Hey folks....it has been a while has it not? Trust me, the other blog is just as neglected. What, you didn't know there was another blog? Well, let me introduce you, Fat Lady readers (all 2 of you) this is Ventage. And speaking of the other blog...that's where I will be from now on. It's been fun and it's been grand. It just has been too much of a challenge to even keep one blog going. Most of my weight loss surgery journey has been duplicated on that blog any way...So, sniff. This is goodbye.
Love you, mean it.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Dana R. Moya
Born: December 10th, 2008 at 9:13 am
Weight: 155 lbs 3 oz
Lots of inches
Now go have a cigar!
Born: December 10th, 2008 at 9:13 am
Weight: 155 lbs 3 oz
Lots of inches
Now go have a cigar!
Today is the 9 Month Anniversary of My Weight Loss Surgery!
Not sure all that needed to be capitalized, but hey, it's a major event to celebrate so why not...
To this day I've lost 155 lbs and I now weigh 160 lbs. I'm almost half 'n half! I am now wearing a size 8 or 10 depending on the brand. Hard to believe, a single digit size fits me.
And just like the pregnancy and birth of a child, the advent of my surgery has wrought many changes in my life. There has been much joy, there has been much loss, there are some sleepless nights and worries that plague me - some founded, others unfounded. There has been stretching. Weeping. Laughing. Kicking. Surprises. Sickness. Moodiness. Hello's & goodbyes. And all along these 9 months were the birth pangs of labor ushering in this new life. And there is so much more life now to live...
Want to see the pictures? Okay, okay, I'll be quiet now...
Same old fuzzy picture in the kitchen side view...Add in one Sunny dog eating breakfast.
Oh Christmas Tree.
Love this next one. Look at me hiding way in the back, arms crossed, leg kicked out...These gorgeous ladies were decorating the Education Suite tree. Rather, they were supervising the decoration of the tree. Apparently Rae was not happy with the placement of an ornament...
Oh yeah?
OH YEAH? Love the deathly pale look.Okay...
Last out of focus, poorly lit, badly posed one for the day...
They say it takes a tribe to raise a child, I believe the same goes for every journey in our life. I say it takes a tribe to get us through, and oh how I love my tribe! You have cheered me on so! Keep taking the steps with me, big or small we can't journey it alone.
Monday, September 29, 2008
On Being 12
A size 12! Thank you very much.
Well, I promised a weight-loss update so, true to my word, here you go my adoring fans. I must insert the usual "be forewarned" disclaimer that I've merely got a camera phone and my photographer is usually my daughter who forgets to tell me "when". So, with that said, some of the pictures are less than good. Dude, what can I say? I'm no Stan Kwan.
Just to refresh your memory let's begin with where else? Uh, the beginning, duh.
A 315 lb me Nov. 2007
That bears repeating, 315 lbs!
Then...
1 month after surgery.
Then....
3 months after surgery.
And now for the latest photos...
Me...almost 7 months post-surgery. 133 lbs lighter and a size 12.
Shut up! A size 12...Can I just tell you I giggled when I tried these pants on?
I just did.
Me. Again....oh yeah, it is my update.
What's with the funky face?
(That would be the NO warning I referred to earlier.)
Alas me lovies, that's all the blurry, poorly lit, horribly posed, same old kitchen for a background photos I have. For now.
Where from here? Not sure. If the weight loss gods* have forsaken me and left me for greener pastures, then I am just hunky-dory with that. I consider this weight loss surgery journey a success so far.
Considering that I've gone from 2 diabetes injections, 2 to 4 blood sugar finger tests, 2 blood pressure meds, a handful of pain meds A DAY to none of the above a day. I've gone from a size 26/28 to a size 12. From 315 lbs. to 182 lbs. From 165 pounds to goal, to 33 pounds to goal. I've gone from not being able to sit in a chair comfortably (without my hips hanging out the sides and over the edge) to...well...it's still not comfortable but it's now because I have very little cushion between my tail-bone and the chair...I've gone from wanting to sleep all the time to, oh wait, ha, that's still true. From not being active with my family to being active....Any way, you get the picture. If not, scroll up and start over.
So, that's it for now. I will update again at 9 months. The same amount of time of a full term pregnancy. Except by then it will be as if I've given birth to a full grown man.
*(please do not take offense. I am a Jesus loving, scripture believing, Holy Spirit filled girl...I would never be so silly as to truly think that the weight loss gods have forsaken me...so there.)
Well, I promised a weight-loss update so, true to my word, here you go my adoring fans. I must insert the usual "be forewarned" disclaimer that I've merely got a camera phone and my photographer is usually my daughter who forgets to tell me "when". So, with that said, some of the pictures are less than good. Dude, what can I say? I'm no Stan Kwan.
Just to refresh your memory let's begin with where else? Uh, the beginning, duh.
A 315 lb me Nov. 2007
That bears repeating, 315 lbs!Then...
1 month after surgery.Then....
3 months after surgery.And now for the latest photos...
Me...almost 7 months post-surgery. 133 lbs lighter and a size 12.
Shut up! A size 12...Can I just tell you I giggled when I tried these pants on?I just did.
Me. Again....oh yeah, it is my update.What's with the funky face?
(That would be the NO warning I referred to earlier.)
Alas me lovies, that's all the blurry, poorly lit, horribly posed, same old kitchen for a background photos I have. For now.
Where from here? Not sure. If the weight loss gods* have forsaken me and left me for greener pastures, then I am just hunky-dory with that. I consider this weight loss surgery journey a success so far.
Considering that I've gone from 2 diabetes injections, 2 to 4 blood sugar finger tests, 2 blood pressure meds, a handful of pain meds A DAY to none of the above a day. I've gone from a size 26/28 to a size 12. From 315 lbs. to 182 lbs. From 165 pounds to goal, to 33 pounds to goal. I've gone from not being able to sit in a chair comfortably (without my hips hanging out the sides and over the edge) to...well...it's still not comfortable but it's now because I have very little cushion between my tail-bone and the chair...I've gone from wanting to sleep all the time to, oh wait, ha, that's still true. From not being active with my family to being active....Any way, you get the picture. If not, scroll up and start over.
So, that's it for now. I will update again at 9 months. The same amount of time of a full term pregnancy. Except by then it will be as if I've given birth to a full grown man.
*(please do not take offense. I am a Jesus loving, scripture believing, Holy Spirit filled girl...I would never be so silly as to truly think that the weight loss gods have forsaken me...so there.)
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Support
More than just a good bra or a pair of Spanx. Support is in those who surround you, those who cheer you when you stand firm, who understand when you fall short and somehow carry you forward against the crushing rush of the tide.
Support is an assorted collection of family, friends and even, sometimes, absolute strangers. Strangers they may be, yet because they've walked in your shoes and you in theirs quite enough in life, these unfamiliar faces ring of familiarity.
Because in them you witness your hard-fought tears slip from their eyes, you hear your selfsame struggles in their voices and recognize the demons they have seen as the very same that have haunted you for years. The scars they bear - some old and barely visible, others fresh and still on the mend - are identical to yours for you have been warriors fighting a parallel battle. Synonymous lives.
I only remember a few of their names but I remember every single face. I remember them because we've come together gathered around a common purpose and have rallied for the same cause. I remember each one, because together we are strengthened by each admission of weakness; we take away a measure of courage in the fact that these weaknesses are normal and only temporary. I remember each face because I look around and I see victory in their expressions. I remember because I hear the triumphs declared in each of the voices. I remember the courage and determination of my circle who, against odds decided long ago, have clawed our way out of the dark prison cells of our own making and in to the light of freedom.
And freedom is a marvelous thing.
Support is an assorted collection of family, friends and even, sometimes, absolute strangers. Strangers they may be, yet because they've walked in your shoes and you in theirs quite enough in life, these unfamiliar faces ring of familiarity.
Because in them you witness your hard-fought tears slip from their eyes, you hear your selfsame struggles in their voices and recognize the demons they have seen as the very same that have haunted you for years. The scars they bear - some old and barely visible, others fresh and still on the mend - are identical to yours for you have been warriors fighting a parallel battle. Synonymous lives.
I only remember a few of their names but I remember every single face. I remember them because we've come together gathered around a common purpose and have rallied for the same cause. I remember each one, because together we are strengthened by each admission of weakness; we take away a measure of courage in the fact that these weaknesses are normal and only temporary. I remember each face because I look around and I see victory in their expressions. I remember because I hear the triumphs declared in each of the voices. I remember the courage and determination of my circle who, against odds decided long ago, have clawed our way out of the dark prison cells of our own making and in to the light of freedom.
And freedom is a marvelous thing.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Reality Bites
The truth is a tough pill to swallow.
Adages that are true but ever so corny in view of the blog you are reading. But still.
I don't have much to add or say to anything I've written before. Still doing okay. Yes, just okay. I am eating right, exercising and so on. And that is good.
I've reached my 100 pound goal and while that is a huge (pun intended) loss I don't feel as elated as I thought I would. And again, while the thought of the huge loss is circling my mind, there is the thought that immediately follows. Like a remora fish on a shark.
The shark being "Wow! You've lost 100 pounds!"
The remora "Now what?"
There are no easy answers or cures for what ails me. No hair of the dog that bit me. I am on a journey I tell myself. Always. And the woods, they call to me...
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Robert Frost
Adages that are true but ever so corny in view of the blog you are reading. But still.
I don't have much to add or say to anything I've written before. Still doing okay. Yes, just okay. I am eating right, exercising and so on. And that is good.
I've reached my 100 pound goal and while that is a huge (pun intended) loss I don't feel as elated as I thought I would. And again, while the thought of the huge loss is circling my mind, there is the thought that immediately follows. Like a remora fish on a shark.
The shark being "Wow! You've lost 100 pounds!"
The remora "Now what?"
There are no easy answers or cures for what ails me. No hair of the dog that bit me. I am on a journey I tell myself. Always. And the woods, they call to me...
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Robert Frost
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Lost and Found
FOUND:
Recently I've noticed some things that have been long forgotten. Things like knuckles showing on my hand and wrist bones. Things like ankle bones and tendons. Cheekbones and collarbones. Shoulders and elbows and hip bones.
Welcome back guys, I've missed you!
LOST:
Went to visit some family and my great-niece runs up to greet me and after the hug she pats my stomach and says "Where is your baby? You had your baby?"
That....was.... awesome!
Recently I've noticed some things that have been long forgotten. Things like knuckles showing on my hand and wrist bones. Things like ankle bones and tendons. Cheekbones and collarbones. Shoulders and elbows and hip bones.
Welcome back guys, I've missed you!
LOST:
Went to visit some family and my great-niece runs up to greet me and after the hug she pats my stomach and says "Where is your baby? You had your baby?"
That....was.... awesome!
Monday, June 9, 2008
Fearfully and Wonderfully Made...
As a friend of mine says "more fearfully than wonderfully!"
And I have to agree. This past month I haven't written much on here. To tell the truth there's not been much to say that you haven't already heard or read.
Because I'm sure that eventually you will get tired of reading: I lost a pound. I didn't lose weight for ___ long. My clothes don't fit. I ate that. I can't eat this. I lost another pound.
So, I think I will hold off until the weight loss surgery muse strikes. Which may be never. I wonder what her name is? We could have fun with that.
For now I will give you this. God, our God. Yahweh Himself. Has one heck of a sense of humor.
I'm probably not informing any of my adoring fans of anything that they didn't already have a clue about.
You know He's so crazy because well, look at giraffes and zebras together on the same playing field. Think about kangaroos and toucans. Odd aren't they? Then there's everyone's trump card when arguing about Mr. Stand Up Comedian in the Sky, the platypus. Don't tell me they were left over parts. He don't need no stinkin' leftovers. Nope, I think Jehovah Laughter was feeling a tad bit silly one morning during the creation process and threw that one in as His own inside joke with the angels.
And then there's us. Enough said right?
And he loves showing off His humorous side. I remember once when I was going through a time where I could not drag my butt out of bed in order to spend time in the word and in prayer. I would hit the snooze until 10 minutes after I should be in the shower. And then whined about it.
I was feeling the effects of not talking with Him and listening to Him. So I begged Him one night to not let me touch that stupid snooze button and make me get out of bed. You know what He did?
Well, He happily obliged of course. In His way. The next morning the alarm went off and Mrs. Stick to Your Guns rolled over to slap that clock silly and I kid you not I rolled right out of that bed and on to the floor.
I laid there for a bit till it hit me that He'd answered that prayer quite nicely. And then I laughed. Pointed my finger at Him and said, You got me didn't you!?!? He's so crazy!
Then there's my recent struggle with the scale. I'm losing, I'm losing - it isn't that kind of struggle. It's the obsessive kind. The kind where I weigh myself every day. And not only that I cannot wait to weigh every day. And every day when the scale moves all of a pound I am thrilled to no end. And every day when the scale stays put, I am woeful beyond sense. Which is crazy.
All this in spite of the fact that I know I should not weigh every day. As women our weight can fluctuate several pounds from day to day. Especially well, you know when.
So what am I doing hopping myself up on that happy-o-meter every day? I. Don't. Know. I thought I had gotten past the part where I found my joy in numbers. But yeah. There I am. Every day. And here I am confessing.
I've told other friends as well. They've chastened me properly. I go home tail between my legs swearing I am going to wait THREE WHOLE DAYS before I step on the sardonic little thing again.
Riiiiiiight.
So, God in His wonderful wisdom has broken my scale.
Broken it. Has to be what has happened because folks this is a brand new state of the art digital scale. Brand new.
What happens when I step on it? Oh, lets see...a range of as much as 30 pounds difference each and every time I get on to weigh.
And this is only for me.
No one else. The danged thing works JUST FINE.
It's. Just. Me. I get on and I weigh 245. Get off. No way that's right. I mean I weigh somewhere around 220. Get on and I weigh 212. Get off. That would be nice but no. Get on 228. Get off. Get on 236. Cuss words. Seriously?
"Jesse?! Will you come weigh yourself?!?!?" Gets on. Number is correct give or take a pound.
"Again!" I tell him. He gets on, it's the same. Exactly the same.
I get on 200. Waaaaahhhhh....
Then it hits me. And while it wasn't so funny at first, I can now see the amusement in it. He has fixed my little problem. He knows I don't like any other scale. I won't know the progress if I weigh at work or at the doctors.
He knows I've been finding joy in the wrong places. Looking for happiness in the wrong direction. Seeking consolation and comfort where there is none. He knows I have no strength apart from Him. And He knows just how to take care of everything. Including my scale.
I am fearfully and wonderfully made. He has made me beautiful. He has made my heart to sing. He has brought me from the wilderness. He. Him. Not the numbers. Not my weight loss. Him.
And that stinking scale - for sure - didn't do any of this.
And that makes me laugh out loud. That was a good one God. You got me on that one!
And I have to agree. This past month I haven't written much on here. To tell the truth there's not been much to say that you haven't already heard or read.
Because I'm sure that eventually you will get tired of reading: I lost a pound. I didn't lose weight for ___ long. My clothes don't fit. I ate that. I can't eat this. I lost another pound.
So, I think I will hold off until the weight loss surgery muse strikes. Which may be never. I wonder what her name is? We could have fun with that.
For now I will give you this. God, our God. Yahweh Himself. Has one heck of a sense of humor.
I'm probably not informing any of my adoring fans of anything that they didn't already have a clue about.
You know He's so crazy because well, look at giraffes and zebras together on the same playing field. Think about kangaroos and toucans. Odd aren't they? Then there's everyone's trump card when arguing about Mr. Stand Up Comedian in the Sky, the platypus. Don't tell me they were left over parts. He don't need no stinkin' leftovers. Nope, I think Jehovah Laughter was feeling a tad bit silly one morning during the creation process and threw that one in as His own inside joke with the angels.
And then there's us. Enough said right?
And he loves showing off His humorous side. I remember once when I was going through a time where I could not drag my butt out of bed in order to spend time in the word and in prayer. I would hit the snooze until 10 minutes after I should be in the shower. And then whined about it.
I was feeling the effects of not talking with Him and listening to Him. So I begged Him one night to not let me touch that stupid snooze button and make me get out of bed. You know what He did?
Well, He happily obliged of course. In His way. The next morning the alarm went off and Mrs. Stick to Your Guns rolled over to slap that clock silly and I kid you not I rolled right out of that bed and on to the floor.
I laid there for a bit till it hit me that He'd answered that prayer quite nicely. And then I laughed. Pointed my finger at Him and said, You got me didn't you!?!? He's so crazy!
Then there's my recent struggle with the scale. I'm losing, I'm losing - it isn't that kind of struggle. It's the obsessive kind. The kind where I weigh myself every day. And not only that I cannot wait to weigh every day. And every day when the scale moves all of a pound I am thrilled to no end. And every day when the scale stays put, I am woeful beyond sense. Which is crazy.
All this in spite of the fact that I know I should not weigh every day. As women our weight can fluctuate several pounds from day to day. Especially well, you know when.
So what am I doing hopping myself up on that happy-o-meter every day? I. Don't. Know. I thought I had gotten past the part where I found my joy in numbers. But yeah. There I am. Every day. And here I am confessing.
I've told other friends as well. They've chastened me properly. I go home tail between my legs swearing I am going to wait THREE WHOLE DAYS before I step on the sardonic little thing again.
Riiiiiiight.
So, God in His wonderful wisdom has broken my scale.
Broken it. Has to be what has happened because folks this is a brand new state of the art digital scale. Brand new.
What happens when I step on it? Oh, lets see...a range of as much as 30 pounds difference each and every time I get on to weigh.
And this is only for me.
No one else. The danged thing works JUST FINE.
It's. Just. Me. I get on and I weigh 245. Get off. No way that's right. I mean I weigh somewhere around 220. Get on and I weigh 212. Get off. That would be nice but no. Get on 228. Get off. Get on 236. Cuss words. Seriously?
"Jesse?! Will you come weigh yourself?!?!?" Gets on. Number is correct give or take a pound.
"Again!" I tell him. He gets on, it's the same. Exactly the same.
I get on 200. Waaaaahhhhh....
Then it hits me. And while it wasn't so funny at first, I can now see the amusement in it. He has fixed my little problem. He knows I don't like any other scale. I won't know the progress if I weigh at work or at the doctors.
He knows I've been finding joy in the wrong places. Looking for happiness in the wrong direction. Seeking consolation and comfort where there is none. He knows I have no strength apart from Him. And He knows just how to take care of everything. Including my scale.
I am fearfully and wonderfully made. He has made me beautiful. He has made my heart to sing. He has brought me from the wilderness. He. Him. Not the numbers. Not my weight loss. Him.
And that stinking scale - for sure - didn't do any of this.
And that makes me laugh out loud. That was a good one God. You got me on that one!
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