TMI alert... alert... alert...

This is something I don't share with anyone. My SIL knows but mainly from observation rather than direct conversation. My husband knows - but he's lived with me for almost 9 years. I have no idea if my parents ever knew. Or if anyone else could tell from what I was wearing.

For those of you who have been morbidly obese, this will probably not shock you. For the rest... cover your eyes.

So, I have basically worn a pad everyday of my life since I was in university. My bladder leaked all day every day. I remember wondering why I was wet in high school, how I could get everything out, but there would always be that little bit left. My pants would be damp and of course there would be an odour. I don't think I did anything about it then. I was too embarrassed to even buy pads at the time.

I was so embarrassed, I never mentioned it to my doctors. I was so embarrassed, that I have never really confessed it to anyone.

Thinking back, I started wearing pads because while the constant leaking was not nice, it was the stress incontinence from laughing or movement that was really embarrassing. I like to play games and when I would play I would usually laugh. Then I would be wet. I would think about how my pants would be able to hide the evidence. Usually I would try to be last to leave the area so no one would be able to see my behind. (even writing this now, 15-20 years later, is difficult.)

With a pad, I was usually safe even if I was laughing. Safe that is, except if it (I still can't bring myself to use the "u" word) squished up my bum. But it usually wasn't too bad. So for literally decades, I have worn a pad every day. Some days would be better than others, but when I would try to go without, I would discover that nothing had changed.

I'm not sure what weight I was - maybe somewhere around the 205 mark - I went without a pad. I remember reading about some women being cured of their stress incontinence and wondered if I had been cured of mine.

I chose a day that I didn't have to work. Because there is so much jarring, I didn't have that much faith I would be cured. That day I stayed dry. It was amazing to me. Finally I wouldn't have to have all those chemicals by my private parts all the time. So, since then, I haven't worn a pad on non-work days.

But here is the juicy part! Today was the second day I didn't wear a pad during work! Some of you know I am a letter carrier. On my route I have about 5000 stairs. I don't do them all everyday, but I probably would do 3-4000. I go fairly fast down these stairs and all the pressure from my belly would just push "it" out.

Except now, for 2 whole work days, my bladder has withstood all those G-forces! Today was a real test too. I really had to go! There aren't any pit stops, so unless I can't do anything but ask to use someone's washroom, I hold it. I made it through. Now, there was a little dampness, but that was probably more from sweat than anything else. Today, as I walked down the feminine protection isle at the grocery store, I thought to myself, "I don't need you anymore! Except for my REGULAR monthly cycle." That is extra money in my grocery budget! Yaaaayyy!

I hope I haven't scared you all off. But you know, I need to document this kind of stuff too!

ps. Since we have been talking about my nether region... I have lost weight there too. And now when I open my legs, my "lips" open too. This must happen to all women of "normal" size. Doesn't that bother you? I've been so fat, that they always stayed closed. Now when ever I stretch my legs out - like to get out of the car - I get a new, interesting sensation. Do you know about this kind of thing?

stuff

Today was cray-Zee! My husband had a day long conference so I planned to go to the gym and then to my sil's for the afternoon. But by 9:35 this morning I was all out of sorts.

I really do it to myself. I stayed up way too late last night and then complained about getting up early this morning. Then getting 3 kids together with all their stuff in the van for the full day was quite an event. I tried to remember everything I needed. I did succeed in not forgetting anything.

I know I am running late, but I still need to get gas. The empty light has been on for quite a few kms. I head out to my regular station and all the pumps were turned off. Hmmm. Very odd. That's okay, I thought, I'll just go to the station by the gym. I got there and there wasn't a sign saying there was no gas today, so that was good. I pay at the pump and get started. The gas is not coming. All right. I'll try a different pump. As I pull the van around, I see the signs saying there is no gas today. I have no idea if my vehicle will even make it to the next station! I do make it to the petro canada just down the street. I'll have to forego the airmiles this time.

This is frustrating enough, but my children tell me they have to go pee. we are 5 mins from our house and in between gas stations when my son says the pee is starting to sneak out. I pull into a parking lot and make them pee in the snow. I get really annoyed because I figure that Alex is almost 4. He should be able to know his body and give at least some warning. But again, the rational me reminds myself that it is my fault because they sat in the van for about 15 mins before we even left the house as I was packing up. Screw rationality!

Finally, we made it to the gym. Everything was good. I leave the kids and head downstairs to sweat out my screams. As I am winding down, I see the lady from the front desk looking around. I catch her eye and she nods at me. I thought Karissa was freaking out (like last week.) No, this time it's Alex. Guess what he did? He peed his pants! Really!!! Can you believe it? He never pees his pants.

I had brought extra clothes for him because we were away from the house all day, but they were in the van. When I was talking with the day care worker, she said she had asked Alex if she could take him to the bathroom and he said no. Then, he proceeded to wet himself. I wasn't as mad as I had been earlier, but this did not help.

In the van, I have him change his clothes. He is in the process of getting his pants on and I notice that his new underwear are wet already. He is peeing his dry clothes as he is putting them on! He didn't even tell me that he needed to pee more! I send him to pee in the bush. Today, he went through all the clothes I had brought for him and we had to take a pair of pyjama pants from his cousin. Will this ever end?!?!?!

All of this to say that I am not that regulated. When something happens that I am not expecting, it can really throw me off my course. It's really something that I need to work on. After my surgery, getting really upset about things I cannot control will not be good for my health - both mental and physical. I need to find ways of dealing with changes in my plan that don't increase my stress. I also find once I have begun to wind up, it is really hard to let myself unwind. I get off on yelling and being angry and slamming doors.

Let's talk about surgery now. I haven't written much since I got back from Montreal. I was really worried about the assessments, but they seemed much more like a rubber stamp after they were over. And now, I have my date and I am planning for a life where I am much smaller and living such a more fulfilled life. I find myself saying "when I lose weight" and "as I get smaller" and just speaking with confidence that it will finally happen. I have never spoken with confidence about my weight going down. I have never really believed that I could do that with any finality. Now, it seems there is hope for me.

The research of the surgeon shows that his patients have lost 70 to 80% of their excess body weight after 5 years. For me, that's over 150 pounds! It is possible for me to weigh 150! I have never even dreamt that I could be smaller than 150. 150 is itself the number I pick when I choose a dream number. They way I talk about my weight after the surgery is to say, "I'd rather play in the 200's than the 300's." If I got down to 220, I would feel good. 200, would be great. 180 would be amazing. 150, is like a said, a dream. The last time I weighed 150 for any length of time was when I was 12. When I was 13, I weighed 180. I just can't imagine my life in that situation. I just pray that God would prepare me for what is to come.

I have 2 weeks and 2 days to go before I start my liquid fast. They do is for rapid weight loss before the surgery to lose as much fat from my liver as possible. It will be difficult, but I can do it. This has put pressure on me to eat all the different flavours before this date. It's not that I am trying to eat all that I can and stuff myself silly, but I am trying to eat what I don't think I will be eating afterwards. Like creamy pastas and even fast food. In 2 years, I'll be able to pretty much eat whatever I want. I am hoping that I want to eat well, that in this time I will wholeheartedly embrace a new life and a new way of eating and enthusiastically choose the food that is what my body needs rather than what my emotions want. And even if I choose to eat a bit of dessert, that I will have a bite and be done with it. In 2 years I want to smash this idol of food and see it for what it is - nourishment.