out of town, and that was pretty rough on her. She wasn't eating well which meant she wasn't getting her medicine as regularly. I never really realized how important that medicine was for her to be OK, and i question myself constantly about not shoving it down her throat. I question if I did the right thing, but I also have to remind myself that she ate one handful of chicken in 7 days the last week she was alive.

I had made the decision on Monday after talking to the vet, and was so upset all week waiting for the day of her death on that coming Friday that I also wonder if she felt like Id finally given up on her, so she gave up too. I just don't know.

On her last day I woke with her and was a bundle of sobs and nerves. I spent the morning cleaning the house, taking breaks to sit with her and pet her head. I did things like put the rugs back down that had been rolled up for months because of her peeing. Later I felt bad for not waiting for her to actually die before doing that.

In her final hour before the vet arrived to put her to sleep, I took her outside in my arms. She wasn't able to walk very well but I put her down in the yard in a good sunny spot. She sniffed the air and seemed to enjoy the warmth. I cried and waited for her to try to walk around a bit. She turned, looked at me and wagged her little tail. It warmed and broke my heart at the same time. More tears.

I again questioned if I was making the right decision, and had to remind myself that she was struggling to breathe and had not eaten more than that handful of chicken in more than a week.

I picked her up again and walked her around her yard. I don't know, but it seems like she knew. She was always a smart, very intuitive dog. She knew something was going on, but instead of acting scared, she was very calm. Maybe she was ready. I don't know.

When we went back inside, I laid her on the sofa on her favorite blanket and sat in silence with her. Talked to her, told her I loved her. Said the Lords Prayer, and tried to remember the verse about walking through the valley of the shadow of death but couldn't quite recall it.

My parents were coming to be with me and were late ( of course). The had asked their gardener to make a place for her in their back yard next to Max the day before, and they would take her home and handle the burial themselves.

When they pulled up my heart was in a panic, I felt like I couldn't move. It was 11:50, and the vet was due to be there at noon. I let them in and there were tears, even from my dad.

Sooner than we thought, the vet pulled up. I was numb and stared to sob as quietly as I could. I was trying not to upset her. I held her close to me kissing her head. The vet came in and softly stroked her head, asking her name and a few questions about her condition. She was quiet, professional, sympathetic. The right choice. She had me hold her and gave her a shot in her back leg muscle. I know it hurt her because she snapped at the vet. I had not been prepared for that and broke down sobbing "I'm So Sorry!" I held her tight and she stared to fade. Falling into a deep sleep in my arms, her little head slowly dropped and came to rest on my arm.

The vet asked me to lay her in a way that she could get to her back leg to give her the final shot. I asked for a minute. Held her. Feeling her warmth and knowing she was still alive, but that it was time.

I was shocked when I finally let go of her a little to move her into position. She was already dead weight. I had not realized the sedative she had given her was basically like being under anesthesia.

The vet then shaved her little leg, gave her the shot, and in a matter of seconds, ( although it seems much longer) she was gone.

Those seconds did drag out, and I remember the silence being broken by my moms attempt at casual conversation, which made me angry for a second. Later I realized she was doing her best to deal with a very sad and difficult situation in the only way she knew how.

The vet listened for her heartbeat and said, "shes gone". I held her close and cried.

It was over.

Finally I laid her back down on her blanket and started to wrap her up. I wasn't trying to rush it, I just wanted to get it over with and felt like I needed to have her buried as soon as possible. My parents didn't want to go, but I asked them to please take her home and bury her right away. Please don't let her stay like this long.

She was still warm when I put her in the back seat of their car.

I came back in, my dad following me to make sure I was OK. I wasn't crying anymore.

I sent him on his way.

I was numb.

I was waiting to freak out. To scream and cry, but it didn't come. I sat in my house, on my sofa in complete silence. I couldn't watch TV, I didn't turn on the stereo, I didn't get on the computer.

I got up at some point and packed up her food and treats, gave my neighborer Luke a call and told him to please come get them for his dogs. I cleaned up her food bowls and put them up on a table along with her toys.

A few small tears, but no breaking crying.

Still numb.

I was walking around my very quiet, very empty feeling house in circles. Every time I passed the kitchen and saw the spot where her food bowl used to be it looked so empty that I finally tried to put something there in its place. A stool, a table. Nothing fit.

Empty.

The rest of that day and the next went by in a buzz, literally. I started drinking Friday afternoon about 2:00 pm and pretty much didn't stop until Saturday night when I finally went to sleep. I had a little wine Sunday but woke up feeling bad to begin with and decided not to drink. That was the hardest day.

Finally alone all day and sober. No one called me to check on me. I guess they all assumed I was OK.

I didn't call for help. I felt like I wanted to be sad, and boy was I. The sense of loneliness was overwhelming. The sense of loss was more than I had even known. Ridiculous as it may seem to some, I felt more loss for my dog that any human that Ive lost. Ive been depressed, and felt sad but this was huge.

Since then my racking sobs have dwindled down to bursts of tears here and there over silly memories, or a habit to do something at home that I just did unconsciously for her, and reminds shes not here anymore.

One day at a time.

Writing this has been the first time in a week that Ive had a really big, unexpected cry. I'm at work and didn't expect to get into this today but here I am, tears streaming down my face as I write this. Recounting the last moments of my dear dear puppies life.

I guess it was good to get it out.

So heres to my Scruffy, who I lovingly called my bubba, tiny bubba, the tiny, hunny bunny, and finally my lumpy lump.

I miss you my sweet baby. See you soon.

30 Days Left In My 30's

Today begins the first of the last 30 days in my 30's.

What am I doing today? Well, I'm working at a different office for one thing, which has made my day so much better already. I will be here a mere 9 days, then back to hell, but I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts.

Yes, I still hate the job. Actually, after being here, I think its not the job that I hate so much as who I have to work with and the environment I'm in.

This office is totally different. Smaller, yes, but more people in general relying on me to do things for them because I'm the only admin here.

The people here are nice and the head guy is not scary like the one I deal with. But the best part? THERES NO JANE!!!!!!!!!!!!

So this makes me think that the real problem here is working with her. Well, and the one bitch Engineer that I have to deal with too, but Jane is the real issue.

I wish I could say I that I think its going to get better with her, but I just don't. Hells Bells its been a year and Ive gone so far down hill its unreal, and I blame her.

No really, I do. I came into this job with hope and drive and a great attitude, only to be met with her BS, which while "helpful" on the surface, is totally self serving. Shes a bitch. Bottom line.

I haven't seen anything else in the rags that Id even dare apply for either...well accept one job, which I did apply for but never heard anything. Understandable when there are probably 2000 other people applying for the same thing.

Honestly I just don't know what to do to change my situation. I'm trying to take more photos, and have spent an insane amount of money recently on new equipment, but I don't know where to go from here really.

40 Looms in the near future and I find myself again trying to make it work here, if for no other reason just because Ive got no where else to go.

I heard a saying yesterday, and its not a quote, but in general the message was this: If your having a hard time with something, you can either let it make you bitter, or become BETTER. That really hit home with me because I have been just that in the last few months. BITTER!

I want to be better. I want to get past all this and just make the best of a less than ideal situation. I pray every night for the strength to do just that and I feel a little better these days, but not so much that Id say I'm happy with my situation.

Ive got 9 days to enjoy the break from the evil Jane, but then I will be right back where I was again. Under her tiny yet powerfully obnoxious thumb.

I don't want to turn 40 feeling bad, so I'm going to make every effort in the next 30 days to try and make myself feel great.

We'll see.