I find myself once again in an earnest struggle to lose fat and reclaim my body. In the tradition of all great (and usually elderly) women in my family, I must start with a health saga. September 16, 2009, the 3 malted milk ball-sized gallstones that had been residing under my liver decided it was time to fly the coup. After an uneventful laparscopic surgical procedure, I developed a small bile leak. No big deal, except my self-concept of having a high pain threshold was blasted into narcotic oblivion while I struggled to avoid another surgery. The strangest side effect of what this rather common procedure was the complete loss of taste for “creatures with eyelashes”, ice cream (my favorite food group), and chocolate. Pounds started shedding. I started counting calories, and realized I could not force more than 500 calories a day into my enormous stomach.
Years of losing and regaining weight should have made me rejoice, but the remarkable change in my usual cravings only made me worry. Perhaps other fat people can understand this – perhaps not. With the support of my partner who wanted to lose 30 pounds, we decided to look at this as an opportunity — a gift even — from my body and team up to eat healthy, become more active, and refocus on the important aspects of life, i.e. family.
After healing, we took a 2-week vacation to the Southern Caribbean as cruise-virgins. Eating only at meal times but eating whatever felt right, I lost 4 pounds. Over the holidays with family and temptation staring me in face and delightful odors assaulting my nose, I gave in to my mother-in-law’s cooking, refused to count calories or weigh for over a week. I lost a pound.
The anxiety inherited from my mother would tell me that I have cancer 🙂 . My adult self realizes that I am finally starting to internalize what is healthy eating, but I must be ever vigilant. Thus, this blog as an adjunct to monitoring food and weight and behavioral changes.
Even if no one reads, I am here — writing.