Jupiter6

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I take the personal responsibility gig further than many, I know, but these are my beliefs and what I do/did about them:

1) If I am about to undergo a risky surgical procedure to assist my fight against obesity, then I am going to do my research and find the best goddamn surgeon I can find. This eliminates the 'My surgeon is a dipshit" excuse.

2) If my excellent surgeon suggests I lose pre-operative weight to minimize risk and make his job easier, I am going to do it. Why make *his* work harder just because I am a food addicted obstinant jackass? What kind of self centered nuggetard jumps up on a table and yells, "I screwed up, now YOU-- fix it!"I dropped almost 70 pounds in the 4 months between my first meeting and surgery day for that reason.

3) If the surgery I choose leaves it hard for me to discern fullness and satiety, I am not going to trust those "cues." I measure and count all my intake, every day. You don't have time to plan it? Don't eat it. Plan what you eat and eat what you've planned.

4) If I want to be able to continue to occasional enjoy treats, sweets, and non -nutritious snacks on occasion, I am going to make a way to fit them into my life safely. I'm going to develop a relationship of enjoyment and respect and not abuse: I will not eat out of fear or sadness, boredom-- but for pleasure. I'm not going to practice denial or overindulgence-- I am going to find a form of moderation I can live with. I'm going to watch the data to see whether this is affecting me adversely, and adjust the moment I see any untoward change.

5) If I really did this for my health, then weight loss is not enough. I'd be thin without exercise, but I wouldn't be fit. Strong. Healthy. So if you said you did this for your health but you aren't being active-- I am calling you out. Bullshit! And the "no time" is crap.  Ditto for supplements-- you made yourself a promise and got a second shot that some do not have. Respect that and take your goddamn vitamins!

6) If my surgeon or nutritionist drop the ball or aren't meeting my needs, I will seek the answers I need elsewhere. Should they be great at aftercare, and have answer to things? Sure. But if they don't, it's on YOU to find those. Understand your body. Watch your personal data. Ask the people who came before you what worked and what didn't.

Significant regain, barring a surgical failure, is avoidable, but requires vigilance. I live in fear of it every day (since it seems to happen a lot -- all around me now, as I approach 29 months out-- my peers are dropping off the face of OH and slowly regaining), but the fear is tempered by the belief that if I keep my head in the game, I have what it takes to handle it.

I lived my entire life as a morbidly obese woman-- and like the rest of my ilk, I endured ridicule and oppression, and pain and illness. I wore stupid assed Catherine's clothing and suffered the insult of a million animal prints and scottie-dog appliques on shapeless, formless shifts. I lost 220 pounds through blood, toil, tears and sweat and looked my demons right in their ugly faces, and never blinked. So I know I can do hard things. And that knowledge, God willing, may be my greatest shot at maintaining my weight and health-- knowing what needs to be done, and doing it-- not Monday morning, not "after this crisis ends", not after the holidays, but NOW, today.

Here the facts:

If you want to look fit, nah, you don't need to do much.
You want to be fit? You'll have to move.

This is the place where we find out what you're really made of when you say "I did this for my health."
_________________________________

When I started, Spring of 2007, I could physically literally only walk to my car-- which is maybe 100 feet from my back door. Climbing my steps at night meant resting a few minutes on the landing, and hellfire and brimstone would fly if I discovered I needed to go back out. Sig Ot and I *tried* to take a walk once, and after we'd passed 5 houses (which were all very close) I started hyperventilating and threw up in the bushes. My edema caused my feet to swell so large my shoes couldn't contain them. (That still happens on occasion.)

I started my pre-op diet. Lost about 30 pounds, and discovered I could walk a little further-- halfway around my block-- about 1/4 mile.

After I'd lost 60 pounds, in June 2007, I could walk a mile. It killed, but I did it. It's at that point that I bought a "Sit Down and Tone Up Video" and started using light (2 pound) arm weights. At first, I couldn't do the whole tape. I'd try, maybe twice a week.

I had my RNY in July 2007.

By the time I was down about 70 pounds, I was in Deep Water Workout classes twice a week, and taking 1 mile walks once or twice a week.

By the time I'd lost 200 pounds (about 1.5 years post op) I was walking in earnest-- about 2 miles most days. I saw a personal trainer for 4-5 visits and learned to do a weight circuit safely.

In May of this year I bought a GoWear and started DAILY exercise-- either an hour to old Jane Fonda videos, freestyle dancing to my MP3 player, doing weights (twice a week) or walking 3 miles a night.
------------------------
This fall I added group exercise classes. So now a typical week (I'll use this one as an example)is something like this:
SUN- 1 hour Zumba class, 2 mile walk, 1/2 hour weight circuit
MON- 300 cals worth of cardio dance with my MP3 player
TUE- 300 cals worth of cardio dance with my MP3 player
WED- 1 hr Cardio class
THUR- 1 hr Zumba Class
FRI- 3 mile walk or 1 hour video exercise
SAT- Walking and shopping, usually about 400+ cals worth

I also added more activity. I clean tables all day, sweep my classroom floor, pick up trash constantly while on hall and cafeteria duty, walk to people's rooms to deliver messages instead of calling, walking to drop off my rent, etc.

Am I losing fast? Nope- 8 pounds since May including plastics...but I am pretty close to my body's goal. And with a little plastic surgical intervention and a goodly amount of protein, I went from this in May:

To this, last month:

So for a girl who literally couldn't walk around the block a year ago, I do alright. ;)

I exercise every single day, without fail. It's part of my day. It just makes my body feel better and helps me to understand who I am inside this new package. Don't get me wrong, I dread it like hell-- but I think of it as a celebration of what my body can do. Every dance, every class, is a prayer, and a celebration of gratitude. Dig that!

I think that pictures are great, but for me, the truth is in the #s.

           

BEFORE                                        AFTER
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Height:            5'4 1/2"                    5' 5"
Weight:           368                          148
BMI:                 60.2                        24.6
Size:                38W   6X                  8/10  M
Chest:             48H                          32C
Waist:              55"                          30"
Hips:                65"                          41"
Calves:             23"                          16"
Arms:               17"                          9"
Ring:                Sz 9                        Sz 6.5
Shoes:             9EEE                       7.5 B
BP:                  120/80                    100/56 
Cholesterol:      247                         151
HeartRate:        78 bpm                   48 bpm

July  17  173.8  ( -1.8)   in   3 days
July 27   172.2  ( -1.6)   in   10 days
Aug  7    172.0  ( -0.2)   in   13 days * TOM day 5
Aug 11   171.6  (-0.4)    in   4  days
Aug 17   169.2  (-2.4)    in   6 days   Upped cals to 1000
Aug 31   168.2  (-1.0)    in 14 days  *TOM to start? Up cals to 1100
Sep   6   168.0  (-0.2)    in   6 days
Sep 13   166.2  (-1.8)    in   7 days
Sep 27   164.6  (-1.6)    in  14 days
(Oct 14    169.0  (+4.4)    Water Weight from VT trip)
Oct 18     162.0  (-2.6)   in   21 days
Oct 25     161.0  (-1.0)   in   7 days
Nov 8      160.4  (-0.6)  in   14 days 
Dec 7      160.0  (-0.4)  in   30 days    
Dec 14    158.0  (-2.0)  in    7 days    
Jan 18     156.0  (-2.0) in   26 days (flu!- Ray's scale)
Feb 1       153.2 (-2.8) in   14 days (on gym scale)
Feb 22    155.6 (+2.4) in   21 days (post vday bday &VA trip)
Mar 1       158.4 (+2.8) in   7 days  (can't explain-- much edema though)
Mar 8       155.8 (-2.6)  in   7  days (+ exercise, +Rutin, + TEDs 3x)
Mar 15     153.4 (-2.4) in    7  days (1 day post TOM)
Mar 22     153.2 (-0.2) in    7 days
Mar 29     153.2 (-0.0) in    7 days
Apr   5      154.0 (+0.8)in    7 days (Exercising more, eating great! :( )
Apr  10     153.4 (-0.6) in    5 days
Apr  19     150.6 (-2.8) in    9 days (even after Baltimore and 1500 cal Sat!)
Apr 26      154.4 (+3.8)in    7 days (no increase in cals, MORE exercise- WTF?)
May  3      156.7 (+2.3)in    7 days (retaining water- bad constipation--extra exercise-- WTF?)
*Despite the gains, bumping to 1400 cals-- I am wayyyy low for my activity level
May 10     158.0 (+1.3)in    7 days  (Ray's scale-- new good constipation regimen starts)
May 24     153.2 (- 4.8) in 14 days  (I owe it to good poopin'!)
May 31     156.0 (+2.8) in   7 days  (I am WAYYY undereating my RMR now- Got GoWear- will adjust.)
June 7     156.2 (+0.2) in   7 days  (gym scale 600-700 cal deficit daily)
June 14   154.0 (-2.2)  in  7 days   (gym scale 500 calorie deficit daily)
June 25   154.0 -- Day of Body Plastics (Mom's  scale)
July 5       147.5 (-6.5)  in  11 days (Mom's scale-- 1 week post plastics)
July 10     156.0 (+8.5) in 5  days--- Here comes SWELL HELL!
July 12     151.0 (+3.5) in 7 days-- 1400 cal (Mom's scale 2 weeks post plastics)
July 19     149.5 (-1.5)  in 7 days (Mom' s scale)
July 31     152.6 (- 1.4) in 47 days, overall--despite leaving 10+ pounds on OR floor! (gym scale) 1700 cals now
Aug 2       155.2 (+2.8) in 2 days--  WTF? Starting exercising in earnest again post op
Aug 9       150.8 (- 4.4) in 10 days-- water-- get outta here! 1700 cals daily unless deficit's over 500, then I'll add sumpin'
Aug 14     148.4 (-2.4)  in 5 days--- GO WATER GO! Lost 5.6 of the 10 pounds of post surg water
Aug 23     148.2 (-0.2)  in 9 days--- even after 5 lost days in VA--- YAY!
Aug 30     149.2 (+1.0) in 7 days
Sept 13    152.6 (+3.4) in 7 days-- having BAD swelling and edema since school started
Sept 20    150.4 (-2.4)  in 7 days- Day 3 of TOM and using rolling pin, exercise classes started
Sept 27    148.6 (-1.8 ) in 7 days-- Classes galore! Bought pass!
Oct 4         148.4 (-0.2)  in 7 days -(includes Community day carbfest!)
Oct 11      151.4 (+3.0) in 7 days- Classes galore still, tired as hell, busting ass. TOM starts Thurs?
Oct 26      148.0 ( -3.4)  in  14 days- After lost NY weekend and TOM started 10/19-10/25
Nov 1        147.8 (-0.2)  in 7 days
Nov 15      149.2 (+1.4) in 14 days
Nov 22      148.6 (-0.4) in 7 days-- day 2 of TOM
Dec 6        147.0 (-1.6) in 14 days-- including thanksgiving madness! (moved too)
Dec 13      147.8 (+0.8) in 7 days
Dec 20      149.2 (+1.4) in 7 days --day 1 of TOM

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 this:

"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 fridge.

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 possible, seriously!

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 can manage my intake. I can get in my supplements. I can learn to accept my new, imperfect body. And with planning and 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--- boldly 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!

It's a numbers in/ numbers out game, right? Oh yeah... Yeah, that's it!
                                       
                                 Actual Cals Consumed   Cals Spent       Deficit

Sat 30                                1838                         2694                     856
Sun 31                               1612                         2626                     814
Mon 1                                 1613                         2200                     587
Tues 2                               1572                         2332                     760
Wed 3                                1613                         2267                     654
Thurs 4                              1611                         2245                     634
Fri 5                                    1608                         2499                     891
Sat 6                                   2182*                       2397                     215

*Doubt it's this high-- overguessed to be safe

Gained 0.2 pounds.

This is the REAL stuff. I'm not a WOW moment person, but this is why I am really here.

We had our employee health fair today and they screened for everything in the universe. How'd I do?

Cholesterol: In 1986-- it was 247
                    In 2003-- it was 233
                    In 2007-- it was 177
                    Today---- it was 151
-----------------------------------------
Blood pressure:
                 2006: 120/80
                 Today: 101/56
The tech responded:"Wow, and you teach middle school?"
------------------------------------------------------------
Resting heart rate:
                 2006: 78 bpm
                 Today: 48 bpm
Different tech: He said, "Are you a runner? We usually only see resting heart rates like that in runners."
---------------------------------------------------------------
Osteoporosis Risk:
                Last year: not absorbing my calcium or Vitamin D
                Today: Bone mass measures -0.5-- at LOW risk for osteoporosis
---------------------------------------------------------------
Circulation:
                Previously: Obesity caused Chronic Venous Insufficiency
                Today: Arterial Elasticity Index of 22 ----Index goes from 0-220, 0 being good,
This tech said, "This is the second highest I have seen all day! You're so lucky to have such a healthy body, most people would pay to have numbers like that." And I was the last person today-- of probably 60-80 people :)
-------------------------------------------------------------
Body Composition Analysis: (Using Tanita TBF300A)

               Total Body Water: 64% (Ideal is between 45-60%-- I'm NOT dehydrated!)

               Weight 2007- 368 pounds
                         Today- 156 pounds

               Percentage of body fat: 12.2%
 
                            Now  this is weird, and very very low, (desirable range is 23-34%)  but the people 
                            before and after me were dead on. The tech was baffled, but I assumed 
                            maybe the extra skin and drinking more threw it for a loop. 

                            The tech said, "Huh. It does that when we measure athletes, not teachers."
                                  
                            Coinicdentally, one of the people before me is 3 years post gastric bypass     
                            and she doesn't exercise-- and she had a typical result.
      
                             So I go to the Tanita site-- and it says:

• Tanita defines "athlete" as a person involved in intense physical activity of approximately 10 hours per week and who has a resting heart rate of approximately 60 beats per minute or less. I exercise about 9-10 hours a week-- and my resting heart rate is 48. So maybe, MAYBE...I'm an athlete so I skewed their machine. I told ya-- I have a lot of muscle! Who knows?

                 Basal Metabolic Rate: 1448 kcal
                 (My RMR was tested at 1680 when I was a tad larger so that makes sense.)

                                                            Crazy stuff, huh?

In case anyone wants to compare notes-- and see how much you can potentially lose further out-- here's my stats for comparison. Keep in mind, I was SMO and lost 68 pounds pre-op.

The point is-- yes, the losses slow down, but you can continue to lose if you stick with your plans.


Pre-op-
Months 
                Pounds lost
5               15
4               9
3               15
2               12
1               17.2


Months
out            Pounds lost
1            16
2            12
3            12.4
4            11.5
5            13
6            7.2
7            9
8            7.6
9            9
10          9.6
11          5.4
12         13.2  *Note-- this is after 2 weeks of NOT POOPING!
13         4.6
14          3
15          4
16          2
17          2
18          2
19          1
20         1.6
21         2.8

Dear Fat Girl:

I was organizing some pictures from a couple of years back, and I found a couple of you. It's so funny how we have this resemblance, but we're really not the same. And while nobody else'd really understand why, I have to tell you, sister, sometimes I miss you.

I miss the way you used to stand out in a crowd, with your fiery red hair and your sparkly green eyes. Your constant laughter. I miss the way your friends used to hug on you and touch you all the time-- remember when they called you "nicely upholstered" and you laughed? That was you, Fat Girl-- laughing and enjoying the role to the hilt.

I miss your big, soft bosom, your flowy blouses. I miss the way you never wore a coat, as if weather was no issue to you. I miss the way you used to flash your cleavage at the bar: insoucient, sassy and carefree. I miss the way you guiltlessly scarfed your way through plates of nachos, pots of queso, Doritos and onion dip. Remember the time just after you and Sig met-- he made cheeseburgers and you had three? Oh, Fat Girl, you kill me with your reckless abandon!

Remember those cold nights in that bombed out house when you and Sig kept each other warm with your soft bodies? How he made you warm breakfasts? The nights cuddled by the pot bellied stove at the dark little restaurant after it rained? All about comfort, you were, Fat Girl-- no angles or edges to you-- a big soft void filled with warm food, arms around you-- a cuddlebug, you were.

But Fat Girl-- I've got to tell you: there's a reason I had to get away from you. Because as much as I loved your vital spirit, your love for life-- I knew your secret-- that all along you were dying...and that the dance you were doing was a Tarantella: you'd been bitten by the spider that would kill you, and your joyful last dance with the world was just your way of enjoying its bounty one last time before you went down.

Remember the time you decided to take a walk with Sig? And you got two blocks and started wheezing and vomiting in the bushes, because you were so winded? Remember Washington, in so much pain that you stopped every half block to sit on something? Remember the way you used to grocery shop while hanging your body over the cart, bent at the waist because you couldn't carry your belly or breasts anymore?

Remember that sumptuous anniversary meal where you could not get out of the car because you were unable to wake up? The time you fell on the dance floor and made it into a joke because you couldn't get up? Remember falling asleep at the wheel, at your desk, in meetings?Remember the time you put your foot on a white plastic lawn chair at Zeller's to tie your shoe, and broke the chair as a crowd of Canadians watched in horror at The Fatty American Who Destroyed Ottowa?

Do you remember that time when you, fierce and headstrong, decided to take care of that big round body and bought a swimsuit? Remember deciding it just didn't matter what other people thought---but then remember the little girl in the locker room sininging, "Fatty....fattty....fat fat fat..." as you became sadder, redder, as you tried to disappear? Do you remember her mother hearing her and punching her in the face? How angry you were at that mother...but how secretly happy you were that the singing stopped?

Remember the way your fat-enhanced estrogen stores went haywire and made cysts and caused you to bleed endlessly? And how they had to destroy your reproductive system completely just to stop the bleeding? The glucose tolerance test where you literally had to lie down on the lab floor? The doctor telling you you'd never have children-- and your relief because you never wanted them to be like you?

Remember the parks you didn't see, the excuses you made, the shooting pains that shook you from your ankles and all the way through your spine when you simply walked to your car?
The lies you made to cover that you just couldn't move?

Remember the kaftan sized shirts with appliques, animal prints and glitter that offended you to your core? Remember packing a suitcase and getting in 6 items, or filling your washer with three pairs of pants?

I remember, Fat Girl. And while I miss your passion, your fierceness, your spontanaiety and your sassy indignation, I do not miss the pain you carted with you everywhere along with that omnipresent bag of Chex Mix. I do not miss watching you sweat in February. I do not miss the sores you bore in every orifice, the people who yelled out rude things to you in public, the constant insult of your daily life. I do not miss covering for you, minimizing your illnesses and pains and making up lie after lie about why you could not attend this party called Life.

To get away from you, I've had to pay-- dearly.  Eight surgeries and $20,000 to separate us for good. I've risked my life to get away from you, Fat Girl-- because I, enraged at you, demanded I would live free, or I would die trying. I am so angry that you brought me to this point, Fat Girl-- but I am trying to forgive you-- because I know you only did what you thought you had to do to survive. You are forgiven, but now I need to get it behind me. I will remember you when I need you: your fierceness, your struggle, your pride.

So let us part as friends, Fat Girl--- but let us part. I'll always remember you fondly, and hope you understand why I have to leave you behind.

Love,
Shari



PS- I will be doing the 5k today-- for you.  Because you couldn't: but *I* can.

Well, it's because I LOVE the stuff. But there's more to the story, and even those of you who were here at the time mightn't be aware of it.

I am neither big boned, nor do I have a thyroid condition. I was morbidly obese because I ate lots and lots of food. I used food as a sedative-- I have a very big but kinda twitchy brain, and I adored the sensation of eating a bag of this or that until I was sated and sedated. I was a very big volume eater. I never said no to anything I wanted in my entire life. I never dieted. I ate nothing but crap.

People warned me that food commercials would drive me nuts after surgery, but you can't avoid them-- so I took a different approach-- and decided to leave the Food Network on 24-7! I figured I would become desensitized if I watched it all the time.

Instead-- something else happened-- I developed an interest in food. Not in *eating*-- which is what I used to do-- I bought the same ten foods over and over and ate incessantly. I liked the rules of food, the creativity, the look of it. I passed the meat case and Wegman's one day and cried because it was so beautiful.

At the same time, I would visit these boards and hear about how I would be eating a bar, a shake and a thimble full of salad for the rest of my life-- and I believed it. I stuck with a very low calorie level-- about 700 calories-- for many months-- and remember I was supersized, so I was running on a horrible deficit. I was badly dehydrated and haggard. I was exhausted all the time, and felt sick, like I was dying. I underate for the first year-- I thought the weight loss gods would look favorably upon me because of my devotion-- and they did, but the cost was very high.

I seriously thought about killing myself. I really didn't even have the energy to make a proper plan-- all I knew is that I wanted OUT of this bullshit. Never eating again? Nothing tasty? Bars and shakes? Effin' Puh-LEEZE! The boards read like a contest :we had, and still occasionally have what reads like "I bet I ate the least today" kinda crap.

But one day, something in me clicked, and I realized it didn't have to be that way for me. No matter what anyone here tells you-- this gig is NOT about deprivation, it's about living a healthful and meaningful life. I allowed myself a sample of cheese and preserves on a piece of melba toast-- oh the horror--- and it sang in my mouth! And I realized, maybe you *can* have a piece-- a slice, a handful, even a day-- of anything! Maybe the answer isn't deprivation, but moderation, like they say! Instead of the pendulum swing from plenty to deprivation, what if we all learned how to have "enough"?

Now I practice moderation--- in a goofy assed way-- instead  of little treats here and there all the time (which is a little too loose for my Germanic brain) I plan the crap out of my days-- and I keep it pretty tight-- and once a month or so, I go out without my calculator and just do whatever strikes my fancy. At first, that meant some HIDEOUS binges, including one where I hate a half salad, 2 slices of pizza, a mug of sipping chocolate and half of two small cakes in Vermont, which was followed by a carb coma I could literally not be awakened from (read: dumb!) After doing that a couple times, the urgency's worn off-- I realize there will be other free days not far from now, I don't have to cram it all in at once. That's good to know.

The rebellious part of me gets a big kick out of beating the system. Having 6-7 meals a day, including some sweets, tasty casseroles, pizzas, sammiches-- and making it work: It's my way of thumbing my nose at this dumb-assed predicament and enjoying my life. I share what I do in case it might help some other post op who's in the throes of the Food Police and thinks that that's just the way life's gonna be-- it's not-- and it doesn't have to be.

What kind of role model does this make me? I eat pizza! Candy! I walk instead of run!

Well...the only kind I know how to be-- the kind I wish *I* had. I know not everyone feels comfortable with my lifestyle-- but in the event someone's thinking of making their own way, I just want them to know that with a little creativity and science on your side, it can be done. Try things and watch the data. If you can create a life you enjoy and support the body you need to do it-- you're golden. That might be at 150 pounds, or it might be at 250. It's NOT a contest to see who can be the most "compliant"-- it's a challenge to see who can find the balance that best suits themselves. I am bound and deterimined that I can, and I would love to have every one of you here get there too, on your own terms and in your own time.