I did a totally dumbass thing earlier this evening. I can’t even claim that I thought it was a good idea at the time. I knew at the time that diseased thinking motivated the action and did it anyway because the desire to show the lowest number possible on the doctor’s scale tomorrow took over.
I’ve been really good on my food plan. Up until a couple of days ago when I got sick, I was consistently great with my physical fitness plan and exercise. I’ve been losing weight and have felt great about it. This should have been more than enough for me to maintain a solid recovery mindset. I decided that it wasn’t enough. I got so hung up on the doctor’s appointment tomorrow and the damned number on the scale, that I opted to push things further. Yesterday I put myself on a “full liquids” plan. This meant fruit and veggie smoothies, protein drinks, greek yogurt and low cal/low sodium/low carb creamy soup. It’s the same plan I followed for two weeks prior to surgery and then, after the first ten days of clear liquids, followed for another four weeks post-surgery. I stayed hydrated, drank a lot of green tea and felt terrific.
A little more weight dropped off as of this morning and I figured that I’d really be in good shape by tomorrow.
It still wasn’t enough. So, when I got home from work tonight and made another smoothie to drink for dinner on my way to my manicure/pedicure appointment, I got the bright idea to use a laxative. From time to time my system slows down and needs a little help. As long as I don’t overdo and use only when necessary, it’s okay. It would have been okay in this case, too, but I took more than the recommended dose — just to be sure.
An hour and a half later, my system protested. I won’t go into all the details except to say that I cramped, broke out into a cold sweat, and was miserable to the point that I needed to excuse myself several times from the appointment to use the restroom. Finally, I couldn’t sit still and cut my appointment short. Thankfully, my nail tech is also a friend. My toes/feet were done, the manicure was half done, and she’ll squeeze me in on Saturday afternoon to put the polish on my fingernails.
I rushed home and alternated between curling up in my recliner and waiting in the bathroom for a good half an hour before the reactions settled down. The whole time, I scolded myself for bringing this on by taking laxatives for the wrong reason. Right now, I’m trying to get over the negative thoughts and stop beating up on myself. I made a poor choice. I experienced the consequences. It’s over. I need to let it go. However, I also need to remember tonight’s episode and what I learned.
The next time I fixate so much on my weight that I’m tempted to do something harmful, I need to make a different choice. On a daily basis, this is not about how much I weigh to the number. It’s not about whether I please my surgeon. It’s about making good eating choices, exercising, and being healthy in body and mind.
Weighty Matters 
Cathy, that’s exactly how I feel — like doctors’ appointments are tests I need to pass or fail. It’s good to know that I’m not the only one. thanks for sharing.
I don’t know if this applies to you, but I feel that subconsciously I view doctor’s appointments as “tests”. I feel that old pressure to get the best score in order to be approved and feel successful. And as there is nothing I can “study” there’s a certain amount of anxiety. Only within the last few years (I’m 65 and obviously a slow learner) have I really begun to recognize the fact that I don’t have to do what a doctor suggests, if I feel it’s not best for me. I have even told my doctor “no, I won’t do that” upon occasion. It’s my body and I have the final say.
I hope that your appointment reinforces your determination to do what is best for you. It’s your body and your weight loss is on your timetable, not your doctor’s based on others’ experiences. If you treat your body with as much care as you would the body of someone you love, I think you’ll do fine.