Tag Archives: lap band

Wardrobe Weary On a Road Well Traveled

My closet is a ghost town: a myriad of tops and faded jeans all neatly lined up and abandoned.  There are very few clothes in my closet that I can actually wear right now, thanks to my stubborn insistence that I not buy another piece of clothing until I drop a size.  I live in a world of elastic waistbands and frumpy, wide-width shoes. Fashion is not my friend.  Fashion is a word I can’t even relate to anymore.

I didn’t realize it until this week, but I have been avoiding my closet.  I’ve made a lot of big changes in my life in a relatively short amount of time:  I gave up sugar, diet soda, stopped thinking of healthy eating as a drag, and put an indefinite HOLD status on my plans to have lap band surgery.  It’s only been 6 weeks. These changes are still in their infancy – and, with over 20 years of yo-yo dieting under my belt, I guess it’s only natural for me to shy away from anything that might derail the motivation train.  My resolve is precious to me.  Who hasn’t given up on a “diet” within the first days and weeks of starting it?  I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve thrown my hands up and reached for the chips.  My resolve is something that must be protected and gently nurtured.  This is why I’ve been avoiding my closet and all those clothes I can’t wear.

My closet makes me feel like a failure – and yet I choose to stubbornly cling to a hundred hangers worth of memories.  I decided to stop avoiding it this week.  Time to grab the bull by the horns.  Just two steps in and I was surrounded by a half dozen different sizes.  All of them were judging me.

As I organized and sorted, my hands flipped past t-shirts and non-tunics galore.  I remembered the times I wore these clothes – times when the number on the scale was not nearly as shameful as it is now.  I weighed a lot less then, but I was never able to let myself be happy with where I was.  I may have been a lot smaller, but I remember I always felt just as huge as the day I hit my highest weight.

Then I saw it: the first leather jacket I ever bought myself.  It’s a size 22 – which is still plus sized, but 10 sizes smaller than where I am today.  I can’t part with it.  Every time I see it, I’m reminded of the first time I saw it in the store.  I had lost 75 pounds, but I was on the small end of a size 24 and wasn’t sure it would fit me.  I’ll never forget the triumphant feel of slipping that jacket on.  Perfect fit.

I stood in my closet, smiling at the memory of it, but the smile faded within just a few seconds.  I know all too well what happened next and my moment of joy was replaced with shame & disappointment.  Just a few months later, I started another downward spiral and I gave up on myself.  Again.

Having never been able to give myself credit for the accomplishment of losing 75 pounds, I was still berating myself for being 295 pounds (my top weight at the time) – even though I hadn’t weighed that much in months.  I call that kind of negative, automatic thinking my “auto-pilot”.  I didn’t even know I was doing it until my attitude hit the skids.  I tried to pick myself up with a pep talk.  “Hey!  I do NOT weigh 295 pounds!  I’m kicking ass!!”  I tried to believe in myself, but I never felt it in my heart.  It made me vulnerable in ways I couldn’t see.

While at my most vulnerable, I was unprepared for the jerk parade that ensued when I started dating again.  It only took a couple douche bags to break me down.  It wasn’t long before I started finding excuse after excuse not to work out.  Fast food was suddenly more convenient.  Ice cream was back in the freezer.  That bitch Little Debbie was back in my life.  It was easier to curl up on the couch with a plate full of pizza rolls and let the world outside go by than it was for me to look at what went wrong and try again.  By the time I stepped on the scale again, I was 299 pounds.  All the way back up to my top weight with 4 pounds extra.  Nice job.

The leather jacket in my closet is a symbol of the good times on the road to weight loss and the pitfalls that await me if I make the same mistakes.  In some ways, it might be better if I just gave it to charity.  I can’t.  Not until I can wear it again.  When I slip that jacket on my shoulders again and I feel in my heart that I am a Hot Mess Bad Ass, then I can let it go.  That’s the way it is with all the clothes in my ghost town closet.  There is peace to be made.  Retribution.

It’s going to be difficult for a while.  Auto-pilot is hard to fight when I have no physical reminder that I’ve lost weight.  An obese person can’t see or feel a loss of 5, 10, or even 20 pounds.  It doesn’t make much of a dent.  Pants don’t feel looser when they have elastic waists.  It makes it a lot harder to stay positive when you’re able to wear the same pair of pants through pounds and pounds of weight loss.  I don’t expect to be able to wear the next size down for at least another 10 or 15 pounds. The scale and the tape measure are my only real tools for measuring my success – at least for a while.

Just a few days ago, I caught myself on auto-pilot again.  I sat down in my chair at work and thought to myself “I can’t believe I weigh 381 pounds…”

Here I go again, right?  I don’t weigh 381 pounds.  I weigh 361 pounds.

That’s right, peeps:  I’ve lost more marbles since my last post!  I’ve lost 20 pounds since December 15th, 2011.  Why do I have such a problem acknowledging my own success?

That’s why I left myself this note on my monitor at work the other day:



Of course, now I’m going to have to put a new note up there:  361.  What a horrible inconvenience to have to keep rewriting these notes, right?  🙂

I was so excited to see 361 blinking back at me from the scale this morning.  I had to weigh myself three times before I would believe it, finally stepping back and muttering “shut UP!”  My groggy hubby, still in bed, rolled over and said “Pretty sure you’re not supposed to tell the scale to shut up, babe…”   Goober.

I’m two pounds away from the 350’s – which means I have two pounds more to lose before one of those little pink jewels go PLINK in the “Pounds Lost” jar.  It looks like I’m going to hit my next mini goal:  359 by Valentine’s day.

What’s my goal after that?  354.  Why?  Because I will no longer be able to say I have to lose over 200 pounds.  🙂  At 354 pounds, I will have 199 pounds more to lose.

Seems insurmountable, doesn’t it?  199 more pounds.  My God.  I’m here to tell ya:  I’m gonna do it.  I will kick every single pound squarely in the ass and send it packing.  Ten pounds at a time, they’re dust.  For me, success is no longer just hitting my goal weight.  Success is changing my life and earning my way.

So here I am:  a 361 pound success.  Proud and grateful.




My employer has a pretty cool program called “HealthMatters”.  Basically, employees earn a reduction on next year’s insurance deductible by doing certain healthy activities like taking preventive tests and quitting naughty behaviors like smoking, eating too much, and dating jerks.  Okay, I’m not sure about the jerk thing…but the rest is true.

Every two to three months, I get a call from my HealthMatters nurse, Monica.  Over the past year, she has endured assorted tales from me but there was nothing that could prepare poor Monica for the motivation train that has been plowing through the Hot Mess household lately.  We last spoke at the end of November – long before I fell back ON the wagon.  🙂

So Monica calls and asks me how I’ve been doing with my goal of quitting diet soda.  I proudly say “DONE!  Haven’t had one since Christmas day!!”

Monica congratulates me and then says “Okay, so the last time we talked you were considering lap band surgery and were going to be about ready to schedule a surgery date…how is that going?”

Poor Monica didn’t get a chance to say anything except the occasional “Oh my gosh!” for the next 15 minutes.  I told her about giving up sugar, about my imaginary lap band experiment, about the Motivation Marbles, and about getting back on the treadmill.  After every “Oh my gosh!” she offered, I countered with “I know, right!”  It was a good conversation.

I told her that I decided against having any kind of surgery – at least for the next 30 days – while I make sure my mojo is fully back.  She was quite proud of me.  I’m quite proud of me.

Two things that always trip me up, though, are getting too cocky too fast…and not working out on a consistent basis.  In all my previous attempts to get healthy, I’ve known this about myself and yet I’ve never done anything proactive to make sure it doesn’t trip me up again.  This is the first time I’ve ever actually thought “Oh yeah…I need to be sure I work out consistently and keep my focus” while I’m still motivated and doing well.  I may be the slowest learner on the planet.

I know that I will get bored and discouraged if I don’t keep this interesting, so I spent a little money on myself today.  I’ve had one of these before but I lost it somewhere in this house.  (Most likely Sarah the cat decided she didn’t like all that noise coming from the treadmill, so she batted it under a huge piece of furniture somewhere.)  At any rate, I’ve bought myself a second S2H Step pedometer.  Ever heard of these?

Basically, the pedometer counts your steps like any other pedometer does…but this one gives you a code after you take 10,000 steps.  You register online for a free account and log each code you get.  Each code is worth 60 points.  Rack up enough points and you can spend them on whatever prizes you want.  Prizes vary and availability varies, so you have to keep an eye on the website.  Last year, they offered a Nintendo Wii system for a while.

There are lots of prizes to chose from including discounts on spa weekend getaways, gift cards to stores like Walmart and Target, and music downloads.  If you’re a parent and you’re trying to get your kids to be more active, there are stickers and other kid things available as prizes.  If the pedometer won’t work for your kids, there’s also a wristband.  So…this was my first little splurge today:


Of course, I got mine in pink.  🙂

As much as I love walking, I’m afraid I’ll get bored if that’s all I do.  I would love to get an elliptical trainer, but like most families in this economy, we just can’t afford a purchase like that right now – and I hate gyms.  I like to exercise in privacy and solitude.  I also like to dance.  So…this weekend, I plan to shake it like a polaroid picture.  Check it out:

Dance on Broadway

I do have “The Michael Jackson Experience” for PS3, having four asses makes dancing like the King of Pop more frustrating than fun.  So little Michael will have to keep his moonwalk’in ass in the bottom of the perfectly matched decorator basket that holds our collection of PS3 games.  I’ll have to lose some pounds before I can convincingly grab my crotch and shriek “WooHOOOO!” in my living room.  Too much of a challenge for me right now!

Speaking of challenges, I passed the temptation test today.  I’ll give you the short version:  Office Party.  Cake.  Me. Bad Ass.  🙂  Didn’t eat any.  Wasn’t worth it.  WooHOOO!  (No, I’m not grabbing my crotch like Michael…promise.)

Another challenge tomorrow:  lunch with a couple of my girlfriends at my absolutely favorite restaurant.  Let’s just say that if you ask a server for nutritional information at this place, they smile and giggle.  LOL.  Here’s the deal, though:  my favorite entree is actually not bad at all because of the way I order it.  It’s basically a piece of heavenly seasoned, grilled chicken on a french roll.  Okay, sure…it’s served with fries.  But I don’t get an emotional high from french fries.  I do get a hell of a reaction from their cheesecake.  It’s almost like I need a cigarette when I’m done, ok?  (Except I don’t smoke…but you know what I mean.)

So tomorrow I’m going to my favorite restaurant with my friends.  I’m ordering my favorite chicken sammie and I’m eating the fries.  I am not drinking diet soda.  I am NOT ordering cheesecake.  I’ve already informed my girlfriends that I am perfectly fine if they order dessert – in fact, I would appreciate the opportunity to flex my mojo a little.  Bring it.

Abstaining from cheesecake but eating french fries may not make sense to some of you, but I’m reigning in my emotional reaction to food.  That’s what this is.  I can control the french fry monster.  I can’t control the cheesecake monster.  And I’ve just celebrated 30 days of being free of diet soda, which I’ve tried to do for years, so I definitely don’t want to break that record.

Thankfully, although Mother Nature is still visiting, the 7 dwarfs of the apocalypse are gone:  Bloaty, Crampy, Bitchy, Painful, Queasy, Achy, and Pissy.  I feel normal again.  I’m highly motivated to get moving again.  And I’m looking forward to losing a few marbles on Wednesday when I get on the scale.

Bring it.


Bloaty, Crampy, Queasy, and Painful

No, I’m not naming dwarfs in some awkwardly inappropriate remake of Snow White.  🙂

That little ray of sunshine, Mother Nature, has come for a visit…along with her friends:  Bloaty, Crampy,  Queasy, and Painful.  I’m going on 24 hours of gross.  I feel  hideous.

This little visit is particularly awful, so of course last night I was questioning my wisdom in committing to 6 days of exercise in a row without consulting the damn period tracking app on my phone.  I was curled up on the couch and couldn’t imagine even 3 minutes on the treadmill, seriously.

I don’t understand why on Earth we women have to suffer like this.  For me, periods are debilitating and disgusting.  I hate my period.  I want to give Mother Nature a high five.  In the face.  With a chair.

This sums it up nicely:


So I’ve got cramps keeping me curled up on the couch, but I hate feeling guilty.  I hate letting myself down (not to mention those of you who have been so awesome with support & calling me an inspiration, right?)  What kind of an inspiration sits on her four asses all night?  Not this girl!  So I stewed over it for a while and came up with a satisfactory solution:  resistance training.

Okay, actually, I did sit on my asses but I worked the hell out of my arms.  I was on the couch with my laptop beside me, pumping iron like I was training for a Mega Insanity Blogger Convention!  So that was my exercise last night.

Tonight I plan to get cranked up on about six ibuprofen and letting her rip on the treadmill.  Probably not for 30 minutes, honestly, because I’ve been home sick all day  and I have yet to stand up straight.  Ick.  I can’t look myself in the mirror if I do two nights in a row of resistance training on my arms, though, so something in my lower body region is going to have to move tonight.  I’ll update the Facebook fan page either way.

I spoke with my  possible surgeon’s office today.  Last August, I was so exasperated with myself that I consulted a bariatric surgeon.  Since then, I’ve had monthly phone appointments with his nutritionist, per my insurance company’s requirement.  Even though I’ve been doing great since my epiphany last month, I wanted to keep my options fully open – so I’ve continued with the nutritionist and had my last consultation today.

Although I was a little wary that he would try to steer me towards surgery no matter what I said, he didn’t.  We had a great conversation and the nutritionist was nothing but supportive.  I felt really great about the whole thing and I told him it was fine to have someone follow up with me in 30 days, but for now my orders were to STAND DOWN because Dianne’s got her mojo back, baby!  🙂

After today’s consultation, I could have named my surgery date right now.  I could have set that up today.  I didn’t.  The official decision is:  no lap band surgery for me right now…I want to take my mojo out for a spin and see how I do.  I feel like I can do this without the additional tool of surgery.  If I can do this myself, that’s what I want.

The entire conversation with the nutritionist was very motivating to me because I have a very clear picture in my mind of the phone ringing in 30 days and me saying “I’ve lost more weight and I’m working out a lot now…I think I’m ok without surgery – but you can follow up with me in 30 days!”

Oh dear, what if it becomes extremely motivating for me to keep stringing along the surgeon’s office?  LOL.  Is that mean?  I feel a little evil about it.  🙂  I actually believe, though, that once I get to a certain point I won’t need the “threat” of surgery to keep me motivated.  I know from experience that if I lose enough weight you could hold a platter of Ding Dongs under my nose while I’m having my “ladies days” and all I’ll do is laugh the diabolical laugh of a woman in complete control of her cravings.  Muahahahahaha!

In the next day or two, I’ll have a fun announcement to share with y’all.  🙂  I’m not giving away any secrets…but I think we’re all going to have a lot of fun and get a lot of motivation from it.  I will most likely announce it one Facebook and Twitter because I can make the big blog announcement, but I’ll get the word out!  Please stay tuned for that!!

For now, I’m going to slowly move in the direction of the treadmill.  I’ll pop some ibuprofen and see what I can do.  No promises, though – I may only be able to do 10 minutes.  But, as Kerri posted on my Facebook Fan Page today:


That’s what I plan to do.  A couple laps, then maybe I’ll make a Mother Nature voodoo doll out of maxi pads and tampons.  Bitch better watch out.

How’s everyone doing on their marble projects????  What’s going on in your worlds?  Please post and let me know…we’re all supporting each other!


The Power of We

38 days ago, in the middle of the Christmas holiday season, I ate 24 coconut petit fours in 24 hours.  When I was halfway through the butter toffee, I stopped.  I walked to the trash can in tears and tossed it, promising myself I was done with sugar.

28 days ago, I had weaned myself down to one diet soda per day after countless years of drinking it like water.  I cut out that last can of diet soda and promised myself to stop drinking chemicals.

25 days ago, I decided to give myself an imaginary lap band.  I had been considering lap band surgery and, after reading several patient experiences on an online forum, decided to give the pre-op diet  a go…just to see what it was like.  I had a food epiphany that helped me stop thinking of eating healthy as a chore.

And a little over 24 hours ago, I created my version of Motivation Marbles, pinned it on Pinterest…and your outpouring of support has absolutely overwhelmed me…and humbled me.  I am so absolutely grateful for each and every one of your comments, your “likes”, your shares, and your pins.  From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

I had a pretty full day today.  In addition to my regular job, I had an interview for a promotion and needed to refit my resume for another job I was applying for within my company.  In between all these tasks, my phone would alert me that you were listening.

Bleep!   A new comment on the blog.

Beep beep!  A new pin on Pinterest.

Hoo Hoo!  A new “like” on Facebook.

I went down to the cafeteria to get a bag of Stacy’s Pita Chips to eat with my sandwich.  My eyes grazed over the lemon bars that I used to get every single day.  I try not to look at them for long.  (I think calories can smell fear.)  But just as my eyes were grazing over the lemon bars, Bleep!  New comment on the blog.  Oh look!  It’s from someone who has to lose 94 lbs.  I instantly identify with her.

Walking back to my desk. Hoo Hoo!  New Facebook likes on my Fan Page.  More smiles.  It was as if you were all following me today, reading my blog and enjoying yourselves as much as I was enjoying your comments.

By the way, remember yesterday morning when I promised that I would try the cucumber juice concoction I’d been thinking about?  Turned out to be 2 cucs, 2 oranges, a bunch of mint & basil  Here it is:

It was…mildly tasty.  I think I’m happier with the fact that it didn’t completely turn me off.  I want to try again!  Anyway, back to today’s events…

I came home expecting so see that the visits on my blog have settled down, but they haven’t.  They’re continuing to skyrocket.  I plopped down in front of my laptop and read more comments.  I will always try to respond to you – even if you’re only saying hi.  My husband came home and I was still replying to you.  He asked what I was doing and I said “Replying to my readers”.  My readers.  🙂

I sat here at this laptop for quite a while, knowing that I have promised myself that I will do 6 days of exercise in a row.  This is a weakness of mine and so this is the challenge I’ve extended myself.  I would much rather have sat on the couch – or that’s what I thought.  There was a big Saint Bernard head in my lap and I was being required to administer belly rubs.  I kept telling myself “Later.  I’ll do it later…before bed.”

More and more comments came in and, as I read them, I realized…I want to get on the treadmill.  I promised myself in front of my readers that I would exercise for 6 days in a row.  I thought of all the cheers you’ve given me and all the stories you’ve shared with all of us.  Suddenly the excuses fell away and I didn’t want to let you down.  I wanted to walk my own talk.  So I got on the treadmill tonight at a time when I am usually getting ready for bed.

The last several times I’ve been on the treadmill, I’ve lasted for 10 to 20 minutes.  Each time, I’ve tried not to watch the clock as it ticks off my time.  Why does that clock seem to move so slow?

This time, I remembered to grab my iPod and headphones.  I got on the treadmill.  Train was singing “Hey, Soul Sister” in my head…and I smiled.  I walked.  With pep, energy, and purpose – not the clunky, oh-crap-I-am-so-stopping-at-KFC-after-this lurch I used to do.  The music lifted me.  The idea that there are all these strangers out there who come to this blog and see what I’m up do…it gave me a little extra dose of sassy on that treadmill.

I started walking and I had my mental clock set for 20 minutes.  Let’s not get crazy here, I’m just starting back to exercise.  I trudged on while Caesar the cat lounged on the bed behind me, looking at me as if to say “Watching you clunk around on that thing only makes me more sleepy.”

As I walked, I thought about the comments that you’ve left here for me.  I couldn’t stop smiling.  And I never smile when I exercise.  I knew I was getting close to 20 minutes and looked down.  23 minutes.  But I wasn’t tired.  I was pumped up by your support…and also by the strong desire to show Caesar the cat that I can rock this treadmill.  I decided to go for 30 minutes.

“Like a Prayer” was blasting in my ears (the Glee cast version) and I love that song.  My 30 minutes were up, but I wanted to hear the end of the song…so I kept going.  32:06 was when I flicked the switch.

32 minutes and 6 seconds.  That’s the most time I’ve spent on a treadmill in a year and a half.

This has been an amazing day for me.  Seeing your comments pop up in email, on my phone, on my Facebook fan page…it means more  to me than you know.  When I got home from work, I had so much to do I could very well have fallen back on another excuse.

I’m looking forward to moving some marbles VERY soon.  As soon as Mother Nature arrives and departs, I’m gett’in on that scale.  For now, I’m suffering through the water retention gift she gave me.  She’s such a bitch.

I hope you will all keep coming back, posting comments, and supporting each other.  It is really amazing what happens when we feel the support of others.  Tonight, I felt yours…and I am so grateful for it.

Thank you all for getting me on the treadmill tonight.

Imaginary Lap Band – Day 1 is done!

Sweet Jump’in Jesus…what a day!

I went to bed Wednesday night all excited about my Imaginary Lap Band experiment. I woke up with my inner Twinkie Worshiping Demon whining before my feet hit the floor. Perhaps I was dreaming about carbs chasing me. I can’t remember.

I was fine through my normal morning routine, then I got to work and drank my lovely protein shake. That’s all I get? 110 calories of a chocolatey chalky liquid? Oh…

I was still hungry. Normally when I’m in “eating healthy mode”, I have 3 slices of turkey bacon, fresh grapefruit, and a small bowl of Special K with skim milk for breakfast…so a “chalkolate shake” is not gonna do it for me. (Yeah, I pretty much eat the same thing for breakfast every morning when I’m in “eating healthy mode”…auto pilot is my friend in the hours before the caffeine hits my veins.)

I felt deprived when my chalkolate shake was gone, but I told myself to suck it up and get with the program. C’mon, it’s the first day of my experiment! How big of a wimp can I be? After all, this was going to be my diet for 7 days before surgery if that’s the road I end up going down. Time to walk the talk.

It wasn’t long before there was a pinching, throbbing feeling at my temple and I knew: incoming migraine. Great. I do suffer from migraine headaches, but usually only during the week when that bitch Mother Nature rears her ugly head. To make matters worse, I was freezing my ass off. They keep the air conditioning turned up way too high – and with most people on vacation this week, there were fewer bodies moving around. Those of us who were working joked that we could pour water on the floor and go ice skating. Brrr.

So I’m freezing all 4 of my asses off, I have a migraine, I’m super hungry, and my tongue is kind of fuzzy after my chalkolate experience. I was chewing gum (sugarless, of course) like a Jersey prom queen. Somewhere in there, I started realizing just how hard this was going to be.

Since I’d had my breakfast chalkolate at 630 am, I had my lunch chalkolate at 1030 am. Yum. It took the edge off, but the migraine stayed parked right where it was. I was wearing a sweater, my coat, a wrap, and a scarf – and my feet and hands were freezing. As I sat there in my miserable existence, I got a little scared about whether I could actually handle surgery.

All this time, I’d been assuming that I could handle this without much issue. Yesterday I followed the pre-op diet. This is exactly what I will have to do for 7 days prior to my surgery if I elect to do it. Yesterday wasn’t about eating what I might be able to consume AFTER the Lap Band is installed. Yesterday was about following a special diet of my doctor’s so that the amount of fat around my liver is drastically reduced before surgery. I was surprised and embarrassed at how bad I was handling it.

By afternoon, I was leveling off. My head seemed to feel better and I wasn’t hungry. I had found my zone: an organized ritual of guzzling water, Crystal Light Pure, chewing gum, and drinking hot herbal tea. I started banging around between “Maybe I can do this…” and “What the hell am I thinking?” It may seem strange, but just 8 hours into my experiment I was getting some real insight into whether I would be able to handle the surgery experience…and whether I want to.

I realized that, even though I try my best to be super gung-ho when I go into “eating healthy mode”, there’s always this underlying feeling of “Oh crap…what a drag. No more buffalo wings and cookies.” I’ve always just shoved that aside and kept on trudging towards my goal. But it’s been there, undermining me. I didn’t realize it until my first morning of Imaginary Lap Band…when my stomach was a gurgly mass of chalkolate misery and I would have given my right arm for a little bit of grilled chicken & spinach salad.

As I huddled under 50 pounds of clothing at my icy desk, I was both ashamed and proud of myself. Ashamed because I wasn’t handling the super restricted diet well, proud because my cravings were not for a McDonald’s sausage biscuit or a Starbucks salted caramel frappucino. No, I wanted a grilled chicken salad. Sometimes I just love me. 🙂

The migraine was still hanging around, but wasn’t nearly as bad as it was in the morning. I do have medication that I can take for migraines, but…I have to take them with food. That’s not the pharmacy talking either, that’s my stomach. If I take a pill without food in my tummy, I will toss my cookies faster than you can shake a stick. I’d only had 220 calories all day…I wasn’t about to risk tossing those back up. They didn’t taste too great going down. I didn’t want to know what they tasted like going the other way, thanks.

Another realization hit me as I sat there trying to keep my ankles warm: I was about to spend another 4 day weekend in misery. Last month, my Thanksgiving holiday was derailed by Mother Nature. I’d managed to get the pies baked and got the prep work started on the turkey and BAM! I was hit by the worst case of cramps I’d seen in a few months. I spent the rest of the day curled up in a chair, listening to my husband and my mother-in-law trying to gross each other out with the turkey gizzards.

Just 30 days later, I was excited by the opportunity to redeem myself during my 4 day Christmas weekend. I had a full schedule of organizing and cleaning planned, which was desperately needed after many lost weekends from various commitments. BAM! Mother Nature rears her ugly head again. I stayed curled up on the couch for the bulk of the weekend, repeatedly whimpering that all men should have to have cramps just once. And they should also be made to wear tighty whities with underwire that cuts off the circulation to their bizzles. Yeah, I’d be okay with that.

Now I was facing a 4 day New Years weekend of migraines and chalkolate misery. Such was my enthusiasm for the Imaginary Lap Band project that I didn’t realize the bad timing of starting it on my last chance for a holiday weekend. When I get an idea in my head I’m like a raccoon with a shiny object. I love that about me. Sometimes.

I wasn’t sure whether I would continue the experiment or perhaps postpone it for next week. My house is an absolute mess. I love him dearly, but my husband will start drinking from the gravy boat before he’ll do a load of dishes. I came home from a weekend trip once to find him eating his dinner with the giant serving fork and a carving knife. You see my point, I’m sure.

Over dinner last night (parmesan chicken for him, chalkolate goodness for me), we discussed the pros and cons of me postponing my experiment until next week. I decided that I would, indeed, postpone the experiment until next week so that I could get my house in order. My mother-in-law is coming for a visit this weekend and, although it doesn’t bother my husband, I’m simply not okay with her having to eat dinner off of an 18 inch serving platter because her son’s arms don’t seem to work within a 2 foot radius of the dishwasher. However, I didn’t want to just blow off an entire day of suffering…so I finished the day under the pre-op diet rules.

When I went to bed, I’d had a total of 620 calories for the day. That’s 3 protein shakes, a bowl of strained oatmeal, and a couple servings of sugar free jello. See what I mean about that grilled chicken salad? Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it?

I woke up this morning with a migraine. In fact, as soon as I’m done writing this I’ll be taking the magic pill that makes it go away. I have a day’s worth of house work to get going on. Just 24 hours into the Imaginary Lap Band experiment has taught me so much. This morning, as I ate my healthy breakfast of turkey bacon and grapefruit (I’m out of Special K), I caught myself chewing slower…with my eyes closed…savoring the yumminess of every bite. I really appreciated my healthy breakfast in a way I’d never done before. I began to think “Maybe I can do this the ‘old fashioned way’ after all”…and not for the first time. This experience has humbled me in a way that I would never have predicted and I’m left thinking “Maybe I just need to try again and leave surgery on the back burner.” I think I have a little more fight left in me than I thought I did.

(I also woke up with 1 pound less than I went to bed with. Good riddance! Weight loss tracker is updated.)

In just this little bit of time, my love for good, healthy food has been renewed. I’m looking forward to some fresh, grilled chipotle chicken tacos for lunch today and it no longer seems like a chore to me. There is no more underlying negativity or feeling of obligation. Did going without for such an insignificant time really change my outlook this much? I’m not going to over think this (for once)…I’m just grateful for the lesson.

Even losing this weight through surgery is hard work, I’m just not convinced it’s the route for me. I’ll be thinking long and hard about this over the weekend. When I think about jumping back into the ring and going 18 rounds with my food demons, I can feel my fragile resolve waffling between I can and I can’t. I want to jump back in, I really do. I think there’s a little bit of fear in there somewhere. I hate fear. I’ve got to get to the bottom of this.

Hope you’re all having a great week thus far!

EAS Myoplex Lite Ready-to-Drink Nutrition Shake, Chocolate Fudge, (Pack of 24)