Weighty Issues

How I see me

Me and The Green Miles

Had a doc appointment yesterday. Not a big-brain, scary one. Nope, just wanted to find out what’s up with some general aches and pains. Here’s the thing though -- I was flat out, stone dreading it.

Why?

Getting weighed. They make me get up on that evil scale every damn time I go in and, over the last five years, that’s been painful.

You see, about 11 years ago or so I dropped a ton (more or less) of poundage. My fractionated proton stereotactic radiotherapy treatments turned me into a puking machine.

Food was not my friend.

When the radiation failed to shrink or even arrest the growth of that fucking leviathan in my head, I went in for back to back brain surgery action (18 hours on the first go and five the following week). Let me tell you, this was some big old fun for The Amazing Bob and Jen. Me? Mostly I was in an anesthetized deep sleep. Coma time. I missed much of the fun. //snark//

NOT my goal!

When they got me home, I was def not interested in food. Why? Z time baby dolls, nap time! That’s all I wanted. Eating interfered with the dream state.

Eventually, with the persistent push of those pesky physical therapists who kept coming by to drag my lazy carcass out of bed, I returned to the living. And I was 40 pounds lighter than when I’d checked out. HAPPILY and YEA!

Yes, it was a lucky thing that I had the weight to lose. I know.

Never having been good at or happy about dieting, I was thrilled to bits. I’ll never be model thin -- fine by me -- but I really enjoy how I feel and look when I’m down to a trim-ish state.

Over the years, since inadvertently losing the excess, I put 20 of those asshole bad boys back on. I’ve been active -- walking and triking -- BUT I’ve also been into the pantry way too much AND not so swift at the portion control.

As the fabulous Sherman Alexie put it:

'I’m an emotional eater. I have an emotion -- I eat.'

Me and Grandpa, back in my trim days

Yup.

I’ve gotten to, what may be, the final mega disgusted and frustrated place. I MUST dump the bulk! It’s gotten to the point where I don’t want to sign up for the water aerobics classes at the Y because I can't bear to be seen in my bathing costume.

An aside -- I know I'm not grandly, morbidly obese. Leonard Nimoy will never hire me as a model but I'm not at a healthy, happy weight either.

So, what have I done? Am I fasting? No. Have I started on Three Day Diet schemes? Negative. ‘Hollywood Miracle’ plans? Nein.

I won’t buy special pre-packaged, processed boxes of Weight Watchers, Medifast or Bistro MD. Not cheap AND please brothers and sisters, I’m a vegetarian (who eats fish). I can do healthy -- my prob is with portion control, snacking and eating too damned fast.

What I need is to eat healthy. I won’t shed the bigness in a week but I WILL slim down.

I’m on my way too. At yesterday’s appointment, my enemy, the scale showed that I’ve lost four pounds. Not earth shattering but it’s a good start.