Day 2, what in God's name is that "full" feeling?

So, it's Friday morning. The past day and a half has been very strange. I haven't had solid foods for more than two weeks and have not even had a protein shake since Tuesday, but seriously, the very site of food is repulsing me. I'm supposed to eat 2 oz of jello or popsicle, regular calorie stuff, four times a day. In addition to drinking my water. If I even look at a glass of water I start to feel a 1000 pound watermelon in my abdomen.

But, other than that, I feel really good. The gas is still there and I think that may even be what is causing the full feeling. But there is less and less gas as I walk and walk. Gas X strips help too.

Also, I haven't touched pain meds and I hope to drive tomorrow. I really only could have used them at night while I was trying to sleep. Mainly because I can only spend about ten minutes on my back, so I typically sleep on my sides. When I was in the hospital I woke up about every hour from the pain of trying to shift. Last night, I fell asleep on one side, woke up at about 2:30am to roll over to the other side and then woke up again at 5am to roll over again. Tonight, I'll wish for the best.

Regarding Rosie, I expect her home in about two hours. As for her name, I shared all of your suggestions with the family. But in the end, we are going with a joke that I made when we first met the dog. I kidded that the name should be Tres, you know, Spanish for 3. But we're going to add a Y to make it Tresy. This way our Boston Terrier, Rex, won't get confused.

I would have preferred the name to have been better associated with my surgery. But, if you think about it, the name is much like this blog. Calling a three-legged dog Tres is at best not politically-correct. But that's my brand of humor. In my opinion, you can't really resolve a problem until you have examined it mentally and emotionally. Wouldn't laughing about it be an indicator that one is dealing well with the emotional side? Hence the name, Fat Bastard.

I'll check in again soon.

Wow, the grass really is greener . . .

Just a quick line from Blackberry to tell everyone that everything went quite well. Pain is manageable, mostly just gas. Cotton mouth is almost gone and I am not even feeling sluggish anyomore from the anasthesia. Thanks for the great support everyone, and the dog names, too.

Surgery tomorrow and feeling Rosie

I have been thinking for a few days about what to type tonight. Should I mention crossing the Ts and dotting the Is on any work I'm leaving behind at the office? The recording of various movies on the DVR to prep for my few days on the Lay Z Boy? Yes, I told my wife and kids I love them and drafted a list of people my wife needs to call with updates.

But then, on Sunday, something happened. See, a week ago, my sister in law suggested I go meet a black lab at one of our local shelters. She says the dog has a great attitude but is missing a paw. I said "yeah right, I have the time to adopt a new dog." Surgery recovery, daughter in three sports. Time is not an option. I didn't give it another thought.

But as the surgery approached, I began feeling this sense of gratefulness. I have this tremendous opportunity here, afforded to me by work, family and friends. This surgery, if utilized correctly, will greatly improve my life. How in God's name am I going to pay this forward. On Sunday, while at the pinnacle of this dilemma, I get the e-mail from my sister-in-law. A picture of Rosie, the three-legged pooch is the shelter's Facebook dog of the week. 10-months-old, been in a shelter for all but 1 of them. The paw was amputated after it was injured but never healed correctly.

Dilemma solved, she comes home on Friday.

Now, the new dilemma is the name. She does not know her name very well, so we are considering changing it. I am looking for a name that pays tribute to my endeavor tomorrow, any suggestions?

I will update as soon as I'm home on Thursday.

See you on the other side.

Just shy of half way

Thank you everybody for the great comments.


I am one week in, as today is Day 7. After counting the days on a calendar, I suppose I could have waited a day to get started because there will actually be 15 days of all-liquids before May 5. But one day is nothing. I was just eager to move forward.

This weekend I traveled with my daughter to a soccer tournament in Ohio. My wife was flexible enough to help me determine, which will be more painful, staying at home where I will be less busy and more tempted by food or to go out of town. Had the weather had been any good I may have stayed home, so I can depend on grass cutting to keep me busy. But when I saw the weather forecast - I began to pack my bag.

Friday night through Sunday morning I was fine. I didn't even balk at explaining my surgery to the parents of other players who would often eat together for meals at the hotel. At first, I was concerned that my daughter (16 years old) may get embarassed. I have learned that anything that can be seen as a topic of conversation can cause undue embarassment to a female teen, but for the most part, she is not like that.

But then, there was 10:30 am Sunday morning. After the last game of the weekend. We were at Bob Evans, the two of us and two other parent-daughter combos. The worst part of a brunch is you don't know what to eat, breakfast or lunch foods. The best part, at least if you're not approaching a surgery date, is that if you just played a weekend of soccer, you can order both. AND . . . they did.

Chicken tenders and sunny-side-up eggs. Cheese sticks and bacon. These are a few of my favorite things.

But what made my abdomen do a flip, cinnamon cream pancakes. Has anyone been there recently? I had not, but I saw the picture on the menu and said wow. Then someone had to order them. Right? They just had to do it.

So, somewhere along vacation this summer. I'm stopping at Bob Evans. It may even be for just one bite and then throw the plate away. I'll chew 50 times and not drink anything 2 hours before or after I eat, but doggoneit, I'm gonna have a bite of those.

But for now - Muscle Milk Light, one scoop of chocolate and one scoop of banana. Mmmnn!

All liquids, Day 3

It's all in my head. It's all in my head.

If I keep repeating it, will I eventually believe it?

Truth be told, it has not been so bad. You're never very full, but so long as you don't go more than 5 hours in between shakes, you're never really starving either.

Of course, reasoning like that does nothing for you when you are preparing your kids'meals, smelling the smells and stirring the pots. Test in self discipline - PASSED.

May 5 can't come soon enough.

Everyone, thank you for all the comments on my last post. Addiction sucks huh?

Addictive Personality?

Topic: Addictive personality; real concern or simple excuse?

Here is the background story. As I mentioned before, this past weekend was a work event I have been planning for the past few months. Things were hectic, though it all ended well. In the morning, we served doughnuts to a staff of volunteers and there they were. Chocolate or glazed covered discs of fried dough. I probably could have eaten one, even two, without much harm, but it was nerves that drove the desire at all. The event was getting to the point where it was going to start running itself and I was crazy. I stepped out of the area and found a co-worker smoking a cigarette. Now, I chewed snuff for years and quit about seven months ago for the surgery, but cigarettes I could pick up and put down easily. So, I enjoyed a smoke with my colleague and found that it calmed me, allowed me to think a bit more clearly.

The following Sunday, my brother-in-law and my sons are in the car together. Somehow the discussion of alcohol began between my brother-in-law and I. I am not much of a drinker now, but don't ask me to recall too many Friday or Saturday nights from my college years. My 13-year-old kidded, "I enjoy a cold beer every once-in-a-while too."

This child and I, probably more so than my other two kids, have more in common when it comes to personality traits. Very instinctive, very impatient and very need-it-now. Knowing that he has probably already been in social situations where he was offered alcohol, I tell him he should wait even longer past 21 to try alcohol because he and I have the same "addictive personality."

Mind you, the same personality that would have driven me to eat four or five doughnuts the morning before.

Sure, it's a real concern. But it is it too simple to classify every over-indulgent act an example of an addictive personality? And remember, there is not a single court room that allows for the "addictive personality plea" in cases involving drugs, alcohol or even gambling. Though, addiction treatment is often part of the sentencing process.

Whatever the case may be, I wish they made a pill for it.

Never fear, Fat Bastard is STILL here.

Two weeks since my last post, sorry for my absence friends.

But I have not been without epiphanies or reality checks. The first one directly involves my two week hiatus in posts.

It is funny how old habits don't die very easy. I have seen a glimpse of the horrible habits that have gotten me into this mess. Since the stamp of approval from my insurance company, the 40 inches of snow that has plagued the Northeast has melted to show the list of Spring chores around the house. My daughter is playing on two club soccer teams and her high school track team. An ambitious work project has eased its way outside of the typical 40-hour work week. And, the brake line in my Griswold-like mini-van has collapsed and will be in the shop until Wednesday, when I am scheduled to have jury duty. Oops, don't forget Easter shopping and cooking.

And what does all that mean? When was the last time this fat bastard has seen a treadmill? Food intake has been more than it should be. Don't get me wrong, I haven't fallen completely off the wagon, but the horse pulling the wagon has begun to slow.

Habits don't change easily, do they? The funny part is, I believe that if I checked, I would find a direct correlation between how much I post on this blog and how often I work out. Thanks for being there.

At any rate, my gym bag is in the car. Time to whip that pony back on course.

I hope everyone had a nice holiday.