DeLarla

I will bow my head and put my hand over my heart. Goodbye, cruel food!

Betty, have you gotten the farties yet? May as well get used to them. My wound isn't healed yet... still holding my breath and hoping though!

Samy, thanks for joining us. Lots of crazy women around here and some awesome guys, too. Everything you ever wanted to know about the Lap Band, right at your fingertips. Good luck!

Kathy, as long as you have restriction, you don't need a fill. I only had one fill, and I still have restriction (banging on pine trees.) In a perfect world, we'd get the perfect fill then have our port removed. Too bad we don't live in a perfect world. If it works, don't fix it. I once did a report on breast implants, and during my research I learned that all implants leak. I spoke with manufacturers of breast implants that told me if you set an implant on a newspaper, it would eventually show a light "Water mark" so to say. I don't know if the band is the same as a breast imlant, but I can't imagine the saline stays fresh and good forever, so I look forward to more responses on this question that has earned you a gold star. Most excellent question, my dear.

You mean I'm just a lil gassy? Duh, it didn't take no fancy test to tell ME that!

Does anyone know what this means? "relatively mild limitation of gastric distension at EG junction."

Oh my gosh, don't EVEN get ME started on them! See Penni's response.

My primary doctor was across the examining room grabbing her stethescope to give me a little listen. She heard my pouch from across the room and yelled, "what the hell was that?"

You use utensils? I need to work on that. Alex, thanks for sharing - I couldn't even finish reading your post, but grabbed the phone and dialed my doctor frantically since I'm still waiting for my Upper GI results from 2 weeks ago. I'll start a new thread now that I have preliminary results. I hope this problem is something the unfill can resolve. This is an excellent reminder to all of us that we (I, ME, NOW) need to eat slow every single time. I've come a long way, but it's a daily battle. Last night I got "golf ball in throat" but waited for it to subside and kept eating. No, no, no. The band is working, yet a lot of us fight it. You have an excellent band-itude.

Are you saying that insurance is going to buy you a band? If so, that's a doubley-whammy CONGRADS to you! Just getting banded is a huge thrill, but not having to pay for it is phenomenal! Good luck to you. The wait is worth it!

I weigh myself every day (because I'm scale-obsessed) but I only log my weight in once a month on my band anniversary. Tomorrow is official weigh-in day. You can't compare weight fluctuations from one day till the next. It takes a while for your body to adjust up or down. I even fluctuate from week to week, so I only trust my montly numbers.

I'm so bad at this. I have video of Kitty Milo being born 15 years ago. I live in denial because my pets are going to live forever. I can't even imagine that kind of pain. So sorry, Penni Money. Alicia must be a mess. Good for you that you got walking. Don't ever call it "just 30 minutes" though. That's a perfect walk for someone who's been through what you have. Now fill up that enormous jacuzzi tub with bubbles and relax.

There's no way on earth my insurance will pay for a port replacement. I'm still holding my breath to see if they cover the torture treatment my surgeon did on me. Penni isn't too close - it's a 5 hour drive, but she lives where I used to live before I moved to Las Vegas, so she's close to my family, friends, old high school, all my hangouts. I feel like one of the Brady Bunch when I look up at all the pictures (the beginning where they are in a tic-tac-toe thingy.) So I'm looking way up waving and smiling at Greg. Hiya!

Will you guys help me yell at Penni? A mile is awesome. The extra 1/2 is a bonus. A 30 minute walk is incredible. Did John walk for 30 min? Did your next door neighbor? Did the bimbo at Starbucks? Did I walk this morning? No. Give yourself credit where credit is due. Everyone here is moving, we get gold stars and don't need to win no stinkin challenge to get them. *** Sprinkles fairy dust all over the pretty ladies in their gym clothes*** Off to read the other post.

Penni, Karen is going to TJ this weekend. She's going to ask Ortiz/Martinez if they'll consider putting a new port in a different place instead of waiting around for this booger to heal - so that it will finally heal. Like I have 2 grand for a new port, but I think I can pay with a kidney in Mexico.

Penni - maybe we'll do a one week challenge since I'll be seeing you next weekend. Name your game. Grrrr. I'm so jealous of Ms. Beca out there in No. Cali! Betty, what's your doc say about crunches? I stopped doing them altogether because I want my port incision to heal. It's all about my port incision!

"DeLarla, I don't know whether to laugh or cry or both after reading your post." The answer, my dear, is to LAUGH... and dance! Great, I finally decide to wear some mascara and now it's glueing my eyes shut. I think I just popped my band laughing so hard. Sorry, Bright (and I'm saying this with sickening sarcasm) about your lunatic mother, and only someone like me, who has a lunatic mother, can laugh at what seems tragic for others. My Momster (I've never called her Mother) once took off in the middle of the night and left the same vile note saying we were trying to kill her. The note said she was too tired to drive at night, but because we forced her to leave she was going to be murdered on the highway at my evil hands (uhhh, I was asleep.) Good thing the courts finally adjudicated her insane and took my little brother away - at least he was saved! Now I'm laughing even harder at you shaking a finger in the sky! The latest update on the "Momster" is her insane 154 page letter to President Bush. She's been rambling to the police, the post office, every attorney on the eastern seaboard, and the IRS for the past 3 decades, but they all toss her letters in the "coo-coo bin." Like George Bush is going to read past the subject line. I should post a page for all your entertainment. Now, where do I apply for the Fat-O-Gram position?

There's nothing funnier than an Irish woman speaking in an English accent! You need to move to Hollywood, Dahling, and become an actress! I'd lovvvvveee to chitty-chat with you on the tele (isn't that how they say things in Ireland?)

I'm new at this, too. I'm so new that I don't even have a port. But I gotta keep my sense of humor, otherwise I'll crack up altogether. I get paid to be serious 40 hours out of the week. The rest of the time is just for laughing.

Bright, your name suits you. I just stare into your exotic eyes and pretend I'm hearing your darling Irish accent with mine very own ears! I'd come to rescue you in a heartbeat, but I have to wait for my husband to turn into a rich prince. For Heaven's sake, I've kissed the old frog enough times!

heee heeee... Penni, I'll post boobies if you do! Hell, we all have them! I was mushing my dough-belly around this morning wondering how much longer I'll have to lug it around. Hopefully not for life - I've already done my sentence.

P.S. I wear tank tops and spaghetti straps all the time. I figure the sooner the world gets used to seeing real women and real flesh, the sooner they'll stop looking at us like we're freaks. One time a car full of guys started teasing me about being fat, so I flirted with them. I told them they wanted me, otherwise they wouldn't be checking out my fabulous body. The more they gagged, the heavier I laid it on them. I told them they couldn't handle me or I'd hurt their little bitty pee-pees. It was quite fun. No guy likes to think his itty bitty pee-pee is inadequate. It's all about attitude, and I have every single right to enjoy my life to the fullest, which means not having to drape curtains over me every time I leave my house. Touche'

If you poured my skin into my palm, it would slip through my fingers like pancake batter. If I had the money, I'd have a tummy/arm/thigh tuck right this minute, regardless how far I am from goal. I have pictures of me at 7 years old with my hanging pooch. I'm over it. Cut it off!

Bright you little doll, go ahead and bitch all you want! We're only human, and we all have the right to cry and kick and scream and whine after everything we've been through. We've all been morbidly obese, so we all know each other's hell. Nothing's personal around here. I'm in the same boat as you, and I've only had a band for 6 months. And I still don't even have a port, so I can't get a fill. Maybe the band isn't 100% effective at getting 100% of all our weight off, but I'm ALIVE today because of the band, and not just physically. I was morally, psychologically, spiritually and physically bankrupt when I was 60 pounds fatter. Last time I was at the doctor, I was thrilled with my weight loss and couldn't wait to get my hands on his BMI chart. He showed it to me, and I was still ALL THE WAY IN THE RED! I'm still morbidly obese according to his chart, even after losing 60 pounds. But I don't give a damn about no stinkin' chart. I hate all the fat clothes, too, but because I'm so tall, I'll never be able to shop in normie stores. Your doctor didn't need to add insult to injury. I'll call the bastard for you and give him a piece of my fat ass mind! I'm just horrified at professionals who fill and unfill themselves... I could faint thinking about it. Inamed has strong warnings about doing your own fills. And somebody PLEASE explain why the crap goes right down the hatch? Yesterday I decided to add an afternoon piece of fruit. I forced 1/4 apple past the lump in my throat, but then tossed it in the trash. But I could slide an entire pound of candy down into my bellyhouse with no problem. Ice cream is a breeze, chips are lovely, and Cheetohs are comforting. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I bet everyone in Heaven is fat. I had a very traumatic childhood - one that will never go away. My mother is mentally ill and should never have had children. I never got to be a little girl - I moved out at 15 and have been supporting myself since. I made horrible choices and worse mistakes, and life didn't get any easier. By the time I was 25 I just wanted to die... but then one day, things really fell to pieces. My friend died in a flood, my apartment roof caved in on me, I had no friends, I was sick with anxiety disorder, I lost my job, blah blah blah. At that very moment I looked up into the sky and wanted to scream at God, but instead I just started laughing. I told him, "go ahead, bring it on!" I think God has a really dry sense of humor, because I've been laughing ever since. I think we're supposed to laugh a lot more than we do, so every time I get mad, I just figure it's God playing another rotten prank on me. But I'll get even when I get to Heaven and throw a Coconut Cream pie in his face. He'll laugh, I just know he will. Now you guys see why I'm always laughing?

Maybe mushies were easier since we didn't have so many darn choices. It's so easy to fall back into old habits after the initial shock of the surgery wears off. Still designing my "Brain Band." Even if the doc here would agree to put a new port in, I'd still kidnap Penni and go to TJ (four time$ more money here.) I'm boo-hooing cuz I'm still not healed. I have a long road ahead of me before I see a new port.