JUST CHECKING IN (part 2)

Look at this picture. Is it a unicorn? A real unicorn? The scientists – Italian scientists, I think -- quoted in the story say it’s a genetic mutation that they are studying in the laboratory.

You have to take my word for this I guess, but based on my 35 years in the newspaper business: IT’S A SCAM, YOU IDIOT! I can’t exactly tell you how it was done. Maybe they welded a horn onto a cow’s skull. But it is a fraud. Guaranteed. I’ve seen it before – but usually the ones perpetrated by Ringling Bros. are a little more artful.

But it is a scam – just like global warming, but on a smaller scale. (Incidentally, have you ever asked yourself exactly when Carbon Dioxide became a greenhouse gas? I always thought it was a natural part of Earth’s atmosphere, like nitrogen and oxygen. Plants need it to live. When did it become a bad guy? I’ve seen absolutely no scientific evidence at all that CO2 is contributing to the greenhouse effect.)

Sorry for the rant. It’s been a long week.

Incidentally, I’m weighing in at 252.8 lbs. It’s been steady for over a week now.

I also wanted to show you this pix of John McCain taken over the weekend. Reporters immediately asked if the dressing on his head were the result of another skin cancer operation. McCain laughed it off and said he had bumped his head on a car door. Fashion your seatbelts everyone, it’s going to be a rough campaign.

With that in mind, a brief acknowledgement to Cousin Marty: Our thoughts and prayers are with you and Phyllis. God bless both of you. That's the only important thing I have to say.

JUST CHECKING IN

I went to the hospital yesterday and had my post-op checkup and esophagram. I wasted five hours waiting for 5½ minutes of medicine but the results were so positive I could give a shit. Everything’s installed and working normally and I weighed in at 258 lbs! I believe that’s 50 lbs since the start of the liquid diet. Fifty pounds in five weeks. Life is good. I can do things I haven’t done in years – like tie my shoes without hassle, get up off the couch easily and walk up the stairs without losing my breath. And my knees don’t hurt anymore.

The most enjoyable result so far is that I’m about three feet back into the “thin clothes” sitting in my closet. I’ve had to change belts twice. But I’ve gotta keep in mind I’ve got a long way to go.

The next few weeks will be especially tough. I’m still on mushy foods but I’m cleared to go back to regular food this weekend. The challenge is that the lap band around my stomach hasn’t been activated yet. And it won’t be until the middle of July. Even though news the quote is from the doctor, I have to avoid believing it is now “party time.”

It could be a lot worse.

Anyway, here's something beautiful:

It's a lightning storm over an active volcano -- in the Andes, I think. No one knows why thunder heads form over volcanoes, though I suppose it has something to do with super-heated gas pouring out of the crater. But until someone figures it out, we can just enjoy the beauty of it.

And now here's the case of the worst of man repaired by the best of man.

Some stupid hunter, drunk I think, took a shotgun and shot down a bald eagle, blasting off its beak and leaving it to die a slow death.

But someone cared. They cared enough to capture the bird and keep it alive for months until it was strong again.

And some craftsman who cared worked long and hard to design and build a plastic beak that was tough enough for the bird to eat with.

And it didn't end there. Now that craftsman is working on a titanium model that can be permanently installed on the eagle.

Just when you think we couldn't get any lower as a species, you hear a good version of Beethoven's 9th symphony and things look a lot better. How could anything so stupid and clumsy conceive of something so brilliant and graceful?

I hardily recommend spending some quality time with old Ludwig van. If your life is so busy you can't find the time, just listen to the last movement. You'll be glad you did.

Good night everyone! Drive safely.

I'M HUNGRY! LET'S HAVE SOME FUN

It's been a week since the surgery and I seem to have temporarily plateaued at 262 lbs. And I'm hungry, tired and I feel a bit sorry for myself. Nothing seems to be shaking at least until I get my post-op X-ray and exam on Monday. So let's just fuck-off tonight and have some fun. Maybe I can forget how hungry I am and if they make someone else smile -- or even think -- we're all ahead of the game. I found these pictures during the past few days, and even though none of them have anything to do with food, I thought you might get a kick out of a few. Here goes...

Above: Our founder and hero

Above: This is such a great photo that it doesn't really need any explanation. It's sort of like watching a car accident, isn't it? Actually, it's what happens when a drunk driver plows into an oncoming bike race in Mexico. I don't know why the idiot was drinking at 8 a.m. All I know is they called off the race.

Above: I don't know why this picture fascinates me. I'm not sure if I should be so obsessed with it. It's Barack Obama (on the right, with the ears) when he was seven with his mother, step-father and their daughter in Indonesia. It makes me want to know a lot more about Obama's late mother -- beyond the story he tells all the time about how he watched as she died of cancer and how it inspired him to come up with his plan for universal health care. I also look at her and see a new industry if her son is elected president.

A PROMISED ACCOUNTING

MONDAY (+ 3 days) – Okay, I’m gonna do it. I'm finally going to release those long-secret numbers and admit how fat I had become.

I didn’t go to work today because I just couldn’t get it together. I’m going to get there tomorrow and stay there as long as possible.

But I promised you I’d come clean here. At my worst point, October 2007, I was a bloated and miserable 332 pounds. The number that popped up on the scale at Dr. A’s office stunned me. “Can’t be true,” I thought. Right away, I started with the excuses. The steroids. The chemo. The insulin. My genes. My big fat stomach and even bigger mouth.

But it wasn’t until Dr. R, the Wizard, gave me a good old-fashioned bitch-slap that shoved me into motion. He said I should take “a years vacation from cancer doctors and just lose weight.” He said if I dropped 100 pounds or more, “85 to 95 percent of what your complaints would go away.”

No scare tactics, just the cold logic of the truth that woke me up.

I immediately started the long process of getting approval for the surgery I had last Friday. At the same time I changed some eating habits – mostly salads at lunch and Marcia helped me with smaller portions at home.

By February, I broke the 300 pound mark and by the time I finally got the go-ahead from Dr. F, I was at 296. But following Dr. F’s advice, I put off the operation until after my 60th birthday and Florida vacation in April. I used that time to have some great last meals/feasts. By the time I started my pre-surgical period, I was up to 308.

Two weeks later, I was 269 when I walked into the operating room. This morning, I weighed in at 262.

That’s a total of 70 pounds lost – so far.

My goal is 200. So I’m a little more than half-way. Actually, I’d like to get to 180, then celebrate with a week in Paris and settle at 200 and see how life is. The changes are already incredible.

WE’RE BACK. IT’S DONE.

SUNDAY (+ 2 days) – First of all, I’m sorry I haven’t added to the blog for a critical few days but it’s been a little strange. Allow me to explain.

Friday was paced on hospital time. Marcia got me there promptly at 6 am and even though the same clerks were on duty and greeted me “Not you again!” we still had to fill out the same paperwork we filled out 24 hours earlier. It was 6:45 before the anesthesiologist showed, looked at our tests results and said we could be operated on. Dr. F, the surgeon, rolled in around 7:15, He had on a freshly pressed gray suit and a pink dress shirt unbuttoned to the waist and at the cuffs, He asked about the anesthesiologist and then said “Cool.”

I walked unassisted into OR #3 at exactly 7:45. It was unusually cold but they quickly put a warm blanket over me. A quick prick on the top of my left hand and the next thing I know I was in a nice warm, bigger room and Nurse Nancy was talking to me.

“Is it over?”

“It’s over,” she said. “It went very smoothly.”

“What time is it?”

“9:30.”

“Can I see my wife?”

Seconds later, there was Marcia. I can’t remember seeing anyone so beautiful. I tried to give her a huge smile. She was with Joan. They were both kicked out of the recovery room too few minutes later. I wasn’t transferred to a recovery unit on the 13th floor until about 1 pm. The nurses there were all professional but they all warned I would be released the following morning.

From the beginning the pain was tolerable. In the beginning, whatever they gave me when I complained, more than did the trick. So far, it’s gotten better every day. Dr. F finished a long day of surgery and showed up in the ward at 7 pm. Wearing exactly the same outfit (yeah, right down to the unbuttoned shirt cuffs) he took one look at me and said: “Marc, you look cool. Go home. Get out of here.”

I was gone before they had a chance to give me all the necessary prescriptions.

Back home, Marcia has been a Saint e. There’s no way I would have survived without her support.

I slept until 4 pm Saturday. I slept until 2 pm today. I expect to go to work tomorrow. (It depends when I can wake up and get dressed.)

I feel better every day. And, oh yeah, I weighed in at 263.4 lbs, today.

Tomorrow, I think I’ll have the nerve to give up a complete accounting.