Fun for Me on the Old DL

What a huge thing to be forbidden trips to the Y, though I have devised this home workout you see on the left. (Yup that’s me in the red fur and sure the knots were a little hard to get right but it all works great now.) And wow are the days deliciously long with no Y-trip to schedule into the old workday! Plus it’s really quieted me down to be sittin’ on the bench here with an incision that looks like what you see stitched into a football, only uglier; a wound you have to tend every day, unwrap and air out and poke with a Vaseline-daubed Q-tip and all.

And so much for shorts and skirts with a dressing on my leg the size of a dinner napkin. I’m in so many pairs of jeans and long hippie dresses it feels like the 70s again. 🙂

Also I’m catching up on my sleep. I was in the bed ‘til ‘til 7:30 yesterday morning, a record for me. I did get up at 4am and make a quick tour of the house making improvements but that’s only because the leg hurts just enough to keep me in light-sleep mode.

I figure I might try eating less since I can’t exercise. When I was on the table and the surgeon was  wrapping my leg with a super-tight Ace bandage I said “I heard when you have liposuction they put you in this all-over bandage for a whole month while your tissues get over the shock of being Hoovered half to death, did you know that?”

She glanced up from her bandage winding to give me a bland noncommittal look. “I did know that. We do that here.”

Only then did realize I was actually ON the cosmetic surgery floor of this famous hospital just because everybody just assumes the sky will fall if they they have a regular scar, even on their lower leg where no one is ever going to notice it. Who knew I’d be  in the cosmetic surgery unit? I mean it’s not like I’m Tina Fey after having her cheek slashed by some crazy guy that’s for sure.

So I’m thinking hmmm …. Diet and exercise? Or the sucky thing and the body bandage after?  Diet and exercise or the sucky thing? It’s tempting to go with the latter but I figure with my home workout here and a little of what Jennifer Hudson and my WW pals call tracking I‘ll be ready for my close-up in no time  – from the knees up anyway. 

Belly-Up

beer-gut

I’m at the Starbucks at the Tampa airport looking for some caffeine after getting up at 4am to make my crack-of-dawn flight out of Boston  when two women in front of me have this exchange:

Woman One: “Why don’t I get my enormous BUTT out of the way so you can get in here?”

Woman Two: “You! I just spent an hour in my underwear in front of the liposuction man who said really what I needed was abdominoplasty! He took my belly-fat in his two hands like it was a Big Mac with this barely-disguised expression of disgust. I felt completely humiliated!”

Woman One: “Hey, be like me, save the money. I step naked in front of the mirror and just humiliate myself!”

My first thought: God I love travel. My second: In a million years you’d never catch a man running himself down like this. Most men I know  pat their beer guts and give them affectionate nicknames. So what on earth is wrong  with us females?