I received an unusual birthday gift last week. It wasn't unexpected, but I was not truly prepared for the magnitude of the gift. No, it wasn't the realization that I was turning 60. It was the printed version of my diet plan for the next few weeks.
I had a final meeting with the dietitian that will also serve as my dietary liaison during my adjustment period. My surgery is set for mid January, and prior to that I need to "shrink" the fat out of my liver in order to make the surgery easier. You ideally want to lose 20 pounds fairly rapidly, so you are given a very strict liquid protein diet regimen to follow. I decided that since I have been very naughty this holiday season I had better start early! I really need to clean the inner house that is me.
In order to make this successful, I first needed to clean my outer house and remove all temptations. I started with the pantry. It was pretty good with the exception of the pancake makings. But it was almost gone, so not too bad a problem there. The crackers and wafers were stale, so they were tossed in the trash. Spaghetti pasta - well if I push it way back on the top shelf it will be out of sight and hopefully out of mind.
The fridge and freezer was a whole different ballgame. I looked at all the butters and jams that I loved so much on toast and biscuits. I kept one jar of apple butter for company, the rest was either given to friends or tossed. The egg nog was getting old, so it won't be missed. Mayonnaise, real and lite, gone. Biscuits, canned and frozen, gone. Baking potatoes, ditto.
The Christmas cookies that I still had left from my binge eating, put in baggies in the freezer and buried under the frozen meats that I hope will still be good in another month.
I cooked the last Texas-sized ribeye as a birthday gift to me. I cooked the ham for Christmas, but did save the bone for homemade soup when I am allowed to have more solid food. I still have a few bacon and eggs to devour before January 5th. Of course, that won't do much for my head start dieting.
I have learned one thing since starting this journey. If I crave it, I absolutely cannot have it where I can easily reach it. I have NO willpower, but since the grocery store is eight miles OTB (over the bridge to the mainland) it is much easier to resist the temptation to go out and buy some more. There has not been a bag of chips in my house since before Thanksgiving, and the last of the sodas will be gone by New Years.
Aside from chewing actual food, I think I am going to miss my Zero Coke the most. Can't have carbonation, since it stretches the stomach, which is a no-no!
So my outer house cleaning is definitely going to help clean my inner house. I wonder how long it will be before I can be a 2F? I already lost one F if you count hair color, since I am no longer a true blond after my last trip to the stylist.
Wow, going down to a 2F will mean some serious shopping. I had better get that job sooner than later. That'll be fun!
I may still be a SWF, but I am gonna get me some style!
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
A New "Do" Does Not Make a New "You"
As Christmas Day approaches, I am more determined than ever to start my New Year on December 26th. I need to seriously commit to losing weight before my mid-January surgery, and I need to shed my old eating habits. This is difficult this week because I am so broke that I decided that the only gifts I could give were cookies that I made. But, since I haven't baked in a very long time, I just simply had to sample one from each batch to ensure quality control. And since I have no self control I now must make my way back to the grocery store for more cookie fixings. Can't blame this one on the Cookie Monster!
I did take a day off last week for an appointment with my hair stylist because my roots were showing up more than my highlights! I was very naturally blonde until around twenty or so, and my hair has gotten darker every year since. I started highlighting by the time I turned thirty, and have been a proud blonde ever since. Of course, since I turn sixty tomorrow, I still consider the blonde streaks as keeping me light headed instead of hiding my gray hair. But I digress...
This time I decided that in addition to a new cut, I also needed a little perking up for the new me. I decided to put a little golden-red streaks in with the other highlights. Except when it came out, for some reason my hair turned more pink than either blonde or red. I may be turning sixty but I am sooo not ready for pink curls! So, in order to fix the pink we put on a more auburn rinse, but we kept needing more and more until suddenly there was no blonde left. Therefore, the new me is now a coppery redhead!
With a new hair color comes some unforseen problems that only us girls will understand. You guys simply don't care. But we girls buy clothes and makeup to match our colors. Since I had been a blonde for thirty years, I was not prepared for how much my red Christmas shirts clashed with my hair! And we won't even talk about the lipstick shades. And anything I buy now will be too big for me in a few months.
I went for a job interview today. My bed is full of discarded tops that simply didn't go with the new me/do. The school that I last taught at had purple and gold as their spirit colors, so my closet is full of purple "things." And no offense all you true "red hatters" but purple and red combos do absolutely nothing for me.
I finally found something I could wear but then realized that I needed to find a different shade of lip gloss. Thank heavens I didn't succumb to my thinking that I should throw out all those old tubes of Avon! New eyeshadow color is now on my grocery list, right next to the sugar cookie mix.
My friends have had mixed emotions. Some love it, some hate it, and still a few others state that it doesn't matter. And it occurred to me that Mr. Spock was right. A difference that makes no difference IS no difference. New hair didn't make me a different person. And neither will lap-band make me different. What will be different is the (mis)perceptions that I have as to how people will view me. But I am now beginning to realize that this is MY problem, not theirs. The family and friends that matter the most will love me no matter what I look like, and they realize I am doing this not to change my looks but to improve my health.
Of course, it has taken quite a few cookies to realize that.
Oh well, the grocery store is just over the bridge!
Merry Christmas, everybody!
I did take a day off last week for an appointment with my hair stylist because my roots were showing up more than my highlights! I was very naturally blonde until around twenty or so, and my hair has gotten darker every year since. I started highlighting by the time I turned thirty, and have been a proud blonde ever since. Of course, since I turn sixty tomorrow, I still consider the blonde streaks as keeping me light headed instead of hiding my gray hair. But I digress...
This time I decided that in addition to a new cut, I also needed a little perking up for the new me. I decided to put a little golden-red streaks in with the other highlights. Except when it came out, for some reason my hair turned more pink than either blonde or red. I may be turning sixty but I am sooo not ready for pink curls! So, in order to fix the pink we put on a more auburn rinse, but we kept needing more and more until suddenly there was no blonde left. Therefore, the new me is now a coppery redhead!
With a new hair color comes some unforseen problems that only us girls will understand. You guys simply don't care. But we girls buy clothes and makeup to match our colors. Since I had been a blonde for thirty years, I was not prepared for how much my red Christmas shirts clashed with my hair! And we won't even talk about the lipstick shades. And anything I buy now will be too big for me in a few months.
I went for a job interview today. My bed is full of discarded tops that simply didn't go with the new me/do. The school that I last taught at had purple and gold as their spirit colors, so my closet is full of purple "things." And no offense all you true "red hatters" but purple and red combos do absolutely nothing for me.
I finally found something I could wear but then realized that I needed to find a different shade of lip gloss. Thank heavens I didn't succumb to my thinking that I should throw out all those old tubes of Avon! New eyeshadow color is now on my grocery list, right next to the sugar cookie mix.
My friends have had mixed emotions. Some love it, some hate it, and still a few others state that it doesn't matter. And it occurred to me that Mr. Spock was right. A difference that makes no difference IS no difference. New hair didn't make me a different person. And neither will lap-band make me different. What will be different is the (mis)perceptions that I have as to how people will view me. But I am now beginning to realize that this is MY problem, not theirs. The family and friends that matter the most will love me no matter what I look like, and they realize I am doing this not to change my looks but to improve my health.
Of course, it has taken quite a few cookies to realize that.
Oh well, the grocery store is just over the bridge!
Merry Christmas, everybody!
Monday, December 13, 2010
Tis the Season to Be Cleaning
Most of the rest of the country knows when winter arrives. They don't need a calendar; they only have to look out their front door. But it's a little different down in the South, and especially here on Padre Island.
We look out the door and wonder when our plants will stop growing until spring and are we going to have to call the lawn guy for still another trim. Our snow is usually in the form of blowing sand. Stings as bad, but hey, we get a free facial from the biting sand, and our glow and rosy red cheeks are considered healthy. We don't hardly ever worry about frostbite.
That being said, most of us have decided to turn off the air conditioning and let a little fresh air in during the day. Since I had indeed done just that, I was very comfortable in my lounger watching Christmas movies and occasionally checking on the football scores. It was a very relaxing day..... and then I had to look up!
The amount of the dust and dirt on my now-turned-off ceiling fans was horrendous. Those that know me understand that house cleaning is not really my forte, and that I only seriously clean when even I cannot stand it! So you can imagine how bad it was if I had to use the word "horrendous" to describe them. I decided that Monday was not going to be wash day but dust day.
Now when you are a SWF, this is the time that you really miss not having a man around. The high ceilings require me to get up on a ladder to reach the fans. And because I am a short 4-F I must climb up a little higher than is comfortable for me, especially for my weight and age. I fell off a ladder once, right over the soft grass covering the septic tank. It was then that I learned that Erma Bombeck was right when she said the grass was always greener there! But I also fell down the school stairs (from my own carelessness and inattention) right before I retired, and I know how painful that is when there is no green grass.
Nevertheless, I was determined to do what I set out to do and to prove to all the nay-sayers that I may be turning 60 but I am still self-sufficient. However, being a little chicken about heights, I only went up to the second step, which was not high enough to be above the fans. I stretched and dusted as best I could, but then the trouble began.
What I want to know is this: how did all those rabbits get in to create all those dust bunnies?? Or maybe it was the blizzard of the Great Lakes that decided to come visit us at the beach. I only knew that it was sooo heavy that I couldn't see. I swiped the duster across a blade, then ducked as those bunnies decided to bounce onto the couch. I was coughing and waving so much that I forgot I was standing on the ladder.
Fortunately I caught myself before I fell off, but then I looked at the eggplant purple couch. Somehow the dirty gray didn't exactly match, so I climbed off the ladder and cleaned the couch only to remember that I had only dusted the first blade.
So it went for the next half hour as I cleaned the fans. Which leads me to the gist of this musing. One act begets another, and another, and so forth. Cause and Effect. Now I must re-dust the furniture, clean the floors and rugs, and since one fan was near the kitchen, clean the dirty dust that stuck to everything around it because of a layer of grease from cooking. By this time you realize you might as well go all the way and clean the entire house.
So it is with eating and food choices. Each choice we make with the food we eat has a cause and effect relationship with you and your body. Bored? Reach for the chips. Stressed? Zero Coke works for me. Ashamed? Well, don't let anybody see you eating those oatmeal raisin cookies. And after many years of this behavior, you think that it doesn't make one bit of difference what you eat anymore because you have done it all wrong for years and why stop now?
I go see the lap-band surgeon in a couple of days. I think that I will start the "cleaning' of my body and eating habits. Before the surgery, you must go on a 2 week meal(s) replacement regimin to make the surgery easier (more on that next time).
I tried to be "good" during Thanksgiving, cooking more healthy, but it only lasted a few days. Temptations are tough this time of year. You meet with friends for snacks and drinks. Want a little something in that eggnog? Indulge, it only happens once a year! And did your mama happen to make her world famous cheesecake dessert? Oh yeah, I am going to that party for sure.
Because I don't have to worry about those extra pounds. They are going to start disappearing soon. My cleaning time is about to really begin. And from that point on, I will be in a permanent cleaning mode. No more seasonal weaknesses. No more binges. Only sensible choices can be made if you want to be successful with the lap-band.
Yep, tis the season to be cleanining. Fa La La La La - La La La - BLAH!
We look out the door and wonder when our plants will stop growing until spring and are we going to have to call the lawn guy for still another trim. Our snow is usually in the form of blowing sand. Stings as bad, but hey, we get a free facial from the biting sand, and our glow and rosy red cheeks are considered healthy. We don't hardly ever worry about frostbite.
That being said, most of us have decided to turn off the air conditioning and let a little fresh air in during the day. Since I had indeed done just that, I was very comfortable in my lounger watching Christmas movies and occasionally checking on the football scores. It was a very relaxing day..... and then I had to look up!
The amount of the dust and dirt on my now-turned-off ceiling fans was horrendous. Those that know me understand that house cleaning is not really my forte, and that I only seriously clean when even I cannot stand it! So you can imagine how bad it was if I had to use the word "horrendous" to describe them. I decided that Monday was not going to be wash day but dust day.
Now when you are a SWF, this is the time that you really miss not having a man around. The high ceilings require me to get up on a ladder to reach the fans. And because I am a short 4-F I must climb up a little higher than is comfortable for me, especially for my weight and age. I fell off a ladder once, right over the soft grass covering the septic tank. It was then that I learned that Erma Bombeck was right when she said the grass was always greener there! But I also fell down the school stairs (from my own carelessness and inattention) right before I retired, and I know how painful that is when there is no green grass.
Nevertheless, I was determined to do what I set out to do and to prove to all the nay-sayers that I may be turning 60 but I am still self-sufficient. However, being a little chicken about heights, I only went up to the second step, which was not high enough to be above the fans. I stretched and dusted as best I could, but then the trouble began.
What I want to know is this: how did all those rabbits get in to create all those dust bunnies?? Or maybe it was the blizzard of the Great Lakes that decided to come visit us at the beach. I only knew that it was sooo heavy that I couldn't see. I swiped the duster across a blade, then ducked as those bunnies decided to bounce onto the couch. I was coughing and waving so much that I forgot I was standing on the ladder.
Fortunately I caught myself before I fell off, but then I looked at the eggplant purple couch. Somehow the dirty gray didn't exactly match, so I climbed off the ladder and cleaned the couch only to remember that I had only dusted the first blade.
So it went for the next half hour as I cleaned the fans. Which leads me to the gist of this musing. One act begets another, and another, and so forth. Cause and Effect. Now I must re-dust the furniture, clean the floors and rugs, and since one fan was near the kitchen, clean the dirty dust that stuck to everything around it because of a layer of grease from cooking. By this time you realize you might as well go all the way and clean the entire house.
So it is with eating and food choices. Each choice we make with the food we eat has a cause and effect relationship with you and your body. Bored? Reach for the chips. Stressed? Zero Coke works for me. Ashamed? Well, don't let anybody see you eating those oatmeal raisin cookies. And after many years of this behavior, you think that it doesn't make one bit of difference what you eat anymore because you have done it all wrong for years and why stop now?
I go see the lap-band surgeon in a couple of days. I think that I will start the "cleaning' of my body and eating habits. Before the surgery, you must go on a 2 week meal(s) replacement regimin to make the surgery easier (more on that next time).
I tried to be "good" during Thanksgiving, cooking more healthy, but it only lasted a few days. Temptations are tough this time of year. You meet with friends for snacks and drinks. Want a little something in that eggnog? Indulge, it only happens once a year! And did your mama happen to make her world famous cheesecake dessert? Oh yeah, I am going to that party for sure.
Because I don't have to worry about those extra pounds. They are going to start disappearing soon. My cleaning time is about to really begin. And from that point on, I will be in a permanent cleaning mode. No more seasonal weaknesses. No more binges. Only sensible choices can be made if you want to be successful with the lap-band.
Yep, tis the season to be cleanining. Fa La La La La - La La La - BLAH!
Monday, December 6, 2010
The Waiting Game
Have you ever noticed how much time you spend waiting? I have been thinking about that an awful lot lately. I waited to find out what was wrong with me. Then I waited until they could schedule time to fix it. Waited until I got better, until I could retire until....
We wait, and we wait, and wait.
I was sitting in the ferry line this morning, waiting for the barge to cross and unload its cargo so I could get on it and wait until we got to the other side. I was on my way to Portland to give some of my books to a quaint little shop called Books Ink. It was to be the first one to carry my book. I was excited, and wanted the waiting to be over with. But then, a weird thing happened.
The dolphins were playing in the wake. They were in no hurry. They were just having fun. And it occurred to me how very lucky they were. They were safe in the waterway. They didn't have to wait for boats. They could go around or under it. They didn't have to worry about their health when they were in the crossing area. People watched over them. They simply just existed in the moment. Why can't we humans be that carefree?
I have always been a hurry up and get 'er done kind of person. So this waiting to lose weight is beginning to take its toll on my resolve. I find myself shopping and seeing a top that I really want, only to realize if I spend some of my money on it now, I will hopefully only be able to wear it a couple of months. Better to wait.
I find myself planning what I really want to eat a lot of before I can't have it for a while. And let me remind you, it is the holiday season... parties, get-togethers, etc! I reach for that extra chip, and believe me when I tell you I do NOT wait to plop it in my mouth. Then, after I have gobbled it down, I remind myself that I need to lose those two pounds I lost before Thanksgiving, plus the two pounds gained after the Big Meal, and oh, wait a minute, I have to do that by the 15th!
I so want to be like the dolphins - happy and carefree. It's hard to do when you are severely overweight, and you have a guilt trip every time you turn around. And your friends try to be supportive when you tell them you'd better not eat that, but watching them eat and enjoy doesn't make me happy.
And it reminds me that I WILL have to wait to see results. I didn't gain this fat overnight, and it ain't gonna fall off in a month. Waiting is going to be hard. That is where my support group is going to help. And the key will be to stay busy, exercise, use common sense in eating. What you eat as well as how much you eat.
If you are patient, it will happen. If you follow the rules, it will happen. If you lose weight, you will be happy. And as much as I tell myself that I am happy with my body, deep down I know it is a lie. I want to be able to shop in a regular size shop, not the women's section. I want to be able to walk a block without my knees killing me. I want to be happy enough that I want to exercise and get the endorphins pumping and flowing. I want to have people look at me and grin at how much weight I have lost. God help me, I think I even want them to be envious!
Only another few weeks and the hard part starts. In the mean time, I guess it is back to the exercise bike to try to lose those extra holiday pounds.
I can't wait!
We wait, and we wait, and wait.
I was sitting in the ferry line this morning, waiting for the barge to cross and unload its cargo so I could get on it and wait until we got to the other side. I was on my way to Portland to give some of my books to a quaint little shop called Books Ink. It was to be the first one to carry my book. I was excited, and wanted the waiting to be over with. But then, a weird thing happened.
The dolphins were playing in the wake. They were in no hurry. They were just having fun. And it occurred to me how very lucky they were. They were safe in the waterway. They didn't have to wait for boats. They could go around or under it. They didn't have to worry about their health when they were in the crossing area. People watched over them. They simply just existed in the moment. Why can't we humans be that carefree?
I have always been a hurry up and get 'er done kind of person. So this waiting to lose weight is beginning to take its toll on my resolve. I find myself shopping and seeing a top that I really want, only to realize if I spend some of my money on it now, I will hopefully only be able to wear it a couple of months. Better to wait.
I find myself planning what I really want to eat a lot of before I can't have it for a while. And let me remind you, it is the holiday season... parties, get-togethers, etc! I reach for that extra chip, and believe me when I tell you I do NOT wait to plop it in my mouth. Then, after I have gobbled it down, I remind myself that I need to lose those two pounds I lost before Thanksgiving, plus the two pounds gained after the Big Meal, and oh, wait a minute, I have to do that by the 15th!
I so want to be like the dolphins - happy and carefree. It's hard to do when you are severely overweight, and you have a guilt trip every time you turn around. And your friends try to be supportive when you tell them you'd better not eat that, but watching them eat and enjoy doesn't make me happy.
And it reminds me that I WILL have to wait to see results. I didn't gain this fat overnight, and it ain't gonna fall off in a month. Waiting is going to be hard. That is where my support group is going to help. And the key will be to stay busy, exercise, use common sense in eating. What you eat as well as how much you eat.
If you are patient, it will happen. If you follow the rules, it will happen. If you lose weight, you will be happy. And as much as I tell myself that I am happy with my body, deep down I know it is a lie. I want to be able to shop in a regular size shop, not the women's section. I want to be able to walk a block without my knees killing me. I want to be happy enough that I want to exercise and get the endorphins pumping and flowing. I want to have people look at me and grin at how much weight I have lost. God help me, I think I even want them to be envious!
Only another few weeks and the hard part starts. In the mean time, I guess it is back to the exercise bike to try to lose those extra holiday pounds.
I can't wait!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Stuffing the Turkey
If you are a first time reader, you probably are thinking that this is all about the Big Meal and wondering why is she telling me how to stuff a turkey now, 5 days later. Well read on...
The turkey that got stuffed was ME.
Part of me thinks that I can and better eat everything I love before I can't eat it any longer. And that is the part that I listen to the most. And, that thinking really made me "stuffed." I am sure I was not the only one, but a month before my lap-band surgery is not a very effective time to suddenly get a guilt trip about overeating.
I cooked the Thanksgiving dinner for the five of us, four friends and me. I did my early shopping, but of course forgot several things and made two extra trips to the grocery store. In between, I cooked. I planned the recipe with my friends' needs in mind, two of which are diabetic. That was a real challenge for me as I love lots of brown sugar in several Turkey Day recipes. I got creative and found other ways to sweeten the yams and pies. We decided to do away with mashed potatoes and opted for roasted veggies, which were a nice change. But we still had a huge turkey, two different kinds of dressing, and several pies - all the trimmings! And even though they left with over half the leftovers, there was still a lot of food to deal with. And you know me....
I DIDN'T WASTE ONE LITTLE MORSEL!
Dang!
So now, my daunting task is to lose the extra pounds and then some so I can show the doctor that I weigh less than last month. I wouldn't want him to think I am not trying!
BUT... If I could've done it all on my own, I wouldn't need to be preparing for the lap-band solution!
Anyway, the Turkey Day was a success for the most part. Except the Cowboys lost. That one hurt!
And I am still 4F
I am fair (haven't been in the sun a lot lately)
I am fat (ok, maybe a little fatter than two weeks ago)
I am fifty (actually a lot past, but that is a good thing)
and
OMG, after all that food, I am still flatulent!
HA! It ain't so hard to live up to my expectations.
Guess I better set my standards a litlle higher...
The turkey that got stuffed was ME.
Part of me thinks that I can and better eat everything I love before I can't eat it any longer. And that is the part that I listen to the most. And, that thinking really made me "stuffed." I am sure I was not the only one, but a month before my lap-band surgery is not a very effective time to suddenly get a guilt trip about overeating.
I cooked the Thanksgiving dinner for the five of us, four friends and me. I did my early shopping, but of course forgot several things and made two extra trips to the grocery store. In between, I cooked. I planned the recipe with my friends' needs in mind, two of which are diabetic. That was a real challenge for me as I love lots of brown sugar in several Turkey Day recipes. I got creative and found other ways to sweeten the yams and pies. We decided to do away with mashed potatoes and opted for roasted veggies, which were a nice change. But we still had a huge turkey, two different kinds of dressing, and several pies - all the trimmings! And even though they left with over half the leftovers, there was still a lot of food to deal with. And you know me....
I DIDN'T WASTE ONE LITTLE MORSEL!
Dang!
So now, my daunting task is to lose the extra pounds and then some so I can show the doctor that I weigh less than last month. I wouldn't want him to think I am not trying!
BUT... If I could've done it all on my own, I wouldn't need to be preparing for the lap-band solution!
Anyway, the Turkey Day was a success for the most part. Except the Cowboys lost. That one hurt!
And I am still 4F
I am fair (haven't been in the sun a lot lately)
I am fat (ok, maybe a little fatter than two weeks ago)
I am fifty (actually a lot past, but that is a good thing)
and
OMG, after all that food, I am still flatulent!
HA! It ain't so hard to live up to my expectations.
Guess I better set my standards a litlle higher...
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
I See Food, People!
I know I am not the only one that has ever been on the see-food diet. But, the sad thing is I DO see food--everywhere! I can't blame it all on the thought that I am looking for it because I am afraid I won't get it anymore after my surgery. Common sense tells me that I will be able to eat most of what I want, just not in normal quantities. But then again, my idea of what a normal quantity is must be waaay off, or I wouldn't be in this pickle. (Did I just see food again??)
I went last week for my second meeting with the dietitian, and I knew that he knew I fudged a little. I told myself it wasn't a lot but at this stage any amount over the small portions I should be eating IS a lot. I did lose four pounds, but I know it won't last. I have found myself looking for the unhealthy foods in my pantry and stuffing myself with them so they won't be there after Thanksgiving. And, when I go to the grocery store I try to remember to shop responsibly, but the pastry/breads/deli are right by where I have to check out. I find myself walking by very slowly as to milk as much of the fragrances I can.
But if I keep giving in to the bread temptations, I know I will be forking over a lot more bread out of my pocket for medical expenses. And if you haven't figured it out yet, us 4F-ers, well, we have lots of doctor visits. I know and understand I must break this cycle and quit seeing food as my crutch. It is a means to an end. Healthy or Unhealthy. You are what you eat. But what happens if you really like food?
I am not artistic, but I see textures in the food I eat. I love one-dish meals that have crunchy and soft food combos, and with lots of different colors. I think of it as my "artwork." I created it; it is all mine! Not that I can mount it on the wall....
Nope, I just seem to mount it on my butt. How stupid is that??
I once had a boyfriend that insisted that my love of bananas was because my body craved potassium.
"I just like 'em," I'd shrug.
He would look at me. "Your body wants the potassium."
"Nooo, I really really like bananas!" I loved the way they squished in your mouth, how they presented themselves on your palate, and I loved them in lots of different dishes.
"It's your body...." We broke up soon afterwards. He just didn't get it.
I am cooking the turkey this year for our Thanksgiving celebration. My last meal, last splurge, last chance to savor the flavors and the smells and justify that it is the holiday that allows you to eat yourself into a stupor to the point you can't get off the couch. And once the Cowboys win their third game in a row under their new coach, it will be time to hit the dessert table again. I sure hope the new me won't miss it too much.
Did you notice how many times I mentioned food in this posting?
pickles...
bread...
fudge...
forked....
milk...
turkey...
stuffing...
desserts!
I see food, people!
I went last week for my second meeting with the dietitian, and I knew that he knew I fudged a little. I told myself it wasn't a lot but at this stage any amount over the small portions I should be eating IS a lot. I did lose four pounds, but I know it won't last. I have found myself looking for the unhealthy foods in my pantry and stuffing myself with them so they won't be there after Thanksgiving. And, when I go to the grocery store I try to remember to shop responsibly, but the pastry/breads/deli are right by where I have to check out. I find myself walking by very slowly as to milk as much of the fragrances I can.
But if I keep giving in to the bread temptations, I know I will be forking over a lot more bread out of my pocket for medical expenses. And if you haven't figured it out yet, us 4F-ers, well, we have lots of doctor visits. I know and understand I must break this cycle and quit seeing food as my crutch. It is a means to an end. Healthy or Unhealthy. You are what you eat. But what happens if you really like food?
I am not artistic, but I see textures in the food I eat. I love one-dish meals that have crunchy and soft food combos, and with lots of different colors. I think of it as my "artwork." I created it; it is all mine! Not that I can mount it on the wall....
Nope, I just seem to mount it on my butt. How stupid is that??
I once had a boyfriend that insisted that my love of bananas was because my body craved potassium.
"I just like 'em," I'd shrug.
He would look at me. "Your body wants the potassium."
"Nooo, I really really like bananas!" I loved the way they squished in your mouth, how they presented themselves on your palate, and I loved them in lots of different dishes.
"It's your body...." We broke up soon afterwards. He just didn't get it.
I am cooking the turkey this year for our Thanksgiving celebration. My last meal, last splurge, last chance to savor the flavors and the smells and justify that it is the holiday that allows you to eat yourself into a stupor to the point you can't get off the couch. And once the Cowboys win their third game in a row under their new coach, it will be time to hit the dessert table again. I sure hope the new me won't miss it too much.
Did you notice how many times I mentioned food in this posting?
pickles...
bread...
fudge...
forked....
milk...
turkey...
stuffing...
desserts!
I see food, people!
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
I've Been Working on My Dieting, All the Live Long Day!
Tell me if I'm wrong. Dieting is a horrible word. It should be stricken from the English Language and removed from all dictionaries. It has a meaning, I am sure, and maybe even a use for those that need to lose less than 10 pounds. But, for the rest of us? It is a useless misnomer for what we go through.
As much as I hated going to the psychologist, I think I really hated going to visit the dietitian. I knew what the skinny kid was going to say. Having gotten this far in the process, and hoping that maybe this time it would really work out, I was really afraid that he was going to tell me that if I would just eat this and not even look at that other, I would immediately begin to lose those dreaded pounds in droves. HA! I would tell him he doesn't understand, etcetera and so forth.
Truth is, I know I eat too much. I tell myself that it is hard because I live alone, and Mama always told me to clean my plate, and I can't afford to let the leftovers go to waste. But, deep down, I know these are things that are controllable by me. So, why can't I do that simple little thing?
I know all the tricks... smaller plates, put away the extra BEFORE you sit at the table. Don't watch TV (wait, isn't it on to keep me company with the "noise?") When you go out to eat, ask for the take home box up front and put half your food in it before you put your fork in your mouth. Portion Control IS Everything. So why is it so darn hard?
I think I use food as a crutch out of boredom, old habits, and maybe a little stress. I didn't realize this until I decided to start this journey. Doesn't make it any easier to get a handle one, but it does put it in perspective for me.
I was pleasantly surprised to find out that my choices were for the most part healthy ones. I was horrified to realize how small a portion was, and how much of a so-called portion I would be able to eat in the beginning. I am going to starve to death! Wait...do I have to starve my old body, mind, and soul to give birth to my new one?
When I went to North Carolina last month, I knew dieting would be hard, for a variety of reasons. I knew I would be surrounded by food and friends who would all be nibbling away. And, I knew airport eating would be more on the unhealthy side as you are running from terminal to terminal. But I am back now, and I need to be thinking about losing a few pounds and changing my habits. I must write down everything I eat, and I found myself on the trip omitting that I had Frito's and queso. And I ain't even gonna mention the cheese cake. I did drink lots of water, in between the Zero Coke. I have to go see him in a few days, and I hope he doesn't catch on to my little white lies. Like that will happen!
Here is my 4-F SWF confession for the day. You know those white chocolate macadamia nut cookies? The sinful ones that look like they are calling your name? My grocery chain makes the best ones, and package them in boxes of a half dozen. I made the mistake of looking at the nutritional facts after I had eaten two of them. Big Mistake. One beautiful cookie had a whopping 450 calories! In less than four minutes, I had consumed 900 calories! I felt so guilty that by the next day I decided to get rid of them so I wouldn't be tempted. But then all my ancestral voices shouted out something about "waste not, want not" - so I ate 'em all. I was so proud that I didn't waste and recycled the container.
Let's see... 6 cookies at 450 calories each equals 2700 decadent pleasurable indulgence. Hmmm!
Maybe that saying should be "waist wants food -NOT." Dang it, it is that diet syndrome again!
As much as I hated going to the psychologist, I think I really hated going to visit the dietitian. I knew what the skinny kid was going to say. Having gotten this far in the process, and hoping that maybe this time it would really work out, I was really afraid that he was going to tell me that if I would just eat this and not even look at that other, I would immediately begin to lose those dreaded pounds in droves. HA! I would tell him he doesn't understand, etcetera and so forth.
Truth is, I know I eat too much. I tell myself that it is hard because I live alone, and Mama always told me to clean my plate, and I can't afford to let the leftovers go to waste. But, deep down, I know these are things that are controllable by me. So, why can't I do that simple little thing?
I know all the tricks... smaller plates, put away the extra BEFORE you sit at the table. Don't watch TV (wait, isn't it on to keep me company with the "noise?") When you go out to eat, ask for the take home box up front and put half your food in it before you put your fork in your mouth. Portion Control IS Everything. So why is it so darn hard?
I think I use food as a crutch out of boredom, old habits, and maybe a little stress. I didn't realize this until I decided to start this journey. Doesn't make it any easier to get a handle one, but it does put it in perspective for me.
I was pleasantly surprised to find out that my choices were for the most part healthy ones. I was horrified to realize how small a portion was, and how much of a so-called portion I would be able to eat in the beginning. I am going to starve to death! Wait...do I have to starve my old body, mind, and soul to give birth to my new one?
When I went to North Carolina last month, I knew dieting would be hard, for a variety of reasons. I knew I would be surrounded by food and friends who would all be nibbling away. And, I knew airport eating would be more on the unhealthy side as you are running from terminal to terminal. But I am back now, and I need to be thinking about losing a few pounds and changing my habits. I must write down everything I eat, and I found myself on the trip omitting that I had Frito's and queso. And I ain't even gonna mention the cheese cake. I did drink lots of water, in between the Zero Coke. I have to go see him in a few days, and I hope he doesn't catch on to my little white lies. Like that will happen!
Here is my 4-F SWF confession for the day. You know those white chocolate macadamia nut cookies? The sinful ones that look like they are calling your name? My grocery chain makes the best ones, and package them in boxes of a half dozen. I made the mistake of looking at the nutritional facts after I had eaten two of them. Big Mistake. One beautiful cookie had a whopping 450 calories! In less than four minutes, I had consumed 900 calories! I felt so guilty that by the next day I decided to get rid of them so I wouldn't be tempted. But then all my ancestral voices shouted out something about "waste not, want not" - so I ate 'em all. I was so proud that I didn't waste and recycled the container.
Let's see... 6 cookies at 450 calories each equals 2700 decadent pleasurable indulgence. Hmmm!
Maybe that saying should be "waist wants food -NOT." Dang it, it is that diet syndrome again!
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Thank You for Supporting the Joey Jog
Many of you sent emails in support of the Joey Jog, and I wanted to personally thank you for your support. Even in a down economy, the Jog was a success. A lot of money was raised for research and awareness.
This year we were lucky to have had a representative from the national office in attendance. His presence not only made our event gain in stature, but also showed the many volunteers that the American Liver Foundation is very much aware of the hard work put into making this event gain national recognition. Thanks, Ryan, for your support.
Having missed the event last year due to my recent surgery, it was great catching up with all the folks that have been on board since the beginning. The day couldn't have been more beautiful, and it was good to see so many families walking together. Joey's story has made everyone aware of how lucky a family is to have an illness free existence. I think every mother, father, brother and sister realized how easy it is to lose that which you love the most, and even though you may move on from the physical hurt, the pain in your heart never goes away.
Joey's two brothers and sister are thriving. The triplets were happily showing off their Halloween costumes that seem to so fit their unique personalities. The spunky one wanted to be a pirate, the only girl is indeed worthy of being deemed a "princess", and the once shy brother who is now the thinking little man, well, his choice of becoming a UPS delivery guy, cap and package included, just seemed to fit him perfectly. They were too little to remember their first Halloween with their big sister Joey, but through the love shared by the family, they are very much aware of her existence, and mention her often, and always with love in their voices.
It was also good to have had my first book signing and sales (all the money went to the Joey Jog). It was fun for me to think of something to write for each individual who wanted an autographed copy. For just a few minutes, I didn't feel like a 4-F SWF, but as a person that was successful because she actually DID something of note.
Why is it so hard for me to think of myself as a success? I don't know, but I know this: I saw the looks people gave me on the airplane with the middle seat available... I knew what they were thinking. I am always aware of not taking up more than my space, and have even cramped up from making sure I don't inconvenience anybody else. Funny how that didn't seem to be in THEIR thought process.
When I got home, waiting for me was one other sign that maybe I was experiencing a little bit of success. Seven boxes of my book were waiting for me to sell and market. Whoopee! Sell! Sell! Sell! I am an author.
Then I remembered it was Halloween Eve...
Spooky!
This year we were lucky to have had a representative from the national office in attendance. His presence not only made our event gain in stature, but also showed the many volunteers that the American Liver Foundation is very much aware of the hard work put into making this event gain national recognition. Thanks, Ryan, for your support.
Having missed the event last year due to my recent surgery, it was great catching up with all the folks that have been on board since the beginning. The day couldn't have been more beautiful, and it was good to see so many families walking together. Joey's story has made everyone aware of how lucky a family is to have an illness free existence. I think every mother, father, brother and sister realized how easy it is to lose that which you love the most, and even though you may move on from the physical hurt, the pain in your heart never goes away.
Joey's two brothers and sister are thriving. The triplets were happily showing off their Halloween costumes that seem to so fit their unique personalities. The spunky one wanted to be a pirate, the only girl is indeed worthy of being deemed a "princess", and the once shy brother who is now the thinking little man, well, his choice of becoming a UPS delivery guy, cap and package included, just seemed to fit him perfectly. They were too little to remember their first Halloween with their big sister Joey, but through the love shared by the family, they are very much aware of her existence, and mention her often, and always with love in their voices.
It was also good to have had my first book signing and sales (all the money went to the Joey Jog). It was fun for me to think of something to write for each individual who wanted an autographed copy. For just a few minutes, I didn't feel like a 4-F SWF, but as a person that was successful because she actually DID something of note.
Why is it so hard for me to think of myself as a success? I don't know, but I know this: I saw the looks people gave me on the airplane with the middle seat available... I knew what they were thinking. I am always aware of not taking up more than my space, and have even cramped up from making sure I don't inconvenience anybody else. Funny how that didn't seem to be in THEIR thought process.
When I got home, waiting for me was one other sign that maybe I was experiencing a little bit of success. Seven boxes of my book were waiting for me to sell and market. Whoopee! Sell! Sell! Sell! I am an author.
Then I remembered it was Halloween Eve...
Spooky!
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Joey Jog and ALF
Please excuse this slight detour as I tell you about something that has become near and dear to me. For those who have visited my website, http://www.cynthiaeckhart.com/ , you know a little about the reason I wrote the book and how it has affected those that I love.
If you are old enough to remember the TV show A.L.F. you will recall that Alf was an alien - of the space kind! For those of us in Joey's extended family, we have learned it has a far different meaning. See, in our family it stands for the American Liver Foundation. Although it gets very little recognition via all the media genres out there, it plays a vital role in our society.
When Joey was barely two, she was struck with acute liver failure. Numerous tests could not determine the cause, and her only recourse became a liver transplant. Unfortunately, it never happened, and within two weeks of the showing of her first symptoms, Joey passed away. She had been number one on the liver transplant list nationwide, but the availability of viable livers is difficult under the best conditions and darn near impossible under emergency situations.
Friends of Joey and her parents organized a Joey Jog to honor her memory and help other liver patients. The Joey Jog and the American Liver Foundation not only aid in research to prevent and/or find a cure for liver failure, it also helps families that are waiting for their "turn" for a transplant. I may be a little prejudiced, but I think there needs to be more awareness of the need of organ donors in our mainstream society.
When I was undergoing treatment and surgery for my aneurysm, I thought a lot about death. How sudden it can be. You equate suddenness with maybe a car accident, but we forget about illnesses. I was almost 60, and I thought that I had least had opportunities to experience the world of the living. While I wasn't "ready" to die, I thought maybe it was my time. Joey didn't have that choice. Nor did she get to enjoy all the things other kids experience as they grow into adults. And, her parents, brothers, and sister didn't get to watch her grow and enjoy life. That, to me, is unfair, but it wasn't my choice. The only consolation that any of us have is the thought that God had a purpose for Joey's death, and that He would take care of her.
The more I think about it, I think that purpose was to spread awareness of the need of transplant research and organ donation. So, that is my purpose today. Visit the website http://www.joeyjog.org/. Read her story, and that of little Zack Mayo, another child in need of miracles. Contact your local American Liver Foundation office, and ask to volunteer. When you have to do that "voluntary" pledge for United Way, donate your money to a specific organization that helps those in need of transplants.
How does this all tie in to my lap-band surgery? Joey was the catalyst. Because of her a story was told about life and living, and the realization of what I needed to to to keep on living. Life is precious, and we should all take the steps needed to keep on living, and like Joey, to continue living after death.
Please become a volunteer and a donor. Most states allow you to list your desire to be a donor on your driver's license. If we all become donors, then think of the many lives that would be saved.
to learn more about Zack visit http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/wendymayo/mystory
Sunday, October 10, 2010
The Couch and I
When I told my friends that I must visit with a psychologist as part of my insurance requirements, I got the usual comments. You are in so much trouble, girl. Are you going to tell him EVERYTHING? Bring Kleenex. No big deal, he ain't gonna tell you anything you haven't already figured out on your own.
By the day of the appointment, I was seriously contemplating a double martini, but decided that adding "lush" to my poor lifestyles probably wasn't a good thing. So I resisted the temptation, and drove to the meeting. I sang to the radio, trying to keep my mind off of what was to become.
I knew about the time I lost control of my life. It was the Christmas Eve right after Dad's death, when my mom decided that, at age 43, I should give up what little life I had in the city to come live with her in the country. At the time, I was ready for a change, but golly gee, I don't think I thought it all the way through. Not that it wasn't a good time in many ways, but certainly not what I had thought my life would turn out. I am sure that during the seven years I was taking care of my terminally ill mom was when my depression start. The more she couldn't eat, the more I ate for her, and the more arguments we had about me losing weight. That darn cycle thing again! I didn't come to grips with her death until I put it all in my book, in black and white for all to see, that I understood it.
I could have just handed him the darn book. It would have explained "me" to him in detail. But noooo, I had to go sit on his stupid couch. While I was in the waiting room, I kept looking for the button or bell I was supposed to ring to announce my presence. There wasn't one. Well, that wasn't like in the movies...
He came to his office door and introduced himself. I then proceeded to sit on "The Couch". My hand instinctively went to my pocket to grasp the Kleenex.
But I didn't need it. Most of the questions were innocuous, just deep enough to get an idea of who I was. For an hour, he basically asked me all sorts of questions about my life up to this time; nothing about why I overate or anything to imply that I had gotten myself into this pickle. In fact, I was almost disappointed that I wasn't in tears, pouring my heart out for all the world to hear and pity.
What he DID tell me was that I would probably need his services after the surgery, as many people have difficulty with no longer being fat and the perceptions that family, friends, and strangers my have of you because you would be different. That will be interesting. Did being "thin" change who you were??
You mean I won't be a 4-F SWF anymore?? Bring it on!
Next stop: dietitian
By the day of the appointment, I was seriously contemplating a double martini, but decided that adding "lush" to my poor lifestyles probably wasn't a good thing. So I resisted the temptation, and drove to the meeting. I sang to the radio, trying to keep my mind off of what was to become.
I knew about the time I lost control of my life. It was the Christmas Eve right after Dad's death, when my mom decided that, at age 43, I should give up what little life I had in the city to come live with her in the country. At the time, I was ready for a change, but golly gee, I don't think I thought it all the way through. Not that it wasn't a good time in many ways, but certainly not what I had thought my life would turn out. I am sure that during the seven years I was taking care of my terminally ill mom was when my depression start. The more she couldn't eat, the more I ate for her, and the more arguments we had about me losing weight. That darn cycle thing again! I didn't come to grips with her death until I put it all in my book, in black and white for all to see, that I understood it.
I could have just handed him the darn book. It would have explained "me" to him in detail. But noooo, I had to go sit on his stupid couch. While I was in the waiting room, I kept looking for the button or bell I was supposed to ring to announce my presence. There wasn't one. Well, that wasn't like in the movies...
He came to his office door and introduced himself. I then proceeded to sit on "The Couch". My hand instinctively went to my pocket to grasp the Kleenex.
But I didn't need it. Most of the questions were innocuous, just deep enough to get an idea of who I was. For an hour, he basically asked me all sorts of questions about my life up to this time; nothing about why I overate or anything to imply that I had gotten myself into this pickle. In fact, I was almost disappointed that I wasn't in tears, pouring my heart out for all the world to hear and pity.
What he DID tell me was that I would probably need his services after the surgery, as many people have difficulty with no longer being fat and the perceptions that family, friends, and strangers my have of you because you would be different. That will be interesting. Did being "thin" change who you were??
You mean I won't be a 4-F SWF anymore?? Bring it on!
Next stop: dietitian
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Tuck or Squeeze? That is the Question!
My first meeting with the doctor that will do the procedure went well. He explained the various options I have. After discussing the pros and cons, I opted for the least invasive, the lap band. Having had so many surgeries the last 2 years, I didn't even wanna think about being under for a long period of time. I was glad to see that he had a weight loss amount that was the same as what I had in my mind.
I left with a ton of info from brochures to websites I needed to register on and visit/view their cd. I was very happy to hear that my insurance would cover it. Too bad I didn't remember that my year's deductible is from Sept to Aug... one of the perks of being a school teacher. So the thousand bucks I already had toward my share doesn't count. Oh well, the way I am dishing out money to get my book published, what is another thousand??
My insurance requires that I have a 90 day waiting period. During that time, I must document all the exercise I do/get, and horrors upon horrors, what I put in my mouth daily. I wonder if he would know I was lying if I put 2 pancakes instead of 3, or if he will believe me that it was an awfully little ribeye I noshed on last night?
OF COURSE HE WILL KNOW.... I AM A 4-F SWF. I no longer have any secrets or any pride left. I will grovel any way I can to justify being fat.
But, believe it or not, that is not my biggest worry. Having heart surgery, I am not afraid of the procedure. Nor am I afraid of the visit to the dietitian. I expected that, and have known for a long time that portion control was my biggest issue.
What I AM afraid of is the other person I have to meet with. I have to go see a freakin' psychologist. I know I am certifiable, but I have closely guarded this secret for many years. Now I am going to have to bare my soul to somebody on a couch with a box of kleenex nearby. I understand now why Charlie on Two and a Half Men was so reluctant to go.
I don't want to talk about my life's disappointments. I don't wanna talk about my former boyfriends and how dumb I was in my choices. I don't wanna verbalize my life!
I am a 4-F SWF. I know I have issues. Geez, can't he tell just by looking at me??
I think I am going to need a Xanax refill....
I left with a ton of info from brochures to websites I needed to register on and visit/view their cd. I was very happy to hear that my insurance would cover it. Too bad I didn't remember that my year's deductible is from Sept to Aug... one of the perks of being a school teacher. So the thousand bucks I already had toward my share doesn't count. Oh well, the way I am dishing out money to get my book published, what is another thousand??
My insurance requires that I have a 90 day waiting period. During that time, I must document all the exercise I do/get, and horrors upon horrors, what I put in my mouth daily. I wonder if he would know I was lying if I put 2 pancakes instead of 3, or if he will believe me that it was an awfully little ribeye I noshed on last night?
OF COURSE HE WILL KNOW.... I AM A 4-F SWF. I no longer have any secrets or any pride left. I will grovel any way I can to justify being fat.
But, believe it or not, that is not my biggest worry. Having heart surgery, I am not afraid of the procedure. Nor am I afraid of the visit to the dietitian. I expected that, and have known for a long time that portion control was my biggest issue.
What I AM afraid of is the other person I have to meet with. I have to go see a freakin' psychologist. I know I am certifiable, but I have closely guarded this secret for many years. Now I am going to have to bare my soul to somebody on a couch with a box of kleenex nearby. I understand now why Charlie on Two and a Half Men was so reluctant to go.
I don't want to talk about my life's disappointments. I don't wanna talk about my former boyfriends and how dumb I was in my choices. I don't wanna verbalize my life!
I am a 4-F SWF. I know I have issues. Geez, can't he tell just by looking at me??
I think I am going to need a Xanax refill....
Thursday, September 30, 2010
What? I'm Fat? Duh!
It took numerous trips to the doctor over a period of two years to finally find the real problem. I had found a personal physician that actually listened to what I said and didn't just act the superior and brush me off as a hypochondriac. He calls me his "problem child" even though I probably should be his "problem grandmother". Maybe that's a little harsh. "Problem mother" sounds better.
I knew he was concerned with my weight, but since I had bigger issues that was a subject that he did not bring up every single time I went to see him. He is an avid sportsman, so I joked and commented that I had paid for his latest bow. His response was to tell me it was a fly rod. I can't tell you how glad I was to have accommodated him....
Once I got over two major heart surgeries (one to fix the aneurysm, the other an inflammation as a result of the first surgery), he waited about six months before he broached the subject again. It started off as a you might wanna consider lap band if you can't do it yourself to you know, almost all of your problems go away if you would just lose the weight. I knew he was right but nothing I did helped me lose more than a few pounds, which I would gain back with the first dessert I ate.
When you are fat, it is a vicious circle. People think that you are a slob, pig, don't care, ugly, yadda yadda yadda. They pretend that we can't read their minds, but we know. So you diet, try every single one out there, buy books, join groups. But when you are 4-F, hey nuthin' works! Then, since you were active in your younger days, your knees give you so much trouble that you have to have a real good motivater to make you get out and exercise them. And, you realize that you may need to be on the Biggest Loser, but hey, I know I would personally ram my fist in Jillian's perfect little tummy the first time she got in my face. So then, you think, ok, when your book takes off, you can 1) go to a health spa for 6 weeks or 2) hire Oprah's personal trainer/chef. But wait, didn't I say in my last posting that I needed to lose weight before my book gets popular so I won't look like a fat cow on tv? Therein, folks, lies the vicious circle. Circle up, fat cells! I am a 4-F SWF. I have issues!
So because Doc, my conservative one, says you ought to look at lap band, you begin to think that since he saved your life twice in a month that perhaps he knows what he is talking about, and maybe I should listen. Besides, seeing morbidly obese as your diagnosis...well I could live with the obese, but the morbidly part? Gives you pause.
I talked to a couple of friends who had been through it. And I got brave and made the call.
When I got to the office, two skinny people were just leaving. OK, that's me in a year or so. While I was waiting two HUGE people walked in. I thought hey, I am not nearly that bad, so maybe I won't qualify. Their clothes could barely fit, they could barely breathe, and wore flip flops because their feet were swollen and fat.. I know I don't look like that. I accessorize my flip flops. I don't look like that.
Or do I?
Is that what people thought when they saw me?
They called me in...
I knew he was concerned with my weight, but since I had bigger issues that was a subject that he did not bring up every single time I went to see him. He is an avid sportsman, so I joked and commented that I had paid for his latest bow. His response was to tell me it was a fly rod. I can't tell you how glad I was to have accommodated him....
Once I got over two major heart surgeries (one to fix the aneurysm, the other an inflammation as a result of the first surgery), he waited about six months before he broached the subject again. It started off as a you might wanna consider lap band if you can't do it yourself to you know, almost all of your problems go away if you would just lose the weight. I knew he was right but nothing I did helped me lose more than a few pounds, which I would gain back with the first dessert I ate.
When you are fat, it is a vicious circle. People think that you are a slob, pig, don't care, ugly, yadda yadda yadda. They pretend that we can't read their minds, but we know. So you diet, try every single one out there, buy books, join groups. But when you are 4-F, hey nuthin' works! Then, since you were active in your younger days, your knees give you so much trouble that you have to have a real good motivater to make you get out and exercise them. And, you realize that you may need to be on the Biggest Loser, but hey, I know I would personally ram my fist in Jillian's perfect little tummy the first time she got in my face. So then, you think, ok, when your book takes off, you can 1) go to a health spa for 6 weeks or 2) hire Oprah's personal trainer/chef. But wait, didn't I say in my last posting that I needed to lose weight before my book gets popular so I won't look like a fat cow on tv? Therein, folks, lies the vicious circle. Circle up, fat cells! I am a 4-F SWF. I have issues!
So because Doc, my conservative one, says you ought to look at lap band, you begin to think that since he saved your life twice in a month that perhaps he knows what he is talking about, and maybe I should listen. Besides, seeing morbidly obese as your diagnosis...well I could live with the obese, but the morbidly part? Gives you pause.
I talked to a couple of friends who had been through it. And I got brave and made the call.
When I got to the office, two skinny people were just leaving. OK, that's me in a year or so. While I was waiting two HUGE people walked in. I thought hey, I am not nearly that bad, so maybe I won't qualify. Their clothes could barely fit, they could barely breathe, and wore flip flops because their feet were swollen and fat.. I know I don't look like that. I accessorize my flip flops. I don't look like that.
Or do I?
Is that what people thought when they saw me?
They called me in...
Monday, September 27, 2010
When Your Life Turns Upside Down, New Thoughts Turn UP
I have been single all of my life. Not from lack of trying, but lots of bad luck. Some of it was not my fault, but much of it was of my own making, and now as I am older, my own choice. It was a normal life, with good times and bad ones, until I moved from a paid for house at the lake to take up island living with my first ever mortgage. I should tell you that I didn't do that until I was 55 years old.
I built a house during the late summer and early fall of 2005. If you live along the Gulf Coast, you remember that as THE year in which many peoples' lives were upended. I was lucky; no hurricanes hit my beach. But having so many strike so close to home had me thinking that I was in the early stages of dementia or just plain stupid for wanting to live on the Gulf Coast...on an island!
Life continued in its hectic way for the next few years. But in 2009, I experienced a life changing event. I have had lots of nuisance illnesses over the years, but this one was the biggie. Remember the late actor John Ritter? Yep, I got what he had. And, apparently I had for quite a long time without knowing about it. An aneurysm between your heart and lungs, in your aorta, gives you an awful lot to think about. I survived it with more than a little help from my friends, but I realized my heart, no pun intended, just wasn't into working anymore. So, I retired a year earlier than anticipated, and tried to figure out what to do next.
I ended up writing a book, called I'll Be There... You can find it on my website http://www.cynthiaeckhart.com/. Then dreaming about all the money I was going to make, I realized that I was not ready to be seen in public! I must lose weight, and fast. Since I had been trying on my own for many years with no success, I have decided to get lap-band surgery. And that is what has prompted this blog.
So, as my journey begins, I am going to share it with all. Successes, Failures, Doubts, Joys. And as I change my physical side perhaps my emotional side will also change.
A few years ago, I thought I was having a heart attack. Turns out it was my gall bladder. The nurse looked at me and said, "Oh yeah, it's gall bladder. You're 4-F." I wanted to cry when she explained it to me:
Fair (okay, I am blond by bottle)
Fat (she could have been a little more diplomatic)
Fifty (not only fat but getting old??)
and
wait for it....
Flatulent (OMG I GOT GAS!!)
No wonder I am still a SWF...
I built a house during the late summer and early fall of 2005. If you live along the Gulf Coast, you remember that as THE year in which many peoples' lives were upended. I was lucky; no hurricanes hit my beach. But having so many strike so close to home had me thinking that I was in the early stages of dementia or just plain stupid for wanting to live on the Gulf Coast...on an island!
Life continued in its hectic way for the next few years. But in 2009, I experienced a life changing event. I have had lots of nuisance illnesses over the years, but this one was the biggie. Remember the late actor John Ritter? Yep, I got what he had. And, apparently I had for quite a long time without knowing about it. An aneurysm between your heart and lungs, in your aorta, gives you an awful lot to think about. I survived it with more than a little help from my friends, but I realized my heart, no pun intended, just wasn't into working anymore. So, I retired a year earlier than anticipated, and tried to figure out what to do next.
I ended up writing a book, called I'll Be There... You can find it on my website http://www.cynthiaeckhart.com/. Then dreaming about all the money I was going to make, I realized that I was not ready to be seen in public! I must lose weight, and fast. Since I had been trying on my own for many years with no success, I have decided to get lap-band surgery. And that is what has prompted this blog.
So, as my journey begins, I am going to share it with all. Successes, Failures, Doubts, Joys. And as I change my physical side perhaps my emotional side will also change.
A few years ago, I thought I was having a heart attack. Turns out it was my gall bladder. The nurse looked at me and said, "Oh yeah, it's gall bladder. You're 4-F." I wanted to cry when she explained it to me:
Fair (okay, I am blond by bottle)
Fat (she could have been a little more diplomatic)
Fifty (not only fat but getting old??)
and
wait for it....
Flatulent (OMG I GOT GAS!!)
No wonder I am still a SWF...
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