Thank You for Supporting the Joey Jog

Many of you sent emails in support of the Joey Jog, and I wanted to personally thank you for your support. Even in a down economy, the Jog was a success. A lot of money was raised for research and awareness.

This year we were lucky to have had a representative from the national office in attendance. His presence not only made our event gain in stature, but also showed the many volunteers that the American Liver Foundation is very much aware of the hard work put into making this event gain national recognition. Thanks, Ryan, for your support.

Having missed the event last year due to my recent surgery, it was great catching up with all the folks that have been on board since the beginning. The day couldn't have been more beautiful, and it was good to see so many families walking together. Joey's story has made everyone aware of how lucky a family is to have an illness free existence. I think every mother, father, brother and sister realized how easy it is to lose that which you love the most, and even though you may move on from the physical hurt, the pain in your heart never goes away.

Joey's two brothers and sister are thriving. The triplets were happily showing off their Halloween costumes that seem to so fit their unique personalities. The spunky one wanted to be a pirate, the only girl is indeed worthy of being deemed a "princess", and the once shy brother who is now the thinking little man, well, his choice of becoming a UPS delivery guy, cap and package included, just seemed to fit him perfectly. They were too little to remember their first Halloween with their big sister Joey, but through the love shared by the family, they are very much aware of her existence, and mention her often, and always with love in their voices.

It was also good to have had my first book signing and sales (all the money went to the Joey Jog). It was fun for me to think of something to write for each individual who wanted an autographed copy. For just a few minutes, I didn't feel like a 4-F SWF, but as a person that was successful because she actually DID something of note.

Why is it so hard for me to think of myself as a success? I don't know, but I know this:  I saw the looks people gave me on the airplane with the middle seat available... I knew what they were thinking.  I am always aware of not taking up more than my space, and have even cramped up from making sure I don't inconvenience anybody else. Funny how that didn't seem to be in THEIR thought process.

When I got home, waiting for me was one other sign that maybe I was experiencing a little bit of success. Seven boxes of my book were waiting for me to sell and market. Whoopee! Sell! Sell! Sell! I am an author.

Then I remembered it was Halloween Eve...

Spooky!

Joey Jog and ALF

Please excuse this slight detour as I tell you about something that has become near and dear to me. For those who have visited my website, http://www.cynthiaeckhart.com/ , you know a little about the reason I wrote the book and how it has affected those that I love.

If you are old enough to remember the TV show A.L.F. you will recall that Alf was an alien - of the space kind! For those of us in Joey's extended family, we have learned it has a far different meaning. See, in our family it stands for the American Liver Foundation. Although it gets very little recognition via all the media genres out there, it plays a vital role in our society. 

When Joey was barely two, she was struck with acute liver failure. Numerous tests could not determine the cause, and her only recourse became a liver transplant. Unfortunately, it never happened, and within two weeks of the showing of her first symptoms, Joey passed away. She had been number one on the liver transplant list nationwide, but the availability of viable livers is difficult under the best conditions and darn near impossible under emergency situations.

Friends of Joey and her parents organized a Joey Jog to honor her memory and help other liver patients. The Joey Jog and  the  American Liver Foundation not only aid in research to prevent and/or find a cure for liver failure, it also helps families that are waiting for their "turn" for a transplant. I may be a little prejudiced, but I think there needs to be more awareness of the need of organ donors in our mainstream society.

When I was undergoing treatment and surgery for my aneurysm, I thought a lot about death.  How sudden it can be. You equate suddenness with  maybe a car accident, but we forget about illnesses. I was almost 60, and I thought that I had least had opportunities to experience the world of the living. While I wasn't "ready" to die, I thought maybe it was my time. Joey didn't have that choice. Nor did she get to enjoy all the things other kids experience as they grow into adults. And, her parents, brothers, and sister didn't get to watch her grow and enjoy life. That, to me, is unfair, but it wasn't my choice. The only consolation that any of us have is the thought that God had a purpose for Joey's death, and that He would take care of her.

The more I think about it, I think that purpose was to spread awareness of the need of transplant research and organ donation. So, that is my purpose today. Visit the website http://www.joeyjog.org/. Read her story, and that of little Zack Mayo, another child in need of miracles. Contact your local American Liver Foundation office, and ask to volunteer. When you have to do that "voluntary" pledge for United Way, donate your money to a specific organization that helps those in need of transplants.

How does this all tie in to my lap-band surgery? Joey was the catalyst. Because of her a story was told about life and living, and the realization of what I needed to to to keep on living. Life is precious, and we should all take the steps needed to keep on living, and like Joey, to continue living after death.

Please become a volunteer and a donor. Most states allow you to list your desire to be a donor on your driver's license. If we all become donors, then think of the many lives that would be saved.

to learn more about Zack visit http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/wendymayo/mystory

The Couch and I

When I told my friends that I must visit with a psychologist as part of my insurance requirements, I got the usual comments. You are in so much trouble, girl. Are you going to tell him EVERYTHING? Bring Kleenex. No big deal, he ain't gonna tell you anything you haven't already figured out on your own.

By the day of the appointment, I was seriously contemplating a double martini, but decided that adding "lush" to my poor lifestyles probably wasn't a good thing. So I resisted the temptation, and drove to the meeting. I sang to the radio, trying to keep my mind off of what was to become.

I knew about the time I lost control of my life. It was the Christmas Eve right after Dad's death, when my mom decided that, at age 43, I should give up what little life I had in the city to come live with her in the country. At the time, I was ready for a change, but golly gee, I don't think I thought it all the way through. Not that it wasn't a good time in many ways, but certainly not what I had thought my life would turn out. I am sure that during the seven years I was taking care of my terminally ill mom was when my depression start.  The more she couldn't eat, the more I ate for her, and the more arguments we had about me losing weight. That darn cycle thing again! I didn't come to grips with her death until I put it all in my book, in black and white for all to see, that I understood it.

I could have just handed him the darn book. It would have explained "me" to him in detail. But noooo, I had to go sit on his stupid couch. While I was in the waiting room, I kept looking for the button or bell I was supposed to ring to announce my presence. There wasn't one. Well, that wasn't like in the movies...

He came to his office door and introduced himself.  I then proceeded to sit on "The Couch".  My hand instinctively went to my pocket to grasp the Kleenex.

But I didn't need it. Most of the questions were innocuous, just deep enough to get an idea of who I was. For an hour, he basically asked me all sorts of questions about my life up to this time; nothing about why I overate or anything to imply that I had gotten myself into this pickle. In fact, I was almost disappointed that I wasn't in tears, pouring my heart out for all the world to hear and pity.

What he DID tell me was that I would probably need his services after the surgery, as many people have difficulty with no longer being fat and the perceptions that family, friends, and strangers my have of you because you would be different. That will be interesting. Did being "thin" change who you were??

You mean I won't be a 4-F SWF anymore?? Bring it on!

Next stop: dietitian

Tuck or Squeeze? That is the Question!

My first meeting with the doctor that will do the procedure went well. He explained the various options I have. After discussing the pros and cons, I opted for the least invasive, the lap band. Having had so many surgeries the last 2 years, I didn't even wanna think about being under for a long period of time. I was glad to see that he had a weight loss amount that was the same as what I had in my mind.

I left with a ton of info from brochures to websites I needed to register on and visit/view their cd. I was very happy to hear that my insurance would cover it. Too bad I didn't remember that my year's deductible is from Sept to Aug... one of the perks of being a school teacher. So the thousand bucks I already had toward my share doesn't count. Oh well, the way I am dishing out money to get my book published, what is another thousand??

My insurance requires that I have a 90 day waiting period. During that time, I must document all the exercise I do/get, and horrors upon horrors, what I put in my mouth daily. I wonder if he would know I was lying if I put 2 pancakes instead of 3, or if he will believe me that it was an awfully little ribeye I noshed on last night?

OF COURSE HE WILL KNOW.... I AM A 4-F SWF.  I no longer have any secrets or any pride left. I will grovel any way I can to justify being fat.

But, believe it or not,  that is not my biggest worry. Having heart surgery, I am not afraid of the procedure. Nor am I afraid of the visit to the dietitian. I expected that, and have known for a long time that portion control was my biggest issue.

What I AM afraid of is the other person I have to meet with. I have to go see a freakin' psychologist. I know I am certifiable, but I have closely guarded this secret for many years. Now I am going to have to bare my soul to somebody on a couch with a box of kleenex nearby. I understand now why Charlie on Two and a Half Men was so reluctant to go.
I don't want to talk about my life's disappointments. I don't wanna talk about my former boyfriends and how dumb I was in my choices. I don't wanna verbalize my life!

I am a 4-F SWF. I know I have issues. Geez, can't he tell just by looking at me??

I think I am going to need a Xanax refill....