The Accidental Chore

Approximately 1.5 years ago, I put my cell phone on top of my car and drove off. As it came sliding down my windshield while I was traveling 40 miles an hour, I thought to myself, “Yay! I’m the proud winner of a 3.5 hour stay at the closest Verizon store where I will then get the ability to shell out my hard-earned cash in exchange for providing Apple with all of my personal data. Dreams really do come true.”

You can only imagine my delight when I realized that even after this joy ride, my old phone was really no worse for the wear. No cracked screen. Still turned on and off. The battery managed to last for a record-breaking 28 minutes on a good day. Everything was the exact same except for one thing.

It only works on speakerphone. Still to this day.

That’s right. For the last year and a half, forget about just providing Apple with my personal information, it’s now a service I offer for free to ALL my friends, family, co-workers and fellow Fred Meyer shoppers. When you have a cell phone that only works on speakerphone, random strangers start to learn a lot about you and, ultimately, your friend’s botched boob job. No matter how many times I tell people they are on speakerphone, stuff always ends up coming up that should probably stay private.

And, yes, this still beats me shelling out money for a new iPhone. I mean, I can take my old Six Plus and cover up the headphone jack with a piece of electrical tape and viola, a brand-new iPhone 10. Except for the speakerphone issue, of course. There’s always the speakerphone issue.

I decided that instead of investing in something new and expensive which would involve me learning new technology at 34 (seems legit impossible), I would turn to good old Craigslist.

Can I tell you how much I love Craigslist? For a family on a budget, it’s such a great tool to keep things economical, which is why it seemed like the perfect way to solve the speakerphone issue with a new-to-me phone.

This is the scenario that led me to the gas station near my work, clutching a handful of bills, leaning against my car, waiting for someone I didn’t know. A man pulled up next to me and made eye contact. When I looked back up, he was still looking at me. Since we’d been staring at each other for a good ten seconds, I naturally assumed he was there for me.

He wasn’t.

I started to realize this important fact as I got closer when he didn’t move to respond in the way I thought he should if he was planning on meeting someone. He just sat in his car, with his expression getting more puzzled with each step I took.  

But here’s where it got really awkward. Instead of saying something about meeting me for a Craigslist item, I took it to a weird place. I recognize that now.

I said, “Are you here for me?”

He laughed as he said, “If I were twenty years younger, I would be here for your services.”

Services?

Services.

I was confused by this point. Really. So I asked him what he meant and he replied with these three fateful words.

“You a hooker?”

They say it’s impossible but I say it’s not. I swallowed my tongue. And then, peeps, I almost died. As I jumped in my car to flee the scene of the accidental crime, I decided a phone that only works on speakerphone is better than ever showing my face at that gas station again.

When the husband goes shopping

I feel the need to start this story by telling you all the good things about my husband. He’s kind, compassionate, giving and extremely smart in a crazy intelligent kind of way. I’m grateful for all he does for our family and myself. But I also feel the need to let you know that he has flaws. Few flaws. But they are there. Would it be okay if I gave you an in-depth look into my husband’s mind? It can be a beautifully-annoying place when he attempts to grocery shop.

Warning: what I’m about to talk about next is AN EXACT reenactment of a true story. If you are easily agitated, it’s best to stop reading now.

Since my husband works on the road, he’s footloose and fancy free when he walks in the door for one week a month. For this reason, I thought it would be okay to send him to the grocery store for the two things we needed for dinner. As best as I can tell by the detailed description he gave me once he got home, the comprehensive map and written outline were enough for him to be able to procure milk and tortillas with little-to-no discomfort. But then he walked down the cereal aisle and that’s when the phone calls started rolling in.

Chase: Babe. I’m at Fred Meyer.

Katie: Good job?

Chase: And the cereal is on sale.

Katie: Shut. The. Front. Door. I’ve been grocery shopping for ten plus years and I’ve never seen the cereal go on sale. This is a miracle of Biblical proportions.

Chase: I’m sensing the sarcasm in your voice.

Katie: Good! If you didn’t, I would be highly concerned.

Chase: But this is a really good deal. We should stock up.

Katie: Babe, I can tell you really want to get some cereal. Since we regularly eat cereal, it really would be so helpful if you would pick some up. Thank you.

Chase: Okay, will do.  

Now if this were the end of the story, I obviously wouldn’t be writing about it. So let’s keep going.

30 seconds later. Phone call number two.

Chase: Still in cereal aisle.

Katie: Okay.

Chase: There are eight different varieties on sale. Three are more sugary based. I had planned on getting six boxes but now I’m not sure.

Katie: I’m hesitant to ask why because I’m afraid I might come across as more vested than I really am.

Chase: Well, I’ve done the math on the cost per ounce…

Katie: Math?

Chase: And based on the size, some are actually a better deal. But since the kids don’t eat sugar cereal, I’m concerned that getting six boxes might seem like too much.

Katie: Oh that’s right. Our kids neeeevvvver eat sugar cereal (the one week a month that you’re home).

Chase: Wait, should I get sugar cereal?

Katie: Babe, I trust you. It’s your call.

Chase: It just seems like six boxes is a big commitment and I don’t want to mess up.

Yes, peeps. My husband told me that making a purchase of somewhere in the neighborhood of $15 was a big commitment. I’m shocked he showed up to our wedding.

Fifteen seconds later. Phone call number three.

Chase: Still here.

Katie: This is weird.

Chase: I’ve decided I’m going to get two boxes of Fruity Pebbles and we can make a chart so the kids know to only eat it every third day.

Katie: Chart?

Chase: So should I get the fruity Fruity Pebbles or the chocolate ones?

Katie: Chart? Our youngest showed up to school today with only one shoe and you think I’m going to get my life together enough to make a chart to monitor cereal consumption?

Chase: It’ll be easy. You can do it.

Katie: You know me acting as The Cereal Enforcer is actually a chore, not something that brings me any joy?

Chase: So no on the Fruity Pebbles?

Katie: I. Don’t. Care. I have now wasted eighty precious seconds of my unlimited cell phone minutes discussing a topic I blindly support you on.

Chase: Okay. Well, it’s just that…

Katie: Nope. I give you full authority to handle this.

Two seconds later. Phone call number four.

Katie: If I hear the words “Fruity Pebbles” come out of your mouth, I’m not coming home tonight.

Chase: I just wanted to let you know that I figured it out.

Katie: I’m proud of you.

Chase: And I did get two boxes of uuuuhhhh.

Katie: Goodbye.

When I got home, the kids were rejoicing over their new cereal haul and rabidly shoving mouthfuls down their throats. Overall, it was a good day at the Burke house because I only had to go to the grocery store mentally and my husband figured out he could do hard things.

Can I ask just one small favor, dear reader? If you see my husband at Fred Meyer, standing in the cereal aisle while dialing his cell phone, will you “accidentally” run your cart into his ankles? Trust me when I say, my sanity is on the line.  

You’ve got to be kitten me

My neighbors want us out. Immediately. I don’t blame them for a second. In fact, if there’s already a petition working it’s way around, I’ll sign.

Why am I’m sure there’s a secret-eviction meeting going on right now? Because we’re officially the proud owners of 5.5 pets and common sense tells me that’s not okay.

It’s the people of my family who are certifiably insane. I’m actually normal and think it’s okay to own, like, zero pets. The rest of them can’t get enough.

It all started out like a normal day. I went to work and figured my family would find a way to entertain themselves.

They did. The pictures started rolling in. Not the yay-we’re-swimming shots I was expecting. The kind of pictures that lets me know there had been some kind of breakdown in the system.

Selfies with shelter cats.  #badsign

How did my girls possibly get to the Idaho Falls Animal Shelter to start snapping these pictures? As crafty as they are, I doubt they have mastered teleportation, or at the very least hitchhiking, at ripe old ages of 8 and 11. So this all points to…

Chase.

The mastermind behind ALL of the animals in our home. He knew a plea from an 8 year old would be hard to shut down. He’s smart but I’m quick. Once I saw the very first picture pop up on my cell phone, I had him on the phone, telling him to immediately drop whatever animal he was holding (safely) and vacate the premise. I had to act fast because I’ve been here before and ended up with a hunting dog that NEVER listened to me. Hence the .5 in our overall animal count. I’ve rehomed her to my dad’s farm but she still “belongs” to us.

At this point, they dropped this bomb on me. It was not one, but TWO kittens, who needed a home. I was almost beside myself. There’s no sane reason to adopt two kittens at the same time.

Isabelle: But they need a home!

Cambri: We can’t separate brothers!

Isabelle: Yeah! Do you want me and Cambri separated if something happens to you?

This, peeps, is what I was up against. Master manipulators in training.

Katie: You guys are anthropomorphizing these animals.

Cambri: Anabanana what?!?!

Katie: These kittens don’t know they need a home and they certainly have no concept of brotherhood. You’re giving human qualities to animals that don’t have the same intellectual abilities as we do.

Isabelle: What would Jesus do? I think he loves all creatures. 

Yup. The Jesus card. My eleven year old wasn’t messing around. But it worked. My heart had started to soften and I choked out the words, “Okay, we can get one…”

Chase: Let’s go get our cats, girls!

Katie: NO! I said one!

Chase: Well, I see your mom’s mouth moving but I’m not comprehending her words so that means she doesn’t really mean it.

Okay, he didn’t really say that but I know he was thinking it. I kept up the objections but nobody listened over the shouts of “Thanks Dad!”  and “You’re the best, Dad!”

At the end of the day, I was left in the driveway asking who was possibly going to take care of all of these animals as my family drove off to pick up our newest additions. We already have a spastic yorkie, a geriatric poodle who requires daily medication and a full-grown cat who is so lazy, I practically have to hand feed him. I mean, why not add two more kittens to the mix?

Oh wait. Because I do all the work. That’s why. Though I was assured I wouldn’t have to lift a finger, that feeble promise didn’t even last 24 hours. Chase left on a three-week business trip and both girls went to summer camp for a week the VERY NEXT DAY while I stayed at home litter training two kittens. Such is the life of a mom who never learned how to say no.

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Love After Loss

It’s true growing old isn’t a privilege extended to everyone. Last weekend, our cousin Julia passed away, leaving behind a shattered world of beloved family members including four kids, husband, mother and siblings.

Those of us left behind can’t wrap our heads around this injustice. How will anything ever set this horrific wrong right? The answer; it won’t. 

When you lose someone to tragedy, it’s so easy to concentrate on the things left unsaid. The deeds left undone.

The things said that we wish we could take back. The things we would DO differently if we had only known.

As far as I can tell, there are two options. You can wrap yourself up in bondage so great, you’ll never be released. You can dwell on the past in a way that ties you up for the rest of your Earthly life.

And, then when you arrive in Heaven in the presence of the Almighty God, you can hug your loved one, flesh to flesh, and tell them how you pined for them on Earth. How you spent years wishing you had treated them differently. How you wished you could have said I love you one last time. How you wouldn’t have spoken so harshly to them.

How you let it consume your life because you couldn’t forgive yourself. I can almost see the horrified expression of someone hearing you did all of this in their name.

Or, option number two, when you see them again, you can tell them that you lived your life well in their honor. You loved your spouse, your kids and you represented them on this planet when they couldn’t be here to do it themselves. You took your regrets and turned them into loving acts.

I’ve spent years living regret and I wouldn’t pick that for anyone. Our loved ones who have passed on wouldn’t pick it for us.

 

For those of us who knew Julia, can we agree she wouldn’t want it either? Instead, can we stand the gap for her here on Earth?

Can we love her kids well? Can we love her husband well?

She would certainly do it for anyone of us.

We're still here to witness the milestones. We can be there when her kids graduate from high school. We can be there when they get married. We can represent her in a way that would make her proud. 

Of course, it won’t be the same. But when we see her again, we can tell her we gave it our all. We didn't let the legacy she created waste away.  Instead of dwelling on the should haves, we showed up and loved her family. We supported Derek and the kids in a way that meant something.

For you Julie.

Things I Learned After VSG

Lately I’ve had a few people telling me to tone it back, to wipe this smile off my face.

I physically can’t do it. Seriously.

When you’re life is in a good place, you have no reason not to embrace the joy. Don’t get me wrong, my life wasn’t in a horrible place before. I have a wonderful family. I live in a nice neighborhood. I have a fun job. I really had nothing to complain about.

But I was grotesquely overweight. I was weighed down in a way that would be hard for some people to understand. I spent years hating myself and questioning my worth.

So now dropping 100 pounds, I can’t stop smiling. I feel better physically, mentally and emotionally. Just to play catchup, last July I had a Vertical Sleeve Gastrectomy at Bingham Memorial Hospital. 80% of my stomach was permanently removed and given that my anatomy was so greatly altered, I had no choice but to work on clearing up some mental roadblocks I had desperately held on to.

Now that I’m sixth months out and down 100 pounds, people have noticed and started asking questions. So I want to pass on what I’ve learned.

1.     Everyone will have an opinion. I feel like I spent so much energy talking my family into my surgery. After I had spent months talking myself into it, this point of the process felt exhausting and I probably wasn’t as patient as I could have been. Now, 100% of my family is onboard with my decision and excited to see the changed person I am now.

2.     It’s not the easy way out. I’m 32 and I’ll never eat an average-person meal again for the rest of my life. That doesn’t sound easy or fun. To me, it’s worth it but it’s not easy.

3.     It’s a tool. This tool is definitely not for everyone and I would never pretend otherwise. I’ve read plenty on the Internet of people who have failed, even after bariatric surgery. I’ve still had to work on emotional issues, which led to overeating in the first place. But this tool gave me a second chance at the life I wanted. If you don’t feel like you are ready to change, don’t jump into surgery.

4.     It will change your life. Besides being 100 pounds lighter, other aspects of my life have changed as well! I have energy in spades, much better self-control and a better outlook in general. I am mentally able to not give food as much power as I used to and instead spend time playing with kids.

5.     There are days I wish I could go back. I know this probably seems extremely contradictory to everything else I’ve written, but it’s true. There are days I deeply wish it didn’t have to come to this and I could just be back to my old ways. There are moments I genuinely wish I could eat whatever I want and not have to worry. But that’s not how it is. I think that’s normal with irreversible surgery. So I’ve developed things that help me get over it. I look in the mirror. I run on my treadmill. I concentrate on the positives instead of the negatives.

6.     Your body might respond to food differently. For me, I can no longer tolerate ground beef. I miss it. But I feel so horrible after trying to eat it, I’ve rearranged my diet to no longer use hamburger of any kind. On the flip side, I used to find boiled eggs nasty and now I crave them.

I could actually keep going on and on about what I’ve learned throughout this process. But the bottom line is that I’m so grateful for the opportunity to begin a healthy life.

Life After VSG

Today I woke up 80 pounds lighter than I was when I started my weight loss journey four months ago. I am a new person, not only physically but mentally as well.  If you’re keeping tabs, this is the third part in a series I’ve been writing about losing weight. This hasn’t been an easy adventures but your support makes all the difference. Thank you.

Just to get you caught up if you have missed the first two issues, I decided to have a vertical sleeve gastrectomy, which is a surgical procedure to permanently reduce the size of the stomach. A smaller stomach fills up faster, making you feel full before you start overeating.  Using surgical staples to section off most of your stomach, the surgeon creates a long vertical tube (or "sleeve") about the size of a banana and disposes of the excess stomach for good.

When I woke up from surgery, I remember pushing the happy button a lot. This magical device was supposed to deliver pain medicine at will. I also remember the very kind nurse telling me, “It’s only going to work once every six minutes sweetheart.” When I registered what she was saying to me, and I’m sure it took a few minutes, I decided sleep seemed like a better option and just closed my eyes.

When I woke up, I really wasn’t in pain anymore. Until I looked at my phone and saw an obvious pocket-text message from my boss that said “L You” followed up with “Ah. Pocket dial. That sounded bad.”  Even in my recovery state of mind, I found this to be hysterical.

The only problem here is that laughing after a majority of your stomach has been removed doesn’t feel pleasant. So I would laugh, then cry out in pain and then laugh again. Such is the cycle. But honestly, I was completely off all pain medication within 48 hours.

Let me tell you peeps, recovering from surgery was a breeze. Recovering from a life-long food addiction was one of the most difficult things I have ever done. In fact, because I take pride on being the best drama queen I can be, there were moments when I seriously questioned whether I would ever feel joy in my life again. If I couldn’t eat what I wanted when I wanted to eat it, what would my life possibly be like? In the required two-week resting period, I ran through an array of emotions, including complete despair.  No exaggeration, I would lay in bed and dream of food.

But within a week, I was down 10 pounds. And then 20. One day I woke up and realized food wasn’t the first thing I thought of. It got easier and letting go of the hold food had over me meant I had so much more time and energy for other things. I hate to be so serious here but after everything I had been through, I finally landed on an emotion I could embrace.

Gratefulness.

I am so grateful to the team at the Bingham Memorial Weight Loss Center for treating me with compassion and supporting me through one of the most difficult phases of my life. I can’t name names because there are too many but, let me tell you, I owe these people my life. They took an overweight, self-doubting and self-hating person and turned me into someone who can’t wipe the smile off her face.

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I feel like I have the rest of my life to live now instead of hiding away in my room. My husband and I took our girls to Lagoon last October and I actually rode the rides. Well, all of them that didn’t require me having a death wish. For the first time in ten years, I just enjoyed being at an amusement park instead of spending the day convinced people were staring at me.  It this experience plus hundreds of others that bring joy to my life instead of food. 

Weight Loss Surgery

When we last met up in this space, I spent time telling you all how I decided to have a vertical sleeve gastrectomy, which is a surgical procedure to permanently reduce the size of the stomach. A smaller stomach fills up faster, making you feel full before you start overeating.  Using surgical staples to section off most of your stomach, the surgeon creates a long vertical tube (or "sleeve") about the size of a banana and disposes of the excess stomach for good.

Sounds drastic? I never really thought so even when unknowing people tried to tell me it was. What scared me the most was realizing how devastating it would be to wake up sixty years from now and know I failed at something that I desperately wanted.

When the medical team at Bingham Memorial Hospital approved me for surgery, I was ready to show up and get it done. The next day.  

But it’s not that easy. There are appointments with nutritionists, sessions with counselors and weigh-ins with the surgeon. When you’re living it, it feels like a lot of time. But there’s a reason Bingham Memorial has so many successful weight-loss patients. A lifetime of poor food choices isn’t going to be solved with surgery. The team puts in the time to make sure you will have all the skills you needed.

Skills I had no idea how to get on my own.

The first time I met with the nutritionist, she told me I would have to pick up some new hobbies. I eagerly nodded my head, but I really had no idea what she was talking about. Until I took a step back and realized how much time I spent eating and thinking about food.

If you and I ever went to lunch together, you probably wouldn’t think my food intake was that much different than yours. Because I spent a lot of time gauging how quickly lunch companions were eating and making sure I matched them bite for bite.  Then I would calculate the time to my next meal and I would make sure I could eat what I wanted then. Or I would come up with a reason to leave early so I could eat again before my next commitment. Now you know why I desperately needed a new hobby.

When I met with the counselor, he asked me about my support system. Once again, I put a smile on my face but couldn’t really comprehend how this was important. Let me tell you peeps, how difficult this process would be if my family was not onboard or had opted to enable me instead of holding me accountable for my food choices. My husband read all the materials I brought home and adjusted his life to match mine. My girls have never once complained about eating differently.  I’m so grateful for their support. I’ve read horror stories online of people who didn’t have the support system and found the journey too difficult to continue.

Two weeks leading up to surgery, you have to go on a very intense liver-shrinking diet. It was not pleasant for me but I kept telling myself I could make anything work for two weeks. When I lost ten pounds, I was proud but I knew I could never continue that diet long term. On with surgery.

Finally, the big day arrived. I practically bounced into the hospital. My smile didn’t change until I woke up and semi confused on what happened.  Instead of explaining it to me, my husband just recorded me on his phone. Needless to say, the video isn’t pleasant for me but he’s found it to be great entertainment at family functions.  In the next issue, I’ll go over what it means to have a double-digit weight loss and how I’m living a life I never even thought possible.

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Weighed Down

It is 3:30 a.m. in the Burke house. Please understand I don’t typically crawl out of bed to write.  Or do anything for that matter.  I like sleep way too much. But today I need to see darkness outside my windows and have a house full of sleeping people because I feel like I’m entering sacred territory.

Sacred territory? This must be intense.

It is, peeps. It is. I’m going to let you in on my battle and lay it all out on the line.

The truth is that I’ve given food way too much power in my life for far too long and I don’t want to be that person anymore. I’m tired of being overweight. My mom passed away from complications of a stroke at 54 and she was at a healthy weight. What am I setting myself up for by not being healthy?

I promise I’ve tried as many weight-loss programs as I could: Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, LA Weight Loss. I know they work for some people but I’ve failed at every single one of them.

I’m so lucky to have a good friend who loves me enough to tell me she thinks bariatric surgery would be a good option for me.

We were sitting at her house, when she said, “You need to watch this Youtube video.” All of sudden, I was watching a young girl describe my life exactly.  She loved food so much it began consuming her life, always thinking about the next meal and scheduling her life around it.

In other words, living to eat instead of eating to live. A feeling I know very well.  

She took back her life by having a Vertical Sleeve Gastrectomy, which is a surgery that removes a large portion of your stomach.

After hearing her story, I decided to talk to my husband about it.  He reacted exactly like I thought he would, adamant that a diet change and intense exercise is the right way.

Sigh. I love my husband. But he falls under the I-quit-pop-for-a-week-and-lost-30-pounds category.

I’m much more of the I-quit-pop-for-forever-and-gained-four-pounds person.

If only life was fair.

Knowing I would need his full support, I was contemplating my next move when twelve hours later, he called me and was so overcome with emotion he could barely speak.

Away for work, he has been sitting in a hotel watching ESPN when a documentary came on. It was about a group of professional athletes who attempted to complete a workout with eighty pounds of extra weight strapped to them. In the beginning, the participants were critical of being overweight and, through the show, their voices changed to expressing kindness for those struggling with extra weight.

Watching this had completely changed my man’s mind on his wife pursuing a medically-supervised weight loss surgery.

Wow. Since my husband is obsessed with sports, I’m usually like, “Babe, you know you’re not on the payroll, right? Stop screaming at the TV because the Denver Bronco coaches don’t care what you think.”

But in this case, I was like, “Thanks goodness for ESPN. Watch some more.”

So the next step was to attend the free seminar at Bingham Memorial Hospital.

On my way, I almost chickened out. You see, being overweight has amplified my anxiety to new levels. I don’t want to put myself in any situation where I feel vulnerable. But my dear friend, who initially expressed concern for me, was riding shotgun and wouldn’t let me turn around. When I tried, she threatened to roll down her window, throw her arms out of the car and scream like she was being kidnapped. 

I am so thankful for good friends.

At the seminar, the doctor explains all of the surgical weight loss options and stayed until every question has been answered.

I can’t tell a lie. On the way home, I wept. 

I was so overcome with hope I couldn’t take it. Instead of speaking out of judgment, Dr. Medvetz spoke with compassion. When others look at you with disgust, he treated every single person in the room with kindness.

Take it from me, you don’t find that everywhere. It was in that moment, I decided to move forward with my own Vertical Sleeve Gastrectomy.

Am I scared? Yes.

But I’m more scared not to try.

If you want to watch my story in video form, go here: http://binghammemorial.org/katiesjourney