Yarf express Thursday, October 16, 2008

When I was about 6 weeks out from surgery, I started throwing up. Sometimes my vitamins would set it off, sometimes one bite too much of dinner would, sometimes I'd have the dreaded "stuck food" issue. Once, I had an insanely bad reaction to some carnitas, a reaction that meant my husband had to pull over 4 times during out 15 minute drive home from the Zoo so I could throw up.

It was my body's way of getting used to doing its thing again, my stomach's way of figuring out how exactly it was supposed to work now that it had been made teeny. And it lasted a few weeks and then the adjustments were made and voila, the vomiting stopped. Until this week.

Saturday: We went out for dessert...a small cupcake and a chocolate covered strawberry with a side of tea for me. I at 3/4 of the cupcake and suddenly felt horrible. i didn't tell my husband, but I ended up throwing up in the bathroom before we walked home.

Sunday: We had a somewhat late lunch, and I was still really, really full feeling when we headed out to dinner with friends. I took a few bites of my salad and ate a breadstick and suddenly knew I was going to throw up. I finally figure out that I had probably gotten something stuck earlier when I threw up 3 more times over the course of the night, unable to keep anything down.

Monday: Had 3/4 of a frozen South Beach pizza with a salad on the side for lunch, a normal meal for me. Suddenly felt insanely full and promptly went and threw up. Miserable for the rest of the afternoon.

Today: Had a salad no different than any other salad I've had ...tuna, light cheese, baby romaine. Carrots and hummus and Wheat Thins on the side. And now I feel like something's stuck again because I can't even look at a glass of water without feeling nauseous. I've already thrown up once and I think I feel another round coming on.

I have no idea what's going on here. Maybe I'm not able to eat lettuce anymore? Maybe my stomach is still trigger happy from last weekend? Maybe it's revolting aginst the crappy foods I've indulged in? I just don't know.

What I do know is that I am tired of throwing up. It hurts and dehydrates me and I am miserable for hours afterwards. I'd like to stop now, please.

Off the grid Thursday, October 09, 2008

I didn't end this blog, really I didn't. It certainly seems that way though, with my disappearance after the anniversary post. In reality though, life intervened. We got a kitten, I got a new (crazy, hectic, stressful, awesome) job, my best friend got married, my other friend had a baby and I went back to school. In other words, life happened.

The only thing that did not happen was more weight loss. And exercise. Coincidence? Probably not.

Also probably not a coincidence: my current class is on Monday nights, which means I have not been going to support group, which means I am eating rather haphazardly. And haphazard eating + no exercise = Plateau City.

On the good side, I've maintained my weight loss (with minor fluctuation between the same 2 pounds) with little to no effort. I honestly believe that this might be my body's new "set point", the place where it's happy and comfortable. I'm certainly happy and comfortable here; I'm small enough to buy clothes off the rack of department stores without trying them on (size XL or 16/18), small enough to not draw attention to the size of my ass, small enough to be able to find a cute party dress off the rack without even trying. But I'm still pudgy enough to still have my fat girl cred, to have the ass and hips and boobs that my husband likes so much. You'd be surprised at how comfortable straddling the line between thin and fat can be.

And a funny thing happens when you get comfortable. When you get comfortable, you find yourself sliding into old habits, like Frosted Flakes at 10pm. Sure, it's a teeny bowl of Frosted Flakes but....it's Frosted Flakes! In the middle of the night! (Something tells me that Dr. Mueller would frown VERY BADLY at me for that one.)

People ask me what I can eat now. And here's the plain, unvarnished, gorgeous truth of it: I can eat anything I want. (With the odd exception of carnitas, ribs cooked a certain way, and ground beef.)

The plain, unvarnished, not as gorgeous truth: I eat anything I want. I just don't eat as much as I used to, because I am physically unable to. Sure, too much sugar leaves me feeling bloated and gross, but I can still have dessert if I know when to stop. (And no, I don't always know when to stop.)

So here's where I am. The bloom is off the rose, so to speak. My body has figured shit out and while my metabolism is better now, my rerouted intestines are not the advantage they once were. But I've got another 40 pounds I want to lose, so I have to do exactly what every other person out there has to do: eat right and exercise more and see what my body does with that. I am no different than any of my non-surgeried friends anymore, aside from the smaller capacity. I eat what they eat, I work out how they work out (okay really, I work out more than most of them these days) (which is a stunning statement, right there), and weight loss is no longer a random, miraculous occurrence.

And that sucks, because that means that damn it all to hell, I have to work at this. I have to buck up and put on my big girl panties (and ten million other platitudes) and get my ass in gear. And getting my ass in gear means blogging again, it means going beack to support group, it means joining things like the Breast Cancer Awareness 30 Minutes Challenge over at Elastic Waist and getting up and going to the gyme before I go to work more often than not.

But it also means not beating myself up, not shaking my fist at my reflection and saying I'm a loser for eating those Twizzlers (because a life with Twizzlers is a ad life indeed). It means exercising because I want to beat a previous record and it means sitting down to enjoy a four course fondue dinner at a fabulous restaurant with a fabulous friend because it looked too good to pass up (and oh my god, it was amazing). And it means not freaking out if I never lose another pound, because this may be it. All I can do is treat myself and my body better than I have been.

And most of all, it means coming back here and examining my belly button lint again. Lucky you!