Weighty Matters

Nineteen weeks post-op today.  Wow.  It feels like so much of my life has changed in less than five months.  I don’t mean just the weight loss, although losing over 80 pounds in this time is a major change to be sure.  I feel so much healthier mentally and emotionally, too.  The changes there have not come as easily as the physical, and they are definitely ongoing.  Most likely, I’ll always need to work on them so that I don’t backslide or relapse.

I’ve blogged about eating out before, but I’m really feeling the topic tonight again.  It’s Wednesday and I’ve eaten out three nights out of the last four.  Sunday evening I had dinner with friends who got married earlier in the day.  Last night and tonight I was out with my visiting nephew and his girlfriend.  Restauranteurs, if you’re reading this, I’m flat out serious about that need for petite plate versions of your entrees.  I learned from a friend of mine who has experience in restaurants that this would probably never work in a smallish market like the Keys, unfortunately.  There wouldn’t be enough demand to make the venture financially feasible.  New York City, maybe.  Something to do with the cost basis of an entree, how many have to be sold for profit, etc.  From my perspective, this is a real shame.

Sunday night, I ordered a filet mignon which was served with a baked potato and haricots vert.  A salad was served first, of which I ate a couple of bites.  Had I not, I would have eaten more of the filet, which was very tasty in a shallot-peppercorn demi-glace.  Suffice it to say that I boxed what I didn’t eat.  That filet lasted me for three meals, the last being today’s lunch.  Even three times weren’t enough for me to finish the green beans and potato.

Last night, the restaurant had an extensive list of appetizers, but most of them were seafood-based or deep-fat fried something — including fried cheese risotto.  I really didn’t want to order a full size meal, but ended up not having any choice.  I went with a Cobb salad, topped with two big pieces of tender grilled chicken.  I took my time and ate a few bites of the chicken with some of the very crisp bacon and blue cheese for variety — dipping lettuce and chicken in a balsalmic vinaigrette.  It didn’t take much to satisfy me and I loaded the vast majority of the meal into a to-go box.

Tonight we went to a family favorite restaurant in town to satisfy barbeque cravings.  Folks, when baby back ribs are on the menu, it’s time to offer full racks, half racks and quarter racks, please.  The half rack, which pre-surgery I would have had no problem polishing off, looked to my eyes like it had come from a mammoth.  Three or four of the ribs, a quarter of the steamed corn and a couple of eggplant fingers and I was full.

If restaurants ever don’t have To-Go boxes, I’m in trouble.

To be honest, I still enjoy going out for dinner.  Everything I order tastes really good, and that’s important.  I eat too little to torture my taste buds with boring, unsatisfying food.  Instead of complaining about the huge portions that make up a typical entree, perhaps I should just rejoice that I can really make the most out of a dining-out budget and flavor-fest since I end up getting three to four meals out of every one that I order and buy.

In other ponderings, I never received anything more than an auto-response form email from Food Network acknowledging that I’d written.   That said, if at any time Food Network premiers a show called Small Bite Wonders, remember you heard it from me first.  I talked about it with my nephew.  He suggested that I could host one.  I’m not a knowledgeable enough cook to sustain a show, but if they had picked out another chef to create the dishes, I could definitely talk to him/her about the food, the needs of the bariatric surgery eater, and other relevant things.  Then, of course, I could be the designated taster — as long as we stayed away from seafood.

I’m still trying to teach myself to like seafood, but early results are not promising.  While away in Boston, I sampled a small bite of my brother’s shrimp.  It was okay.  Last night, my nephew and his girlfriend shared grilled hogfish snapper over Caesar salad and a dish called Volcano snapper — grilled yellowtail snapper topped with a scallop and crab cream sauce.  I first tried a small bite of the yellowtail.  The first instant of chew wasn’t bad, but as soon as the flesh really hit my taste buds, I experienced the typical, shuddering, “eww yuck” reaction.  After a drink of water,  I moved onto the hogfish.  I have friends who claim that hogfish is their  favorite of all of the snapper varieties.  Truthfully, it was mild, not “fishy”, and a little firmer in texture.  This time I didn’t physically shudder or feel my stomach clench in pre-nausea.  Progress?   Umm, ehh, well — let me get back to you on that, okay?

I have to admit that this is more than a little frustrating.   I was sure that I could retrain my palate if I just opened up my willingness and tried.  I would like nothing more than to one day take a bite of deliciously prepared, fresh fish and light up at the flavor the way that I do with foods that I love.  I’m not quite willing to give up the experiment, but it’s discouraging that my tests so far have not yielded promising results.

Maybe I should try lobster again, or something like scallops that I’ve never tried before.   Any suggestions?

Have any of you successfully taught yourselves to eat and enjoy something that you previously didn’t like?  If so, how did you do it?

Last year around this time I was out at the sandbar on my boat with friends.  We were there at a higher tide so my boat was “up” in the water.  After swimming and walking around for awhile I went to the ladder to climb back aboard.  I couldn’t do it.   Even though I could get my foot on the bottom rung of the ladder, my center of gravity (aka my ass) was too low for me to get enough push power from my legs.  I was too heavy to pull myself up using arm strength.

This was a sobering, upsetting, and defining moment.  I had been considering weight loss surgery to this point, but considering and doing are far apart.  At that point, so were considering and investigating.  That day I drew a line in the sand, or sandbar.  The realization that I was too heavy to get back on my own boat hit me hard and I decided right then and there that I was definitely going to have surgery.  I started my investigation into options, methods and doctors that very week.

It’s like the event brought home to me in terms as crystal clear as the water that day that my excess weight was disabling me and keeping me from doing things that I loved to do.  I couldn’t imagine how miserable my life would become as the situation deteriorated, but knowing that it would indeed get worse became an excellent and powerful motivation.

I’ve been looking forward to getting back to the sandbar to see if I’ve lost enough weight to haul myself out yet.  The weather this weekend has been gorgeous.  Yesterday, friends and I headed out at a higher tide.  We enjoyed a wonderful ride, speeding across the water, picked a spot at the sandbar and anchored.  We slid into the water, floating around, swimming and talking for awhile.  When I was ready to climb on board, I again had to put my foot up pretty high — let’s say a height between my hip and my waist.  Unfortunately, in that position I still didn’t have enough strength to make it the rest of the way.  The immediate disappointment was sharp and discouraging.  I asked my friend onboard to let out a little more anchor line so that I could pull the boat back to a little more shallow water.  Now my foot was probably just below hip height.  This time I was successful in boosting and pulling without much trouble.  Whew!

Back on board, I processed the situation and my disappointment.  There are a couple of things at play.  One of my knees does not operate at full strength, so I’m a little low on boost power.  I also know that I haven’t done much work on building upper body strength.  I might have lost almost 80 pounds, but I still have a lot to lose.   When all was said and done and thought about, I realized that I cannot let this discourage me.  I’ve made great progress and, before too long, this won’t be an issue.  I’ll be able to go up that ladder, regardless of water depth, like the most agile person around.  In time, I’ll be able to jump off that boat, even in water that’s over my head, and be completely confident that I can climb out again.   I know this in my heart.

Instead of taking this as a setback, I’m going to use it as an indicator tool of goals.  1) Keep to the food plan and continue to lose weight.  2) Work on strengthening my leg muscles which will support my knees overall and help me with boosting. (The Tai Chi I do is excellent in this regard.)  3) Add some upper body and arm work.  (Tai Chi helps with some of that, but I need to add some light weights, which I can do at home.)

In the past, any discouragement or disappointment was an excuse to overeat.  Not this time.  It’s a mile marker and a reminder that this is a process.  I’m on my way and the more that I do, the more that I’ll be able to do.

Since I’ve spoken a few times about the sandbar, I thought you might like to see what I’m talking about.  Here’s a picture that I took early in the day.  Boats continued to arrive during the three hours that we were there, so by the time we left, there were twice as many vessels stretched along the space.  Quite the floating party!

A beautiful day in a beautiful spot.

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Edited to add:

Shortly after putting up this post, I was chatting with a friend on the phone.  She’s a Zumba instructor and told me she was leading a Zumba Gold class (for ages 50 and up) at 10:15.  Doing Zumba is on my Promise List.  I figured this was a great opportunity to give this exercise class a shot.  I rushed out and got there on time.  Whew!  What an experience.  I am extremely surprised, and happy, to find that I can keep up with the aerobic activity and toning.  I lasted the entire hour and didn’t pass out.  🙂 Maybe not all of my steps are perfect, but I gave everything my best effort, worked up a sweat and had fun!  Yay for me!

Unfortunately, the current class schedule only offers Zumba Gold weekdays when I’m working but my friend hopes to start a class on Saturday mornings.  Count me in!

It’s Memorial Day Weekend and I’m remembering a lot of people.  I’m holding thoughts and prayers for our military men and women who have served this country and guarded our freedom throughout history.   All of them, then and now, are heroes.

I think of family members who are no longer with us.  My grandparents, uncles, my cousin.  Most of all, I think of my parents.  I’m a little sad when I remember all of the years of me starting out chubby and growing progressively heavier as years went on.  Oh, their years of worrying and concern for me, my health, my happiness.  They tried everything they could think of to help me.  I think I might still have technically been an adolescent when Mom first took me to a Weight Watchers meeting.  When I was 11, they enrolled me in a summer camp that specialized in weight loss for girls.  The year that I lost 100 pounds on a medically supervised program where I ate only nine ounces of protein a day, they supported the effort by making sure that dinner was always something that I liked.  I was living away from home at that point, on my own, but they gave me the money so I could afford the program.  Dad, a doctor, also always wanted to know the results of my lab work and doctor check-ups to make sure that I was healthy.

There were a lot fewer choices for heavy kids and teens back then.   This caused challenges for dressy clothes for upscale events that we were invited to and, memorably, when I needed an authentic costume for my role in a high school play.  Mom went out of her way to take me shopping, even if we had to go to Philly or New York to find what I needed.

Through it all, they loved me.  Even if they were upset, worried, frustrated and angry, they always, always loved me more.

I was close to my thinnest in years when Dad died in 1983.  Six months prior to his death, my brother and sister-in-law got married.  I think I mentioned here before looking at pictures from their wedding.  I really looked good!  I’d also been achieving some weight loss success when Mom was diagnosed with cancer in 1998 and we started those long months of illness leading to her death.   I guess I can take some comfort at least that during those times their worry for me was reduced because I was doing better.

I’m feeling some regret today for all of those years, not merely because of the pain it caused them, but also for myself.  Then I remember that regret is a wasted emotion.  I can’t take back those times and, for whatever reason, every action and reaction led me here today.  I can only be happy that I’m doing something now and know, in my very heart of hearts, that they would be truly happy for me too.   I’m also very grateful to them, even years after their deaths.   Thanks to them, my investment portfolio had a good start and that’s how I was able to pay for the surgery myself since my health insurance wouldn’t cover the procedure.   In that respect, they’re still helping me take care of myself.

Looking forward, I’m going out on my boat again today.  I think of them every time that I do.  My love of the water, boating and fishing started when I was a baby.  We had so many great times.  Those memories are near and dear to my heart.

So, enough about me and the past.  I always think that Memorial Day Weekend is a great time to look not only to memories, but also to where we are today and where we’re going.  As we honor the fallen soldiers, we need to commit, every day, to providing for the needs today of our active military and veterans.  So many are coming back from the war with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and horrible physical injuries.  The families of active duty personnel need our support too.  We also need to look ahead and see what each of us can do better — for our soldiers, for our families and for ourselves.

I donate to an organization that provides programs for wounded warriors.  I want to seek out some that support families at home.

For me, I’m going to take each day as it comes and continue taking the steps to improve my health.   It makes me happy and, up in Heaven, I know my folks are happy, too!