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
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