Time Flies...

I can't believe it's been so long since my last post.

I have been checking in and reading up, but not really in the blogging mindset.

I started to find that the more I thought and wrote about TTC, the more obsessed I became and that then turned into a vicious downward spiral of doom.

Needless to say, we're not really any further on with our journey, but we do go back and see the specialist early in the new year (in 8 days, in fact).

If anyone can help me lose 2 stone in just over a week, that would be great...

In the meantime, have a lovely New Year, and here's hoping 2013 brings lots of lovely adventures for everyone.

I'll be back soon, I'm sure... !!

Super quick

I know its been an age since I posted. I was getting good, too!

I sort of got myself into a bit of a funk, so I've been hibernating a bit.

The weight isn't coming off in quite the way I'd hoped, but the exercise is meaning that my shape is changing. When my trainer measured me a week ago, I had lost a total of 19 centimeters - 12 of those from around my waist, which is both awesome and very encouraging.

Frustratingly, the way my clothes fit isn't what the Dr is looking at...

I'm back for a re-do of my hsg in a week - they refused to do it at my last appointment, but that's a whole new post - and its only 9 week to my follow up. I'm not hopeful.

Anyway, out with Mr B this evening for dinner, so must go beautify!

Jumping to conclusions...

Aren't the conclusions that people jump to just amazing?

I went out with a group of friends from work on Friday night. The two lovely ladies in the pic with me are both aware that Mr B and I are TTC and the efforts that are going into it. Most of them are aware that I'm on some sort of mission to lose weight, but they don't necessarily no why.

Anyway, when we decided to go out, I told the girls that I wouldn't be drinking as, for me, it just seems like "wasted" calories for me - especially as I'm more that capable of having a good time without the booze.

I'm not really a big drinker, but I do tend to have a few on a work night out, so I wasn't all that surprised when my request for a diet coke / lime and soda / orange and lemonade raised a few eyebrows, but when questioned why I wasn't drinking I just said that I didn't really feel like it.

A bit later in the evening, I had a bit of what I can only describe as ovary ache - I assume that it was a by-product of the violation I'd experienced earlier in the day - so I was sitting down. One of the guys came and sat on my lap and one of the girls saw that that really wasn't a good thing for me so she pulled as I pushed him off and told it that my stomach couldn't handle it.

He fell into the seat next to me, went wide eyed, gasped and pointed at me.

He looked from me, to my friend and back, all wide eyed wonder, gasping away.

"What? What's wrong with you?" I said.

He smiled, nodded, winked and said, "I get it!"

"Er, get what?" I said. "Oh! Oh God no! You're jumping to all the wrong conclusions, and you couldn't be more wrong!"

"Shut up! You're not drinking, you're stomach is bad...I get it!!"

I tried convincing him.

I'm not sure it worked....

Testing Testing!

Yesterday I had the first of my two appointments as requested by the gyne consultant - a transabdominal and transvaginal ultra sound.

Basically, I was violated by a sonographer with a giant wand and half a tube of KY Jelly!!

But, the good news is that my ovaries and uterus are cyst and fibroid free.

Bad news was that there was no sneaky baby hiding in there.

I feel weirdly uncomfortable today - almost like I'm bruised inside?

Got the HSG on Monday. Finger's crossed!

Personal Trainer - Tuesday 17th July

After my week of realisation, panic and feeling the pressure about the task ahead of me, I looked into a few more drastic measures to help me along my weightloss way.
I spent a bit of time researching LighterLife and the Cambridge Diet.

I knew they weren't sensible diets or a long term thing, but I thought that maybe for a quick fix and to ease the pressure I'd be able to do it.

After looking at them in a bit more detail I realised that no, I wouldn't be able to do it. And, more importantly, I didn't want to.

Getting all my energy and nutrients without actually chewing food just doesn't sit right with me. I wouldn't have teeth if it was ok not to chew...

So, I started toying with the idea of getting a personal trainer. I figured that an hour a week would not only be better for me than one of those diets, but it'd be cheaper too. And what harm would it do?!

I asked one of the girls at work whether she knew anyone (she's a fitness instructor, too) and she told me about her recently qualified friend, Louise.

Not only is she recently qualified, she's recently lost nearly SEVEN STONE!

One of the BEFORE and AFTER photos from her Facebook page

We chatted on the Friday night, and I liked her over the phone, but she rightly pointed out that we should meet in person to check we were both happy working together.

She came round on Tuesday for a consultation, which was basically talking about what I wanted to achieve, why and when by. We talked about my diet (I'm eating too much FRUIT!! Who'da thunk it!), and my current exercise regime.

She actually made me feel like it's possible for me to hit my 3 stone target in time for the hospital appointment in October.

I like that she not only knows what she's talking about, she's been there, too. She's not just some skinny minny who likes to exercise - she's worked bloody hard to get where she is and looks great for it.

Our first session is tonight. I can't wait!

Fat, not Deaf. Saturday 14th July

***Warning: There are swear words in this post. And a vile little woman that may make you mad. Oh, and it's a bit I said / she said, but you'll see why***

Still a bit pissed off from my visit to the Doctors on Friday, Mr B suggested that we have a Date Night on Saturday. We decided we'd head into town at about 4, do a quick bit of shopping and then go for food and the cinema.

It should be said that I HATE shopping in town on a Saturday, and it was only the fact that we were going later in the day, and the promise of food and the flicks, that persuaded me to go.

Whilst Mr B went into one shop, I decided to pop into New Look as they had a sale and I need some shoes for the million weddings I'm going to this September.

I had a quick mooch round, couldn't find anything, so decided to leave. I was walking down the main aisle of the shop and there was a girl sat on some seats to the right of me, trying on shoes. In front of her were all of her shopping bags. In front of the shopping bags was her mother. Behind her mother was a manequin, or some other tat that the shop had decided to look good.

"Excuse me", I said to the woman, who shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

Assuming that she either hadn't heard me or hadn't realised I was talking to her I said, "Sorry, excuse me", at which point she shuffled forward a tiny bit.

I realised that actually, she had heard me, both times. She was just rude. So I walked past her and, because there was no room, bumped into her, which made her sigh and tut.

"I did say excuse me," I said apologetically.

"Well it's not my fault where they put the chairs", she snapped.

"No, it's not, but you could have moved to the side" I said, pointing to the massive space either side of her shopping bags.

"I did move", she replied.

"You shuffled half a centimetre forward, which wasn't really helpful!"

"I don't want my daughter* to get trampled", she said.

"Your daughter isn't going to get trampled", I said, "Don't be so ridiculous". And with a roll of my eyes and a shake of my head, I turned and walked away.

When I was a good 4 or 5 paces away, I heard "I'm surprised you know what half a centimetre is, given the size of you".

For a split second, I considered being the better person and walking away. But that's not really me.

As I stormed back to her, I wasn't sure what I was going to do - hit her, push her over, or just shout at her.

I went with the latter.

"Excuse me! Were you actually just rude enough to make a comment about my size!?"

She looked at me and said "No, I was talking about Jessica's shoes, actually." And gave me a look that said I know what I said, you know what I said, but I'm not going to admit it, and what are you going to do?

"Don't fucking lie!" I said

At this point, Jessica says, "She was, actually", with so little conviction it was laughable.

I turned back to her mother and said "You're a vile little woman. And you can be assured that I am half. A. Centimetre away from punching you in the face! You are so FUCKING rude!"

I turned, and marched out of the shop because I was so angry I actually didn't know what I was going to do. Mr B was outside of the shop waiting for me, but by the time I got to him I was so angry I actually couldn't speak. I told him we needed to go before I went back in their and "punched her in the fucking head" and stormed off through the shopping centre.

It took me a good 5 minutes to calm down enough to be able to tell him what had happened.

Not only was I angry about what she'd actually said, I was angry that she'd said it behind my back and didn't even admit it when I confronted her.

I was angry that she thought that because I was fat, I was also deaf. And stupid enough to believe that she was talking about the shoes.

Angry that she thought she had any right to say something like that to anyone

And angry that I didn't hit her. That would've been much more satisfying.

Had she been some Amazonian MILF, I may well have thought "fair play, she's hot". In fact, I had to LOOK DOWN AT HER to look her in the eye. Me, at 5ft 4, was looking down at this vile little hobbit woman.

I ended up crying at dinner about the whole incident.

It's the first time I've experienced such a horrible person. Don't get me wrong, I was bullied while I was growing up, and I dealt with them in much the same way I dealt with this woman - I was never one to shy away from name calling, and often someone did it once and never again.

But I've never experienced it as an adult. From another adult. Who was definitely old enough to know better. I still can't believe anyone could be so mean and nasty. She doesn't know me. She doesn't know anything about me or my situation.

And even if she did, it wouldn't make it right.

Vile little woman.

*Valid come back, if your daughter is tiny and 4. Her daughter was at least 17 and trying on hooker heels. No one was going to miss her.

Doctors - 13.07.12

After I chased the doctors about my referrals, I had a phone call from the receptionist.

"The doctor would like to see you about the letter she's received from the gyneacologist - can you make an appointment to come in?".

Part of me knew it was going to be a pointless appointment. I thought that she'd want to confirm that she'd sent the referral off to the dietician and see how I was feeling generally about going to the hospital.

I was partly right - it was pointless.

I was wrong to assume that she would've done ANYTHING about the referral.

It started off badly when, as I sat down, she said "So, what can I do for you today?".

I told her that I was there because I'd been told she wanted to see me about the letter she'd received.

So, she dutifully looked at the letter, muttered something about "dietician" and asked me where I wanted to go from here.

"Erm, well... the consultant said I'd be referred to a dietician...?"

"Yes," she said, "we could do that. Or you could have a 12 week referral to either Weight Watchers or Rosemary Conley. We could also look at Orlistat. And if none of that works, maybe we need to consider surgery".

To say I was confused by the direction the appointment was taking would be an understatement.
She proceeded to tell me that if I chose to see the dietician I would probably only see her once or twice.

I told her that I'd tried both Weight Watchers and Rosemary Conley before and had limited success, so maybe it would be worth me giving the dietician a try.

She asked me how losing weight was going, and when I told her it was something I've been trying to do for well, ever, she made a noise that suggested she didn't believe me.

I told her that I'd got an appointment with a personal trainer booked, and she looked at me as if she didn't believe me.

She then said "I think maybe you're complacent about dieting, and that's why you're not losing weight. I think you need to put some serious thought into weight loss surgery".

I asked if there was anything else she wanted to talk to me about, and she said no. I promptly left.

I was pretty fricking angry. So angry that I ended up crying.

WHY was weightloss surgery being offered so easily?

WHY was that my only option?

Surely it would be better - and cheaper - all round to offer me more support and guidance than an operation?

I'm now more determined than ever to do this myself - without medication OR surgery - so that I can stick two fingers up to the NHS and their "help".