Old Habits Die Hard

Monday, April 29, 2013

I'm half way through my free fooding reprieve period. While I didn't go completely hog wild, a few of my bad habits did rear their ugly heads. For instance, I was sitting on my ample ass catching up on the days events through the miracle of television when I began to hear what sounded like a muffled distress signal coming from my kitchen area.  I followed my ear to the walk-in pantry and discovered it was a new bag of SmartPop calling out for some companionship.  How could I not oblige this old friend and everyone of his kernally buddies? Thinking I could handle it, I succumbed to my SmartPop demon. I could handle just a taste, right? Wrong. Before I knew it, I discovered I had inadvertently demolished most of a party sized bag of the salty little devils. Once I awakened from this foodtopia, the new me decided to check the back of the bag and review the recommended serving size and the calorie content of each portion. One cup equals one serving size and is like 80 calories.  Servings per container: 8.  Oh-oh... I think I just wolfed down enough popcorn to feed an entire American family.  Not good. I could probably handle eating for an entire family of Pygmies, but a whole American family is stretching it.

Another former villain also crept back into my weekend.  My old friend Al, as in Al-co-hol.  I'm really starting to understand why the nutritionists and doctors want you to abstain from these adult beverages when you're trying to lose weight.  It's not just the empty calories that hurt, it's the loss of all your inhibitions and any food will power you might have. I'm a perfect example. Just one cocktail at the halfway house during a round of golf quickly turned into a second and a third on the golf course. Of course we all gathered afterward for our post round score card reviews, complete with lively conversation and more libations. Then for some reason, our group conversation went from "why a guy can't name a drink after himself because it's already called a cuba libre" to betting on me to see how many mini cheeseburgers I could eat. Childish, yes. But a serious challenge nonetheless! Remembering my SmartPop episode, I tried, but could not determine the serving size of one adult for mini cheeseburgers. I had to improvise. I figured the average guy could eat around five.  Right? Well right or wrong, I went with my instincts. Good news is, I did not capitulate to peer pressure and go for the "over 9" bet. I could have done it. But was it really worth the $100? See ... I'm learning.

Two old pals also paid a visit this past weekend. Ben & Jerry.  Seems they had some new blueberry concoction that they needed my opinion on. Being an agreeable fellow, I vigorously accepted their offer and consented to sample the cold delicacy. I knew that to give a fair review, a simple scoop would be inadequate. I figured three would be a fair test. Once my testing bowl was filled, I slowly began analyzing every mouthful.  Strong vanilla base with a wild twang of blueberry topped of with a graham cracker crust.  Genius! A delectable frozen cobbler, contained in a hand size cardboard holding cup, found conveniently in your local grocer's frozen food section.  What will they think of next? Maybe some type of self saucing ravioli on a stick.  Now THAT would be cool.

As my Last Supper approaches tomorrow, it's plain to see that I have issues to deal with. I have always associated eating and drinking with living and having a good time. Clearly, I have an unhealthy marriage to food and drink. Moving forward past tomorrow, I will have to experience an emotional divorce from both and the bad habits they promote. I have been told that I will be on a roller coaster of emotions starting with excitement, moving through sadness and depression and finally on to peace and acceptance. Sounds like a great few months ahead! I just hope I don't have to pay any food alimony.

Just one more day.

Check back soon or, better yet, sign up for an email notifications of my new posts on the right side of the column. 

You should also join the Johnny Fan Club! Hurry, we are having our first meeting next week.  I have reserved a phone booth.

The Last Supper

Friday, April 27, 2013

The weekend is upon us. This leaves only 5 short days of unrestricted food & alcohol intake before I re-start the pre-op diet on Wednesday morning.  Truth be told, I was doing so well on the post Florida plan, that I am feeling real guilty about breaking it.  I lost close to 13 pounds in 14 days and could actually notice the difference. As mentioned before, this is only a fly on an elephant's butt, but I see tangible evidence of success. I can now fit comfortably in my Level 2 emergency fat pants. Level 2 is the outside range of any clothes that I posses that will get me through a work week. Thankfully, I did not have to invoke Level 3 emergency protocols.  That consists of two pairs of funky colored zubaz pants from the 80's and a couple of  one size fits most "I'm with stupid" sweatshirts. And God forbid I ever hit Level 4.  I have only 2 items there, a moo moo and a beach towel, neither of which works in corporate America.

My plans are just about set for my final fling.  Friday, Blackhawks game in the city (maybe late night run to Gene & Judes?) Saturday, fancy soiree at the country club complete with cocktails, heavy hors d'oeuvres and vintage wines. Sunday TBD.  I am actively searching for a place with the best liguini & red clam sauce in the suburbs. Monday TBD.  I will probably opt for a simple home cooked meal and a store bought dessert. That brings us to the Last Supper.

Emails, calls and texts rapidly spread the word of  my final surgery date.  My close friends and compatriots decided that I should go out with a bang!  So Gibson's Steakhouse in Oakbrook it is.  The usual suspects and a few mystery guests will gather to bid adieu' to the "ass of the century". (You can construe that in several ways. For the purposes of this column, it shall refer to the massive blob on which I sit and not to my charming persona).

I called for the reservations. 

"Gibson's Oakbrook. This is Candy. May I help you?" she politely asked.

"Candy huh....sweet name. I need to make a reservation for Tuesday evening, around 7."

"For how many?" she asked.

"A lot. The word is still spreading.  People may be flying in from every continent other than Antarctica." I informed her.

"Wow. Is this a special occasion?" she sweetly inquired.

Because in my twisted little world, I believe this should be international news, I am once again flabbergasted that she has no clue.

"You mean you haven't heard about the Last Supper?" I quizzically asked.

"The Jesus dinner?" she wryly inquired.
"No! It's a celebration with friends and followers of my last meal." I said.
"You mean like the Jesus dinner." she shot back.

I could see this spunky youngster wasn't getting it so I just reserved a room and got done with it. But it does make one wonder.  With all due reverence to the Prince of Peace, my Last Supper is much the same from a human angle. It will be the last time, for a long time, that I can gather with a bunch of great friends and share a great meal and a few adult beverages. Thankfully, these gatherings are more about the friends than the food. However, it would be nice if I could turn the water into a nice Cabernet. It would save us a fortune.

More "soon come".

jt

And the answer is ......

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

APPROVED!!!!!!!    After 5 weeks of being on pins and needles, we have a GO! My loyal readers worldwide know I was focusing in on today actually being my surgery date.  That didn't quite work out. But I am now officially scheduled for Wednesday, May 15. YAAAAY!

With this exciting news comes a new firm schedule. I have to begin the 14 day pre-op diet on Wednesday, May 1.  As you know, I have been on this diet already for the past 15 days.  With some success I might add.  As of today, roughly 12 pounds of unwanted body mass have gone their separate way. Mere grains of sand off a beach, I know. But its the first success I've had losing anything other than my money at the track or my wallet in a drunken stupor. So I'm hanging my hat on this.  At least now I know that if I shut my cake hole long enough, I have an actual chance of losing this massive growth behind me. Technically known as my fat ass.

I have examined the calender very carefully now that I have firm dates.  I have to restart the14 day pre-op diet next Wednesday.  So the question is .... stay committed to the diet or take a little reprieve? Hmmmmm ..... I vote for the reprieve! After all, my poor eating habits will end for all eternity in 3 weeks.  Yes, this is a fine decision.  I don't need to go crazy and enter a hot dog eating contest or anything like that. But I wouldn't mind saying farewell to a few loyal friends. Like Ben & Jerry, Wendy, Mama Celeste, Captain Crunch and Baby Ruth.

So it's decided! I shall answer your raucous cheers and bring back my Farewell To Food tour for one last encore. However, the time is short.  I only have time for a couple of stops.  I need to think this out carefully.  I always wondered what I would order for my last meal if I was facing the chair.  Well, this is sorta the same thing.  Only without the final buzzer. Most guys would go for a steak and potato.  But if I was facing that deadline, I would opt for an entire leg of lamb, a full side of beef , or something that takes a long time to scoff down. Situational thinking. That's what we need here.

Since I only have 5 days or so, I have to plan accordingly.  I want to make sure that I give proper last rites to Linguine with clam sauce, Kung Pao Chicken, Huevos Rancheros, Steak au poivre and a good ol' T-bone Americana. A world wide whirlwind.  So much food, so little time.  I know I will be able to taste these foods in the future in a very restricted portions. But eating to full satiety will no longer be possible. So it's gonna be all about the savoring. Savoring all the different piquant smells. Savoring every ambrosial mouthful of Mother Earth's bounty. Ahhhhhh.

I'm as excited as a teenager on his first date! Maybe I can get to second base!  FYI- in a food context, that means the pie ala mode.

Check back soon!

Ciao!

jt

Final Deadline Set !

Friday, April, 19 2013

There's news .... again.  While I was sitting at my desk buttoning up the week, I decided to make a quick call to Dr. X's able assistant. Truly, I was expecting no update whatsoever.  But, I was a little pleased to hear she's had some dialog with the Howdowenotpay Company.  Apparently they have acknowledged receipt of the necessary papers to complete their final review. I was even  told that they told her it would be another five days for the review.  She reviewed her records and calculated that the five day period will end on Tuesday.  So we're looking at Tuesday for the final news. 

I'm starting to wondering if no news is bad news on this approval. Afterall, my former fat ass, semi- retired friend was approved in 2 freakin' days! But full disclosure on that. He was over 4 hundo and in a serious health situation.  I heard his insurance company was so happy that they wired the money the next day.  Ha.. kidding.  But that isn't to far fetched. As big as my ass is, I barely qualify for consideration for this procedure.  Go ahead and laugh all you want. But it's the truth.  If you recall, during my consultation, Trainer L put me on that fancy machine with the Harley handlebars. Somehow that contraption figured my body fat percentage was just over the minimum to qualify for the lap band. That was probably the only time in my life that I was hoping to be fatter than I actually was.  So fat ass ... yes. Surgical fat ass ... hopefully!

As the days of the calendar continue to pass, I'm really getting concerned about the timing of this surgery.  My plan was to have all this done by now and get on with my summer.  Obviously fancy dining, drinking and partying are at the top of my addiction list. But not far behind is golf. I may be crappy at it, but I am addicted none the less.  I have to guess that after Dr. X pierces my abdominal area in five places with a huge needle thingy, stuffs in the lap band apparatus through a little hole, moves my liver all asunder, and then finally attaches the food chastity belt to the top of my stomach, there will be a little recovery time involved. Even if I'm a "fast healer", which I have no idea, it's got take some time for my innards to unswell and my outters to seal up.  I don't want to end up having my pancreas or some other vital organ popping out one of those little holes during my back swing. I'm thinking that would leave a mark.

I promised myself that this year was all about health and that I would not obsess about my golf game. I'm still committed to that, BUT, as the weather gets nicer, it's really gonna be hard. My favorite days are sunny, summer Saturdays. A good round of golf and then off to the bar for a few frosty beers and some man banter. These are the days I live for.  And because I live in area of the country blessed with 15 month winters, these days come and go in a flash. Before you know it, you're ball deep in snow again. My window for non food enjoyment is very small. So here's hoping my time on the disabled list will only be a couple weeks.  I did ask Dr. X about this and he told me I'd be swinging a club in that time frame.  Let's hope he's right.

Finally, I have stuck to the pre-op diet prescribed by the bubbly Ms.K like a starvin' dog on a meatball.  I have lost a solid 10 pounds.  Some folks have asked me if I am going to count this loss towards my total.  I can honestly say YOU BET YOUR FAT ASS I AM!

Check back mid week.  Hopefully I can give you an update.

See ya!
jt

Deal or no Deal?

Tuesday, April 16, 2013


It's now been 35 days by my calculations since Dr. X's office remitted my surgery request to my insurance company. And this morning comes news.  It seems the Howdowenotpay Company is requiring more information for their review board to make a decision. Maybe I should email them a picture of me in my leopard skin Speedo. That should either get them to give me an immediate approval or call the local zoo to see if an animal is missing.

Dr. X's able assistant has informed me that the additional information they requested is already included in the previously submitted package. Being efficient, she is going to circle it, hi-lite it and email it back to them post haste. I asked her if this gives them another 30 days for review and she assured me it didn't.  So here we all are, waiting. Waiting to hear from a room full of analysts that put the best interest of their company before the patients. 
But, hey, don't get me wrong!  As much as a pain in backside as this approval process is, it only makes me wonder what it will be like in the very near future when our trusted government takes over our health care system. Make no mistake folks, we are all going to be facing review of every procedure our doctors deem necessary in our golden years.  The new Free Health Care for the Lazy, Crazy & Criminal act, passed in the dark of night by The Madwomen of the Bay Area and her compatriots two years ago, requires all medicare surgeries to be approved by a panel.  So instead of a board of greedy business people, our reviews will be done by a bunch of government bureaucrats. Try and picture them reviewing my case. If they saw my Speedo picture, they would probably deny my surgery and just send me food stamps. Either choice is unappealing.  But given the two, I'll take the greedy businessmen.  At least you can get them on the phone and bitch at them. Hello, Rajeeve?

Nobody can argue that our health care system needed to be reviewed & revamped.  I actually held some hope that our sincere elected officials would approach it that way. What was I thinking? Instead of taking their time and really analyzing our current system, those idiots just a figured out a way to give it away to a bunch of freeloaders and make the rest of us pay for it. Some fix! Just wait. In 2 years, it may take 3-5 months to get an appointment with your current doctor as opposed to the already long 2-4 weeks.  IF you get approved for a surgery, you will be put on a wait list. Just like in Canada & the UK, it takes 6-8 months to schedule a surgery. That's why rich Canadians come here and rich Englanders go to India. Great fix, eh?

It's hard to be a working American these days and not be a cynic. Unfortunately, If you're blessed enough to have millions of dollars, have a big corporate job, a really successful small business or just a really good career that you've given your life to, you can expect to be villianized by the "takers".  And the "takers" are firmly in control and not going away any time soon. They will be coming at you faster and harder and with more hands than ever reaching in your pockets. But beware all you "takers"!  Because a bureaucrat only cares about fattening his own wallet and his next election, he will whittle the definition of middle class down so low that eventually he will be in your pockets too. Nobody rides for free.

Well so much for my anti-government rant.

FYI- I have been following the very restrictive pre-op diet now for 7 straight days and have seen good results. 9, count 'em 9, pounds of blubber have left the building. I know it's only a couple of deck chairs off the Titanic. But it's a start. A wise man once said that a journey of a thousand miles, begins with the first step. Hmmmm, I wonder if he was a fat ass too?

Check back soon... we could hear tomorrow.

Keep on Truckin ...

jt

Still on pins ...

Attention New Visitors!  You may want to start with the first post. We wouldn't want you to miss anything.

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

I am back from my final fling in Florida.  I went down to play a little golf and also to EAT, drink and be merry.  The eating and the drinking were no problem at all.  The golf, not so much.  I played more like Arnold the Pig than like Arnold Palmer. I also ate like him as well. Yessir, I tied on the ol' feedbag like I was going to the chair. I ate at least a school of grouper and a baby cow. And you know I didn't want the local pastry chefs and chocolatiers to feel slighted, so I gave them a good run too. I left no food group unchallenged. If I'm going down, I'm going down in flames baby.

I knew I would have to pay a hefty price for this debaucherous food and drinking binge. And it didn't take long.  I noticed that I developed a waddle at the airport. On top of that, I had to go through the metal detector sideways. And we don't even want to talk about squeezing into the exit row seat.  I was afraid I wouldn't be able to get out of it on time, forcing me to land somewhere like Des Moines and finally be extricated by the maintenance crew.  Fortunately, some Good Samaritan passenger had a tow rope in his carry on that did the trick. Whew!

The final insult was hurled at me by my bathroom scale this morning.  Bleeech.  I wanted to throw up when the final number showed itself. I've only seen numbers like this on the professional bowling tour. The madness has GOT to stop.  And today is Day 1.



As reported to you last week, I have picked up the necessary items to begin the pre-op diet.  I decided that today would be the day regardless if I had a firm surgery date or not.  My plan is to be ready when (if) they get the green light! So today, we began with the liquid breakfast, liquid lunch and dinner fit for a parakeet. Game on.

Oh and by the way.  After I got settled down at the office today, I called Dr. X's office for an update.  I'm on pins waiting to hear if the Howdowenotpay insurance company is going to step up to the plate for this or if I'm going to have to dip into my retirement fund to pay for it. After just receiving terrible news from my tax preparer, I really am in no mood to have to shell out another big check. I was told that the insurance company has all the papers they need and that my request is still in review. Maybe I should have sent them a video of me and my second place ribbon from the Beef-O-Rama last Saturday. 

Check back soon!

jt

Lap Band 101 -

Monday, April 1, 2013

New Readers!  Start with the first post. I wouldn't want you to miss anything!

Note to readers:

I have decided to start dating each new post so we can all follow along on the progress in real time. After all, we are counting down the days to the official start of my deconstruction.

It's really good to know that I have so many readers and supporters out there.  We have reached over 1000 views in a very short time. We've accomplished this with no advertising other than FB and good ol' word of mouth. We actually have readers in the UK, China, Canada, Italy, Germany, Poland and 1 lonely fat ass in St. Maarten!

This "Johhnyhisteria" that is sweeping the globe has prompted tons of questions from readers, family and friends. Some real good questions that I haven't even thought to ask myself.  So if you have a question or comment .. bring it on!

I wanted to take a little time today and explain exactly how this Lap Band contraption works.  I get more questions on this than about anything else. It's made me realize that I have done a piss poor job in actually explaining the whole process to you.  So here goes. And remember, I'm not a doctor.  Please also remember that I have the attention span of a gnat and get almost all my information from Dr. Google.

Let's start with the actual Lap Band device itself. (Picture below)

You can see from the picture, that the device basically consists of the actual band, connected to some tubing that runs down to an access port.  The access port looks a little like a Rolo candy, only wider on the top. I'm sure there is a better description, but, hey... I like those Rolo candies. How can you not? Luscious milk chocolate covering chewy caramels in handy bite size pieces. Yes, true works of art. Oops.. lost my train of thought.  Back to the lap band.

The system works this way.  The actual "band" is surgically inserted and wrapped around what they call the stoma.  That's the connector between the small stomach pouch and the big stomach pouch. The attached connecting tube runs down to the port.  The port is permanently attached somewhere on the abdomen. The port will be accessed by syringe in the future. By adding or extracting saline into the tube,  the band will either contract or expand thereby allowing more or less food in. That's pretty much it. The hard part in the future is getting the exact right amount of saline in the tube and getting that band at the exact diameter.  Everybody is different, so finding the sweet spot on the band could take up to 5 "fills".  Once the sweet spot is found, hunger is supposedly diminished and controllable.

The surgery itself is done using laparoscopic techniques.. Dr. X will drill 4 holes in my abdomen area. He will then insert some claw like tools, flip up my liver, squish in the device, wrap the band around the small stomach area, run the tube down along my big stomach and then sew the port onto my abdomen.  I'm told this will take less than an hour.  It's an outpatient procedure so I will be allowed to convalesce at home barring any unexpected issues.  I have also been told to expect to be pretty sore for a few days and not plan any strenuous activity.  That won't be a problem.

.

Well that's the mechanics of the lab band as I understand them. Obviously, I'm nervous as a dog shittin' peach pits. It's not like Dr. X graduated on-line from the University of Phoenix.  He's a big shot surgeon who's done hundreds of these procedures working at a well respected facility.  What could go wrong?
Let's just skip that.

But I wonder .... Will there will be some type of deflation noise, like a tire leaking, once he pierces my skin? Or, what if it's really true what some people say ... that I'm full of a lot of hot air. If those folks are correct,  I may deflate down to 130 pounds and just call this whole thing off.

More soon!
jt

P.S. Cubs Win! Tied for 1st.