at tonight’s support group meeting, we discussed mindful/mindless eating.
physical (below the neck) hunger vs. emotional (above the neck) hunger.
while it wasn’t the liveliest of discussions (everyone in my support group is over the age of 50 so things don’t get too animated), it did provide me a few very important take-aways.
1. food is meant to fuel our bodies. food will not fix boredom, loneliness, or sadness. repeat.
2. since banding, i’ve realized i’m much more of an emotional eater than i ever thought myself to be. call it denial or plain stupidity, but yes. i eat because i’m lonely or bored. or because i’m happy. i don’t do it all the time, but i do it. and that’s a frightening thing to admit.
3. i can’t fix my problems with food by avoiding food. you’ve heard it a million times: you’d never force an alcoholic to go to a bar, but a person with a weight issue still needs to eat three times a day. i can’t fix my issues with food by avoiding it – or by not eating. to confront these issues with head hunger, i have to face them head on (no pun intended) and get to the root of the problem, which is undoubtedly scarier than admitting you have a problem to begin with.
4. hunger (physical or emotional) doesn’t go away just because you have a lapband. i hate that some people in my support group believe that once you’re banded, your hunger just goes away, never to return again. it doesn’t — at least, it hasn’t for me. and i know i’m not the only one. when i spoke up and said it was misleading to tell pre-ops that all they needed was a band to keep them from eating too much, a few other people nodded. yes, i’m still hungry. and i can eat way more than a cup – not that i am. i’m dieting – and right now, i’m doing it on my own. when i hit the “green zone,” i can start giving some credit to my band, but for now, it’s just me, myself and i.
5. after banding, i now know what it means to experience physical hunger. i don’t think i really ever allowed myself to experience TRUE physical hunger before banding. i didn’t stop eating long enough to ever feel it. but i now know what it feels like. and i feel it often. feeling physical hunger on a regular basis helps me to recognize the huge chasm between it and my emotional hunger.
what do you do to combat head hunger? how did you confront your problems (if any) with emotional eating?
becky was banded today. if you haven’t already, head on over and give her a few words of encouragement as she begins this new chapter in her life!
- last week (4/13): 238.8
- this week (4/20): 237.4
- WEEKLY LOSS: -1.4 lbs
- TOTAL LOSS: -21.6 lbs
- chest: 53″ – upper arm: 15″ – forearm: 10″ – stomach: 47″ – hips: 56″
- upper thigh: 30″ – lower thigh: 23″ – calves: 18″
- butt: 32″ (wide, baby!) – neck: 14″
six weeks post-op (4/19/11)
- chest: 47″ (6 INCHES LOST) – upper arm: 15″ – forearm: 10″ – stomach: 45″ (2 INCHES LOST) – hips: 54″ (2 INCHES LOST)
- upper thigh: 30″ – lower thigh: 23″ – calves: 18″
- butt: 29″ (3 INCHES LOST) – neck: 14″
today was a rough day. i saw the dietitian and cried.
yes. i was having a good, old-fashioned pity party and the only people invited were me, myself and i.
i cried because i am frustrated with my weight loss to date and the fact that i continue to gain/lose/gain/maintain. i also cried because i kind of hate my dietitian. why do i need to feel guilty about following doctor’s orders and not doing anything beyond walking/jogging for the first six weeks after my operation? answer: i don’t. and i’m allowed to feel frustrated when i’m doing what i’m told, and not seeing results.
regardless, this piss-poor attitude and my “woe is me” mentality needs a serious adjustment, and i’m the first one to admit it.
it’s just so hard to keep at it some days. and some days, it just feels good to cry. even in front of your dietitian who you may or may not hate.
- last week (4/6): 240.2
- this week (4/13): 238.8
- WEEKLY LOSS: -1.4 lbs
- TOTAL LOSS: -20.2 lbs
well, it wasn’t my weekend low (literally and figuratively), but i’m happy.
beat it, 240. i don’t ever want to see you around these parts again.
omgeeeeeeee. what a weekend.
me = exhausted.
i look like death run over.
well, okay. i FEEL like death run over.
and why? it’s not like i really did all that much this weekend.
————–insert dream montage (picture me with thought bubble)——–
friday: was supposed to meet some friends from college in a town about an hour away. plans fell through, so i ended up going to my parents’ house anyway and getting some cable-time (i canceled it at home about six months ago and never looked back) and laundry-time (ugh) in. this was the most relaxing time i had all weekend. i want to think about it for a minute so i can get through the rest of this post ……………………………………… there. done.
saturday: woke up late (for me) and had a leisurely breakfast (everything is pretty leisurely at my parents’ house, which is in BFE). read the paper. ended up scouring ads and my coupons and matching up some really great sales with some really sweet coupons. spent $40, saved $30. it felt amazing (especially since with all the co-pays/deductibles of the past couple of months, i haven’t had a lot of extra money laying around in my checking account). and it was just regular ole’ couponing – not that crazy, hoarders-level, stockpiling because we’re greedy kind of couponing. it didn’t even require that much planning. the coupon stars/planets aligned and the things i needed just happened to match up with some really great advertised deals, as well as some that i encountered on my shopping trip.
when i got back, i did it. IT. i accidentally swallowed my gum. yes. i ranted just weeks ago about chewing gum and about how “i’m 29 years old and no one was going to tell me i can’t chew gum”…and then i did it. i swallowed it. i don’t even know how. i just know that as soon as i realized what happened, i freaked out. and then i googled. and then i confessed. and then i drank some hot tea. some pb (from my googling). it all went down. i figured i was okay. when i got home (my home), i was still nervous that it was stuck in my stoma, and hadn’t passed the band. even though i had eaten solid food and could drink water, my throat felt heavy. something didn’t feel right. so i did more googling. it told me more pb (check). carbonation (check). wine (check, check and check). now before you start giving me a hard time about the countless bandster commandments i’ve broken in the last paragraph, don’t. i’ve already done it to myself. i had 2.5 inches of wine (yes, i measured in inches) and was trashed. wasted. chocolate wasted even. or more like franzia wasted (don’t judge, i like boxed wine). i made out with my bf (TMI???), convinced him to go to the dominican republic with me, cleaned up the kitchen and portioned out a week’s worth of meatballs (random). all things that any normal drunk 29 year-old does. and then i declared that even if the gum were still stuck, it didn’t matter, because i couldn’t feel it. i couldn’t feel anything. i haven’t been drunk in…oh….at least 30 co-pays, so i will forgive myself for my night of debauchery/day of idiocy.
sunday: AGAIN FOLKS: NOT PROUD! woke up at 5 a.m. for no good (or bad) reason. ate some eggs and cheese, went down fine. no lump in the throat. phew. watched tv instead of going back to bad (first bad decision). met up with my cousin, mom and family friend to head to my sister-in-law’s baby shower in pittsburgh. i drove. i had three saltines on the way. and a mini muffin.
WHY???? got there at 12:15 (SO MUCH CONSTRUCTION!). helped do showery things and took some “detail” pictures before everyone came in to disrupt the pre-shower environment. did i mention it was like 83 degrees and i was wearing a blazer (second bad decision: thou dost not bearest the arms yet)? well i was. so i was burning up. my brother told me i looked skinny (win!) and my mom told me i looked fabulous (but moms always say that). ate two crackers. two pieces of cheese. a strawberry. a small piece of chicken. a piece of cake. and two very flat glasses of diet pepsi. i obviously was looking for some sort of world record for poor bandster behavior.
the shower was great – they got a lot of really great gifts. once we’d loaded all of them into the back of the jeep/unloaded them, we headed home. again, i drove (third bad decision). i was in a daze. literally. somehow made it home to my parents’ house. unloaded the jeep/loaded my car and my cousin and i proceeded to eat two extremely melted reese’s eggs (fourth bad decision: these are the devil). once i finally got to my place, had a couple of chicken nuggets. i was convinced that i had broken my band and gained 20395029 pounds. fortunately for me, this morning when i stepped on the scale, i was down 2 pounds, to 237.8. um, yes please!!
got couple of hours of sleep only to be up at 6 a.m. and face a new week. and apparently i’ll be facing this week dragging. this would have been the perfect opportunity to call in sick, if only i hadn’t used all my sick days for my time off after surgery. regardless, i sat down at my desk this morning and journaled all of the weekend’s atrocities, and found that while i made some not-so-good decisions (as well as some that were downright horrendous), i met my protein goal every day. and still managed to reflect some change on the scale.
i suppose if i were perfect, i’d be quite boring. so you’ll be glad to know that am – and will probably always continue to be – the life of the party.
to save time describing my first fill in detail (and to save those who aren’t fill virgins from having to read about it), i’m copying and pasting from a facebook message about “my first time.”
so i had my fill. it was weird. but cool. they put you on the x-ray table and stand you up (feels kind of like a vampire in a coffin sort of thing, minus the coffin. and the sharp teeth). then they clean off your belly, stick a needle in (and it stands straight up, just like you), and you can see the band/port on the tv screen (just like the movies!). then they have you swallow some barium crap (tastes just as it sounds) and you can see it move through the band. very odd. but very cool.
he put in 5 ccs (he says MLs because he is still on the metric system??), which was too much. it couldn’t move through the band, something about scar tissue and still healing. so he went down to 2 ccs. too little. put an additional cc in. it was juuuuuuuuuuust right!! so i have 3 ccs in my 14 cc band. he said that i will likely only need one or two more fills to be at the right restriction, though i already can tell the difference.
the robes/gown were awkward…especially around strangers in the ladies dressing room.
also, i think he read my hospital survey (which heaped tons of praise on the admission nurse!!) in which i said he was capable and kind, but his bedside manner was off putting. he came out with guns blazing, shouting “hi” and “how are you” and “where the hell have you been?” (not really, but that would have been funny…and apropos). glad to know someone actually reads those scantron tests.
so now i’m back on liquids (including soups) for the next three days and then back to my soft foods. see the dietitian next week to go over my new eating plan. another one: yes!
so there you have it, folks. i’ve got 3 ccs in this band of mine, and i’m rocking and rolling with liquids until the weekend. it wasn’t painful, it just was. and now it’s over. until the next time.