This week has literally been a week from hell. Q was back at CHOP for a shunt revision. His 4th in 3 years. Followed the same pattern we've seen in prior revisions: behavior changes, tiredness, eye wiggles and crossing and finally, vomiting. This time was a little different though. Sunday night, Q decides that a little bit of children's molding clay looked appetizing and ate some of it for dinner. I caught the huge piece he was chomping on and didn't think he had swallowed any of it but at 1am, he proved me wrong. Between 1 and 3 am, he vomited up 3 pieces of red clay. Nice... by 3:30, he had collapsed in exhaustion. Eric and I both followed. We all woke to Q puking again at 6am. One more piece of red clay. I decided to take him to the local ER (NEVER AGAIN!!!) and was basically sent home in less than a half hour with "yeah, that's what we'd expect him to do". Yeah, but for how long? Well, in the end it didn't really matter.

By 11 am, Q was still vomiting about every half hour. He couldn't keep anything in his stomach, not even water. I decided to call the pediatrician to see if they can give me some advice. About a half hour later, the DOCTOR called me back - not the phone nurse, not the nurse practitioner or the PA, but the Doctor. She agreed with me about a possible shunt problem where the ER doctor completely didn't even want to hear about it. She suggested that I head to Philly so I called Eric and we both agreed that waiting for him to get out of school after 4 pm would not be a good idea. I was terrified about the idea of taking Q to CHOP by myself and possibly having him admitted with no one to lean on. Yeah, the nurses and staff at CHOP are great but they don't know you.

By 1:30 I had driven to Philadelphia, thankfully there was little traffic (odd for that time of day) and Q had only thrown up once. We got to the ER and we were put on the priority list (as all shunt malfunctions were) and only sat for a few minutes before we met with triage and were back in room 29, the coveted room that was in front of the nurses station AND had it's own bathroom so I wouldn't have to pee in a bucket or leave Q screaming with a stranger to watch him. Both would have been stressful for me and for him, I'm sure.

By 7 pm, we had gotten his shunt series X-rays and they had to sedate him for the CT. At this point he had thrown up 3 more times in the ER and wasn't doing well. In the past, we've had to walk him around the ER several times but this time, he didn't want to even get up and play with the toys the Child Life girls had for him. The fact that a hot blonde didn't even make him sit up was concerning to me. Evidently it was to them too because by 8:30 pm, we were admitted. I gave Eric a call to tell him to come and bring the bag. See, it would have been silly for Eric to drive all the way to Philly for a 50/50 chance that we'd be going home. One of us would have had to leave to go home and get the bag anyway so at least he could get some sub plans together because once admitted, we knew we were in for at least a 3 day stay.

By 10 pm we were in ICU - where they send all neurological patients. We were on 7 East, 2 rooms down from where we were in February. Another double room which kind of sucks because 7 South has private rooms and we could both get a sleeping chair instead of Eric getting the chair and I sleep in the bed with Q. He's getting bigger now and it's not as comfortable as it has been when he was smaller. Luckily he doesn't toss to much anymore.

Q got worse as the night went on, being dehydrated does that. His sugar dropped to 41 by Tuesday morning and everyone was concerned. They pushed all kinds of fluid trying to bring it back up and hydrate him. He still wasn't really responding the way we had hoped and by 2 pm Tuesday, word came down that they were coming to get him. They never give you enough time to prepare yourself - even thought we knew he was on the surgical list. See, all day the neurosurgeon had been saying he didn't think it was the shunt while the ICU residents thought it was - relying on us. At 3:30, Q came back from recovery with the neurosurgeon resident saying "Mom is always right".

Frankly, I didn't want to be right this time. I never want to be right. NEVER. With 5 minutes to go for the orderly to come and take him from my arms, I cried, telling Eric that I didn't want to be right this time. That is the most horrible feeling, to have some stranger, however kind and understanding, come and take your child from you to go and operate on their brain. Or any part of them. It's like being stabbed in the heart and stomach at the same time. I couldn't breathe and all I could do was wrap my arms around myself and try to hold it together so Q wouldn't get upset, even though they had given him the happy juice. I wanted some happy juice. I got some chocolate instead. Didn't make me feel any better, truthfully.

By 1am, Q was feeling a bit better, just tired. I was finally able to steal a few hours of sleep while the guys watched TV until 5 am, when Q fell asleep. After that, it was just a matter of getting him to drink something, his sugar to come back up above 85 and for him to eat something and keep it down.

We went home around 2:30 on Wednesday, thankful to be home and for Q to be OK.

What stands out in my mind today is an event on Tuesday. I was hungry and didn't feel like eating in the room, mostly because I feel guilty about eating around Q when he can't so for the first time ever, I went to the cafeteria by myself. I sat and ate my slice of pizza and got some ice cream to try and comfort myself. I was in the elevator on the way back up to ICU. See, people who work at CHOP know that if you're going to the 7th floor and have a blue bracelet, your kid is in tough shape and is in the Intensive Care Unit. There was an older black man, in scrubs and a paper gown in the elevator with me. I think he may have been a surgical nurse because he had paper shoes on. Well, he looked at me and said: "How's your baby doing?" I said he was in rough shape (because he was at that point). He said: "How's Mom doing?" I said I was in rough shape too. He walked across the elevator to me, put his hand on my shoulder and said "Take care of yourself, Mom. Your baby needs you to be strong." I just nodded because frankly, I couldn't speak. He got off on the 5th floor and as the doors closed on me in an empty elevator, I broke down. Thankfully I had 2 floors before the doors opened again.

I didn't tell Eric about that when I got back to the room. I wanted to keep that touch just for me. So, to the Powers out there, whatever, whomever you are, Thank You.

I have never been the one to be envied for my body. I had always been the one envying. Lately, I'm finding myself on the receiving end of hateful looks from people that have gotten heavier as I have gotten thinner. I am perplexed - mostly because I can remember those looks and how it feels. I know what you are thinking. You are thinking how disgusting you are for the body you have. That you have let yourself go and now look at you. I know because I was there.

The feelings it brings up in me are confusing. On one hand, I am flattered and proud. I have made amazing changes to my body and I am proud of the way I look. The other part of me is ashamed. Should I have stayed fat because you feel bad about yourself by looking at me?

Don't hate me. I am still the same person I have always been. I still have the same insecurities that you have. The only difference between you and me is that I have committed myself to getting and staying fit. I didn't want to be the Fat Mommy, sitting on the park bench watching my child play and not being able to go down the slide with him or climb up the stairs or carry him when he needed it.

I DECIDED for myself. In 2001, when I got married I weighed 237 lbs. Just this past week I watched a video from my honeymoon. At the time I didn't think I was that fat but I was fooling myself. I was F-A-T. No doubts.

I COMMITTED the time and energy to lose weight and get fit. I could NOT let myself get any fatter and it WOULD HAPPEN. With the way I was eating and not moving, I was driving myself to an early grave.

I am still SUCCEEDING. Every day I still fight the battle. I love ice cream, pizza, cookies, etc. and I struggle to overcome my addictions. And addictions are exactly what they are. I lose sometimes. Sometimes I win. I beat myself up about it sometimes still. I just keep trying.

So don't hate me because I lost weight. No one can make you run the journey and it is a JOURNEY. Getting fit and losing weight is a lifelong battle, especially for someone like me.

BUT IT CAN BE DONE!

Well, yes and no - 60 days was about 2 weeks ago so I'm a little late in posting the results. No photos either so you'll just have to wait for my 90 day shots.

Measurements:
Weight: Day 1: 167          Day 30: 161          Day 60: 159
Chest:    Day 1: 39 1/2     Day 30: 39           Day 60: 38 1/2
Waist: Day 1: 33              Day 30: 31 1/2      Day 60: 30"
Hips: Day 1: 41                Day 30: 40            Day 60: 39"
Right Thigh: Day 1: 24      Day 30: 23 1/2       Day 60: 21 1/2"
Left Thigh: Day 1: 23 1/2  Day 30: 23             Day 60: 21"
Right bicep (flexed): Day 1: 13 1/2     Day 30: 13 1/2   Day 60: 13 1/2
Left bicep (flexed): Day 1: 13 1/2       Day 30: 13 1/2   Day 60: 13 1/2

So I'm a little depressed about the bicep measurement because I can see the "little nugget" of a muscle and my tricep muscles are like diamonds. I'm going to keep thinking that it's because the fat "wing" is getting smaller.

Friday I did Arms & Shoulders. I mostly stayed within 12-15 reps at 12-15 lbs. Other than my triceps, I don't hurt anywhere so that makes me happy. Next week, I'm going to try to do more reps with the 12s and/or 15s.

Yoga - I knew I wouldn't like the yoga and I was right. It's not because I can't do it - I can; it's that I can't keep my mind quiet! All sorts of things pop into my head, most of them not so good. I much prefer pilates because I feel like I'm accomplishing something. I feel like I have worked after Pilates. Yoga, not so much. My left knee cap felt like it was going to pop out when I was trying to keep it straight in most of the poses.

Q didn't want me to leave this morning (he's not feeling good) so I gave up on Spin class. Luckily I didn't teach today so it wasn't like I HAD to go. Next week I will either go to Spin class or I will do Turbo Jam Cardio Party or something else.

The diet isn't going very well considering that Q and I downed a pint of Gadzooks Blanc in about 5 minutes last night and we had pizza for dinner tonight. Ugg.... weekends are tough because of all this unstructured time. Doesn't help that it's the PMS week where I have a hard time controlling myself around food! Not fun! Tomorrow is another day - legs and back!

With some trepidation, I am posting my "before" pictures and measurements.  In 30 days, I will post another set of photos with measurements to see if I have progressed.  Be kind! Weight: 167 Chest: 39 1/2" Waist: 33" Hips: 41" Right Thigh: 24" Left Thigh: 23 1/2" Right Bicep: 13 1/2" Left Bicep: 13 1/2"

Since I can't figure out how the heck to post pictures here, you can view my "before" gallery. 

Today I'm home from work because Q wasn't feeing up to going back to school today. Frankly I'm kind of glad to be home... it's nice and quiet right now and I'm able to actually recharge my batteries.

So today I tried Kenpo X. I've done kickboxing before with Turbo Jam so I wasn't afraid of it but was really expecting something that would really be an ass kicker. I had fun and worked hard but stopped short of burning 500 calories. There was no other way for me to Bring It more than I did other than maybe NOT taking the 3 breaks. Some of the moves take some coordination but after 2-3 reps I picked it up and really drove it home.

Kenpo X is a slight disappointment. I liked it though.

Tuesday is my 6pm Spinning class at Gold's in Oaks, PA so it's my planned "rest" day. Wednesday starts the cycle again with Chest/Back. I KNOW that will hurt so I'll post my revised version with pull ups.

I'll also post my "before" pictures and measurements. Woo hoo.