"I've had some success– I suppose I can admit as much at this point,
although it feels weird. So now I get a lot of people who PM asking for
advice, or saying they look up to me, and flattering though that is,
it's silly, because I pretty much just follow the rules (okay, the ones
that make sense) and it all comes out in the wash. So I usually don't
have much to add when people ask how you get where I have gotten,
there's no great mystery: the reason I have been successful in some
ways that others have failed I usually pass off as luck.
But that's not entirely true. I just realized it. There actually *is*
one more piece, and because I love ya, I am going to share it with you
now. Sounds trifling, but it contains volumes.
Here it is: YOU CAN do hard things.
I know, you're saying, "What's your point?"
Sometimes, when faced with a challenge– especially if you're a
recovering addict as so many of us are, when you approach something
difficult, your inner voice says, "Holy crap– I can't DO that"…and
you do an about-face– you reach for the drug (or Ring Ding) of choice.
To feel uncomfortable..and not to comfort yourself, is a hard thing —
but you can do hard things.
When it's late and you're tired, and you know you are supposed to walk,
you said you would, and it's looking like it might rain– it's hard as
hell to lace those sneakers up and get out there—
but you can do hard things.
Protein shakes can taste yucky. It's hard to remember all those calcium supplements. It's hard to get 64 oz of water in. It's hard to plan meals, buy expensive and healthy choices, stay out of the cake in the lounge at work–
but you can do hard things.
You don't have to self-medicate. You don't have to eat those chips. You don't have
to duck and avoid every unpleasant, difficult challenge in your path.
Sometimes, the best bet is to admit their existance…"Yes, hard
things, I see you trying to get in my way, but you know what? I CAN DO HARD THINGS!"
Sometimes this means having to survive a host of feelings you never
felt before because you never let yourself feel them before– stress,
confusion, anger, rage. You can't numb them out or sand off their
edges– you have to stand right in your space and let them have a go at
you– and grit your teeth, and say to yourself, "Go ahead, get in my
way. I'll get through this. I can do hard things."
And you will find that you will survive them. And as you survive them,
you will face new ones, standing a little taller, because in time you
will eventually understand and rely on the fact that you can do hard things.
And eventually the "pass me some Ben and Jerry's–my boss is a jackass"
response gives way to something new– something that sounds more like
"Go ahead, Boss, bring it on. I'll have that on your desk by five."
"No thanks, Nancy, it's gorgeous but I really can't have an eclair right now."
"I guess I could just park back there and walk."
"It's only 8 ounces and I don't have to love the stuff, I'll just drink it quickly."
"If I spend ten minutes planning now, I won't be faced with tough choices later."
Post RNY living is no joke. It's not easy. It's not
fun. It's not all "Whee, I'm a size 6!" Not everyone takes it as badly
as I did, but there were days I *literally* cried because a kid at a
store could have a cookie and I couldn't. I felt sorry for myself and
holed up in my jammies, burning candles, and chatting here to avoid my
When I started, I could literally not walk further than my car, which
is about 100 feet from my door. I bargained with myself that getting
down to maybe 250 pounds would be JUST FINE, I didn't need more than
that because I though to ask more from myself was ridiculous,
impossible– who the hell loses 220 pounds? That's not even humanly
And I found out the answer to who does that : it's ME. *I* can lose 220 pounds– I know it because I *did* it . I cancan get in my supplements. I can learn to accept my new, imperfect body. And with planning an management, I can make a post op life that still provides pleasure, joy and fulfillment.
I and I don't do those things because they are easy– I do them because they're hard, but I *can*.
I can do hard things.
And so can you. And you will. So the next time it's all too much (and
it is for me too, although less often as I grow), look your
RNY challenge– whatever it is— boldy in the face and say, "I can do this. I can do hard things."
Then pull out all the stops and grab the brass ring– it's there for the taking!"
A group of WLS'ers and supporters in Washington State, have an "Outdoor Adventure Team." This past weekend, a group of them scaled Mt. St. Helens! (Apparently Click Espresso Protein went along for the ride, LOL.)
WTG! I could only wish to last a hike THAT long I'd be curled up in the fetal position by hour four. You guys rock.
I just got an email from Kimkins, titled just that, Beth and Robert Lost XXX Lbs! I had to click on it, even if it was sort-of spam, because, it said, BETH AND ROBERT. Creepy, they're watching me.
We are unlikely to remain a dual weight loss "success" story if we keep going in the opposite direction on the scale, the both of us.
I know Mr. is up, because he's doing his "I've regained and I'm not gonna take it anymore" game. I have seen him make a protein shake, get on the treadmill AND avoid the muffin top, all in a week's time, that's serious business. He's never been back to his lowest post op weight since that one time, but he gets itchy when he hits another number, which must be now.
Myself, I am in the midst of staving off the Hungry-Hippo feeling that I have had since I started this motherfcking seizure drug. FEEEEEEED MEEEEEEE. I even emailed the doctor and said, "It's working, I am upright, BUT!! can we stop the munchies, please?!"
I feel obligated to be honest with you – even if you don't know me and could really care less – because that's half of the reason I am here. This blog was started as just that, a personal record and journey. I know some people out there in the weight loss/diet/WLS pseudo-professional world will hide or just gloss over the fact that they have any setbacks or gains. That doesn't help any of us – because we may look to them for support and guidance, and they are hiding the Haagen Daaz for a minute to talk to us. (That's why I do not hide the pizza. I ate pizza for two meals today. Should I lie and say I am drinking my meals and licking sugar free popsicles?)
This would be like me sharing that I am 135 lbs (and maybe adding on that I have "easily maintained this loss,") and showing you a photo of me that is at least 30 pounds heavier.
LIAR LIAR SIZE 12 PANTS ON FIRE.
Hell, I have NEVER been 135 lbs. May never be. But, I won't tell you I am if I am not. If I get that far – you will know about it – you'll hear my screams.
Mimi did it. (MIL) She's at goal and the hospital put her on the website.
Go figure, right? From THIS! Regardless of all the setbacks, she's done it. The woman does NOT touch sugar, and is tiny. She's giving ME clothes! (Because I touch sugar, haven't had a stitch of plastics and have a muffin top. 😉 ….)
354 pounds, I couldn't even hold my grandchildren. Now I can," she
lovingly boasts. "I had to keep my grandchildren at arm's length
because of my weight and it tore me up inside." Now, after loosing 210
pounds, holding and hugging her grandchildren tops the list of Bonnies
Before Bonnie stepped on the scale at
Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Surgical Weight Loss Center, Bonnie
already was a terrific grandma. She already had a winning personality
but loosing 210 pounds gave her a whole new outlook on life. "I now
have hope for a future that I didn't have before I had the gastric
roux-en-y bypass operation. Now I can do so many things. I live life
to the fullest, and I want to help others to live their life to the
fullest. I not only hold my grandchildren, I can sit on the floor and
play with them and run with them. I am having so much fun."
wasn't always fun for Bonnie Badore. Bonnie opens up in an interview
with Linda Trainor, Bariatric Nurse Co-coordinator. She discusses the
physical and emotional journey she undertook to obtain vibrant health,
happiness and to heal some of the real unspoken wounds of being
Almost at goal:
"Your weight is 298 pounds; your ideal weight is 134 pounds.
Thus, your “excess” weight is about 164 pounds.
Bariatric surgery might help you lose 65% of this excess weight, meaning you might
lose 107 pounds.
If you lost 107 pounds, then you would end up weighing 191 pounds.
191 pounds would thus be your “goal weight” for bariatric surgery.
Typically bariatric surgery patients lose this amount over the course of 12 to 15 months,
with slight fluctuations and possibly slight regain after that. Below is a graph of how your weight
might change after surgery."
It's even higher if I use my "start weight" of 320. This makes me more than a success? I should print this shit out and look at it every day when I see 159 on the scale and do the silent scream and go eat, because ARRRRRGH!