It’s time to check in with Laurie to see how she’s doing since she had weight loss surgery back in December. Laurie wrote this entry in early January. Next week, we’ll see how she’s doing at the present. To catch up on Laurie’s moving and deeply personal story, click the Personal Journeys link on the left-hand side of the page, under Categories.
Part 9: Some Observations
So, as I move into my fifth week post-surgery, I wanted to take a moment to share some observations with you. At this point I’ve lost 60 pounds (including weight I lost pre-surgery) and I’ve already had to go shopping to buy pants that fit. So I’m feeling pretty good about myself.
Everything is different now. I don’t just mean that I’m 60 pounds lighter, or that I’ve gone down almost two sizes – both awesome things, but that’s, like, “normal” diet stuff. Every time I would diet before – even if I managed to get down 60 pounds and start having to shop for new things – there was always that tiny little fat girl in the back of my head who just wanted to pig out. She was always looking for any excuse to “cheat”… whether it be an extended illness (ugh…I’m miserable! Why should I worry about a diet??) or a vacation, or a holiday, or whatever it was, that little fat kid inside of me was constantly pushing at the back of my brain, waiting for any opportunity to jump out and grab the nearest handful of Cheez-Its or a second (or third, or fourth) piece of pizza. I would fight her off as long as I could, and most of the time I’d get the better of her.
But then there’d be That Thing. I don’t know what it would be. It could be anything. Pick any of those things I listed above, or make something up yourself. Flat tire? Bad day at work? Too tired to cook dinner? You name it – any one of those things could do it. The gates would open, and the little fat girl would spring out and have at it, like the Tasmanian Devil released from a cage to wreak havoc.
Now, it’s one thing to stick her in that cage when she’s calm and docile. When I would start the diet, she’d be too lazy and sluggish to make any moves on me, so she’d go willingly. But after being locked up for months and months, once she was released there’d be no stopping her. And before I knew it, half the contents of our fridge would be gone, and there’d be a stack of empty pizza boxes filed neatly beside the trash barrel. I’d be right back where I started (and then some), and a part of me would be very disappointed… but another part of me (that tiny little fat girl) would be extremely satisfied… and once the fat girl was happy, it was hard to take the joy away from her.
But now… jeez, I’m starting to think that I didn’t have gastric sleeve surgery. I think I had Tiny Fat Girl removal surgery, cause that little monster is gone. GONE. How is it different now? Well, I had surgery on December 10th. It’s now January 8th, and I haven’t been hungry yet. Not once. Not even a little bit. My meals first consisted of nothing but broth, and only about a ½ a cup to a cup each time. Then I progressed to adding a protein supplement – GNC sells a protein “pudding” (I use that term loosely) and protein shakes, and I would have about three ounces of pudding maybe once a day, and about a ½ cup of protein shake per day. And I was stuffed. In about a week I moved on to soft proteins – Greek yogurt, ground turkey, tuna, cheese, eggs. Still averaging about 3-4 ounces of food per meal, and sometimes that would be pushing it. And through this whole process, I haven’t heard one peep from that tiny little fat girl in my head. Not a word.
I think the difference now – other than the fact that 2/3 of my stomach has been removed, along with most of the hormones that trigger hunger – is that, for the first time, I feel like I’m in control of this. Before, I always felt like someone else was forcing me to diet. Like it was some kind of burden that had been placed upon me, and I just needed to grumble and complain my way through it until I could find an excuse to eat again and be “happy”. As much as I enjoyed cooking healthy foods for myself and my family, I couldn’t help thinking that someday I’d be able to eat unhealthy again – if I just got down to a good weight, I could eat whatever I wanted again, and I’d be happy! Now? Well, there’s no “light at the end of the tunnel”, so to speak. There’s absolutely no possibility that I will ever be able to eat the way I did before… and I find that to be extraordinarily liberating.
If you’ll pardon the pun, there’s a weight that’s been lifted off my shoulders – the weight of temptation is gone, and… well, I feel, for the very first time, that I can actually do this. I can DO this. Removing that element of chance – exorcising that tiny little fat girl – has given me a chance to truly accept and embrace this process. It’s not just a diet, it’s a change to my entire life… and no one is making me do this but myself. This is me. This is MY thing. I made it through a month of an all-liquid diet because I wanted to. I went through surgery and recovery and careful steps to re-introduce my new stomach to food because I made the decision to change my life, and no one forced me into this but me. It’s up to me now to succeed – I have the power right now to do anything I want with my life, and all my future successes and set-backs are mine and mine alone. All of this may have been true before, but this is the first time that I’ve actually believed it, and felt it. And that is the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt, possibly in my entire life.
I’m 39 right now. I turn 40 in October. I guess it’s fair to say that this year is going to be pretty incredible, in every way.
