Tuesday, July 28, 2009


I had one of those dreams this morning where you swear it was real... you can smell, hear and touch things and just know that you are there...

I was in my kitchen trying to wash dishes, but the water wouldn't get hot and the other side of the sink kept clogging up. Then, my Uncle Bill came up behind me and said, "Why didn't you say hi to me?" I turned around to him and he picked me up and hugged me and said "I love you, kid." And I could feel him... his wiry frame as he hugged me, his cheek against mine. And I said, "I love you too." Then he pulled away and was gone.

My Uncle Bill has been dead for almost 18 years. He was killed in a motorcycle accident in September 1991, just a few days after his 34th birthday. It was such a blow to my family - so sudden and so unnecessary. This is the first time I have ever dreamed about him. And I can't believe that I still remember how he felt, how his voice sounded and how he smelled. I don't know what the dream means. I hadn't been thinking of him lately. I guess it is funny what the mind will do.

I have been spending all day trying not to cry... I guess I should just let it go and see if that helps.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Bellyachin' (Pun Intended)

So, if you know me, you know how much I hate my self-proclaimed "Trucker Belly" and that I have been considering plastic surgery to fix it. Well, consideration over. The tummy tuck is scheduled for August 21st.

I finally got tired of fantasizing about wearing pants that actually fit... so I made an appointment for a consultation with Dr. Vishnu Rumalla in Keller. Mr. Fix-it and I went to the consultation on June 30th and it was eye-opening. There is nothing like an examination gown, full-length mirror, purple surgical marker and a plastic surgeon kneeling in front of you while tucking your belly in on itself to make the realization more clear that your stomach is fully jacked up.

It was kind of amazing, actually. When he opened my gown, he immediately said, "oh, okay, you carried your babies high and they were very large." Score one for the good doctor. He explained that the reason why I have what I will refer to as my "top poochie" is because I carried the kids high, thus my abs were separated (by several inches) and that no matter how much exercise I do (ab work or cardio), it will not go away. In fact, he said that by working my abs I was making it worse because I was strengthening them in the wrong position. Who knew?

The area of skin/fat he is going to remove measures in at 10 inches long and 17 inches wide. But he said that it will only weigh 3 or 4 pounds. Insane. He is also going to lipo my flanks (which makes me feel like a cut of beef) and my inner thighs. He said that he "loves" my outer thighs (score two for the doc), but that my inner thighs have a pocket that will be difficult to lose. Suck away! I'm already going to be in pain, pain, pain, so why not?

So, as I count down the days (31) until this momentous occasion in my life, I begin to wonder if I am just being vain. And I will admit that vanity plays a large part of it. However, I think about how my undies are always falling down and how my pants are always saggy in the butt (both because my waist is about two sizes bigger than my hips, not to mention the "bottom poochie" that has to housed somewhere) AND the fact that my lower abs hurt like hell any time I do any kind of exercise. And I think it is okay to want this and to do this for myself. Maybe it's kind of stupid, but I feel like once this out-of-whack part of my body is gone, that I will have more confidence in myself in general. And I know I will be more motivated to complete my body/health transformation without the Trucker Belly weighing me down.

Stay tuned...