Sunday, September 16, 2012

Surgery, Weight Loss, and Insecurities

I've been in denial about a lot of things for a really long time. The biggest denial of my life is my weight. I like to think of myself as a health obese. There' s no such thing but since all my blood work is good, my levels fine and I only deal with occasional colds, flus, and poly cystic ovarian syndrome I consider myself healthy, and even have a doctor who has told me so. The problem is the words healthy and obese do not go together and I knew someday it would catch up to me.

I weigh 227 pounds, that's my fasting weight, or at least it was on September 13, 2012 when I went into the hospital for surgery. No it was not weight loss surgery, though I wish it had been then I wouldn't have a good reason to be paranoid. It was for gall stones which led to the need to have my gall bladder removed. At the ripe young age of 31, I had to have an organ removed because of my crappy, high fat diet. Since high school I have bounced around this weight, only really going higher after having my son. Then I got terrified of the number on the scale, and vanity broke through my new mom haze and I weight watchered my way back down. Then I plateau here and I stick. Why? Because I'm lazy. There has to be a way to break this spell this weight has on me and now I think I found it.

Since having my surgery scheduled I have been regaled by friends and family with their own stories about this wonderful little organ being removed. They all seem to end with "Now I can't eat ______ because I have to find a bathroom really fast." These foods range from eggs, to spaghetti sauce, fruits, dairy, and even someone can't stomach bagels. I have never had a problem with food in my life! I would not be the curvy, sexy mama I am if I did. So come surgery day I knew there had to be a change.

I was given a piece of paper when I was diagnosed, it gave me a list of foods to eat, and foods to avoid which were supposed to keep my from having any more attacks from my gall bladder. I then spent the next few weeks eating everything on the DO NOT EAT side of the list. Fatty, greasy, huge meals. Anything I could get my hands on because I knew in a few short weeks it was all going to be over. Now that time has come. Thankfully I spent so much time eating everything I was not supposed to (miraculously without gaining 50 pounds) that I made myself so tired of those foods that I no longer crave them. For now.

So now just a few days post surgery I am faced with my new diet. Low fat, somewhat bland, and oh so easy to stay within the calorie count given to me by my weight tracker. I am at this point finding it easier to stay below that number then I ever thought possible. All this because I am scared. Finally I am scared of dying, scared of the weight, scared of the future. I don't like feeling this way, I don't like being scared of the what ifs. I don't deal with what ifs, I deal with the reality of what is.

At this point, I have to deal with a surgery which could lead to bowel troubles if I am not careful, So I am reading my list, checking it twice, or three times to ensure I am not straying and this time I am going to shine a light on my own insecurities and since shadows can not live where there is light I will prevail.