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Big Gramma

Big Gramma

 

I am fat. My body mass index (BMI) is 42 which qualifies me as morbidly obese. Not just fat, mind you, but obese. MORBIDLY obese. I am also no longer young, and older people have a more difficult time losing weight due to changes in metabolism and the way calories are burned.

But I have grandsons, and I have a plan. I want to be able to play with those kids, to walk around the park, and keep up with them. I don’t want them to think of me as fat. So, I have this nifty little app on my smartphone (remind me to talk about smartphones in the future) which helps me keep track of my calories and my exersize.

I have tried to concentrate on those (yuk) healthy green foods, and limit my processed foods and what I call the bad carbohydrates. I don’t eat a lot of bread, and pasta is not really on my preferred list. Those (and the apple fritters) are very processed and almost pure carbohydrates, and are on my naughty list. Red beans and potatoes are moderately okay simply because they come that way without any further modifications.

I hit the gym every morning after I work, but I only do about 15 minutes on the stationary bike or the elliptical. I just can’t do any more, and I almost feel guilty. Almost, but not quite, because it is still 15 minutes more than I did last month.

Night shift workers have a greater tendency to have diabetes and be morbidly obese. Those who have a prominent belly are at risk for metabolic syndrome. I realize this risk, this risk for debilitating illnesses, and I choose to do something about it. No — I can’t change to day shift. But my co-workers and I are meeting at the local gym and using the treadmills, ellipticals, bikes and the weight lifting machines. I am sore. I can barely make it up the stairs. My arms and shoulders hurt. But I will meet my friends at the gym and do it again. I would rather just sit down and knit my mitts, but I know this is best.

This will be yet another adventure worth writing about, don’t you think?

 


 

Updated March 2018 — I wrote the above four years ago, January 2014.  I still have a BMI of just over 40.  I did get it down below 40 long enough to have one hip replaced, and I have to get it back down so I can get my other hip replaced.  I’ve changed a few things since then, and my greatest success is when I follow the Trim Healthy Mama plan.  But I still have grandsons, and I still have a plan.

 

http://georgielee.blogspot.com/2013/06/vintage-ads-for-dad-to-amuse-and-horrify.html

 

Skinny Gramma Nettie

My scale must have lied to me.  For a week.  I didn’t feel any different, but I keep almost daily track of my weight.  I know some women are obsessed in an unhealthy way, and weigh once a month.  When I did that myself, I found I felt great but I had gained back everything I’d lost and took two months to get back to the new starting point.  When I weigh almost daily, I can easily relate any weight gain with eating habits, like this bag of potato chips I really want to finish off.

So far, I’ve been busy blogging, not munching.

But my weight it’s Now thirty pounds off.  That’s more than a sack of potatoes.  That’s a one-year-old child.  I’ve decided that my weight loss is best described by a term I’ll steal from evolutionary biology – Punctuated Equilibrium.  Things are all the same for two or three months then BAM!, five pounds gone.  Everything is once again the same for four months then SHAZAM!, ten pounds gone.

This Trim Healthy Gramma wants new clothes for every five pounds gone.  I am overdue for six items of clothing.

The disappearing Gramma!  Started January, 7 months mostly on plan, 31 weeks.  Just about a pound per week.

 

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Bionic Gramma Nettie

​I have an important announcement.  My family already knows this.  I have been scheduled for a hip replacement August 15th.  I am ready for this.  So so ready.  Those who know me see how I walk funny.  I’ve been fighting this for about two years and it just got much worse in the last six months despite everything. 

 The surgeon said I don’t have much mileage left on it.  I had to stop walking extra, stopped the elliptical.  Now that the date is less than a month out, I’ve doubled up on those exercises, doing two sets each.  I can feel the muscles work.  Doing this allows me to continue working.  It is like duct tape and glue keeping the pelvis and hip working together somewhat.  The exercises also are to get muscles moving that have not moved properly in years, preparing for the rehab I’ll have to do later.

At first I suspected something in the Trim Healthy Mama eating plan caused the exacerbation and worsening of the arthritis.  I thought this because it seemed to get worse beginning about the same time I started THM in January.  Every pound I lost should have made the joint move better, but instead it seemed to have an atypical response, the pain got worse.  

I posted on the THM page a question about this, if anybody else had a similar cause and effect.  Before I got an answer, my post was removed for being inappropriate.  Again I posted asking for response.  They have such a huge data base that SOME one else had to have an answer for me.  As before, my post was removed for the same reason.  I was asking questions, not blaming.  Shutting down my post that quickly gave me NO answer, instead it made me think the founders have something to hide.  I think we need to know the rosy goodness that is THM, but also the not so good things too.  This program probably had side effects, and it behooves the mama to know them before starting out.  In the medical field it is known as “informed consent.”

Again, I wasn’t blaming Trim Healthy Mama.  One admin was more helpful and directed me to the THM allergy group.  Here I leaned that dairy may cause increased inflammation and pain, and I learned how to start an elimination diet to find out if I am similarly affected.

I did some research in medical journals and found that osteoarthritis (OA) can lumber along quietly for years and decades.  Then, suddenly, it explodes and you are debilitated within a matter of months or weeks.  Mine started the explosion about the same time I started THM.  A coincidence of the greatest order.

So, what to do now?  Now, I have to have a new hip joint.  I ordered one from Amazon, and it will be installed August 15th.  Yes, I have hip replacement surgery, and I should be out of work for about two months.  Ooh, don’t get me wrong!  I will have my (rehab) work cut out for me, but it will mean I will go back to work, and whup arse!  I’ll have to get over the idea of needing help.  I’m a tough, independent old bird … And my kids are the first to agree with me.  Gramma Nettie becomes bionical.

 
 

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Gramma Nettie goes Camping

Due to an unfortunate turn of events, Gramma Nettie will go camping the way I used to.  What is that phrase in vogue now-a-days?  Oh, yes.  Old Gangsta style.  With a tent.

I used to have a camper on the back of our Ford F150.  We had to use a three-step ladder to climb in, moving it out of the way to close the door.  This was tricky, had to make sure not to topple over out the door.  Once inside, I could cook up a small meal for the two of us, BadBird slept in the overhead while I slept on the pull-out bed.  As big as I am, it was actually quite comfortable.  Then we sold it.

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We sold it to make the downpayment for an old boat.  Not just any old boat, mind you, but more of a yacht.  It is HUGE, a Cuddy Cabin cruiser!  Our three-step ladder is no longer appropriate to get into the boat when it is on the trailer.  No, we had to get a long LONG step ladder and I still struggled to get in.  It is great once it is on the water, but we haven’t seen the water but twice since we bought it in August of last year.  It just is not that simple to drag it around, it takes a long time to get it into the water.  I really enjoy the speed, the views, the wind in my hair.  I enjoy going below decks to try to use the alcohol stove to heat up some soup or coffee and tea.  There is a bathroom next to the galley, but I certainly don’t want to add the time and trouble to clean it out.  The logistics of getting the dogs out of the boat (did I mention they are skittish with anything new?) is terrible.  Imagine, two scared dogs weighing about 60# each who need to go pee.  Put out the anchor, and hope it sticks.  Pull out the inflatable raft, throw the dogs into it and hope they don’t ruin it with their nails.  row out to the shore, put the dogs out (on a leash) then reverse that process. 

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Instead of doing that for our reunion, we are going to go camping in a tent.  BadBird bought two elevated full-size inflatable mattresses.  We set up the tent in the back yard, blew up one mattress, and I gingerly laid down upon it.  It actually wasn’t that bad, at least for the short time I was on it.  I had the chance to sleep overnight in my own yard, but I declined.  I’ll do it when I have to, but I can’t see as I’ll enjoy it. 

My daughter has a tent-camper she and her husband use for their three boys.  They will reserve a spot at an RV resort, one with pools and play areas for the kids.  We are going to set up shop on the grass right next to them, and pay a little extra.  We camp for three days, have the reunion on Saturday, then head back home.

Go tent camping, he says.  It’ll be fun, he says.  I hope my gimpy hip will allow me to agree.

 
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Posted by on 10 June 2016 in camping, family, fat, frustration

 

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Gramma Nettie’s New Clothes

I bought new clothes.

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This statement is so odd when you understand what a tight wad I am.  This is the first time in many years – and many pounds – that I purchased clothing that wasn’t from goodwill.  I am proud of my thrift, but being a cheapskate fat girl just doesn’t work.  You see, girls start out skinny, then gain weight as time goes on.  They give away the skinny clothes for more and more Xs in the label.  More girls need the fat lady stuff.  The laws of supply and demand kick in, with very diminished supply for my rotund demands.

I finally decided that I failed to lose weight, but that doesn’t mean I’m a failure.  I may be fat, morbidly obese, but I can still dress classy.  It just won’t happen on second hand things, I’m afraid.

Do, I did what any girl does … I went shopping.
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Posted by on 18 January 2015 in clothes, fat, feelings, obesity