The #FatChick Battles Through #Compassion Fatigue to Find Herself Again #amwriting #MyWANA

Hello my old friends. It's been a long while. So much has happened since my last post of any kind here at Not Enough Time in the Day. Why? As the title of this blog states there just hasn't been enough time in the day to get everything accomplished. 

As you know I have suffered from many health issues and continue to battle them. The last few months I suffered a major relapse, regained weight I'd lost, allowed my diabetes and blood pressure to get way out of control. I was a complete mess and didn't like who I'd become. Not. One. Bit.

As The Vixen and as myself, I have championed many causes from pets to other authors. That tenacious pit bull attitude was a welcome thing to see by people then, but when I turned that attitude around to stick up for myself and stop being a doormat, things went to hell and a hand basket.

I spent too much of my time taking care of everyone else, other groups, promoting other authors and basically letting everything else important to me take a back seat. Hell, I left some things so far behind I thought I'd lost them all together. The real me was one of them.

I blame myself for it. I allowed it to happen. I took on more things than I could handle at once because of some misguided work ethic. I don't like to see things fail. When I commit to something, I hold up my end and that of others to keep everything all flowing. Unfortunately, instead of speaking up and telling those around me I was overwhelmed and could no longer be the back up, I kept working and working and the anger and resentment build up until it finally exploded.

Besides writing under four pen names, I work over forty hours a week as a veterinarian. I literally hold lives in my hands on a daily basis. The stress of that job alone is enough to make anyone crack. It's no wonder that veterinarians have the highest suicide rate than any other profession. I'm not making that up. Veterinarians are "four times as likely" to take their own lives as non-medical professionals, and "twice as likely" as other medical professionals. Click here to read one article on the subject and to find out why. No need for me to go into that in this post other than to say YES I suffer from compassion fatigue. After 21 years of  emergency and general practice in economically challenged areas, it's a given for me and something I have to battle every single day.

To escape that world, I need to immerse myself in my characters and their stories. In the beginning, I was eager to take on new projects to get my name out there. As I built up more of my own following, I joined forces with others to get all of us more exposure. Unfortunately in the middle of that, I lost sight of what's important in all of it—me.

I turned into a person I no longer recognized. Instead of being able to talk things through, I lashed out. I was constantly on edge. I could no longer let things roll off my back. Even the slightest infraction turned into a major production. I spent many nights sobbing uncontrollably, unable to sleep, not understanding I was slowly killing myself. 

Top that with fighting with former partners over idiotic things, misunderstanding each other at every turn, assuming every single thing mentioned anywhere was a slam against me personally, and you get the idea of a small part of what's been going on in my life right now. I looked in the mirror and hated the person I saw glaring back at me. There was no other choice left for me now.

I had to walk away.

I became that person searching for something to continue to be pissed off about. Yes, I did have cause for a lot of it, but that's no excuse for letting everything build up the way I did. It was irresponsible of me to allow it to happen in the first place. I ignored the warning signs that started about a year and half ago. Instead, I thought it would get better if I continued to go with the flow. 

It didn't. Now I've cut ties with some folks, dropped out of projects, and let go of all the bullshit. Now it's up to me to take care of me. I'm keeping The Vixen close to home now on Sassy Vixen Publishing and at Taboo II. She's where she should be. The nickname was given to me by an old high school friend in honor of me busting out of my shy girl shell. While he's no longer in my life, The Vixen will continue to live on as I go back to the basics.

So if you find yourself in similar situations, stop! Cut out all the extra things in your life that really don't matter. YOU are the most important part of the equation. If you find that you've strayed from your original path and you no longer recognize the person in the mirror, CHOOSE to make the changes you need to get YOU back—not the kind of person others what you to be, but who you were born to be.

Until next time,
~Tammy

The #FatChick Asks: What the Hell Happened to My Glasses and Why's the Print So Small? #MyWANA #ASMSG

Welcome back to my weekly Memoirs of a Forty Something Fat Chick. I'm sure you all can figure out I'm "The Fat Chick," aka Tammy. Each week I'm detailing my journey to better health. Along the way I'm finding the humor in all that comes with being fat, over forty and dealing with medical issues. 

This week's question: When did everyone start using the ultra small fine print?

My body went to hell the instant I turned forty. Not only did my bladder shrink down to the size of a walnut, my vision went from bad to worse. I kid you not. One moment my bi-focals worked just fine and the next I'm struggling to drive looking through the higher magnification part of the lenses. 

And let's not forget about my hearing! I swear it was like someone turned down the volume and lost the remote. The only time I hear well is when I have my stethoscope in my ears and I'm listening to the heart and lungs of my patients.  Looks like a hearing aide is on the horizon for this almost forty-seven year old broad. Yip. Eee. (cue the voice dripping with sarcasm).

If anything else breaks down, I'm going to have to seriously consider retiring earlier than my hubby and I had planned. I mean, what good is a legally blind and deaf veterinarian? If I can't see for shit without the aid of super ultra magnifying lenses crafted by scientists with only the highest security clearance, nor hear without the assistance of listening devices that rival those used by the CIA, what's the point of keeping up the pretense?

Okay so it's not to that point...yet. I've still got enough sass to keep the "kids" at work on their toes. Kudos to me for making them all talk louder by using the tried and true method.  I ignore them until they talk louder. I mean I really can't hear two thirds of what they mumble, so if they want me to respond, they better SPEAK UP! 


My hearing and vision are just two more things I can take care of to make life a bit easier...and for those around me too. Who wants to hear me ask them to repeat what they just said two, three and four times? Now I know how my Dad felt when his hearing started to go on him. I'm sure it was a blessing in a house full of teenagers, but not so much in a crowded room at a family function with everyone talking at once.  Sigh...

Well, on to some fabulous news about my fitness program.  I'm down 13 pounds since I started three weeks ago. I'm checking my blood glucose (sugar) level before and after meals and at bedtime. This started after my first diabetes class last week. What an eye opener!



I learned many of the ailments I've had over the last six months, at least, have all been due to my diabetes. The intensely itchy skin, out of control migraines, dizzy spells, GI issues, debilitating fatigue, all due to high blood sugar.  Carbs are not my friend, but they're not my enemy either. I have to retrain myself on portion control and plan for those special days like birthdays so I can partake in cake for example. There has to be a trade off, just like with everything in life.

I've discovered the wonderful world of low carb versions of my favorite food like the Everything Bagel, flat bread and multi-grain bread, tortilla and milk. Yep. I found a milk product that's higher in protein and half the carbs per serving than skim milk. Whoohoo!


I tried the sugar substitute Truvia. I'm not impressed but willing to keep using it to help me decrease the amount of real sugar I add to things like my tea and some cereals.  

The best thing?  SPAGHETTI SQUASH!  Who knew?  Well, I'm sure all of you knew it, but I was the goofball who never tried it until this last weekend. I made a simple shrimp scampi, balsalmic and scotch mushrooms to go along with the squash. Yummo!




Well, that's all for this week my lovelies. I'll check back in next week to give you more details on the nutty world of this Forty Something Fat Chick.

~Tammy

#Diabetes Rears It's Ugly Head In The World of the #FatChick

Welcome back to Memoirs of a Forty Something Fat Chick. Last week I touched upon my health issues with my obesity and high blood pressure taking center stage. The day after that post, I got another call from my doctor with the rest of the blood test results.

I'm diabetic. Type II diabetic to be precise.  It's the most common form of diabetes and also called non-insulin dependent or adult onset diabetes. It's really not a club I'd hoped to be joining any time soon, but as I said last week, I did this to myself and now it's time to pay the piper.

When I shared my diagnosis with family and friends in private and on Facebook, I got several comments that struck me as odd.  

"Oh, how can this happen?"  

"So sorry to hear. That's just horrible."

"No more sugar for you."

LOL! You know what I thought when I saw the results online? "Damn. Well, I have something else to motivate me now."  Yep. It was almost a relief to get the numbers. I am 148 mg/dl.  The high end of normal for this lab is 122.  It's not horrendous, but it is high enough to warrant testing my blood sugar daily.  Good Goddess! I hate needles!  So far it's only going to be those little lancets and no insulin.

With my obesity, it was only a matter of time before I flipped from being pre-diabetic into the diabetic state. I have to own that, accept I DID THIS TO MYSELF and let it go. Now I can use it as a goal for my plan to get healthy. I'm not going to wallow in the poor me stuff. I've had enough of that!

Just over the last week alone, I've lost six pounds. I've cut out coke and other soft drinks completely. I've increased the amount of fruit and veggies in my diet and continue to drink the water like a fiend. The water is great for me anyway but it's the blood pressure medication that's added to the increased thirst—also the weight loss as it's a diuretic! BONUS!  LOL

Through my doctor, I've signed up for a Diabetes management class. There they'll go over the lifestyle changes that go along with the diagnosis, food choices, exercise programs and of course testing my blood daily with my new One Touch Ultra 2. 

I just started using the machine yesterday and still getting used to stabbing my fingers.  It was a bit messy the first time, but today my technique improved. You would think a veterinarian would be more graceful with this machine, but noooooo. Not this chica! LOL

So for those of you reading about my diagnosis and feel sorry for me? Don't. Like I've said numerous times, I DID THIS TO MYSELF. I've got no one else to blame. Yes the amount of stress in my life contributed to it, but my uncontrolled overeating made me morbidly obese and put me at risk for so much more than high blood pressure and type II diabetes. I thank the Goddess I've got myself back on track and hopefully will have all these conditions under control in no time.

Until next week my friends,

~Tammy

#Memoirs of a Forty Something Fat Chick: New Weekly Feature with @dochappycamper

Welcome to the first post of the Memoirs of a Forty Something Fat Chick.  I’m “The Fat Chick, “ aka “The Vixen,” Lia Michaels, Stephanie Ryan and Tammy Dennings Maggy. With all those alter ego’s in one body, it’s a wonder I don’t weigh more than I already do.  I’ve got a lot on my plate and taking on more. I must be insane. Scratch that. I know I’m insane.

So why the memoirs?

As I’m sure you’ve gathered by the title of this feature, I’m forty-something—well, forty-six to be exact and knocking closely on forty-seven’s door. I’ve always been happy to celebrate my birthdays as aging really didn’t bother me. I’m actually excited to get to the milestones coming next. Unfortunately, my body isn’t down with the program.

As far back as I can remember I’ve had trouble with my weight. Not just a few extra pounds mind you, but by just about anyone’s standards I can be called obese. Morbidly obese. Don’t get me started on my BMI. It’s well over the limit.  I’ve tried and been successful at just about every single diet known to the free world: The Cabbage Soup Diet, Adkins, Jenny Craig, Weight Watchers, Slimfast, starvation, exercise until I keel over plans and other variations of the low carb to no carb fads. 

Successful at each and every single one of them—until I let the little things slip.  It starts with no longer measuring out the portions and just eyeballing them.  The mindless snacking slips in there with the excuse, “one scoop of ice cream won’t hurt. I’ll just do another half hour on the elliptical.”  The exercise is the next to leave camp. It’s not a slow trickle either. It starts with skipping one session, then another and another until finally it’s been a few months before I ever pick up my hand weights or kick it with Leslie Sansone and her Walk Away the Pounds routines.

It all just stops.

Before I know it, the 150, yes that’s ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY pounds I dropped the last go around is almost a memory. Over the last two years, I’ve regained eighty (80) of those pounds and I feel miserable.  I’ve no one else to blame but myself for this. I know I’m an emotional eater. I eat when I’m happy and when I’m sad.  I eat when I’m stressed or relaxed. It doesn’t matter. If it’s there, I’ll eat it. 

So why not just jump back on the Healthy Band Wagon and lose the weight again?

There’s a bit more going on with this fat chick. I finally have the support system to do this. My first husband never gave a rip what I did with my life or with my health. It’s why we’re no longer together…well, one of the reasons.  My current hubby and love of my life is just the opposite. He’s there in my corner every step of the way. Even with that, I still resisted.  I was afraid to make an appointment with a new doctor and be lectured.  I know I’m fat and I know what I need to do to get rid of it. I was afraid of starting up with the exercise again because of the aches and pains I’ve been having.  It hasn’t been just my knees, shoulder and back, but I’ve had some chest pain as well.

I was scared to try again for fear I’d make things worse.  But you see? By not doing anything, I made things worse with each passing day.  I needed the strength to stop wallowing in self-pity, take the much deserved scolding from the doctor and BUCK UP BUTTERCUP! 

What really helped me make the appointment with the new doctor was reading the memoir of my good friend, Amber Lea Easton.  She wrote about the loss of her husband due to suicide and how she and her family had to cope with it all.  My heart broke for her and it broke again when I thought of what I’d put my husband through if I kept on my same path.  Instead of the decades together as we’d planned, I’d be lucky to be around for another five.

Walking into the doctor’s office was the scariest thing I’ve had to do since getting up in front of the class in high school for my first speech.  I swore all eyes were on me as I made my way to the elevators to take me to the third floor.  Never mind others milled about all over the facility in worse shape than me, I just knew all were watching and judging ME.  

Yes, that’s a bit melodramatic but hey, I’m a writer! Of course I’d make it all scary and weepy eyed.

Article on weight loss for those over 40

I was scared going in there but put immediately at ease by both the assistant and the doctor.  As we went over my family history of breast cancer, high blood pressure, colon cancer, heart disease, COPD and obesity, not once did the doctor judge me. She was concerned yes, but determined to help me get back on track.  We discussed everything I’d need to help me along including staring on blood pressure medication until my weight began to drop. I needed help to not stroke out during workouts and this would do just that.

She also prescribed a pain medication for my back and hip so I could use it if needed in order to sleep. I didn’t want to have anything stronger than Tylenol and ibuprofen while working at the veterinary hospital. She agreed. She listened to all of my concerns and told me I wasn’t crazy for being scared. There was a real good possibility I’d harm myself further if I didn’t have the physical before starting my exercise regimen.

So by the end of that visit, I was poked, prodded and squished.  In other words, had a full exam, blood drawn for testing, tetanus shot updated and had my boobs squished for the mammogram.  Whew! Oh and I have another appointment for follow up blood work in a week to be sure the blood pressure medication isn’t lowering my potassium too much.

Did I tell you I’m afraid of needles?  LOL!  Yep.  Thank the Goddess for the phlebotomist and the nurse who administered my tetanus shot. I didn’t feel a thing and am only a tiny bit sore today.  I had anticipated not being able to use my arm today at all but all’s well.  I even got in some yoga.

Goddess! I’ve missed the yoga and all the other exercises I had worked up to in the past. I didn’t realize just how much until I started again today.

No more excuses! This Fat Chick is taking her life back. I’m gonna be around for a hell of a long time so you all might as well pull up a chair. I have three pen names, a publishing house, household and job as a full time veterinarian to keep up with. I've worked hard to get to this place in my life and I'll be damned if I'm going to go out without a fight. Glad you're here with me.

We’ll have lots to talk about each week as I go on this journey. There’ll be ups and downs, milestones and set-backs.  Bring it! I’m not afraid anymore.

Until next time,

~Tammy