I blinked a few times when I looked down at the scale this morning. I couldn’t believe my eyes. 199? Could it really be?
It’s been decades since I’ve weighed under 200 pounds. So grateful to have reached goal #2 in 11 weeks!
Category: Uncategorized
LOVE FOR ALL, HATRED FOR NONE (A review of The Wrong Kind of Muslim)
A few months ago, I was Twitterduced to Qasim Rashid by my friend Sharon. I noticed immediately he was different than many Muslims I encounter on social media. He was peaceful, kind – especially when attacked, and spoke intelligently, not just about his faith, but also others, including my own. When I heard he’d written a book about his faith journey, I couldn’t wait to read it.
I have lived my life in the Christian faith, but God is big enough and doesn’t need me to defend Him, club others on the head to prove my point of Him, and my mind can remain open to dialogue, befriend, and journey with those who have a different interpretation of Him.
As an American often surrounded by Islamaphobes (and homophobes and just about every other “phobe” fueled by ignorance, fear and the refusal to change) I find myself in conversations where I have to choose my words wisely lest I get drawn into an angry, “but I have to be right or my faith isn’t the best/real/certain,” arguments.
I read The Wrong Kind of Muslim for many reasons. First and foremost was to gain understanding into a world in which I have very little knowledge. Qasim not only educates about his world and reality, he took me on a very detailed walk through it. Instead of a stream of dry information, I was invited to meet Qasim’s family, and discover his family history as he visited Pakistan, the country of his birth. The stories he tells are real, and the people killed, tortured, wounded and persecuted are real.
As a Christian, I will admit I didn’t know much about Muslims beyond Sunnis and Shias before I read this book. Of course, the media focuses on the most violent, the most insane and most brutal parts of the Islamic community, just as it focuses on the most violent, uneducated, and ridiculous parts of the Christian community. If one is content to be spoon fed by the media and not think for oneself, the foundation for prejudice and judgmental reaction is solid, no matter what your belief system is.
Qasim Rashid is an Ahmadi Muslim, a peace-living, peace-loving branch of Islam. They live by the code of, “Love for all, hatred for none.” Many Christians (and others) want to believe that all Muslims are evil so badly they can’t wrap their brains around such a statement. I am so grateful I was able to do so.
Depending on which side of the altar you sit on Sunday, be it in a liberal church or a conservative one, many Christians feel that their religion has been hijacked – and that’s just politically and ideologically. Imagine having your religion hijacked by people who are hellbent on killing everyone who doesn’t believe as they do? Qasim has lived in that world his entire life.
I cried as I read about children dying in Mosque attacks. Muslims attacking Muslims. The peaceful responses of the Ahmadis. I was angry when Qasim was. I was sad when he was. The further I read in the book, the more open my eyes became.
While most Christians focus on Christian persecution in the world, Qasim notes many instances of religious persecution in the world. He sees beyond the persecution of his own people, though his heart is with the Ahmadi people. I pray for the day when many Christians can see beyond themselves to the suffering of any human being the world regardless of their beliefs. Their hearts can stay true to their faith while helping and praying to end suffering around the world.
I finished reading The Wrong Kind of Muslim with a new perspective on the Muslim world. This book is for all – people of any faith seeking to understand a different religion, Muslims seeking to take back their faith from extremists, and for those, like me, hoping that knowledge can build bridges of understanding.
Knowledge is the light that burns prejudice to vapors. Thank you, Qasim, for such a well written, informative book! I look forward to reading more of your work in the future.
This book is available everywhere, including a Kindle edition on Amazon. I would encourage all to read!
CLOSING IN ON ONEDERLAND
When I was a kid, Memorial Day marked opening weekend at the lake cottage my grandparents owned. I grew up in the water, learning to swim early on and becoming an expert in water and boat safety whether I’d planned to or not. I was a strong swimmer and yes, my element is water.
I live where the UV warnings are out daily, so I do not frequent the pool or the beach. My skin, fueled by genetics and medicinal side effects, burns rather quickly no matter how hard I try to protect it.
When It came time to look for a gym, however, the main selling point for me was a pool. Had LA Fitness not had a pool, I would not have joined.
Fast forward a few months and I am an Aqua Fit junkie. I go every Saturday morning and I’m trying to work in Tuesday and Thursdays after work. My LA Fitness does not have those classes, so I am having to hunt around other LA Fitness locations to find a class nearby.
Aqua Fit is a highly underrated workout. 50 minutes of aerobics, weights, and core toning, with music and a motivating instructor, all the while being in the water, not getting overheated – who can beat that? I certainly can’t.
With Aqua Fit, the scale is moving again. I am at 206.5 pounds now. I can’t remember the last time I weighed this, but I am certain it wasn’t in this century. As I close in on “Onederland” I am ecstatic, but the NSV’s (Non-Scale Victories) are even more exciting.
Months ago, I made a list of things I look forward to as a thinner person – NSV’s. I am 70 pounds from goal and I have already achieved some of them – shopping on the first floor of Macy’s, crossing my legs effortlessly, enjoying getting photographed, and having one chin. Others are right around the corner, and I’ve even achieved NSV’s that I hadn’t even thought of at the time, like putting on a shaper and having no back fat spill over.
My surgeon was a bit disappointed that I’ve only lost 31 pounds so far until he remembered that I am taking Tamoxifen, which makes me gain weight, and now is very happy I’ve lost 31 pounds while taking Tamoxifen. As long as the scale keeps moving, I will be satisfied as well.
The weight loss is exciting, but my ultimate goal outside of health benefits remains the same – appearing on the outside what I feel on the inside. I am still amazed that I’m even on this journey, but I am ever so grateful.
COFFEE IN PANAMA (the meaning of a coffee date)
Saturday, while I was on my recumbent bike at the gym, I noticed an older, Hispanic gentleman get on a bike to my left. I was preoccupied, however, with reading Paulo Coelho’s new book, Manuscript from Accra and with listening to Gotye to pay him much attention.
When I was finished with my bike ride, I pulled out my headphones and I heard him say, “I’d like to meet you.” He seemed nice enough and we chatted for a while, then he asked me out for coffee on Sunday.
Since life has changed so much for me in the past couple of years and I know that life is short and opportunities should be taken (ask, “why not?”), I decided to give him a shot and told him I would meet him for coffee.
Coffee dates are the new pre-date assessment. If the coffee date is good, a date usually happens. If the coffee date is bad, you have, as my sweet friend Megan says, “a funny date story.”
Coffee dates are casual, non-commital meetings that involve coffee and talking. This scenario is what I was expecting from the man who shall be forever known as G the Autobahn-Speed Dater.
I get to the coffee shop and he arrived a few minutes later. He walks in and grabs both my hands. He’s Latino, so I figured he was going to kiss me on the cheek, but I was wrong. He kissed me then continued to hold one of my hands as we walked toward the counter.
He tried to kiss me again, and I held up a finger. “Down boy.”
“Oh, but I like kissing you.”
Apparently he misread the, “Oh hell no you didn’t,” look on my face the first time.
We got our coffee and sat down. He kept calling me baby and he kept telling me how beautiful I was and how we needed to be together. He also kept holding my hand, which began to irritate me the more he revealed his plan for the rest of my life.
He began by telling me he was a good Christian man, which he “proved” by showing me the Bible app on his phone. He tried to reinforce this notion by telling me he attends a particular Baptist church nearby (though not the one I worked at for several years).
I finally wrested my hand away after he first asked me if I had or could have kids and then happily told me it was good that I couldn’t have children anymore so we wouldn’t have to worry about babies.
By the way, I was wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt at the gym. I was not scantily dressed or giving off the “wrong” signals. I was exercising, reading and sweating. I gave this man no indication that his notion of a “relationship” was what I wanted. He asked me for coffee. COFFEE.
Apparently coffee must mean something entirely different in Panama.
I stared him down. I was trying not to laugh because the situation was completely ridiculous. He was so desperate, and he threw God’s name in the conversation as much as he could. I had not told him I was a Christ follower, but I was sort of glad he could tell. I was, however, I was mad as hell he was trying to manipulate me by saying he was a, “nice, Christian man,” several times. (I know what nice, Christian men look like, which was unfortunate for him).
I was still smiling, though. I couldn’t help it. He was so desperate for me to say yes to this relationship proposal, and was so certain that saying yes to coffee meant I would, that he was completely shocked when I said, “you are ready to dive into the deep end and I am just here to put a toe in the water. And by the way, the TOE is all you’re getting.”
I tried to be nice about it, but he was getting irritated. He kept reminding me that I said yes when he asked me out to coffee.
“G, you asked me out for coffee, and I don’t know what that means to you, but in America, it means coffee. Conversation. Maybe a hug or a handshake at the end. If things go well, you move forward, if not, like right now, this is probably the last time you see each other.”
His nice, Christian man attitude deteriorated from there.
Fifteen minutes had passed since I’d gotten out of my car. He very curtly stated that we shouldn’t waste each other’s time and we should leave. I stood up and before my feet hit the ground, he had thrown his full cup of coffee away and started back toward me.
He kissed me again. I let him live because it wasn’t bad. Then he stomped off to his car screaming expletives (such a nice, Christian man) and then he left.
I let Megan know right away that I had a funny story to tell her, while texting my BFF in California and my “little sister” Laura know the results of the speed dating coffee date.
With apologies to G, I’m not in that big of a hurry. I’m looking for a real Christian man, not a pretender who thinks all a Christian woman is looking for is someone who has mislabeled himself and will give her an instant relationship, instant security.
Sassy don’t play that.
Any real men who know what a coffee date is, feel free to contact me. All speed-daters, desperados and pretenders, stay away.
By the way, my cup of coffee lasted longer than the date did. I may have set some sort of record.
27 POUNDS AND SWIMSUIT SHOPPING
I weighed myself this morning and so far I’ve lost 27 pounds! This is the craziest ride I’ve been on!
I went to the gym Saturday morning to ride the recumbent bike. It felt good to be back at the gym. I saw the water aerobics class already in progress and decided that was something I wanted to try.
This afternoon, I went to buy a bathing suit. Normally, this is the bane of a woman’s existence, especially mine, but if I wanted to be in this class I needed something that fit. I went to Academy to get a nice bathing suit, although I doubt I can wear it for more than two months or so.
This process was not nearly as painful as it was in years past, especially since I fit in the clothes, workout gear, and bathing suits that Academy has to offer. So I bought my first Speedo bathing suit, and hope to be in class Saturday morning!
ONE MONTH INTO MY NEW LIFE
A month ago, I let a doctor rearrange my innards so I could lose weight once and for all. It’s been a roller coaster ride of sorts, an experiment on the grandest of scales. I’m still learning my new stomach’s limits, not just with volume, but types of food. I haven’t always done well with this venture, but I’m learning.
As of today, I’ve lost 23 pounds. I lost 20 rather quickly, plateaued, then started losing again this week. Even with the plateau, the weight loss has taken me down a size and I can look in the mirror and see results.
My plan is to go back to the gym next week for cardio and as soon as the doctor releases me, I will call my trainer and let her whip me into gear. I know once I’m back at the gym I will lose weight even faster. Sometimes I can’t believe it’s actually happening, but it is.
I’m still waiting for all the supposed “energy” to arrive. I am still on Tamoxifen, so maybe that’s what the holdup is. I do, however, feel better than I have in a long time. A long, long, long time. I will try to remain patient and diligent and when the energy does come I will put it to good use!
In the meantime, I’m eating tiny meals, taking my vitamins, and taking care of myself!
POST-OP MUSINGS
Well, Monday has come and gone. I had my surgery! I have entered the two week period of “What did I just do to myself!” and the endless sipping of liquids.
The surgery went well. After surgery I had an extremely difficult time for a few hours with the nausea and being paler than usual. It took whoever brings up the meds an hour and a half to get me the anti-nausea meds. I was not happy about the response time at this hospital. They did turn the temperature up in the room, which helped, and I finally settled into sleep.
Dear Laura, who has been with me now through two surgeries, delivered me to the hospital in the morning darkness and was sitting by my bed for hours. Finally, she went home and I settled into getting woken up every two hours to walk, take meds, vitals, etc. I did walk for the first time later that evening, and again at 3 AM and more frequently thereafter.
I couldn’t have water until I passed the dye test on Tuesday morning, which was a bit of a surprise to me. Not even ice chips. The nurse brought me swabs to keep my mouth moist. After doing the breathing treatments, my throat already sore from the surgery, I was ready for those swabs!
The nurses began saying I would go home Tuesday if I passed the dye test – my doctor was infamous for sending patients home as soon as possible to recoup. I had all my tests extremely early that morning and then around 1 PM the doctor came in and told me I could go home.
The discharge nurse then told me I had to fill the pee pan to a certain level before SHE would let me go home. Keep in mind my stomach now only holds four ounces of anything and I had been denied liquids until about 11 that morning.
I had gathered a bit of water, Gatorade, sugar-free lemonade around me and started sipping. And sipping. And sipping as much as my tiny pouch would hold. Output was slow. I’ll be honest, it was 4:30 before I made the offering satisfactory to my nurse!
Finally, I was able to come home and climb into my recliner and start sipping more liquids. I took my pain medicine as soon as Laura brought it to me. I must have drank it too fast, because I had my first experience with dumping syndrome (cramps, nausea, and a fever spike). I’m glad I got that out of the way – I do NOT want to go through that ever again and now that I know what it feels like, I will walk the straight and narrow! (which is not easy to do alone and out of it).
My college roommate, Becky, helped take care of her sister, Sarah, when she had the surgery a few years ago. Becky was her drill sergeant and made sure she did all her breathing exercises, drank her fluids, etc. They both made the offer to help me out and every day they have been chatting with me, and the accountability is wonderful. If you’ve ever seen the Beckster Stare of Disapproval you don’t ever want to see it again! I’m so grateful for them and their help!
Now I need to sip. I can hear Becky saying that from far away. Just keep sipping. Just keep sipping. Just keep sipping…
WHERE I AM, WHERE I’M GOING
ONE WEEK TO GO!
I’m down about 8-9 pounds on the high protein pre-op liquid diet. I stopped begging people to bring me a bucket of chicken (kidding) on Thursday. I finally am experiencing ketosis, which basically means my liver is shrinking and my fat is burning. I am no longer “hungry.”
I can understand why people fast. It does bring a clarity of mind. I have also experienced hunger, true hunger, for the first time in recent memory. It made me think of the little girl I sponsor in India and how I never want her to ever know hunger again. To not be able to satisfy that ache in the belly for an indefinite period of time – I don’t even want to think about it.
One week to go until surgery. I’m going back to work tomorrow for the week in between and I’m happy to have a reason to get out of the house – to feel useful. One more week of no food whatsoever, then the real test begins.
I’m happy, truly, to be attacking the obesity problem in my life, to finally be pro-active in my health. I have become a recipe diva (imagine doing this while not eating) and am ready to face the challenge of rebuilding my shrinking body.
I’ve got this.
I’m sure the next week will fly by. I can’t believe I had surgery four weeks ago and haven’t been in my regular routine since. I know I will look back at this season and see many threads I can’t at the moment.
The tapestry will be beautiful and it will be mine.
VANILLA & ORANGE CREAM LIFE
I have started the pre-op liquid diet. 3-5 shakes a day of two flavors (vanilla and orange cream). Don’t know how much weight, if any, this particular part of the journey will remove, but the shakes will help me prepare my liver to move out of the way for surgery (by shrinking).
Am I hungry? After the last few months eating to prove a point, of course I am. I am not above chewing cardboard at this point…but I won’t because I’m determined to make the adjustment. One day, I will be able to eat solid food again – anything I want – and I plan on being quite the food snob by then.
I can’t believe I’m having surgery in 12 days. 12 days to change my life for the better forever!
Sassy Dreams Awake 