Worked For Me and It Might Work For You.....

Here is what you have to do to lose weight:
Get the app, My Fitness Pal. Set a goal weight for yourself and the app will tell you your caloric content for the day, including how many carbs, sugars, protein etc. Measure, measure, measure. Portion everything and log everything in the app. Sounds monotonous, but it will become habit. Instead of regular yogurt, switch to greek. It has a higher protein content. Oh, PROTEIN IS THE KEY TO WEIGHTLOSS!!. Try to maintain at least 60 grams of protein daily. You don't really have to give up anything, just portion, portion, portion(even pasta). Get rid of the junk food in the house, ALL OF IT. Get those protein snacks you use to and protein granola bars. Cheese is a great snack because of the protein. Don't worry so much about fat content of anything. It's the protein and carbs you really need to pay attention to. Drink water. You can exercise if you wish. I usually just dance around the house and I mean dance. Think about it: A great rocking 5 minute song dance can really burn some calories. DO NOT eat past 8 pm. You don't need pills, drinks, or anything. The only possible drink is a protein shake, but ALWAYS READ LABELS before buying as many are still high in sugars and carbs. Try this and I guarantee you, you will lose weight the right way, slow and steady.

Excuse me?? I have what???

It started with an immediate CAT scan as they were awaiting blood test results.  The blood work showed something called an elevated CA-125.  They were awaiting CAT scan results.  No one would tell me anything until the gyn doc was told.  Not a blip, not anything.  My mind was in overdrive.  And it hurt to breathe...like literally.  I recall being admitted and wasn't going to be allowed to leave until the gyn doc made his rounds, which took FOREVER.  I waited, and waited.  I didn't want to stay overnight, just let me out of here.   But no, gyn doc had to see the chart and peruse the results before anything could be done.  Bastards!!  I had my mom and aunt on stand by to spring me out once I got the good(or bad) word.  At 11 pm, the good doc finally showed up.  He talked around the results almost as if avoiding saying what he thought.  I believe referral to another physician at another hospital was being put into play.  This part is all kind of fuzzy, but it's relayed to the best of my recollection.  I was finally sprung at almost midnight.  It still hurt to breathe or even move the upper part of my body.  Nothing was ever said about that.  All I know is I couldn't wait to get home.  And I thought I was going to be left alone.....bwahahahaha.  The first appointment was actually with radiology for a 'tapping' to get rid of the massive amount of fluid in my abdomen.  Much like a keg is tapped, so was I....some local anesthetic and a larger that life needle was inserted(with radiographic guidance) and I was tapped.  Filled about 4.5 quarts of a beer-looking substance.  Felt so much better afterwards, but the idea was tossed around for monthly tappings.  Oh joy.  Then Upon getting home after this, I was able to relax, sort of, so I decided to get onto the all wise Internet and look up an elevated CA-125.  That, I should not have done.  Turns out, CA-125 or cancer-antigen 125, is a tumor marker.....for ovarian cancer.  I recall not being told, at first, what my result was.  Then I recall, some one saying it was 1799.  Normal is 35 or less.  Not good.  Then I recall, quite quickly, getting into see that other doctor.  He was a gynecologic-oncologist.  The C word wasn't stated at this point...at all.  In retrospect, the local doc wouldn't say because I don't think he was sure.  I remember going down, not to an office, but to a hospital, which I thought was weird.  Like, why couldn't I got to his office.  I recall getting there on a Friday and was admitted(again, weird to me).  The time came and I got to meet the good doctor and a few of his fellow doctors.  They all looked at my results and recommended surgery ASAP to definitively see what they were dealing with.  I recall looking at my husband(who was trying to corral our then 2.5 year old son) saying but we wanted to have one more child.  They looked and stated that if we did, it would have to be IVF and it would have to work the very first try.  At this point, I looked at the doctor, absolving him from any repercussion in answering the question I was to ask him:  Do you think I have cancer?.  He shook his head yes and that if it were up to him, not to put off surgery.  My husband and I agreed.  It was scheduled for that Sunday.  Prep was to start the following day.  It was late in the evening before they were able to give me anything to eat.  It was a Friday during Lent.  I honestly think a nurse gave up her tuna sandwich so I could have something.  It almost felt like a Last Supper.  Things were never the same after that, nor will they ever be.

Life Back To Normal....Psych!!..........NOT

Life was just chugging along.  We were adjusting quite well to parenthood, the ups, downs going outside to 'water a tree' events etc.  It was, after all, life.  We always wanted more kids, but try as we did, it just wasn't in the cards.  There was one other positive test in 2005 and yet another heartbreaking early loss.  It was early 2007 and time for that women-love-everywhere yearly appointment and I described my frustrations to my doctor prior to my exam.  He said he'd discuss options afterward.  During the exam he felt something on or near my right ovary that he thought might be a cyst, which would account for the pain I would have mid-cycle during ovulation.  He sent me for an ultrasound a week or two later and it was discovered that it was a cyst.  He said I could either wait a cycle or two to see if it went away on it's own or try shots of Lupron to reduce it's size.  The only caveat to the drug is that it would put me in a chemically induced menopause.  Considering our difficulties, I opted for the shots.  I would get them once a month and then an ultrasound in a month or two afterward to check progress.  Shot one....not bad.  I hated the fact that it could only be administered in my rear-end.  The menopausal symptoms were not fun...normal....psychotic bitch....normal.  The fact that my belly seemed always bloated wasn't fun either, but I was indulging in anything and everything chocolate at the time.  Just before shot number 2, I was examined and had mentioned to the doc my belly bloating.  I looked, honestly, like I was pregnant which I knew I wasn't.  He said to me that muscle tone decreases with each pregnancy and that technically I had been through two.  I wasn't sure whether to agree, cry or kick him.  I was deciding that during the subsequent examination.  I noticed he had a rather puzzled look on his face as he stated he was having trouble 'feeling' what he should be feeling.  He mentioned that it could be gas but really didn't seem overtly concerned as the Lupron could have this type of effect.  Off for shot number two.  I forget how long after shot number two, whether it was days or weeks, but it was nearing March of that year and before I was going to get shot number 3, I demanded an ultrasound to see if this bastard of a cyst(my words, not his) has gone down any.  He agreed and I was scheduled, actually right away.  I recall going in and the male tech putting the cold gel stuff on and proceeding.  Then it got quiet......way too quiet.  He had asked why I was sent for this and I told him my story in a nutshell and that I wanted to see if the cyst shrunk any.  I even mentioned the fact that the doctor stated my belly size, which seemed to be getting bigger by the week, may have been gas.  I recall this so clearly as if it happened yesterday.  Whether or not the tech was supposed to tell me anything, hell it may have even been a physician doing the test...he turned the screen so I could see and pointed out all this black space.  He stated "see that black area?? You have a lot of it.  It's not gas, it's fluid".  His advice was to go to the desk and have me call my doctor ASAP and convey to him the news.  He was right there when I made the call.  At the time of that call, I had NO CLUE what was going to happen.  My gut was telling me it wasn't going to be good, but never in my life had I ever imagined what I would be told next.