Donation Station

Being poor SUUUUUUUUCKS.

I really took so much for granted over the past decade or so. Life is just very, very different when I can't reach for my credit card to solve any problem. It's been kinda nice that I've been forced to eat at home (and I have truly been eating like a depression-era peasant...I've gotten extremely creative with nothing much more than a potato). But it's crazy not being able to swing into Starbucks for a quick caramel frappachino, or to the bar for a shot when a friend is in town. It's been embarrassing making excuses not to hang out because I can't afford the gas to get there, or dinner or drinks or whatever we were meeting for. Now, I literally find myself questioning if I'm using more toilet paper than necessary, and wondering about the legal hurdles keeping me from shutting off my utilities and living with kerosene lamps and an outhouse.

Seriously, though, I had to be very, very, very desperate to consider plasma donation. Not because it's inherently risky—it's not—but because my personal health history makes me a really terrible candidate, and my immune system is 100% not adequately prepared to keep me alive through this. Their screening process is designed to keep people like me from donating due to the risks to our health, but I have honestly never been this desperate for money. Even during that brief period between semesters in college when Rob and I squatted in an abandoned house and bought cigarettes with pennies, I still felt more financially stable than I do right now. So, yeah, I'm fucking desperate. And it's quite clear that the other donors are also not being entirely truthful for the sake of remaining eligible, but the instant cash for a relatively painless couple of hours is more than enough incentive to lie. I'm just not certain that the money is worth what my body is going through.

I've felt like I've had a cold basically since the first session, and after each donation I crash for the rest of the night and usually the entire following day as well. When I donate on Wednesday, that means I'm a zombie basically until I wake up Friday, but Friday is designated as my second donation day of the week. So I go again, and end up feeling like crap until Sunday. From Sunday until Wednesday I feel "okay", and then the cycle starts again. But I don't really feel totally "okay", ya know? By then, my arm is less sore and the bruising around the injection site has disappeared, but the constant slight head cold has kept my throat sore, my eyes dry, and my nose running. I even have a scab on my nose behind my septum ring from where I've been blowing with cheap toilet paper instead of the Puff's Plus with Lotion that I never fully appreciated before.

The donation itself isn't exactly fun—you're trapped there with the needle in your arm as it sucks out your blood, then spins it in a centrifuge to remove the plasma. While the blood is being sucked out, the blood pressure cuff is constantly as tight as it will go, and you have to keep pumping your fist like you're milking your own udders. Then the centrifuge brakes and the cuff loosens, and you have to sit still while the machine pumps your plasma-less blood back into your body. NOT a great feeling. This cycle happens over and over until they have a full liter bottle of plasma, maybe 5 or more cycles. At the end, your final blood round is mixed with saline, and it's pumped back in while you freeze to death and hourly workers pull out the IVs and put cash on your card.

My next donation is Wednesday, and I'll only get $25 for it. But my boyfriend and I have talked about the idea of me being a camgirl, so hopefully something will come of that before I let the plasma center suck the rest of my life out. Not sure how much of a market there is for pudgy camgirls with stretch marks and low self esteem, but I'd rather find out than risk getting the plague from the plasma center.

OVERWEIGHT and SO happy about it!

I am OVERWEIGHT! For the first time in my LIFE! And I am absolutely fucking ecstatic about.

Lemme explain. Remember those stupid fucking BMI charts from health class or the doctor's office? The charts that look at your age, sex, and height only and assign you to a "healthy" weight range based upon these extremely limited variables? No accounting for muscles, for curves, for ethnicity, for irregular body shapes...just a totally cut-and-dry chart. I know calculating your BMI in front of your entire class is a horror shared across the country by chubby boys and girls, who decades later can feel the peculiar texture of classroom chalk held in clammy hands and who can remember being cruelly but undeniably classified as "obese". Well, with a few years and determination, I made it from Obese all the way to Morbidly Obese (a classification that didn't exist back in the day...a little sad that America needed to Supersize the BMI table).

A size LARGE dress
from the thrift store!
And sexy shoes too!

Now, for the first time in my adult life, I am Overweight! Goodbye, Obese! Hello, Overweight! I never ever thought I'd be so thrilled to be called overweight, but if it means that I'm no longer obese, I'll take it!

The gastric sleeve surgery really did wonders for my body. Surgery was 7/11/16 and I went from a highest weight of 317 (closer to 280 at the time of the surgery) to my current 191 pounds. Yep, I'm UNDER 200 pounds! Nerds People on the gastric sleeve message board call it "One-derland" which sounds ridiculously stupid yet I definitely feel a bit like Alice, shrinking in a body I don't fully recognize. It's awesome and I'm not complaining, but it is a strange feeling.

I also lost my job last November as part of a massive lay-off. I'd been there 9 1/2 years and now I REALLY have no idea what I want to do with my life. I have a great boyfriend who works from home (my home) so I have been actively avoiding returning to the real world. I blew my severance, cashed in my 401k and blew through that too (although I did take an incredible solo cruise to Mexico) and the suddenly realized I was TOTALLY FUCKED. I was just spending money like crazy, buying all kinds of ridiculous stuff on Amazon now that I can wear "normal" sizes, and then it seemed like I blinked and every penny was gone.

Now I'm desperately selling off my collections through eBay and Etsy (check out the shops! Adding more stuff every day!). I also set up a locked display case at a local flea market, hoping to sell some of the stuff that's more expensive to ship. One of my friends actually went in today and bought my vinyl album, "Harmonicats" :D Hey, $20 is $20! I tried filing my taxes but it turns out that I screwed myself even more royally by cashing out my 401k—even though they took taxes out, apparently it wasn't enough. So I can't count on a tax return this year. My roof if leaking, I just got a letter from the city that I need to connect my water to the city main and disconnect my sewer by April 12th, and EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. of my bills if past due.

So I'm hoping eBay/Etsy/my flea market shop will help, plus I filed for unemployment (which I should have done MONTHS ago when I was fired) and am just waiting on that debit card. I cashed in all of my stock from the company I worked for (seriously, fuck them.) and that check should be in the mail. Also, I'm donating plasma. It's kinda horrible actually, and I had to stretch the truth a bit to meet the eligibility requirements, and each time I feel really drained and empty and exhausted and kinda like I want to cry. But the initial payments are so high ($50, then $60, back to $50, then $60, then $75 on your 5th draw of the first month) that it's gotta be worth it. After the introductory rates, they go down to $25 and $45 each week, and although I just had my 5th draw I am very aware that my immune system is crashing hard, so I somehow doubt this will be the Big Hustle that's gonna help me pay my bills. On the other hand, it's better than nothing.

And one other good thing about the plasma center, other than the money: they weigh me each time, and every time it's under 200 pounds I wanna take my shirt off and swing it around my head in victory :P Oooh, and here's something that'll mean something to my pudgy comrades: they actually said the beige blood pressure cuff was too big and used the blue one instead! I still can't believe how strange (but good, definitely good) it feels to be "Overweight". That just seems like such a far cry from "Obese". I mean, I bought size 12 Gap jeans. I wear 6" stilettos everywhere because my feet no longer hurt from putting so much weight on such small heels. I wore a bikini in public on the cruise ship—not a fat girl high-wasted bikini but a sexy-ass "suit" that consisted of long band of black material and small black bottoms. And dammit, I looked GOOD! I went kayaking and didn't have to worry about being too fat to row myself back to the beach. I've been hit on by more strangers lately than I ever have been in my life. I took 4 separate airplane flights and did not get a single panicked or disgusted look from the fellow passengers in my rows. I can sit with my feet tucked under me without losing circulation in my legs. I can rest my chin on my knee! How many of you guys thought that was just a myth? Like just a writing device or something that couldn't be physically possible? It IS possible. I am so much more flexible...and I can bend in ways during sex that I never dreamed of...

So yeah, being overweight has its perks. I have a long way to go before my weight is technically "Normal" according to the BMI calculator but, seriously, fuck the entire BMI system.

TL;DR: I'm totally legit broke but almost a normal sized human for the first time ever!

Pureed Food Heaven

**This post was originally from 7/18/2016 or so...I just totally forgot to publish it, and then my life turned into a freakin tire fire and I didn't publish anything else again until...well, now.**

I have never been so happy to eat mush in my entire life.

I'm finally on Week 2 of my gastric sleeve post-op diet, and so progressed to pureed foods yesterday. Thank goodness, because I was (not so) slowly losing my mind on full liquids only.

My mom took me to the store yesterday (I'm still not supposed to drive until I see the doctor for my first follow-up visit on Thursday--they want to make sure my stomach muscles are healed enough to hit the brakes in an emergency, and I should hopefully be off the painkillers by then). I stocked up on all kinds of awesome food to make the meals I'd planned this week. I was panicking a little bit, though, because I have pretty much made up my mind to go from vegetarian to vegan after my pureed food stage, and I realized how much of my cart was animal-based. I bought eggs, fat free sour cream, low fat ricotta, jello, shredded 2% cheddar, yogurt, greek yogurt pops, whey protein drinks, and 1% milk. That's a lot of dairy. To go from that to nothing is, well, a little intimidating.

The other thing holding me back from becoming a vegan is admittedly kinda dumb but I don't know how to get over it. I'm afraid it'll make me even more undateable. That is, less likely to find someone willing to put up with me. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I've already had issues with people (guys more than girls) commenting during the first date that it would be difficult to be with a vegetarian. My ex-boyfriend actually lists it as one of the main reasons we didn't work out. In fact, I asked him about it while we hung out this evening (to watch the first few episodes of Stranger Things, which is SO GOOD! It's shot really well, the music is AWESOME, the lighting and style is super cool, and of course the plots/characters drew me in too). He said that most of his favorite camping meals, dinners to cook at home, and restaurants he loves are all centered on meat. Like, I don't care about that. I even took him to Fogo De Chao which is basically a meat ballet and I didn't bat an eye. But I guess it was just one more thing stacked against me. So what if I become vegan and then REALLY can't find anyone who wants to be with me? I know you're not actually supposed to say this, and you're supposed to have the 'right reasons' to lose weight and shit, but let's be honest: most of the reason I wanted to have gastric surgery and lose weight is so that I'll be hotter and land a good mate. I want to make myself MORE dateable.