First, I just want to start off by saying that having the surgery was the right decision for me in a number of ways. It truly had to happen. I spent too much time losing a giant amount of weight, only to still be wearing the same clothes, unable to see any results other than what was on the scale, and feeling like I would never see the end of the struggling portion of the show. My usual cut off was about 70 pounds. Seventy pounds is a HELL of a lot of weight for ANYONE to lose! But for me, it barely scratched the surface. I would lose hope, then momentum, then interest. Part of the plan with this surgery, was to literally ensure that I couldn’t “give up.” I now have a bit of a failsafe, in that I will literally become violently ill if I try to eat craptastic food that’s no good for me. For chrissakes, I get sick even when I eat what’s GOOD for me!
Now all that said, I’ve spent the last week wondering, “WHAT THE HELL DID I DO TO MYSELF?!” Sure, I’ve lost quite a bit of weight so far. People who see me say it’s really noticeable. I guess it must be, since I can sit comfortably in my jeans for the first time since I purchased them six years ago. Oh yeah, I’ve not been comfy in these damned things for SIX YEARS! That’s a long time to wait to fit into one’s clothes. At any rate, yes… I’m noticing. Still, getting thinner wasn’t the ultimate goal. Getting healthy and literally lighter is the ultimate goal. Losing my taste for food was not the plan. Being unable to consume virtually anything at the moment, is pissing me off in the most profound ways. And right now, I have ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD to think about how much that sucks. I try not to. I’m just sayin’…
I’m sure that there will be some who will read this and say, “What did you expect?!” Really… I didn’t expect water to make me nauseous. I love water! It shows in my gorgeous skin. Now, water makes me sick and actually hurts to drink. I know that will pass but having to get in 48 to 64 ounces is definitely not happening because of how drinking makes me feel. I expected to feel full fast, and considered that to be the ultimate plus side to this plan. Yup, I sure do feel full fast. That’s if I am able to stomach what food I actually manage to keep down. I’m not throwing up a lot, but just sitting here an trying to think of more than one thing I’ve eaten since the surgery that didn’t have a few moments of “uh oh” is difficult. While I am craving things like salads and steak (which I cannot have), the idea of eating virtually anything, no matter what, makes me nauseous.
The thing is, I truly enjoy eating delicious food. Flavor, to me, is worth living for. It’s not about eating copious amounts of fattening foods, or greasy crap, or even sweets. It thrills me that eating In N Out would make me vomit immediately! Keeps me from thinking I should EVER put it in my body again and that‘s super okay with me! In fact, I’d rather eat a light pasta dish over cheesecake any day of the week (both are off the menu for at least the next two years). My friend Stephanie makes this avocado and spinach salad that I’ve been craving since I had it a year ago, and I would blow chunks if I even attempted it! That blows!!! I’m craving salad like nobody’s business!
Lets face it, for most of the last 30 years, my eating habits haven’t been about focused on flavor and the consumption of “good” food (when I could and did eat “good food“ regularly, I lost weigh like a mad woman - finances have made that more than a little difficult). It’s been largely about eating what I could afford and filling the enormous hole in my gut. That’s a HUGE change and one that’s becoming excruciating to deal with at the moment.
But… one hurdle at a time, no?
Soothing myself has taken on a whole new unpleasant tone. Nothing soothes me right now. The sensation of flavor and texture in some foods used to be the only thing I had to do that (and have been using it for that reason since I was little). Just the sound of stirring macaroni was like a lullaby to my nerves. People see me as an extremely difficult person to console or comfort so I don‘t get a whole lot of it. So here I am going through one of the biggest changes of my life and I took away my only easy calmer. Every day, I have to talk myself out of thinking I screwed up my life by having this surgery. Last Friday I sat in my therapist’s office crying my eyes out and saying, “Every time I try to make a decision to make my life better, I end up making it ten times worse! I no longer trust my own decisions!”
His response was, “REALLY?! But you made the right decision for the right reason! That‘s the least screwed up thing you‘ve done since we met!” I’d love to say that makes me feel better. I’m positive it will and I will look back on this time and be glad I somehow made it through. Right now, I feel like beating myself up and several times a day, I spend all my energy stopping the urge.
On the plus side, I have certainly noticed is that I feel foolish for insisting on the full fat or full sodium versions of certain foods, now that I’ve become accustomed to them. Low Sodium V8... Frickin’ delicious! WTF?! Why didn’t I keep a bottle of this in the fridge at work ALL ALONG?! Tell you what, I’m gonna now! Texturally speaking, yes… lo-fat cream of chicken soup is funky. But my usual application for it is to make greek lemon chicken soup. Aside from the fact that I cannot have rice, I cannot imagine that the difference would be detectible now. Still… there’s not a whole lot of options right now for flavor. I’m in the “soft foods” phase of my post surgical diet. Mashed potatoes, refried beans, laughing cow cheese, scrambled eggs are largely what I’m living on right now. I’m gonna get REALLY CREATIVE before this is over! If I wasn’t sick to damned death of chicken broth I‘d make a kick ass chicken soup (the idea of it makes me want to barf right now, since I got so pumped full of IV fluids and broth the day after my surgery that it made me ill for a week and a half).
So to answer your question of “How are you doing?” That’s how I’m doing. I’m fine. I’m sad, I’m nervous, I’m excited, I’m impatient. I’m also broke, or I’d be in San Jose giving and receiving boatloads of love. And friends, friends, friends… as always you keep me sane, keep me from losing my hope, remind me that I am loved and cared for. Even if the darkest moments of doubt and fear, knowing you are there, backing me, keeps me going. Thank you! Thank you… THANK YOU!!!
1 comment:
I am confident that you will see this as a good thing five years from now. You're into the "long" part of the long run, and I've no doubt it's a hell I cannot fathom. But eventually you will read this post and think, "remember how bad it was!?" And you'll remember, but the edges will have worn off the memory. That is the day you need to hang on to now. It will come and you can make it!
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