some hair came out in the shower for the first time last night. although i knew it would happen, it was a little shocking nonetheless. i keep telling myself that unlike other conditions where people lose their hair because they're fighting for their life, i am lucky and grateful that i am getting my life back. still, i'm anxious to see where it will fall out from, and how i'll manage it.

over the last months, i've quipped about how ironic it would be to suddenly be thin for the first time, and bald. not seeming funny at the moment.

have a little faith in me

i've been having a rough few days. not in the sense that i'm in crisis or anything, i just feel unsettled about what i'm eating and how my progress is moving along. i had my six week check-up on monday and the surgeon was very pleased and said everything is going just as it should, so i should feel fine, but i feel overwhelmed with all the varying advice i get, and deeply doubting.

i have this deep, sinking feeling that i will be one of the many people who regain all their weight. i don't feel it in the sense that it's written in the stars - i know i'm in control of it and i don't believe my future - or anything for that matter - is predestined. i spoke about it with my therapist and was able to see that it's really just a deep-seated insecurity about my ability to do this, and to do it permanently. it doesn't have to do with the likelihood of success, it just has to do with the fear of failure and a heartache i can't even imagine, for me and those who love me. like most in my shoes, although i've had success in losing weight before, i have never finished the job, and i've certainly never kept it off.

so i think that that insecurity that lives so deep inside is coloring my world right now. i am feeling unsure about my food choices, afraid that the trial and error that is totally unavoidable in this process will derail me and bring me to some point of no return later. i'm worried about the fact that i feel hungry sometimes, and that i feel like i'd be physically capable of eating more than my pouch should allow. i don't push it and test it, but i have this feeling that i'd be able to - i don't feel the physical limitation in the way i thought i would, and it scares me, and i feel shame about it. i feel like of course i'd be the person who is still in danger of overeating 6 weeks after a gastric bypass, counting my calories, my "eating disorder voice" telling me i could eat more...

in some ways, there's too much input when i consider the different opinions of my nutritionist, my surgeon, his PA, people on the message boards, etc. and in other ways, i know they're the key to connecting with a community of people who get it, who've seen it work and not work, who've been there and who've done it - and on the message boards especially, probably the only community out there who knows what i know from living a life of obesity, and all the things i don't yet know from a life lived in pursuit of health and happiness.

i think the heart of the matter is that to allow myself to be on this journey, and really treat it like a journey - following my mind, my heart, my little pouch - i need to trust myself and have faith in me, something i don't find challenging in general, but find almost impossible in this arena.

in my last therapy session, i said very strongly i wanted a roadmap, and i knew then and i know now that i am the mapmaker in this life. i can take in everything being said to me by every book, professional and fellow WLS patient, but ultimately it's my own path to carve, and i can only do that from a "position of strength" as my mother wisely advised.

i guess my position of strength today is that i'm putting one foot in front of the other and making the best possible choices i can with the information i have and most of all, the things i've found to be true. and i'm going to feel good about it, and strong and proud. i'm going to do all i can to shed the shame that feels like it's following me around - something that had gone away when i decided to take charge and have the surgery. that's the best i can do today, and then tomorrow, i'll do it again, and maybe my choices will be the same, or maybe they'll be different as my set of information changes and evolves. but i have to choose to be comfortable in the driver's seat and in my own skin, or i won't grow and evolve the way i need to, and i won't ever be able to enjoy the journey i've chosen and truly, been given.

i know i have to choose to give myself that gift of trust; to have a little faith in me. i need to be strong enough to know i will make mistakes and learn my own lessons and craft my roadmap. one day, i'll have my own advice to give, and part of that will surely be to take heart and try not to be overwhelmed by all the mixed advice and experiences you hear about...to give yourself permission to be strong in creating your own roadmap even though you can't anticipate every turn - to be strong by not fearing failure that's just an illusion at the moment, especially when it stops you from embracing so much potential success.

that's what i'm saying to myself this morning.

image

a funny thing happened on the way to the gastric bypass

several months before my surgery, i decided to stop recording episodes of cooking shows on my DVR, including my beloved ina garten who i found so relaxing and lovely to watch. my thinking was that i really didn't need to be watching tv shows about food, given the journey i was on. as most people would agree, watching tv about food makes you want food...problem.

as the surgery grew closer, any discussion of food, whether on tv or in real life, was upsetting to me. i didn't want to be a part of it, hear about it, think about it, talk about it...because it was all too clear to me that food would never be the same for me, and that sucked. i was terrified of a life without abundant food to make me happy. i came to understand in those months that it wasn't the food i loved and was addicted to - it was the quantity. i realized i was nothing like a foodie - foodies love good food and they'd rather have a small amount of the "real thing" when it came to dieting than be able to gorge themselves on chemical junk so they could have more. not me. i wanted more. i knew, deep inside, that there could never be a time where "just a little" would do it for me. i never craved a delicious portion of pasta, i craved a whole box, and it almost didn't matter what it tasted like.

during those months, any image i saw of food, any restaurant chatter i heard made me feel like crying..."i will never be able to have a conversation like that again." in the weeks before the surgery when i was on all liquids, it was the hardest because i was feeling the deprivation and the hunger and not reaping any of the benefits of the surgery yet...not the weight loss, not the end of the pre-surgical anxiety, not the new life i had been promised with early sateity and a new set of priorities. the same was true for the first week or so after the surgery. though i wasn't feeling physical hunger, i was in mental anguish for what i had lost - the ability to soothe and give myself happiness with a serving bowl full of pasta just for me, going into an alternate reality where time was suspended and happiness was mine with a mouth full of starchy goodness to relish.

but i take so much comfort in the notion that nothing stays the same, and that understanding is really the genesis of the name of this blog - one day at a time. i learned when i quit smoking that although it was natural to feel and fear it, there was no actual value in worrying how i would go on my first vacation without cigarettes, my first dinner out or party or long phone conversation without cigarettes - i was lucky that the thought came to me, as if divinely, that the phrase "one day at a time" was actually quite brilliant - it meant that i didn't have to know today how i would handle the first dinner out - i wasn't there yet. i didn't need to know what a tropical honeymoon without cigarettes would be - i wasn't there yet. and i developed an inherent trust that by the time i was there, i wouldn't be exactly the same as i was in the moment i was worrying about it. nothing stays the same - things would happen, life would fill in, my body and soul would help me build a bridge to a life without cigarettes.

i drew on that notion and the fact that it had proven true for me then in the weeks leading up to and following the surgery...i tried not to despair too much about how it would be at a dinner out when i couldn't order whatever i wanted, and then gorge myself again just a few hours later. i tried not to despair at the thought that i would never again be able to gorge on all-you-can-eat sushi or a chinese food order more fitting of a dinner party than a one man show. sometimes that effort worked and i pushed the thoughts away, reserving them for a time i could actually trust would be there - a time when i would be okay with all those thoughts. sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't.

but a funny thing has happened since i started introducing foods into my post-surgical diet, actually two funny things. the first is that i feel okay with the fact that i will never be able to binge again. i see ads for things all the time that i would have wanted before, and in the three week liquid diet, the sight of them might have brought me to tears with fear and anger and sadness. i'm okay with the fact that there are some things i will never eat again. it's a worthy trade-off and i feel that deep in my soul each time i encounter one of those foods. on the other hand, with all the books and message boards i've been reading, i see ways that successful bariatric patients still eat the things they like - a sushi roll with no rice, just the fish and vegetables, even wrapped in soy paper if preferred for added protein! the thought of it being one roll instead of ten is okay with me...i never thought that would happen, but it's happening. maybe i'll become a foodie!

and the other thing that's just so full circle - and i love me a good full circle - i find myself really enjoying watching food shows again, not fantasizing about the food and not even getting hungry watching it, but getting ideas and inspiration for starting to cook again, because that's a crucial part of this journey - using good, whole foods that are not packaged or processed, making my own food for the most part so that i know exactly what's in it and how much, and so that i am accountable and aware of everything i eat. nothing stays the same - watching food shows before fed an unhealthiness in me, so it had to stop. watching them right now is helping to fuel a healthy transformation, and i have to be ever-vigil that should that change, i will have to go on a food network hiatus again. nothing stays the same.

image from zazzle

eleven

walked 11 blocks today instead of taking the bus.

it's not that i couldn't have done that before, i just wouldn't have.

put a ring on it

today, not only am i wearing the ring i bought over the summer that never fit, it's getting loose.

i'm also wearing new pants i bought - size 22/24! i had to do it. all my pants were too big. good problem to have.

some physical changes on the not so happy side: my skin is so dry, lips are so chapped. i think it has something to do with the colder weather, but i also feel like it's related to some deficiency. i just have to keep taking my supplements and keep an eye on things.

also, i notice a much easier tendency to get nauseous. it comes in waves, especially when in motion. while i used to be able to sit facing either direction on the train, now i pretty exclusively have to be facing forward. and i've even had to stop reading on the train a few times (even my blackberry!) which has never been an issue.

still though, these are small adjustments to make to what is in some ways a new body. not bothering me at the moment...seems like a pretty fair tradeoff.

blue jeans, baby

i'm wearing jeans for the first time in three years today. feels pretty good. i think it draws my attention to how i feel smaller this week...like i take up less space. people aren't leaving the seat next to me on the train empty...they're sitting in it. they aren't moving out of a doorway to let me through anymore. feels good.

some other small victories that feel pretty big...

my engagement ring almost falls off when my hands are cold or wet and turns to the side all the time now.

i've already had to set aside a few pairs of pants that are too big to wear anymore.

i can wear regular flat shoes without excrutiating foot and knee pain.

i can wear the sunglasses i bought last summer that looked too small on my face then.

i can wear the winter coat i bought at an end-of-season sale three years ago and didn't fit into the next winter.

i don't find myself looking forward to meals. wow.

do i stay or do i go

not sure about weight watchers for me right now. when i first decided to go ahead with the surgery, one of my biggest pains and fears was that i might have to let go of weight watchers, which had become such a constant in my life. i was so relieved to know i could stay if i wanted to, and that my leader patty, always a source of strength and inspiration, would welcome my presence there even though i was going a different route.

i went to my regular meeting today for the first time in a couple months. between the liquid diet and pre-op appointments, then the surgery and recovery and some family obligations, i hadn't been back. although it was nice to be back and see familiar faces and soak in all the support, i'm not sure if it's the right place for me anymore. i'm not sure if my head is in a place that's similar to anyone there anymore. i wish the bariatric support group met more often, and although my original thinking was that maybe the weight watchers weekly meeting could fill in, i'm not so sure.

this much

the strangest thing happened the day before i was set to start eating soft foods...my mind did me a favor and flipped to a new way of seeing portions. as i roamed the aisles of the supermarket reading labels and analyzing packages for my new eating life, i was struck by how enormous the serving sizes looked to me. and i was equally struck by how only a couple months ago, i would have thought they were too small for me.

3 ounces of food doesn't look so small to me. it looks like a lot, actually. as dr. b emphatically tells me not to eat more than the size of the palm of my hand at one time, i think that seems like a lot. and i have small hands!

i guess this is all telling of my most serious problem to date, which is that i am not getting up to the 850-900 calories a day i need...waiting on some guidance from the message boards and doctor on that, and then the nutrish.

in regards to portion size, i am hopeful that because i can only eat this much, food will only be this much a part of my life.

kind of funny:

images from mount nittany and marc wellness

the life beyond

not feeling better yet. SO sore and tired and kind of depressed. can't really pinpoint exactly why but i think part of it is that i can't envision the life that's beyond this healing process which is already seeming so long and hard.

the morning after

BYPASS COMPLETED! dr. b was able to do the bypass, though i needed a drain which he didn't expect. basically that means there is a turkey baster hanging off of my stomach which drains the fluids from inside...not sure what they are, don't really want to know. basically, he got in fine, checked out my liver and went ahead with the "bottom connection," committing him to a bypass. but when he got up to the top one, my liver ended up being larger than expected and proved complicated to retract (part of the reason they put you on liquids before is to shrink your liver so it can more easily retracted during surgery to avoid obstructions and a nicked liver - EW!)

since he was already committed to the bypass (i think mentally too, since it was definitely my best option), he went ahead and all was fine, but just as an "insurance policy," he did the drain, meaning that if there was a leak, it would make me less sick by not leaking into my body. okay that's enough of the gross stuff.

after being wheeled through the hospital in bed to a different wing, i had my swallow test which confirmed that there were no leaks, so i finally got to have some water - an ounce every hour. thanks a lot. my mom and i pathetically rationed each ounce into four tiny sips - one every 15 minutes - so that i wouldn't run out before my next ounce. you could have set your watch to my time - every hour at the exact moment the second hand hit the 12, i buzzed the nurse and asked for my ice cold ounce of water. in between, they brought me refrigerated packages of lemon glycerine swabs to keep my mouth and lips wet. they were a lifesaver.

the pain is okay...especially with my self-controlled morphine pump. the thing that hurts most is getting up and sitting down, but my mom and i have discovered that the best way to do it is to lay flat on the bed and let the motorized movement do the work of propping me up or lowering me down. i take walks down the hall as i'm supposed to (starting at 2 in the morning at my own insistence) and the reward is a pretty view out the window at the end of the hall - some fall-colored trees and a church with a steeple - a glimpse at the world beyond the hospital walls. a world i would soon enter in a new way.

image from wikipedia

day of days

today is the day. my nerves are calmed, my mind is resigned to the fact that i won't know which procedure is done until i wake up. of course i'm still praying it's the bypass, and i'm wishing to god i could have a fucking sip of water (nope, not since midnight last night and the surgery isn't until 1 this afternoon!)

i smell coffee in the hospital waiting area and feel a longing sense of wonder - will i ever be able to have coffee again? the friend of a friend i spoke to a few days ago said she's never been able to have it comfortably again and she's seven years out. take my chinese food and pizza and and cupcakes, i've given it all up...even the cigarettes i said goodbye to five years ago, but please don't take my coffee. (the benefit of hindsight allows me to share that as i transfer my handwritten notes to this page, i'm sipping my delicious, beloved coffee with no problem at all).

it feels surreal this morning, definitely, but also peaceful. it's like the fear has drained out of me and now it's just about moving forward. i see dr. b in the hall of the hospital who asks if i'm ready. i say yes, and wonder aloud if he is too. he's ready. it's on.

i tell everyone who will listen that although i feel like i have to go to the bathroom, i can't. the nurse is about to strangle me because she's told me not to worry, but i just feel like it's only fair to let the people who will be handling my intestines know. dr. b laughs and says it's not him, maybe the nurses who will be impacted. no pun intended. any time someone asks me how i'm doing, i tell them i'm thirsty. i am SO thirsty. i ask when i can have some water, and they tell me tomorrow. they're not joking. curiosity killed the bypass patient.

with everyone aware of my bowel situation, my mouth a desert, and all the forms signed and sealed, i say goodbye to my mom and mitchell who have been amazing all day keeping me comfortable and laughing, and i am being wheeled in to my future, all alone. it might be the "martini" the anasthsiologist set me up with once i signed everything away, or the swirling realization that my life was about to change, but it's like i'm in another world, on another plane, and i drift off to sleep amid a slurred conversation about the nurse's favorite TV show...

image from www.newsweaver.co.uk

the day before

had my last appt with dr. b today who was charged up and ready to cut. i can tell he’s at his sharpest and strongest when he’s in surgical mode which i guess is a very good thing. he's happy with where my weight is going in (about 30 lbs down from the liquid diet) and tells me that he's 90% sure he'll do the bypass but that if its unsafe, he'll do the gastric sleeve. EXQUEEZE ME? i think upon hearing that i would have thrown up if there was anything in my body to throw up…smart to put me on liquids before dropping that bomb. somewhere in my racing mind, i suddenly remembered him saying this months ago - that they don't truly know what they're going to do until you're on the table because each person's anatomy is different, but...EXQUEEZE ME?

he further explains: if my stomach wall is too thick or my liver is too large, he'll go for the sleeve, a better option for higher risk, higher bmi patients. he assures me that he's done the bypass on patients heavier than me and with a higher bmi than me and it's all been fine, and he that he doesn't think it will be a problem, he just has to say it. have we met?

this causes me anxiety - obviously - not only because its uncertain, which i despise, but also because i had recently started to wonder more about the sleeve, which i had previously ruled out because it's results, statistically, aren't as profound as the bypass – it’s less invasive and while it’s restrictive like the bypass, it’s not malabsorptive. but my nutritionist had told me she knew of lots of people choosing the sleeve, which had had me wondering in the few weeks leading up to the big day. so when it came up that day, i mentioned it and dr. b said that insurance was approving it a lot these days, and that's the reason for the surge in popularity. he confirmed that the bypass was indeed the gold standard and the best option for me, and again reassured me he thought it would be fine.

the curve ball of this new possibility sent me into high anxiety mode where i wondered if i should take some more weight off via liquids and reschedule the surgery for a month or two later, though i feared that route because my presurgical nerves were already frayed and i worried that given an out, i might chicken out of the whole thing. sophie, dr. b’s PA reassured me that another 20 or 30 lbs would make no difference – it’s not really a matter of the weight, but more a matter of where you carry it, in my case, in my midsection. with that, i had no choice but to resign myself to the notion that whichever procedure it turned out to be would be the right one for me at that moment, and that i would make the very best of whichever one it was. dr. b assured me that although statistically the bypass had the best overall results (with the sleeve next in line, and then the lapband below that), nothing would stop me from achieving the same with the sleeve. nothing except me.

in a way, the added stress of dr. b’s unexpected announcement did me a favor because it became my distraction from the other nerves that were starting to mount, forming a painful lump in my throat as i plowed ahead, unable to see what was beyond tomorrow, beyond the blind curve ahead, because truly, by this point i know that no amount of preparation and reading and thinking and talking could possibly prepare me for what comes next.

most disturbing news of the day was this thought: if dr. b thinks it’s a good idea to lose some more weight and reschedule for a couple months down the road, i could have a solid meal tonight. what would i want?

OY.

image from trish berg

day 6 of pre-op liquid diet

i think the reason its been so hard - or one of the reasons - is that i've started to make eating a more central part of my daily life again by making vegetable soup for dinner, rather than just the shakes and some carrots or jello if i'm hungry. and i think eating the soup and more than eating it, knowing it's there and looking forward to it, it's making it worse.

iisolated at least one feeling this evening. anger. and there's no one to be angry at so it becomes anger towards myself, and although i don't readily feel that way, it didn't take long to arrive at why i might be - i think i'm angry, on some level, that i allowed myself to get into a situation where i have so few options. when my cravings and sadness was at a peak today as I got off the train, i found myself looking around at everyone and felt so jealous that they don't have to do what i have to do.

today was a hard day. day six, three days after the point where its supposed to get easier. actually, i wasn't hungry at all until today. although i was tired and sort of low energy all along, i was remarkably not hungry, and i was sort of wondering if i was getting off easy. then today came and i started off the day with a protein drink instead of a protein shake, and it made me not feel well and i didn't finish it and from then on i felt sick and hungry. i feel satisfied again now, after lots of vegetables and another protein shake, but the horrible, empty feelings came back like an old frenemy. all i could think about was food and i felt sad and scared that i would never have it the way i wanted it again. how depressing. then i cried hysterically in the car when mitchell picked me up and i think i feel a little better right now. looking forward to bed, and hoping that i don't feel scared and alone in the middle of the night.

technical difficulties

i really thought the hardest part was over since i felt so much better today. but the cravings are getting stronger and about ten minutes ago i found myself wondering if i was going to be able to survive this period - the lead-up to the surgery.

mitchell, himself feeling weak right now, did the exact wrong thing by asking if i thought having one meal tonight would help me to be able to move past the cravings, so of course that sent my mind spinning into a world it doesn't belong right now...sushi, pizza, chinese food. just the thought of even "just one meal" makes me angry at myself - how could i do that? although it kind of sucks, right now what would stop me is the idea that when people ask me how it's going, i'd have to lie if i said I've been on liquids since wednesday. very similar to when i quit smoking, the thought that if i went back, even for one, i would lose all the days of being smoke-free that i was so proud of.

i think the thing killing me about this horrible challenge mitchell unwittingly posed is that technically, it would be okay because tomorrow marks the two week mark, which is the official date by which I need to be on all liquids. but for me, that date was a week ago tomorrow because that's what Dr. B told me to do. so technically nothing. i have to rise above this. this is the moment i have to make it happen. i need to go into the surgery knowing in my soul that i did everything I was supposed to do.

what would ordering pizza get me tonight? reflux, a headache at 4 AM and a sinking feeling that i am not who i think i am. it's over, this nonsense. i'm not losing to that voice.

loopty loop

i've felt distinctly one way the last couple days, as i approach tomorrow, the day the liquids start (sounds biblical, doesn't it?) i feel like i'm on the slow, steady ride up a rollercoaster...i sort of know what's going to happen when i get to the top, but also have no idea. any doubts and fears i have are in vain now, because it's too late to change course. of course if i really changed my mind i could, but there's not a chance in hell that's happening. i know what i need to do, and i'm doing it. in that way, it reminds me of a feeling i've had before...

in the days leading up to when i quit smoking four and a half years ago, i had almost the exact same feelings i have right now - excited, nervous, in a little bit of disbelief, and totally unclear on how i was about to do what i was about to do. but in this case too, although i don't know exactly how i'm going to do it, i know i'm going to, with a great, strong, proud certainty. i won't know exactly how until i get there, and i'm done trying to scramble for ways to fully embrace and immerse myself in what is about to be - because i've accepted that where i stand today, i haven't a chance of doing that. i'll only know once i get there, so off i go.

a reminder to my future self

if at some point i'm feeling depressed about not having food to use the way i always have, i am hoping i can remember how trapped i often felt by my desire to eat. of course i feel trapped by my size and my limitations, the judgements of others and the hopelessness i've sometimes felt, but i've also felt trapped by the desire itself. it's something that's almost always there, and especially recently, it's there even when i don't want it to be, when i'm not taking pleasure in it anymore. where are i am with this disorder at this moment in time feels the way it must feel to be on a thrill ride and decide you want to get off before it goes upside down. it's been so many years since i've been on a ride like that - so many years since i could fit in an amusement park ride, exactly 4 years since i've even tried.

there are times these days, especially leading up to the surgery, that i'm tired and i want to go to bed early, but then when would i eat the thing i've been looking forward to? or on a weekend day, i want to take a nap and lounge around without stress about the time, but i always find myself aware of it because i want to make sure i have enough time to have dinner -- would never want to miss a meal! -- and then stay awake digesting so my reflux doesn't act up when i recline to go to bed.

i look forward to wednesday when i start on liquids, and to every day after that when i am not a slave to food. i'm not fooling myself in thinking that i will always welcome this absence. but where i stand at the moment, i can't wait to be free of feeling compelled to eat, whether i'm hungry or not sometimes, and have a schedule and a flow of time that has nothing to do with it. i want to remember the feeling of being weighed down when i want to feel light, and remember that it is a gift i'm being given to move towards always feeling that lightness of being.

i'm also not fooling myself in thinking that the surgery is a magic bullet in any way. all the factors that made my relationship with food a miswired, toxic one will still be with me, and i will need to find new ways of coping with feelings i don't want. i know all this, and the work i've done over the last couple of years has helped me form a foundation on which to build a healthier path. but i also think it's one of those things where the physical change of the surgery is the first chapter - the inability to use the food in that way has to come first. if i were able to impose that behavior change on myself to create long-lasting change, i would have done it already, i know that for sure.

when i no longer have the frenemy that food has been, i will be forced to cope in other ways, and my commitment and dedication to understanding and change, my commitment to life really, will help me process it and make it real. make it who i am.

i have to think all this is true. because it makes sense, and because what's the alternative?

just do it

the support group tonight was a good, long one. the post-op people had some great stuff to say, and i want to make sure i remember it all. of course i took notes on all the pre-op instructions and the tips they had, but the overarching messages of hope and strength are what i really need to remember and carry with me.

julie, the unbelievably successful woman who has lost 260 lbs since her surgery about two and a half years ago really stressed how she follows all the rules. she said she's does everything to the letter and that she has a four bite rule. the first bite is to see if its good, and worth it. the second bite is to make sure it's good. the third bite is to really savor and enjoy it, and the fourth is the last, i guess to say goodbye. she said she almost never makes it to the second bite.

there was another woman there who went skydiving with her daughter after having the bypass just over a year ago. she said this to all the pre-op people: whatever you're wrestling with, whichever procedure you're considering, just do it. do it.

i'm doing it.

end of the line

i'm struggling - i feel like i can't stop eating. and i know it's related to the fact that in two weeks, i can't eat anymore (all liquids for 3 weeks pre and 4 weeks post surgery) and then obviously everything will be different. i'm so excited about the surgery and i know its going to be great but i guess i'm also sort of mourning the loss of my friend.

every time i have a craving, i tell myself "well, this will probably be the last time i can have this" and so i give myself permission. on one hand, i feel so guilty about it because this is the worst time to be regressing and makes me feel like i'm not ready for this change. but on the other hand, i feel like it's understandable and i don't want to fight myself on it too hard because i don't want to enter the liquid phase feeling deprived.

i know i need to stop, i keep on telling myself that but then i do it all over again. i just feel depressed and weak when i want to feel excited and strong.

on deciding

for the longest time, i ignored what every doctor said to me...that the chances of me losing the weight i'd need to, and maintaining that loss for life were slim to none...that statistically speaking the odds were against me...that i really ought to consider weight loss surgery while i was still healthy.

part of it was pride - i didn't want help, i felt that i could do it on my own. i had already lost 130 pounds on weight watchers once and i could do it again. i knew how to do it. i didn't want an easy way out. i didn't want to have to change everything about my life. i wanted to be normal. as i continued to struggle though, every day, my concept of normal was being tested - put best by my longtime doctor who was pushing the idea of surgery, my current weight and lifestyle "isn't normal either."

then one day in february of this year, i sat in a hair salon with my mother who saw every ounce of depression and exhaustion and shame on my face. she told me that she knew how hard i'd been working at this, and that it was really time to have some return on that investment, that i deserved it, and she encouraged me to consider the surgery again. although the next few weeks of information sessions and appointments and reading and talking were key, i think i had truly made the decision in that very moment.
the first crucial thing that happened was that i quickly realized that this was no easy way out - as if there could be such a thing with something like a lifelong struggle with weight. i came to understand that it would take work and a lot of it. it would take patience and learning and growth, the same way a "normal" weight loss would, and in some ways, even more so. i realized that i would still be able to take ownership over my weight loss, and feel proud of it and responsible for it - after all, it would be my decision to have the surgery, my decision to follow the rules and change my life, my decision to live and stay healthy.

around the same time, i did a lot of reading on binge eating and accepted that it's a disorder i have, and have had for as long as i can remember. although carrie, my therapist, had always talked about it this way, i think i disassociated when i heard the word "disorder" and maybe just wasn't able to accept it until this point in time. and when i did, when i accepted that not everything about my weight was my fault, the most incredible thing happened...the shame was gone. all these years, although i've been strong and confident in many ways, and have always loved myself and been proud of who i am, i've also carried such shame about my weight and what it says about me - to the world, to my friends and family, to myself; such shame about being such a perfectionist and an achiever in so many ways, and failing so miserably at this, though it was what i wanted more than anything in the world. and in the moment i understood and believed that there were factors out of my control, the shame went away, and its absnce made me more capable of taking help, and of claiming power over my disorder. if i wasn't ashamed anymore of the problem, nothing was stopping me from moving towards a solution.

in our talks about it in the early days of the plan, mitchell told me what a brave choice he thought it was...and that made a tremendous impact on the way i felt about it. being able to frame it as something brave and strong made me feel so good, and made me excited about the choice. he even felt inspired by me enough to start his own workout regimen and get healthy, and he now looks incredible, feels like a different person and is in a totally healthy weight range for his height. amazing.

as i got educated, i also learned that many of the people who are candidates for surgery have my background - many of them have lost a ton of weight at some point and gained it back, and then some. i realized that one of the things that made me feel like i didn't need the surgery was actually a sign that i did - a large, unmaintained weight loss is just part of the profile. well-meaning friends had always stressed how i had done it before and how i shouldn't deny myself credit for that accomplishment, but i have always felt that the true accomplishment of weight loss is keeping it off.

when i ultimately decided that i knew this was for me was when i realized that so much of my pride about doing it on my own was coming from the fact that i always need to feel like the best at everything i do, and accepting help in this way was to me, a failure. but i started to realize that that need of mine - to excel, to be number one, to be perfect - was an overcompensation for my feelings about my weight. it was like i was already using up the one flaw i was allowed, so i had to make up for it and be amazing every second of every day.

but when i began to think of the profound ways in which my life could change - really change, not just if-i-lose-the-weight-one-day change, but for real - i had a true moment of realization - i don't need to be the one in a million person who beats the odds and loses more than half my weight without surgery. i don't need that. what i do need to be is healthy and happy and strong. i need to have a family, and be healthy and able to raise children and be around for them when they're my age and older. i don't need to be an overachiever in this way - i can just be myself, someone who struggles, who has struggled for a very long time and wants to stop struggling so hard.

summer nights

it's hard to explain exactly how i felt last night...it was fajita night...which means tequila night and my whole family was happy and celebrating. we were on vacation and happy to all be together..music playing, laughter flowing and the tastiest of foods on the grill. but i was depressed, and alone.

in talking about it with molly and mitchell at different points of the night, i think i established that it mainly stems from not knowing who i am in the types of social situations i find myself in. before my throat surgery (removal of a pre-cancerous legion on one of my vocal folds) i used to dominate group situations with my voice, my humor, my stories. i also used to like drinking with the rest of my family, sometimes too much, i'll admit. but when i started having to change the way i use my voice, coupled with my continous attempts to lose weight, drinking became something that just worked against me, rather than for me.

now as i think about what lies ahead for me, i wonder after my surgery how i will be, who i will be, in these situations. not drinking, hardly eating, talking carefully...seems lonely and sad and unsure.

a sensible dinner

i feel like i'm never in the mood for the things i'm supposed to eat. i manage to enjoy the greek yogurt and kashi in the morning, but i am never, and i mean never, in the mood for the shake at lunch. and at dinner, 4 ounces of protein and lots of vegetables feel like work. and i guess it is work, and maybe it's supposed to be. so i end up with something that's sort of like that, but probably not as strict as it should be.

i feel like it's a rebellion in my mind...everything seems like a good idea when i buy it - salad ingredients, chicken, turkey, fresh fruit...and then i roll my eyes at the thought of it.

so what do i want to be eating? i don't even know. not junk. i'm not craving bad-for-me things, i'm just so unenticed by the things i should be eating, that i end up losing focus and making choices that i'd classify as "okay." that's why i'm thinking in some ways it might be best to just move toward the all-liquid phase. could be easier...less thought, less contemplation, less back and forth. i'm just tired of the back and forth.

image from http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/

thinking thin

i want to buy one of each for some thin day in the future.

top image from halston heritage, bottom image from tory burch

80 percent

this is not a pizza. it's also not a pie. it is a visual representation of something my nutritionist and i talked about last night.

in thinking about my upcoming trip to paris, we talked about different approaches to eating and food while i'm there. i know that without a doubt, i do not want to overeat. i want to use weight watchers points as a gauge for my choices, as i've been doing, because i need that kind of barometer. i refuse to look at this trip as being about caloric indulgence - it's coming at too crucial a moment in my life to regress that way. in order to truly enjoy myself, i know i need to take good care of myself on this trip and eat right so i can feel my best, body and soul.

adrienne, my nutritionist, was concerned that i not "diet" while in paris for only five days and make sure to try new things and enjoy them. she's not of the opinion, like some health nuts are, that food is fuel, and only fuel. she believes that food serves a purpose and should make sense, but should also be enjoyed. i think i agree.

so we went deeper into a discussion on this "80 percent" idea that she's mentioned before...that thin people who are thin and stay thin - whether through bypass or other means - employ this 80% mentality, or whatever their own version of it is. simply put, it's that the vast majority of the time, you make good food choices, not wasting calories in mundane situations or on everyday foods. but then once in a while, you have the 20 percent, which are standalone occassions - a holiday, a wedding, a vacation -where you allow yourself to try things, to indulge (within very reasonable reason), and you're okay because of what you do the vast majority of the time.

although what she's saying makes total sense to me -- that's 100% sense, not just 80% -- it worries me too. i worry that i can't trust myself - that my disordered way of thinking about food will convince my otherwise smart, level-headed self that 20% is a much bigger piece of the pie (graph) than it is. but then, maybe that's part of the evolution i need to go through, because deep down, i think i know what 20% is.

but because adrienne knew that looking at paris as five days of 20% was too much for me, she suggested the most brilliant thing...break down paris itself into 80% and 20%...which means that for breakfast, i'll have my cereal/yogurt combo, and for lunch, i'll eat very light so that i can taste a croissant and a macaron, and have a special french dinner.

i think this concept is going to be revolutionary for me (and yes, i recognize weight watchers has it's own form of it in flex points, but this just resonates). i think it has the potential to translate in my real, stateside life when i'm at target buying toilet paper and a piece of chocolate feels appealling...does that moment, charmin in hand, feel like a 20% moment, or would i rather save it for a few bites of dessert at a wedding that weekend?

i realize this isn't a perfect way of looking at it, and i'm cautious of the fact that it still in some way uses food as a means of celebration, but i do appreciate it for its natural fit in the real world and in the real life of a healthy person...one i hope to be one day in the not too distant future.

photo from the mirror uk

fall from grace

i fell on the bus this morning. it was a silly kind of thing, something that could have happened to anyone. i've seen it happen to anyone. it's a rainy, humid morning and i guess the wet soles of my new fit flops (which i'm in the process of breaking in) combined with the slick floors of the bus did me in. i tried to grab the pole when i felt myself slipping but i couldn't save myself and down i went.

it didn't hurt at all, actually. i don't know if it was all my fellow commuters trying to cushion the blow or just the lucky way i fell, but i was in no physical pain. all i could think about as i went down was how huge i must have looked and what a scene this was going to be. it's probably the one time i wished new yorkers weren't so nice and ready to jump in to help. as everyone tried to help me up and make sure i was okay, all i wanted was to be invisible and for them to stop helping me, since really, they couldn't help me. i had to hoist myself up - on the wet floor, with wet hands, in my wet shoes...

there are few things worse than feeling fully exposed and embarassed, and having to take further actions that create more of those feelings...as in, i had to get myself up. with all those people watching. it wasn't graceful.

luckily, i'm in no physical pain but my heart hurts a little, the way it did the other day when a teenage girl on the street yelled "you're fat, lose some weight." sounds horrible, right? but i didn't think things like that bothered me until i started sharing them with other people as a part of this new part of my journey (i hate that word when it comes to this, but it really is pretty fitting). it's like if no one else knows about these little injuries to my soul, maybe they don't exist. but they do.

motivation

photos from www.msnbc.com, courtesy of kelley raver

a tall glass of water

at the suggestion of the nutritionist i'm working with, i have stopped drinking diet sodas (except for one at a bar last weekend) and am in the process of weaning off of all forms of artificial sugars. she says they make you fat. not sure why yet, though i plan on asking more since i (and everyone i've mentioned it to) am very curious.

i like the idea of cutting out junky ingredients that are not really food, but chemicals. it makes sense with the way i've been moving in terms of educating myself about what's in the foods we eat. i also know that by limiting my intake of sweet foods, i will be "resetting my sweetstat," according to the excellent book crave, which i recently read.

i am definitely feeling better as i'm eliminating these fake sugars and carbonated drinks...i remember my weight watchers leader once saying that when she cut them out, all her muscle and joint pain went away. i hadn't thought about that until this morning, but i have to say, it's remarkably true. my knees aren't aching and walking downstairs doesn't hurt all over.

i'm also loving water. i mean looooooving it, which is totally new. it's so interesting how you can sort of tell your body what to do. drink water, i tell myself. and so that's what i'm starting to crave. serving it to myself in a nice carafe and sipping it with a straw makes it extra nice.

photo from photobucket

circle of trust

tonight, i attended my first support group meeting at the office of the surgeon who will be doing my gastric bypass surgery. i was surprisingly quiet in the room, highly unusual for me. it was nice to be sitting in a circle of people (literally, the chairs were arranged in a circle) who were all in the same boat, not a common occurence for me in the rest of the world. it was nice to not feel like anyone was looking at me for my size, and the chairs in their office are generously sized...comfortable. i suppose that's no coincidence.

it's amazing to think that one day, chair size might not be an issue for me at all, nor will other peoples' stares. i have only the vaguest of memories of that life when i lost 130 pounds on weight watchers and weighed 197...for about five minutes.

it was interesting the way i felt tonight - on one hand, i was very comfortable and felt totally accepted. on the other hand, many of the people in the room had already had their surgeries, so i was a little on the outside. as opposed to my weight watchers meeting where i feel totally on the inside, but not fully understood, since at 370 pounds, my weight problem is different than most of the people there.

i think this support group will provide a cushion for me when i inevitably have to say goodbye to weight watchers. i'm happy i'll still have a circle to be a part of.