Two Months Down, A Lifetime to Go

Well, I hopped on the scale this morning, two months since the date of my surgery, and I now weigh 237.5 pounds.  Being in the 230’s is a pretty big accomplishment.  I haven’t been in this neighborhood since Brighid was a baby. 

This is not a journey I would recommend to everyone.  There are days that I could absolutely cry over missing food.  It seems that all of the things in life up to this point have involved food.  Celebrations?   Food.  Mourning?   Food.  Bored?   Food.  I haven’t found something to replace what was once my closest friend.  I met a woman at my support group meeting on Friday night who had her surgery nearly a year ago, and has only lost a little over 20 pounds.  She complains of problems with her doctor, problems eating anything, and was upset that she was referred to as mentally unbalanced by her doctor and his staff.  But with all of her eating problems, she managed to suck down quite a bit of trail mix that Chrissy brought to the meeting.  Obviously, she hasn’t replaced her best friend either.

Ironically, I spend much more time cooking now than I ever have.  I want to make sure Jim and the kids are eating healthy.  We have virtually given up fast food entirely.  The kids have gotten two treats since my surgery and have had fast food, but when we were once going every day for lunch, once a month is a huge change.  It’s nice though.  We’re all sitting at the dinner table together most nights (Monday nights are tough, and the kids and I usually eat at my mom’s), and while there is still stress over who’s not sitting still, who’s in the wrong chair, etc., there’s pleasant conversation and the baby really enjoys having everyone around her. 

I’ve been very lucky so far with this surgery, and I pray that everything physical continues to remain in good working order.  Now I just have to wrap my head around things and learn that food wasn’t really my friend.  It put me in the position where I could have died from any number of obesity related disorders.  So when it’s someone’s birthday, there will have to be a celebration that doesn’t involve cake, snacks, etc.  When someone dies, there will be no ice cream to dull the pain of grief. 

Having this surgery really means having to learn to live.  And feel.  And accept.  Those are all hard lessons.