Romeo & Juliet - the MBTI way

OK, my previous blog was pretty boring - even I was bored with it. So let's try a new topic - Myers-Briggs! I love analyzing people using MBTI (I'm an INTP) so I think I'll be interested enough in this to keep it going.

Today's topic - Romeo & Juliet. Yes, THAT R&J.
My sisters kids are auditioning for their high school production of R&J, so the play came under a lot of discussion this weekend as the kids (Molly & Patrick - M&P) started taking the play seriously and started looking at characters they wanted to audition for. So, using the text and MBTI we profiled the main characters, looking for characteristics that would make a reachable role for each.
Let's define what makes a good role to select for a high school play.
1. Not the lead - an awful lot of work
2. A character role, one where you can really go for it - mugging, have just one great song, etc.
3. One that fits their physical type (Patrick is pretty tall and mature looking - he gets 'father' roles; Molly is also mature looking and gets 'mother' or 'friend' roles)

That said, let's analyze the characters in R&J, a la MBTI

• Juliet (ISTJ)
  Where do I start? She isn't shown with any friends or peers, having the most interaction with Nurse and her mother. I believe she is mature for her age, and practical. Her mother brings up the topic of marriage to this 13-year-old and she doesn't bat an eye - she agrees to look over the proposed suitor at the family party. It's as if she's accepted that this is the next stage of her life and she's ready to go there. Once marriage has been mentioned, she has it on her mind. She goes to the party to check out Paris, almost like she's attending high school open houses, ready to check it out and put him on a list. She's thinking along these lines when she meets Romeo. He goes on the list, too. Let's see - can she add him to the list, too? Why not?
  On to the balcony scene 'what's in a name? a rose by any other name would smell as sweet' (my paraphrase). So, she has one guy on the list and she's considering another. I will grant her some instant chemistry with Romeo, like she didn't have with the older Paris (probably only twenty-five or so!) but, still, she's checking her list and finds the only objection is his name. He shows up (getting points for persistence) and she finds that he's a sweet guy (more on R's section). Some quick banter and they're about to break it off for the night when he asks her for some follow-up. Her mind immediately goes to marriage. Yikes! But it is on her mind, and she has apparently made up her mind that, if she wants to get her way, she'd better act now. I bet she's a bit self-centered (more later) and gets whatever she wants. I wouldn't have pegged her as impulsive - maybe more goal-driven than impulsive? She's got one thing on her mind - moving on to the married phase of her life - and she's going to go for it.
  So, this alone pegs her for an SJ. Time for her to get married. Find a suitable candidate and just do it! It doesn't hurt that he's rich, a hottie, and sweet.
  (an aside - people didn't need parental consent for marriage at that time, which is why girls were married off before they got any ideas in their head).
  I can't tell whether she's an introvert or extrovert. She's kept so confined that it's hard to tell. If anything, I'd swing toward introvert, as she didn't appear eager to mix at the party.
  As to Feeling/Thinking - a T, definitely. More on that later.
  
  
• Romeo (INFP)
  Here's a real sweetie. He's cute, heir to a fortune and surrounded by friends and/or family. I think he's a year older than Juliet, which makes him 14 or 15. He hangs out with a group of guys that are older than he, well versed in sword play. Given Mercutio's wit, they may be college age, with all of the confidence that comes with coming into your own, and eager to show it off. As the play begins, the guys are twitting him for his crush on Rosaline, a woman grown, presumably, because the younger girls (i.e. Juliet) are not yet 'out'; how else would Romeo see a woman if he is not invited to her family's parties? Yet somehow he has seen her and fell for her. It is probably his first crush, given the way the guys are teasing him about it, and his habit of sometimes ditching the guys to walk through the woods alone. Nonetheless, they sympathize with him enough that they contrive a way to attend a (Capulet) family party where Rosaline will be present. It's a festive event, one where they can wear masks. I'd equate this to a summer barbeque, where people come and go freely. Being gentlemen, they feel suited to this event and not at all abashed at crashing the party.
  Romeo sees Juliet and, like her, conditioned to an idea, follows up on it. He's a feeler and, in a different age, would have written a sonnet to her eyes. He's suggestible to the idea of being in love. He sees an elusive figure skirting the edges of the party (how many teenagers want to be talking to the grown-ups, anyway?) and is drawn to her (today she'd be in a corner with a DS in her hand). She actually responds to him, unlike Rosaline, and shares one simple sonnet that lets him know that she's well brought up, respectful of convention (all that talk of pilgrims and saints), quick-witted, yet not too sky to speak of kisses (pilgrims' kisses). Someone who takes him seriously! He's smitten.
  Leaving the party, he now can't get her out of his mind. He's initially content to watch her catching a breeze on her balcony at the back of the house, but then finds that she's thinking of him too. One thing leads to another and he asks 'what next'? She answers 'marriage'. He's totally under her spell, so he says 'Done!' like any knight accepting a quest from a damsel, and pledges to make all the arrangements.
  From this much of the play, he's clearly a romantic (F), dreamer (N), likely an introvert (goes off on his own) and probably a P - not driven to action, necessarily, but would have been content in his vision of her - that is, until he is given a task that is technically simple to accomplish, after which he will have his Juliet. So, I make him an INFP.
  
  
  
  

That's enough for now. There's more evidence that Juliet is running things and Romeo just reacts to her direction. Next time.

NL-0 - Day 0 - Surgery

Yikes! What was I thinking? I'm typing this two days later, this being the first time I can sit long enough to type.

Enough with today. Let's talk about Day 0 - Surgery.

I was feeling great pre-op, wanting to finally DO IT. I got to bed about 12:30, pretty much normal for me, figuring that I'd get what amounted to a nap before I had to wake at 4:30 to get to the hospital. I had read and re-read all the pre-op material which gives you your check-in time (5:45am), surgery time (7:45am) and instructions (nothing to eat or drink after midnight). So far so good. But how does the rest of the day look like? An hour for the procedure, which brings us to 9am max, a couple of hours of sleeping off the anesthesia, then home. I'd be home by noon, max. After all, a one-hour procedure is much like root canal, with better anesthesia.

OOPS! My bad!
It turned out a whole lot differently.
At check-in, I was focused on the objective - it is a GOOD THING, worth doing, you just have to get through the NOW. Jabber on about anything to stave off anxiety - getting anxious and raising my blood pressure won't do anybody any good. It's all a big unknown after the mask comes down, but I trust the doctor, right? And, I had Daddy out in the waiting room. He is a master. He will take care of me. In a fight between him and the surgeon, Daddy wins any day. No fear on my part, with Daddy on my side.

I wake up in recovery; they're not quite sure what to do with me, as I am outpatient - do I stay there or go to a room? It's up to a room for me. Thank goodness, because the rest of the day is a haze of chatting and abruptly falling asleep. Boom! in the middle of a sentence I'm out. I can barely speak, which is atypical for me, but this is because they had to intubate me for the anesthesia, which goes through the vocal folds, stretching them or something. It's taking a couple of days to get my voice back.

I was feeling hot and achy and sleepy and who know what. They gave me painkillers and anti-nausea medicine IV but no pain-pump. It was later on that I figured that the feverish-ness was more from dehydration than anything else. About 6PM someone brought a liquid dinner (apple juice, broth, jello, tea) which contradicted the ice-chips diet I expected for the day. Yea! Looked great! But, after taking two spoonfuls of the broth, I had the dry heaves, despite the anti-nausea meds. So ice-chips it was.

I remember a PA coming through to check out my regular meds, switching one out for a non-diuretic variation, then someone came through on rounds with the passel of geeky residents who really *were* clueless about what was going on, despite the fact that the hospital is actively marketing bariatric surgery so I can't be the first one they've seen.

Several times in the afternoon I get up to walk around - bathroom, of course, then walks around the ward. Nothing wrong with my legs! The drafty attire leaves something to be desired, however. Thank goodness my nurse, Rhonda, draped a sheet over my shoulders.

Finally, I got the OK to go home. My legs worked, my arms worked, but the torso connecting them was a mess. Any kind of twisting or reaching was agony, including reaching for toilet paper, or pulling down one side of my shirt. Nonetheless, I wanted to be home.

Why home? All my preparation was there - the protein powders, popsicles, juices and soups. My bed, with all the necessities around it - CPAP, phone, glasses, dog treats and, oh yes, the dog.
Daddy made sure I had everything I could possibly need, including all the narcotics the hospital provided. Patricia stayed overnight with me, ready to listen for the bike horn I had by my bed.
I settled into bed by 9PM after trying to find ways to get comfortable in bed. Mother, you were with me all day - everything I learned from you I applied today.

To be continued... I feel for Daddy

NL-1 Take charge!

I'm tired of, well, being tired. So the weight has to go. Like many, I feel like I've tried every diet out there. Most recently (last year) I did WeightWatchers, lost weight then gained it back and then some. That's happened in the past, so what was I thinking? Why did I think I could try the same old thing and expect different results?

So now I'm going bolder. I'm going for bariatric surgery. Extreme weight loss. No pulling your punches, you have to totally commit to this option. You can't go off your diet for a day, a weekend, a vacation. Once you go there, you're in. There are Consequences if you fall off the wagon.

There are several kinds of bariatric surgery. Many are invasive and make major choices in your organs. Not for me. What I chose was closer to installing a medical device to assist you with your weight loss. People with hearing problems use a hearing aid. The nearsighted use glasses. I'll install a girdle around my stomach to remind me not to eat. OK, it's inside your body so it's a nuisance installing it, but no internal organs are rerouted in the process.

The process is called gastric banding (GB). The specific device is a Lap-Band (LB), a belt that is put around your upper stomach. This belt limits how much the stomach can hold at a time, giving you the 'full' signal pretty quickly. The band itself can be thought of as a bike tire with an inner tube in it. Once you get used to the band/tire, you can inflate or deflate the inner tube to make the upper stomach smaller or bigger. The way I figure it, my overeating over all these years has stretched out my stomach just like all my baggy clothes. This just shrinks it down again. In essence I'm getting another chance, by artificially reducing my stomach to that of a five-year-old.

As good as this sounds it's not a free ride. First you have the trauma of surgery. You are on a highly restricted diet for the first six weeks while the stitches holding the band in place heal. Next, when you eat, you have to eat to fill that stomach and NO MORE. There isn't room for extra. If you eat too much it will back up your esophagus and give you heart burn. Worse, you might vomit it all up, you pig. So when you get the 'stop' signal you STOP. That's what the restrictive diet is about - you have to gradually get used to the signals from your stomach. After six weeks you are back on solid, normal foods just not in adult quantities. You will never be able to overeat again - it will back up on you. On the plus side, there aren't any foods you must avoid, not like the other bariatric procedures. But if you paid this much and suffered through the restricted diet, are you going to go back to French fries? More than two, anyway?

While on the restricted diet you aren't getting enough nutrients so you have to use vitamins and protein drinks to compensate. Funny enough, the protein drinks are very similar to the Cambridge diet from the '80s. The chief difference is that, without the banding, you could drink Cambridge AND eat normal food before you got the full signal. So that was only so successful. Close, but no cigar.

My procedure is tomorrow, early.
I hear that you only feed discomfort afterwards, like cramping, and that the principal problem is the fatigue from the low-calorie diet while healing. We'll see.

I have no idea how much weight can be lost - I hear some quite frankly unbelievable tales of losses of 100 lbs or more. My personal goals are an A1C of 5, no CPAP, drop the meds for hypertension and cholesterol, and clothes from the Misses department. The numbers are secondary.

So, wish me luck!

More later.

NL-1 - Morbidly obese

Morbidly obese (MO) - yikes! That sounds... deadly. Something that could kill you. Something that describes someone else, never me.
But according to all standards, that's me as well.
What does morbidly obese mean?
I'm not going to define it, I'll describe it.
MO means feeling ... heavy. You're reluctant to move, and move the least possible. On Hell's Kitchen the MO chefs just don't hustle. They move sparingly. It looks like they don't care. That isn't true but that's what it looks like. That doesn't mean that you are handicapped, just that you are predisposed to inaction. Chores don't get done as often as a more energetic person would like. You get neighborhood kids to mow your lawn and do the weeding and paint the house. Yes, you make it sound like you're supporting the local economy, but you really don't have the energy or want do deal with the aches afterwards if you do it yourself.
You do laundry as little as you can get away with. When grocery shopping, you only go down the aisles you need to. You look for the best parking space. Books and the Internet are more interesting than walks and activities. Your hobbies become computer-based hobbies, like... writing a blog. Facebook. Computer-based games. Editing photographs. You know you have a problem when you spend more time at a computer editing photographs than you spend taking them. You start carrying your cell phone in the house because you're too lazy to pick up the phone in another room. Over time you don't even notice how lazy you've gotten.
MO means

• ditching watches because you can't buy one to fit your wrist (use that cell phone for time!)
  
• looking for tables with chairs in restaurants instead of booths
• worrying that seat belts in cars and planes might not go around you.
• stop looking in mirrors (a challenge in public restrooms)
  
• start focusing on isolated things (hair, earrings, rings, shoes) rather than the entire body
• avoiding clothes shopping just in case you don't fit the largest size in the store
• buying clothes over the Internet 'coz they carry your size
• start hating body parts - flabby arms, heavy legs, swollen ankles
• wear outsize clothing because the clothes that *fit* are now all stretched out of shape
• packing heavy when traveling because you couldn't buy something if you forgot it
• watch the shopping channels on TV because those companies carry large-size rings and necklaces with extenders
• always being hot, using a fan or AC year-round
• wearing sandals and shorts in winter and calling it eccentric
• having a long list of auto-record programs on your Tivo
• taking kids to the amusements and sitting on the bench because you couldn't get the harness on.
  

... and of course there are all the eating issues which I am just too lazy/tired/disgusted to get into.

The crazy thing is that you don't feel ugly or unattractive; you are still as interesting and interested in the world as you've ever been. Your *character* hasn't changed , just the vessel that carries it. So you feel normal, with adjustments or accommodations made with the passing of time. You might blame the changes on creeping age or stress or insufficient sleep or money troubles.

Somehow, something calls out to you to stop and take stock. It can be anything.
Something has to change. The time is now.

... to be continued.

NL-2 Two days before a new life

This blog is about my new life, one that starts in two days.
New life, you say? How so?
Let's go back a bit. I never expected to have a new life. I've lived an outwardly uneventful life so far - wonderful childhood, the best family anyone could ever have (no one would believe me if I put it in a book), a career in a field that suits me. Any bumps in the road have shaken me up a bit just enough to make those years memorable. Nothing exciting - I've had no traumatic illnesses (TG!), nor any Olympic medals, nor any earthshattering romances. Didn't even win the lottery, unless you count my family - I've won the lottery quite a bit through them. Slow and steady.
On the slow and steady path things creep up on you. In my case, weight. As a child I was skinny as all five-year-olds are. Then I discovered books. But with books came bicycles, as you needed a bike to get to the various libraries within biking distance of home, so things balanced out. However, in those pre-Title 9 days, there were no sports programs for girls, even if I were genetically predisposed that way. So I slipped into a sedentary lifestyle - piano lessons (sitting), buses, trains and subways instead of bikes for libraries, cars and buses instead of walking to school (high school). Skipping forward to the college years, my new interest in folk dancing didn't compensate for the sedentary bookish life. Diets started coming into my life in high school and were part of my college life, more as something to worry about than to follow.
I was fortunate to enter into the computer field in its infancy. It was and still is fascinating - there was the challenge in using pure logic to make things happen. You go to work and people people gave you puzzles to play with all day, every day. Not literal puzzles but figurative ones. They'd ask me to help them to accomplish something. I'd see it as a challenge - what is the most efficient way, using computers, to get this done? Efficiency was everywhere. What is the most efficient use of my time? Do things just-in-time. Arrive at events without wasting any time (i.e. never arrive early, arrive when things start to happen). Work to the deadline. Don't waste any effort.
Yet, this was balanced by the interest to be 'in the moment' - reading a book, riding a bike to explore something, figuring out a new interest. I guess I thought I had enough exercise to balance my sedentary work life, but, unnoticed, my life was tipping toward the sedentary side. I gave up dance classes for singing in a symphony chorus (what do you have when you combine 150 people and a lot of heavy breathing - a chorus!). I gave up exercise to get a graduate degree at night. I traded ice-skating lessons and weight-training for a mortgage. Then the biggie - I bought into a 45-mile commute (one way) for a paycheck. The transformation was now complete - sitting in a car for two hours a day, sitting at a desk for another eight. The only saving graces were my hobbies - photography (trading my computer-geek credentials for photo-geek ones), travel (when I could afford it) and golf (yes, I kept banging my head against that particular wall) more as a family activity than an actual sport.

Which brings me back to today. This life. Me as morbidly obese.
I know how I got here and I know where it is taking me. A place I don't want to go - I've seen someone die a slow death from the complications of obesity. I have to change and it has to happen now.
A new life. It starts in two days. Come along with me on this journey.