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Bianca Just Being Bianca S

Welcome! Bienvenue! Willkommen! Aloha! Salve! Bem-vido! Welkom! Bonvenon! Welcome to Being Bianca S, the site formerly known as Just Bee You.

BiancaLogoYippee Skippy! I am beyond super excited about this new direction and the opportunities that it brings. After a lot of time away thanks to Frankie, I had an Oprah light bulb moment. Sometimes you have to take a step back to go forward. And I am ready to move! Why was I just limiting myself to one thing? Why was I so focused on fitness when I am so much more? Well honey child, those days are over! Being Bianca S will be all about me, my fitness journey and accountability groups, knitting exploits, and of course #singlegirlproblems has made the leap over to its new home (how could I leave that behind!). Also in the works are such epic blogs as: “What’s in my ears?” (playlist and music choices), Top 10 lists (oh the choices! Expect epic randomness), and whatever comes to mind or happens to me on any given day.

But this is not just about me, even though the site is called Being Bianca S. This site is for you too! I am excellent at sharing! If you have a topic you want to discuss, my thoughts on a particular issue, or is you would like t be a guest blogger, drop me at line at bianca@beingbiancas.com (that felt so weird, yet so cool to type).

So there you have it. I’m making sure that all the T’s are crossed and I’s are dotted, and still fine tuning this bad boy so things may move, shift, and randomly appear. But I just wanted to shout from the rooftops that my baby blog has been reborn! I am such a proud mommy right now (Don’t tell the fur kids).

So sit back, fasten your seat belt, and get ready for the wild ride that Being Bianca S. will be!

Later Days,

B

On The Road To Recovery

You really take for granted the simple things in life like going to the bathroom or getting out of bed until you can’t do them as you once could, but I’ll get to that later.

This post will contain a lot of medical lingo and stuff, so if that isn’t your cup of tea, feel free to speed read through those parts.

I actually got some sleep on Monday, which is shocking because I had a heard time keeping it together when I left for work. Everything was coming together. I was really going into the hospital for surgery. I really was going to be out of work for a month or more. Shit was going down.

Tuesday… S-Day. I remember a lot clearly. I remember finally getting everything together heading out the door for the ride to my parents. What is the one thing you don’t want to drive behind when you are about to go the hospital? A hearst. Yup, this actually happened to me. It wasn’t for the entire drive, but long enough to make me frazzled.

I remember the ride to the hospital. Getting checked in. The hurry up and wait. The lovely hospital gown, socks and compression cuffs. I remember the IV. This was what I was most afraid of. My nurse made me laugh and I remember the I sweet relief when she said it was in. One stick! I remember people asking my about my high blood pressure, my EKG, which showed a minor blip. Nothing major, but something that needs to be checked on. I remember seeing my doctor, kissing my mom and being wheeled of to the OR. I remember the brightness of the hallway and t that his is not a time to go towards the light, but that seemed to be all that was in front on me. Bright lights and windows.

I remember sliding onto the table, the nurse telling me they were going to give me the good stuff, my arm being placed on an arm rest, the sound of velcro and off to dream land I went.

When I woke up, 3 hours later, I was in the recovery room. There were so many people and sounds. I just wanted to see. I didn’t have my glasses so everything was blurry. The nurse brought my mom back and as she dug around her bag, I croaked out “Really”. At that point I knew I was going to be ok. I remember the first time my hand grazed my incision (small it is not). Finally my room was ready and it was time to move to my bed. Slowly but surely, I slid over and was wheeled off to my accomodations. I remember the sexy radio voice that I had, taking to my family and friends. I remember every two hours, people were coming in taking my vitals and emptying my folio (I had a catheter). I would does off and wake up 20 minutes later, I couldn’t stay awake.

I remember the worst night sleep of my life, being woken up by a couple of residents coming in at 5:30am to check my incision, ask if I had passed gas or gone to the bathroom, and regal me of ways to lower my blood pressure. I remember the lovely nurse removing my catheter, and my first experience with Room Service. Seriously, you call in your order and your hostess brings it up to your room. Ingenious. I remember the first time I got out of bed. Talk about an experience. I must say, I never realized how easy it was to get out of bed until it took me all of my energy and then some just to sit on the edge of the bed. The first few steps were not as bad as I thought. I was shaky at first but was soon hobbling my way to the bathroom. Who knew the ability to use the bathroom would be a relief to not only the nurses, but myself as well.

I remember feeling better with each passing moment. Realizing that the human body is amazing. I remember the first time I spoke with my doctor about the surgery, How she told me that my blood pressure spiked for no clear reason. How 5 fibroids were removed. Apparently Frankie had friends living with him that were not on the lease. I remember the shock when she told me that I had lost a liter of blood and Frankie was the size of a baby’s head. I remember her telling me that I can still have kids (my mother was relived to hear that I’m sure), but I would have to have a C Section (Fine by me). I remember my first laps around the nurse’s station. How walking really does get things moving and the second feeling of relief when I passed gas (yeah TMI I know)

I remember Friday morning when my doctor told me that I could home, how I swiftly (not  really) got dressed, packed my bag and waited for the nurse to come with my discharge papers. I remember the joy when the nurse finally removed my IV. I remember how weird it felt to leave in a wheelchair, the first time the air hit my face when I exited the hospital. I remember how happy I was to kiss and hug my puppy and finally have some peace and quiet.

I remember the RNs, PCTs, Doctors, and hospital staff who took such great care of me.

So here I am, almost a week post surgery, and I feel great. I don’t walk too hunched over anymore and getting out of the bed is getting easier every morning. And I actually feel like putting pants on today. Sweatpants. I do get tired easily, but I just have to remember to take it slow.

One day at a time.

Later Days.
B

What I know For Sure…..

 

In my Oprah voice… What I know for sure, having a sarcastic sense of humor
is definitely helping my come to grips with the fact that in a few hours, I
will be splayed out on the operating table.

What I also know for sure, don’t eat a lot of salt and not drink water
before going in for pre-admission testing, but more on that later.

Last Monday was pre-opp day, or “sign your life away day”. I
spent the better part of my afternoon signing consent forms, vitals and blood
taken, and playing an awesome game of hurry up and wait.

First stop, my GYN. We went over the surgery, how Frankie and his lovely
companions will be removed. Blah, blah, blah, and finally then questions came.
How long will it take? Will I need stitches removed? How long will I be out of
work for? For the first time ever, I didn’t have to get dressed after we were
done. A quick elevator ride and it was off to Pre-Admission testing, the last
stopper before my surgery next week. After waiting for what seemed like
forever, I was finally called back to the desk. I was asked to verify
information, give names of people who will be able to call the Nurse’s station
and sign more forms. Then off to the exam room. My blood pressure was taken yet
again and it was still high. The nurse asked me if I was anxious. And with a
smile and twinkle in my eyes I said, ” Why yes, I am in a hospital talking
about surgery.” Her reply, ” You are going home today. There is
nothing to worry about”. Can someone please tell me if anyone has normal
blood pressure when they go to the doctor? Mine is always high and the doctors
and nurses look at me like I am about to explode. I do not have high blood
pressure, just serious aversion to doctor’s offices and hospitals.
Anyway, it was only after my appointment that I realized that I had grits,
with a lot of salt, coffee, and orange juice or breakfast, which along with my
anxiety, could have caused my pressure to go through the roof. Note to self…
don’t ever do that again.

Anyway, while going over reservation form (yes, they call surgery a
reservation. Who knew), Nola, the wonderful Nurse Practitioner noticed a
discrepancy in my form. Here is a piece of the conversation:

Nola: What procedure are you having done?

Me: Exploratory, open myomectomy

Nola: You are not having an ovary removed?

Me: Excuse me? No I am not.

Nola: It says right here but not which one

Me: I am not having an ovary removed

Nola: Let me call your doctor’s office to confirm….

Let’s just say that didn’t help my blood pressure go down. After an EKG,
another blood pressure check, and “day of” instructions, it was time
to have my blood taken. Zakia was amazing and we laughed about the number of
vials that she was going to take. She said that she was not going to drain me
and she would leave me enough to drive home. After a pleasant, as much as a
blood draw can be pleasant, she wrapped my arm in a stylish ace bandage instead
of that God-awful white tape. I felt pretty fancy.

Then
there was the conversation that I was waiting for. My chit chat with the
anesthesiologist. He is not going to be my doctor on game day, just the one
that was on call during my appointment. He explained to me the entire “general
anesthesia” process, which is pretty intriguing:

 

Doc:
When you come in, we will put monitors on you to check your heart, a clip on
you to measure the oxygen in the blood. Then we will put an IV in your hand,
and give you Propofol

Me:
Wait… isn’t that what they gave Michael Jackson?

Doc: Yes,
but luckily for you, Dr. Murray won’t be in the room. Propofol has been used in
general anesthesia for years and you must be monitored and watched. I don’t
have a clue what he was thinking.

Me:
Great

Doc:
Because you will be asleep, we will put a breathing tube in your throat.

Me: I’ll
be asleep when they put the tube in?

Doc:
Yes. You will be asleep when we put the tube in and take it out. You breathe in
a mixture of oxygen and anesthesia which will keep you asleep during the
procedure. Once the doctor says that she’s finished, we remove the tube, and
your body naturally starts to wake up. This usually takes about 10-15 minutes.

Me: I
didn’t realize that you wake up so quickly.

Doc:
Yes. Some people wake up in the operating room. Some wake up in the hallway.
Some people wake up in the recovery room. That about covers everything so if
that sounds like a plan, please sign here.

Me: I
guess I better sign since I don’t want you cutting me while I’m awake.

After
one more signature, Frankie’s fate was sealed.

In a few hours, Frankie will be served with his papers…. And I will be on the
road to recovery.

 

#singlegirlproblems

I attend a bi-weekly happy hour of politically minded people in Philadelphia during the summer. It’s a chance to catch up with friends, meet new people, and unwind after a crazy day of work, and raise money for a charitable organization. It is also the perfect place, if you’re me, to watch the social interactions to figure out why you’re still single.

This happy hour is a melting pot of young, old, professional, and not really professional people coming out for a common cause. You have your core group (me included) that come out to each event and others who come and go. There is no guessing what the room will look like.You would think that I would be able to talk to someone right? I did last week, but not before this lovely interaction that I have titled…The Old Men and The Preschoolers. Please enjoy…

I arrived the happy hour early, but I do so for logistical purposes. I get one drink and an appetizer in before the crowd attacks the bar and it takes forever to get served. This also gives my time to secure a prime observation point (table) for my group to survey the area. I noticed 3 attractive men had sat down at the table right next to me. “Jackpot!!” I think to myself. “Today is the day that my faith in  Cupid’s golden arrow is restored.” Let’s just say that chubby cherub has not made his way back on my Christmas card list.

These three men chatted among themselves, not even giving me a second look. I was about to be bold and strike up a conversation when three “women”(they were ridiculously young) approached their table and were immediately invited to join the conversation. WTF times infinity?!? Was I that horrid looking or was I just above their age range. Now I am all Jane Goodall Gorillas in the Mist intrigued about the sight beside me. I was slightly hurt by their objection until one of the gentleman came back with a blue drink. Yes, it was blue. Like bright ass blue. I have not had anything blue to drink since I shared a fish bowl with someone at Ice Night Club. I silently thanked them for not paying attention to me and continued my scientific observation. Yet, I was jealous when the same mane brought a round of drinks for the wee lasses. Call it instinct.

The older man was trying to have a collegiate conversation with a toddler while sipping a spiked juice box. Is this what I have to compete with? My ovaries just shriveled up. Maybe it’s time to start thinking about freezing my eggs. I know how what bra to wear with a strapless dress! Yes ladies, hold up the girls! But I digress. Seriously do have to start dating older because men my age are scoping potential life partners at the playground?

Does my resting bitch face serve as a fortress for any potential suitors? I know, everything is written on my face. Trust me. If you think someone said something funky, just look at my face. You’ll know right away. If anyone knows a cure for RBF, please let me know! Thanks in advance.

As soon as ALL of my faith in humanity was almost flushed down the toilet of life, an acquaintance and I started chatting, and full disclosure, the talking turned into flirting. And it was fun!!! And here’s the kicker…. he’s younger than me!

Hey, if those three guys can talk to younger women, hell, I’m going to talk to a younger man.

BOOM!

Later Days
B

Refresh Day 2

Another Refresh Day in the books! Day 2 went a lot smoother than the first, but that is to be expected. There was one minor set back, but we will get to that later.

I must say drinking a glass of water in the morning certainly revs up the metabolism. I would wait until I was just about to leave for work to drink. Not anymore… out of bed, feed the dog, drink water!

And since we are on the topic of liquids. One pressing question might be,”how does this stuff taste?” A good question indeed. I still had my Strawberry Shakeology in the morning with either blueberries or pineapples. It tastes like a ray of tropical sunshine. Seriously it is so good, it is hard to believe that it is vegan! And the Vanilla Refresh that you drink at lunch and dinner? I swear it tastes like birthday cake! It is a little too sweet for me since I am not a sweets person anymore. You could tone it down mixing in some fruit in a blender, but since I don’t have a blender at work…. Straight up it is!

Fiber Sweep does exactly what you think it does so there is no need to go into further detail. There is a trick . You have to drink it fast or else!!! Seriously, there is no sipping the sweep! Trust me on this one. Since it is made up of soluble and insoluble fiber it is a bit pulpy. If you don’t think about it, you won’t notice it. It also has a lemony (is that a word) flavor which is very refreshing. It’s a small amount, so 5-6 big gulps and it’s done.

Almost forgot about my minor set back. I was so excited for my lunch of grapes, carrots, and Vanilla Fresh that I almost had a heart attack. I forgot my grapes at home!! Dude, that 3/4 cup of grapes was a third of my lunch!! Without those grapes… I might starve! I made a audible gasp and starting talking out loud about my horrible situation. But luckily Trader Joe’s came to the rescue. I waited in line for 5 minutes for 1 apple. That’s right. No popcorn, no chips. Just one lone apple that would save me from starvation, and it did. Talk about having a plan and sticking to it!

I was so busy dropping my mom’s dog off at the sitter and packing for vacation that I only had time to have a Vanilla refresh for dinner. It got the job done!

In my Les Mis voice… ONE DAY MORE!!!

Later Days
B

Refresh Day 1

Day 1 is in the books and I survived! It was a lot easier than I thought, even though I felt like I was smelling pizza and fries everywhere. Maybe that’s part of the detox process or just my detox process.

I will admit, I did feel a wee bit hungry between lunch and dinner. I already drank my water for the day (1 whole gallon) so I chewed on some gum for a little bit. That did the trick.
Let’s get one thing straight… there is no way to get dehydrated on the cleanse. You are drinking so much fluid. 8 oz of water in the morning, 8 oz of water with the fiber drink, 20 oz water for both meal shakes, on top of your daily water intake. I need to count how many calories I burn walking back and forth from the bathroom. LOL.
Unlike some cleanses, like Beachbody’s Ultimate Reset, which I am dying to try, you can workout. So T25 Cardio went down. Hop squats are not my jam… Cleanse and workout at the same time? Yes, please.
And…  I am eating, just in smaller portions and no meat, carbs, or dairy! No liquid cleanse here. Cucumber Tomato salad is the best thing ever!!!!  Or maybe the best think last night since it was the most solid food I had all day.
So there you have it. My Day 1 3-Day Refresh recap.
Short, sweet, and straight to the point!
Just like me!
Later Days.
B

Death to Frankie

Well it finally happened. Someone asked me if I was pregnant… I chuckled and and said I had too much food at lunch, but it shook me. Did I really look pregnant? See for yourself…

Yeah…..

To be absolutely clear, I AM NOT PREGNANT! Please do not start any rumors people. This is all Frankie, the not so little bastard. And I was sucking my gut hard when I took the picture. It seems that as I get smaller, Frankie appears bigger. See what I am up against? It’s been about a month since I began my vigorous vitamin regiment to rid him from his happy home. However, he is putting up quite the fight as you can clearly see. But Rome wasn’t built in a day and it is obvious that it will take some time to win the war over Frankie. And I am prepared to fight.

Youtube and Pinterest can be extremely helpful and a great way to lose hours of your day scrolling and searching for everything under the sun. They are quite addictive. After a lot of clicking, watching, and reading, I did find some additional weapons of Frankie’s destruction.

I ran out and got a different brand of DIM (Women’s Way – the one suggested by shrunkfibroids.bolgspot.com) and red clover extract. A woman posted a Youtube video about how she shrunk her fibroids will red clover alone. Her stomach looked like mine and is now flat. I have nothing else to lose, what’s another 2 pills on top of the 9 I am already taking? Plus, my doctor added Vitamin D to the mix. Grand total….11. You would think swallowing pills would get easier, but no. It’s still a struggle. Especially if I am running late. And the two big horse pills that smell do not help. I think I have reached my pill quotient so that’s it for the oral supplements. This is in addition to becoming vegetarian. It’s a lot, but you see what I am up against right! I gotta bring out the big guns.

Another Youtube score.. castor oil packs. You basically take a washcloth soaked with castor oil, wrap it in plastic wrap (the pack), take the pack and place it over your uterus and warp your stomach in plastic wrap and then place a hot water bottle over the pack for 20 minutes to an hour. Haven’t tried this yet. Still have to get a hot water bottle and cloth, but I am intrigued. The castor oil to supposed to rid the body of toxins and breakdown the fibroid tissue, shrinking it. Again, Frankie ain’t getting any smaller, so why not give it a shot.

For now it’s loose fitting shirts and high waisted bathing suits to hid Frankie. Most websites say that for larger fibroids (Frankie is currently the size of a grapefruit – large), it will take 3 months to shrink.

Here’s hoping and praying that I win the war… Frankie is going down.

Later days
B

It’s My Party… Well Not Yet At Least

First off, I want to say THANK YOU!!!!! My blog has over 1,000 lifetime views!! Thank you to each and every one of you that have just stopped by or are regular readers. It means so much to me that you take time out of your busy day to take a peak into my crazy life. Smooches and Gracias!

With that being said…. Back to the nuttiness (is that even a word? It is now!) that is my life.

I have a “special” birthday coming up in January. Yup, this girl (can I still call myself a girl?) is officially entering her mid-30’s in 6 months. Excuse me while I curl up in the fetal position and devour a pint of ice cream. Where did the time go? How did this happen? I am no where near where I want to be (#singlegirlproblems) in life. Ok, let me stop right now before I have a full-blown panic attack in front of this computer. Yes, I am not where I want to be, but I can still celebrate my birthday right?!? But how….

Well there’s the problem. I don’t know how!! You only turn 35 once so why not make a big deal out of it, but what is this girl to do. My ideas range from taking a trip, having a nice dinner, planing a sleepover, going out to a club, throwing a party, or staying at home by myself with a bucket of chicken, a 12 pack of Coors Light, ice cream and the several Muppet movies. As usual, I am all over the place and do not see myself coming in for a landing any time soon.

And timing is not in my favor. My birthday falls smack in the middle of MLK weekend, when a lot of people take trips, possibly diminishing my guest list. Le sigh… Back to the bucket ‘o KFC I guess…

So like all big decisions in my life (not all, but it seems like a lot since I started blogging), I’m leaving this one up to you, well not entirely up to you guys. But I do need some direction. Well one direction… (sorry had to go there. It was too easy).

What do you thing I should do for my birthday? I will gladly take suggestions (and give credit) as long as they are clean, ethical, legal, and do not require bail money.

So put you thinking caps on and go!

Your assistance is greatly appreciated! And thanks again for reading!!

Later Days!
B

#singlegirlproblems

Thanks to C. Bug for commenting on my last #SGP post!  I know it was a while ago. Sorry about that 🙁 But thanks to her comment, I have decided to be bold and take action to solve my #singlegirlproblems. That’s right folks, Bianca is officially on the prowl. This tigress is ready to roar!

Should be Nala, but you get the idea

Time to buck and hit the social scene! And why not start out with a bang. Two events this weekend… Three if you count my normally scheduled bi-weekly happy hour. Yes, this girl is in it to win it, and by it, I mean a man. Just like C. Bug said, I need to be bold and just do it! So that is what I am going to do! And it scares the crap out of me. Feel the fear and do it anyway!

We all know about my lack of small talk skills and how I am “great” I am at meeting new people, so this will be a giant leap out of my solo comfort zone a snuggly goodness. But it is a leap that have to make if I ever want to be in a relationship, let alone get married and have kids. I guess they are right when they say the thing that scares you the most will bring you the greatest joy.

I hope they are right about that…

I guess I need to set some realistic expectations for myself. Like “Bianca, there is a 99.99% chance that your Prince Charming may be at this party on Sunday, but do not look for him in that has his pants below his ass. You have standards sweetheart.” But how do you let your guard down without seeming totally desperate? And is there a way to correct resting bitch face? If anyone knows, please pass your secret on to m

I could make a list of a thousand reasons why I should stay home and watch the Golden Girls while eating a pint of coconut milk ice cream, but where would that get me? Right where I am. A Single gilr with a lot of problems.

But something to so this week is not one of them!

Later Days
B

Thalassemia – The Verdict

What up Peeps! When we last left our heroine, she was in search  of, or confirmation of the cause of her ridiculously low iron levels. Sorry, I had to got there. At times during the past few months, this journey has felt like a soap opera. I haven’t been to the doctors this much in my entire life. Well after months of taking iron pills, revamping my diet, and adding more vitamin supplements than are humanly possibly thanks to Frankie (7 pills), my iron levels are amazing! And my addiction to ice is gone! Like completely non-existent. Talk about a complete 180.

By now, I am a professional at getting blood taken

I went from 6.2 (should not have been unconscious) in January, to 9 in April, to a whopping 13 yesterday. My doctor was shocked at how much my levels increased. She even said my numbers were “beautiful”. Say what?!? I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I am only taking one iron pill a day instead of two. Whoops! Let’s keep that between us shall we? I’m still on iron pills for another 4 months, but after that , long medium size red pills that are not covered by insurance!

She was so impressed with my numbers that I had to remind her about the whole Thalassemia thing. And guess what??? I have the trait!!! Why am I so hype? Because I finally have confirmation that there is something funky going on with my blood! It’s one thing to assume that there is something going on, but it’s totally different and liberating to have confirmation. Now if I go get some blood work done and my iron count is low, they won’t call me frantically at work telling me to
go to the ER and then be told that I need a blood transfusion. Hooray.

There is one caveat. Of course there is always something right? If I so happen to meet someone who also carries the trait, our potential children could have Beta Thalassemia, the actual disease. I won’t go into specifics but it’s not good…

So there you have it. I’m just a girl with the Thalassemia trait living in the real world. It’s just another thing that make me, me!

Later Days
B