Category — Archive

FROM THE BARBIE ARCHIVES…Originally published August 17, 2009 on Gastric Bypass Barbie. 

Maybe There’s a Reason I Stopped at “Brownie”?

©Smithsonian Institution Press

I was a Brownie, but quit before I became a Girl Scout (always a bridesmaid, never a bride?). At the time, I said it was because I was too shy to participate, but I remember that I was always confused by all of the rules and regulations for “earning badges.” Okay, in my defense, I was only about 6, but even then, I struggled to be prepared — and find knee socks that actually fit all the way to my knees! (Yes, even THEN I was cursed with Kankles.)

In retrospect, I can see the beginnings of a bunch of really bad habits:

1. Feeling inadequate in the face of new ideas and tasks
2. Disliking the need for preparedness
3. Being worried about the future, and whether or not I would succeed.
4. Hating the idea of merit badges. (Okay, I’m not sure how bad that one turned out to be in my real life, but seriously, that one always bugged me. Especially when my MOM had to stitch them to my sash. C’mon! Wasn’t there a “sewing” badge???)

The reason I bring this up is, I got to thinking (worrying?) about the future, and I realized that there are lots of different ways to entertain these thoughts. There are healthy ways (preparation, anticipation) and unhealthy ways (vexation, hesitation), and which ways I choose will determine my success in the gastric bypass after life.

Here are some phrases that came to mind when I started thinking about the future:

• Anticipation
• Hesitation
• Preparation
• Trepidation
• Vexation
• Exhilaration
• Procrastination
• Celebration

Interesting mix of ideas, don’t you agree? Not surprisingly, many post-ops (myself included) worry that we will “regain all of our weight” and that somehow we will “fail” after bariatric surgery. How is it that *some* people DO regain their weight, and *some* do NOT? I’m thinking that it has to do with the way in which we view the future. Do we view it with trepidation (fear, anxiety, worry), or with preparation (planned success)? It’s kind of weird, when you think about it. I mean, surgery gave us a second chance at life. In many cases, it eliminated serious, debilitating, even life-threatening conditions. So, why should our vision of the future be one of angst, turmoil and unhappiness? Shouldn’t we embrace the future with dreams, goals, and visions of sweet success?

Ahh, if only it were that easy.

So, how do we go from FEAR to ANTICIPATION? Here is my thinking on the matter:

I say the first step is PLANNING: If we PLAN to succeed, then we will do what it takes to make it happen. We have to visualize ourselves living a successful and healthy After Life before we can achieve it.

Next is PREPARATION: Once we’ve PLANNED to succeed, it’s time to lay the groundwork, build the foundation for success through careful PREPARATION. This takes the form of pre-measuring our foods, creating menus, bringing protein and fluid with us when we run errands, and even scheduling exercise.

Next is ANTICIPATION: Shouldn’t we be excited about our plans and preparation? We should awaken each day with verve, vigor and enthusiasm for the coming day. We should know that we are READY for whatever the day will bring, and will succeed because we have PLANNED and PREPARED — even for the unexpected!

Finally, is CELEBRATION: We have to ACKNOWLEDGE our successes and celebrate the victories (small, big, scale and non-scale). Life is about living. It’s about experiencing joy (along with suffering). I think a big part of success in the After lIfe is being aware enough to notice when great things are happening in our lives.

Unfortunately, being the flawed humans that we are, life is not all happiness and joy; it throws us curve balls and unexpected drama. Anyone can succeed in calm seas; it’s what happens when the tide is high, winds are strong, and waves are crashing all around us that determines our grit. How do we deal with the inevitable vexation, trepidation, hesitation and procrastination? I guess if I had the answer to that, I’d be a millionaire, but I do have a few thoughts:

1) Marinating in my woes only serves to make them stronger (just like it does when we marinate a steak!) So, like I learned when my Dad passed away, it’s okay to be sad for a time, but when one sad thought begets another…and another, it’s time to stop being sad. In other words, it’s time to stop marinating in worry, and move on to more productive things (like remembering successes — or good times, as in the case of my pop.)

2) Worry doesn’t solve anything (and makes your face wrinkly!) I’m working on “letting stuff go” rather than laying awake at night worrying about what “could” or “might” happen. When the worry sets in, I try to focus on things that give me joy — like hiking with my hubby, wearing really cute (tiny) clothing, feeling healthy, and being able to get up EARLY!

3) Put more energy into planning and less into procrastinating. Now, I’ll admit, being a world-class procrastinator is NOT an easy thing to overcome, so it’s something I struggle with just about every day. But, Rome wasn’t built in a day, so I just keep plugging along, hoping for the best (but bracing for the worst!)

4) Living in the moment (the here and now) is way more fun than the uncertainty of what was or might be. I must remember to taste each bite, breathe through each high kick in aerobics, feel the breeze in my face while I’m strolling with Juan, and soak up the sun when I’m out on my bike. That is exhilaration. That is the goal of an Gastric Bypass After Life worth living.

So, where does that leave me now — today? I guess you could say I’m: Planning, Preparing, and Anticipating Happiness, while Exhilarating and Celebrating Every Day Life and banishing any hint of Vexing, Hesitation, Trepidation, or desire for Procrastination.

That’s a tall order, and sadly, there’s no such thing as a “Bariatric Badge” — but maybe there should be!

How about these?

• Protein Patch (for meeting daily protein intake goals)
• Salad Badge (for making amazing salads — why not?)
• Carb Badge (for recognizing good carbs from bad carbs)
• Timed Bites Patch (for waiting 5-10 minutes between bites — can you lose this badge or earn demerits???)
• Hydration Patch (for getting your fluids in — but not at the same time as you eat!)
• Vitamin Patch (for taking supplements every day, even when the chewable vitamins taste yucky and the iron stops you up!)
• Exercise Badge (for living an active lifestyle — every day!)

Can you think of anymore Bariatric Badges for my sash? Let me know; I’d love to hear!

Another one from the archives. I always liked this one because it made me look at myself, my life and my world from a positive perspective. It truly changed my attitude and helped get me through some rough times…Enjoy the repost. – Cari

A New Perspective: What I Learned From
A Guy Named Chet and a ’71 Ford Truck

A funny thing happened at the plastic surgeon’s office a few days ago; I got handed a fistful of “before” surgery pictures and wanted to cry. Not tears of happiness. No, I was genuinely mortified by the images staring back at me.

• Why wasn’t I happy to see my amazing transformation?
• Why couldn’t I see how far I’ve come?
• Why didn’t I understand that I don’t even remember those arms or those breasts?

Well, for starters, I look old and haggard (because I didn’t realize my face would be included in the shots, so I wasn’t smiling), I have a turkey waddle under my chin, and worse – my body is skinny, bony and downright ugly. I realize these are harsh words, (especially coming from someone who supposedly has a good self-image of her new body), but those are the words that came to mind.

On the one hand, I was thankful that the droopy, deflated breasts are no longer hanging around, and my wingspan has been replaced with lovely, toned arms – but I just couldn’t erase the picture of the person with the non-existent hips, bony shoulders and boyish frame.

That is, until an enlightening little conversation with a “wise guy” from my Thursday night support group. We couples (he and his wife, and my hubby and I) were taking in a show at the theater downtown. While waiting to take our seats, I happened to mention my eye-opening experience.

Well, Dave (that’s the wise-guy’s name) thought about what I’d said, and offered this sage tale (to see if it might strike a chord):

Way back when Dave was a skinny young kid, he had a neighbor named Chet. Now, Chet was a funny guy who loved drinking beer and washing and waxing his beloved 1971 Ford F-150 truck with camper shell every single Saturday. The odd thing is, Chet only ever waxed the hood. (Contrary to what you might have guessed, the beer had nothing to do with this seeming lack of attention to detail.)

According to Chet he just waxed the hood because that was the only part of the truck he ever saw when he was driving it.

It didn’t make sense to him to waste time, effort (and beer) waxing something he couldn’t even see.

Which brings me to my little epiphany: I have been worrying about stuff that I can’t even see – not when I’m walking, not when I’m bathing, not when I’m sitting, not when I’m driving – as a matter of fact, it’s pretty hard to see that stuff at all.

Ironically, the only way I can see it is if I’m in a try-on room with a 360º mirror, or if someone is pointing a camera at my naked self! Trust me, when I’m in the try-on room, I am not looking at my bony back – I’m looking at how fabulous my clothes look on me – and I don’t tend to indiscriminately disrobe in front of random photographers.

Which brings me to part two of my little epiphany: Would I rather look good naked or clothed? Well, since my hubby says he loves me no matter what, and my plastic surgeon doesn’t get a vote, I’m going to say that it’s best to look good clothed.

The moral of the story? I’m going to stop worrying about what’s behind me, and start concentrating on everything in front of me – like the future!

No more waxing the whole car; I’m just doing the hood – then hitting the road.

I originally wrote this for Gastric Bypass Barbie (my first blog)  in July of 2009. You know what? I still feel the same way…even 2-1/2 years later. I hope you will enjoy this little chapter from the past — and actually seize your day…every day. – Cari

Someday is Not A Day of the Week.
Someday Does Not Appear On Any Calendar.

I remember an old email that went around a few years back. I think it apropos to reprint here:

If I had My Life to Live Over
By the late Erma Bombeck

If I had my life to live over,

• I would have talked less and listened more.
• I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.
• I would have eaten the popcorn in the ‘good’ living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
• I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
• I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
• I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
• I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.
• I would have cried and laughed less while watching television – and more while watching life.
• I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.
• I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren’t there for the day.
• I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn’t show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
• Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
• When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, “Later. Now go get washed up for dinner.”
• There would have been more “I love you’s”.. More “I’m sorrys” …
• But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute… look at it and really see it … live it…and never give it back.

One of the lines I remembered most from Erma’s essay was the part about the pink sculpted candle shaped like a rose. That resonated so strongly with me at the time, because I was guilty of leaving my candles unburned. Why did I ever buy a candle if I didn’t intend to burn it? Was I waiting for a special occasion (or was I waiting for hell to freeze over?) Who knows?

One thing’s for sure, though – after reading Erma’s message, I started burning my candles (all over the furniture, and onto my good doily, thank you very much!) But, what fun I had smelling the wonderful fragrances, and basking by the soft glow with the lights turned off. After all, candles are made for burning.

So, how does this apply to WLS? Well, if you will indulge me a bit, I’m going to take a stab at rewriting Erma’s message to fit our new lives.

I Will Live the “Bariatric After Life™”
(Before I Join the After Life)

Before I leave this life to join the next, there are a few things I need to do. Since there’s no time like the present, AND, since “Someday” isn’t a day at all, I intend to begin now (and even repeat the things I like the best.)

TODAY:

• I will not wait until my thighs stop jiggling to put on a bathing suit and go to the beach.
• I will not beat myself up when I don’t get enough protein in one day, or eat too many carbs another.
• I will go for a long ride on my bike, and not be afraid that I won’t make it back home. The journey is what matters most; not the destination.
• I will stop calling attention to the clavicle bones that are jutting out of my shoulders, and will, instead, celebrate them with a cute sleeveless top.
• I will not wait until my legs are tan enough to wear those cute crop pants without panty hose.
• I will not insist that we turn the lights off so my hubby won’t see my shrinkly belly.
• I will laugh heartily and with great gusto when my body jiggles in ways it never did before.
• I will allow my family to “lay on the good pillows” when they are on the couch, and stop worrying that they will flatten them out. (Maybe I will have to work on this one a little bit…I really like those pillows!)
• I will stop worrying about the dust on the fan blades in the bedrooms. If I dust them once a month, that should be good enough for anyone!
• I will stop beating myself up because I can’t do that silly ab-machine at the gym (You know, the one where you lay down with your arms on the bars and then sit up while your back is entirely supported? I get horribly dizzy…)
• I will hug my daughter tightly and non-judgmentally and not feel responsible for her obesity.
• I will respond lovingly to my mom when she laments that she wishes I could “eat normally again.” I know that she loves me and wants me to be happy.
• I will spend less time weighing and more time playing
• I will stop measuring myself up against others to insure I am “no longer the fattest person in the room.”
• I will quit obsessing over whether Catherine Heigl really wears a size 6 or not.
• I will ride a horse on the beach next time I am in Mexico, and not worry that the horse will “break” under the weight of my butt.
• I will stop worrying that my bra gives me little bulges on my back.
• I will never utter the words “does this make my butt look too small” again! – By the way, Victoria’s Secret “But Lift” jeans with “engineered lifting panels” do not work.
• I will not feel compelled to preach the WLS gospel to every big person I see. They will come to it in their own time.
• I will stop wishing I had done the surgery sooner, and be thankful I didn’t do it later.
• I will no longer beat myself up because I cannot run. I can do many other things that I never could before – running just isn’t one of them.
• I will stop criticizing myself because I cannot ride my bike 100 miles in one day (for now).
• I will not get upset when someone does not like my advice (even if they asked for it.)
• I will thank God I am able to get out of bed every morning (without feeling like I was run over by a truck), and not complain about the ungodly hour!
• I will not complain that I must measure my food, and will be thankful that I have food to measure!
• I will relish flying for business trips (even back to China) because I now have plenty of space between me and the chair and me and the person next to me!
• I will not take it personally when someone says I took the “easy way out” by having weight loss surgery.
• I will jump in FRONT of the camera (rather than behind it) when someone wants to snap a picture of me.
• I will send out Christmas cards with a FAMILY PHOTO on them.
• I will make plans with high school and junior high school friends, and not worry that they will see my shrinkles (or wrinkles!)

And, with an appreciative nod to Dead Poet’s Society:

• I will suck the marrow out of life and not choke on the bone.
• I will sound my barbaric “yawp” over the rooftops of the world.
• I will live my life to the fullest, with each new breath, because, when that day finally comes, I want to find that I have lived deliberately and not discover that I have not lived at all.
• I will seize the day (Carpe Diem!)

I don’t know about you, but I waited 40 years for someday (which never came).
The last 2 years have been filled with amazing days, and I don’t intend to slow down anytime soon.

Are you waiting for someday to happen, or is today the day?

What SOMEDAYS are you making TO-DAYS?

This originally appeared one year ago on GastricBypassBarbie.com.
I love going back and rereading some of my archives…just to see if I still feel the same way today. HINT: I DO!

Walking, Breathing, Climbing Stairs, and Eating


Sometimes, as I’m going about my day, something ordinary will happen, and I will see it through extraordinary eyes.

Today is no exception.

I was walking to my car and, as I stepped down the curb to enter the parking lot, I caught myself worrying that I might fall. When I didn’t fall, I wondered in amazement how it is that I manage to ambulate every day — up and down curbs, through parking lots, to the store — WITHOUT EVEN THINKING ABOUT IT. See, that’s the key to this little ordinary moment. I walk without thinking about it.

Okay, it’s true: Every once in awhile, I will trip (usually, it is over an imaginary speed bump in the carpet, but sometimes, there really is a crack or a rock or a tree root.) If it’s a really bad day, I will actually fall. Of course, before I land, I am already panicking about hitting the ground (which is the wrong thing to do), so it usually hurts more, because I have tensed up (I overthought it). The best falls are the ones that happen before I know it’s happening – LOL.

So, when that happens, do I just lay there and never ever get up again because I am convinced that I am not able to walk? No, I pick myself up (or accept a hand-up, if someone is around to see my clumsiness), dust myself off, and carry on. That’s how it works: I walk, I trip, I fall, I get up, then I walk some more — just a bit more carefully this time.

And then there are stairs. Now, stairs are a little more challenging for me, because stairs and I have a very bad history. I have fallen down more flights and steps than I care to remember. Fortunately that doesn’t keep me from climbing up and down them, now, I just don’t do it as frequently as I “walk.” That means I am “not as good at navigating stairs, as I am at walking.”

Now, if you talk to MexiKen about this, he will tell you that I’m not especially good at either thing, but I contend that I have improved since shedding over 160 pounds, so that is a major victory, but I digress.

Even though I may not navigate stairs that often, I usually do okay. That is, until I stop to think about each step. Then my rhythm gets all funky and I trip or miss the stair or something. (Thank goodness for handrails, that’s all I can say.) In the past, I avoided stairs, pretty much at all costs, but not anymore. Now I kinda view them as a challenge that I usually win.

Same with walking. I used to hate walking (in all forms, including, but not limited to: strolling, hiking, jogging or striding.) Not anymore. Now I actually relish the idea of taking a long walk on the beach or up a steep hill or something.

Okay, so what do walking and stair climbing have to do with the Bariatric After Life™? Well. I’m glad you asked and am thankful you have stuck with me this long.

Walking is something we do without thinking (unless we have extenuating circumstances). It’s like breathing. We don’t think about breathing, yet we do it. When we choke on something, we don’t just “stop breathing.” We clear the airway and keep breathing! Same with walking: If we trip, stumble or fall, we don’t stop walking forever; we get up and keep walking.So, I look at breathing and walking like I do eating properly and making smart food choices (ahhh, there’s the connection).

With eating, I have learned that if I think about it TOO much, I “stumble,” but if I do what I “know,” I am more successful. Now, I’m not advocating that you NOT think about what you are going to eat, anymore than I would suggest you go walking without a purpose, destination or direction (that would be like meandering…or grazing!)

What I’m saying is, I think there is a way to move the concept of healthy eating in the Bariatric After Life into the “involuntary” part of the brain, right alongside walking and breathing!

And what about those stairs? Well, in my case, since they are a bit challenging, I look at stairs like I do eating at a party or a restaurant — in other words, something I don’t do *as often* as walking, but something I need to be good at, in order to “get where I need to be.” So, stairs require a bit more thought — but not OVER-thought, or I will stumble and fall out of rhythm.

For example: When I see stairs, I do a quick assessment: How many flights are there? What shoes am I wearing? How much time do I have to get to my destination?

Same with eating “out.” Where are we going? What’s on the menu? What will I order? How much time will I have after we are seated? Once I get there, it’s time to move into the involuntary mode, so I’m not preoccupied with overthinking the process.

Since I walk, breathe and even climb stairs without THINKING about it, I believe that becoming a confident healthy eater can be handled the same way! When I occasionally trip, fall, or choke, I simply pick myself up, dust myself off, and take the next best step (or bite). Hey, everyone makes “missteps” in the Bariatric After Life. It’s what you do next that matters most.

Gosh! I got all of this from not tripping when I stepped off the curb in high heels. Imagine how profound I am when I tie my shoes (and don’t pass out from lack of oxygen.)

Does this make sense? It’s okay if it doesn’t, but to me, the parallels are kinda cool.

I originally wrote this last June (for Gastric Bypass Barbie). Fortunately, I am not in “possession” of the extra 8-10 pounds I was lamenting about back then (at least not for now), but the message is still vital. I hope you enjoy this little Walk Down Memory Lane:

Fantasizing, Romanticizing & Giganticizing

Last night, I climbed into bed and my brain immediately switched into “overdrive.” Now, I realize that this is not a good place to be when I should be sleeping, but, next to the shower, it is where I do some of my very best thinking.

So, here’s where this posting all began: The word “romanticizing” popped into my head, because this is what I have been guilty of doing lately. You see, I have been wrestling with a few extra pounds (a reality which does not make me happy, but does give me something to work on!) Anyway, the more I thought about those pounds, the more i realized that there are a host of “IZING” words that could quickly consume and overwhelm my successful Bariatric After Life™– if I let them.

Let me explain:

As a pre- and early post-op, I would spend my days FANTASIZING about what I would look like when I lost the weight. I spent a bunch of time pouring over “Befores and Afters,” marveling at the monumental differences people experienced; wondering if I would ever reach that same goal, and if I did, what I would look like. Essentially, I was living in fantasyland every free moment I had.

Don’t get me wrong, fantasizing is not a bad thing, as long as it is based in some sort of reality, and involves a solid plan for achieving it. I think i was pretty realistic in my planning, because my original goal was very generous and, ultimately, more-than achievable.

Well, as a post-op, I blew past my original goal, to the tune of about 40 pounds, and found myself in a scrawny, skinny, meatless body with jutting bones, sunken eyes and cheeks. At the time, I KNEW that I was too thin and KNEW that my body would rebound to a healthier weight. But, somewhere inside, I was having this battle between what I KNEW was healthy, and what I actually LOOKED like.

As I remove my rose-tinted glasses and look back at myself with honest eyes, I can assure you that MexiKen did not love the way my little body looked — I had lost all of my curves, had no butt, and couldn’t fit grown-up people clothes. I looked silly in my baggy things and was constantly lamenting that I couldn’t wear some of the pretty clothes I was finding on the racks. Size 4′s weren’t just too big – they LITERALLY slid down to my ankles. It really was not pretty.

But, over time, I regained a little weight, those size 4′s began to fit properly, and I started “filling out.” Eventually, I settled in at a comfortable size 6 — a good place for my 5’8″ frame. I had a little butt and a few curves and no one complained that I was too skinny (or too fat). I looked healthy and felt great. Except that I kept going and overshot my “ideal” by about 8-10 pounds. Now, this is unacceptable, because I find myself outside of my new comfort zone, where things don’t quite fit as comfortably anymore.

It occurs to me, that what I have been doing is ROMANTICIZING my previous underweight status. I have been whispering sweet nothings into my brain, convincing myself that being a size 2 was wonderful, because nothing was ever tight or binding, and whatever I tried on always fit. Of course, I know this is NOT true, but this is how romanticizing works. You forget the realities, hardships, disappointments and struggles, and recast them as happy, glowing, glorious times.

Fortunately, I have not allowed myself to marinate in that kind of stinking thinking, because it is not only counterproductive — it is a LIE.

But, where do I go if I can’t romanticize or fantasize? Well, if you’re unhealthy, and fighting a few extra pounds, you can quickly begin to GIGANTICIZE. This is what happens when you start to tell yourself that you are a “big, fat loser.” You begin to exaggerate the reality of your body and what the scale is reporting, and start obsessing over weight regain. When giganticizing happens, you panic and your fat head runs the show. After all, you gained 5 or 10 pounds and now you are GIGANTIC.

Clearly, you can see the downside of this thinking, because it is neither productive nor empowering.

But, if you aren’t careful, giganticizing quickly turns to MINIMIZING. As in, “I *only* have 5 or 10 extra pounds. I’ve lost 150 or 160, and I’m fine with this weight regain. It’s not a big deal, and I’m sure I can lose it, if I want to.” In other words, you can quickly MINIMIZE the scope of the problem by using old criteria as your gage. “I used to weigh 316 pounds; I’m nowhere NEAR that now, so why is this a problem?”

Well, that brings me to the 4th “izing” word: RATIONALIZING. If you allow yourself to move into rationalizing, you are on a slippery slope to inevitable weight regain. Why? Because rationalizing goes hand-in-hand with apathy and denial. When you rationalize, you are actually telling yourself RATIONAL LIES.

So, what is the solution to this destructive “izing“?

Here are 5 little steps to replace BAD “izing” words with GOOD “izing” words!

Step 1: RECOGNIZE
Realize that you have a problem; that things aren’t going the way you want them to go, and you need to DO something before it is too late.

Step 2: VISUALIZE
Make some decisions about your recovery. What do you WANT the rest of your life to look like? What do you feel is a good and realistic weight for you to maintain? How will your body look and feel? Formulate that vision, then make that your goal.

STEP 3: LEGITIMIZE
Is your vision reasonable, achievable, and maintainable? Is it LEGITIMATE? If it is, then cement that vision in your mind; make it tangible, real and worthy and don’t let ANYONE or anything distract you from accomplishing it. Make it your driving force.

STEP 4: EMPHASIZE
Opposite of minimizing, in this step, you begin EMPHASIZING the legitimate vision you have created for yourself. You must make it a priority. Here, you are saying, “This is my goal and I will accept no less. All of my thoughts and actions must reinforce this vision to ensure it becomes and remains my reality.”

STEP 5: EXERCISE
No, I don’t just mean going to the gym or taking regular walks (although that is a part of it.) There’s more to this step than that. Here, you must EXERCISE good choices, healthy lifestyle habits, and positive thinking, in order to achieve and maintain your vision. This step is the most important of ALL of the steps, because it involves both mental AND physical exercise. It is a DOING word that involves meaningful and positive ACTIONS.

Do you find yourself “izing“? Perhaps you are guilty of Catastrophizing (a word I didn’t use above, but might be true?) — Perhaps you are blowing your situation so far out of proportion, you feel that you have no hope.

Well, there is ALWAYS HOPE — I know this, because I am a living, breathing, walking miracle, and people who are given the gift of a second chance at life have no right to be HOPELESS.

Here’s the bottom line: You can choose to FANTASIZE, ROMANTICIZE, GIGANTICIZE, MINIMIZE and RATIONALIZE until you find yourself regaining weight and losing control, OR, you can follow the 5 easy steps, and REGAIN CONTROL of your Bariatric After Life™.

Start MAXIMIZING your potential. Don’t MARGINALIZE your healthy life. Get started, get focused, and take charge of what matters most.

I know I DID.

Inflatable Life Raft

The term life raft is used for vessels carried by ships and planes to allow passengers and crew to escape in an emergency. Inflatable life rafts, also called life boats are always equipped with auto-inflation carbon dioxide canisters or mechanical pumps. The pressure release mechanism is fitted on board ships so that the canister or pump automatically inflates the lifeboat, and the lifeboat breaks free of the sinking vessel. Inflatable life rafts are made from flexible material, usually rubber, canvas, or neoprene, and hold air at high volume but low pressure. However, if there isn’t enough air inside, inflatable boats are apt to fold in the middle. Thus, they need to be pumped up to the proper pressure using bellows.

I’ve gotta be honest with you — I’m doing all that I can not to crack under the holiday pressure. Last week, I promised myself that I would not get plugged into the stress of the season by obsessing over things I can’t control or shouldn’t worry about.

Right at the top of that mental list are the words, ‘HOLIDAY FOOD,’ followed by the phrase, “it’s not about the food, it’s about the people.” For as long as I can remember (pre-surgery, of course), the holidays meant things like fudge, brownies, chocolate chip cookies, magic cookie bars, homemade cranberry sauce, apple pie, See’s candy, stuffing and leftovers. The holidays were when clients sent me wonderful (edible) gifts and neighbors dropped off baskets of baked goods. Heck, the holidays were when I broke out the cubes of real butter and colossal bags of chocolate chips and got down to the business of “celebrating through baked goods.” But, all of that changed when I had gastric bypass surgery. That first Christmas, I sat in the recliner at my brother’s house and tried to nurse a pumpkin shake while everyone else gathered around the table to overindulge. Last year, I was just trying to survive a gall bladder attack, which again meant that food was way down the list of things to do.

This year, I’m healthy (but for the annoying stress fracture), which means that I get to enjoy the holidays as a normal person living a full and wildly successful bariatric after life. But, what exactly IS normal? Do normal people get stressed out during this time of year? (Yes). Do normal people worry about exercising during this time of year? (Yes). Do normal people worry about what they are going to eat? (Yes).

Gosh, normal doesn’t sound all that different from what I did for 40 years, it’s just that NOW, I’m doing “normal” in a 150-lb body.

Which brings me to the title of this posting:  INFLATABLE LIFE RAFT (What if I Explode?)

When I think of an inflatable life raft, I visualize one of those boats that pops open when it’s not supposed to. In the movies, life rafts always inflate inside a tight space, like a compact car, a closet, or somewhere there isn’t enough room for expansion.

Sort of like my size 6 pants.

This morning, I had this horrible visual — that I was one of those inflatable life rafts (contents under massive pressure) just waiting to explode — figuratively and literally! I’ve got all of this mental stress just percolating beneath the surface, which by extension, is translating to physical stress (mascarading as pounds). I am not doing anything especially different with my eating — EXCEPT that I fear I’m NOT getting enough protein in, I’ve run out of some of my critical vitamin supplements, and I can’t afford to replenish my usual “go-to” goodies, e.g., Revival Soy Chips and Whey Up! protein drinks. I’m mudding through and doing my best to make good choices, but the stress of it all is bearing down on me, manifesting itself as the “blahs.” As I wrote on another forum, I’ve got a terrible case of the “I don’t wannas.”

Not to say that this past weekend wasn’t amazingly productive, because it was! I finalized my Thanksgiving menu, prepared my extensive shopping list (in Excel, naturally), broke it out by store (and category, e.g., “Bakery,” “Deli,” “Dairy,” “Produce,” etc.), transcribed some recipes and posted on the fridge, organized my earrings (I know that sounds weird, but they were on top of my bureau in neat little piles and I just wanted to put them away so they wouldn’t be cluttering my room for Thanksgiving), did the laundry, cleaned out my car (just another niggling thing that had been clouding my mind and keeping me from doing other things), visited a friend in the hospital, worked out, went to church, AND, did my grocery shopping at FOUR STORES (Von’s, Trader Joe’s, Big Lots and WalMart). So, it was a big weekend and I felt pretty accomplished — ready to take on the short work week and prepare for “The Big Day.”

And then I woke up yesterday morning and here’s how I felt: I’m on a rollercoaster and just roared down that first big drop. Unfortunately, I am now stuck at the bottom and there’s no chain to drag me up to the top of the hill. So, there I am in my car (with my restraints securely fastened) and I’m not panicking. I can see the stairs which will lead me to safety, but I don’t wanna take ‘em. I just want to sit in my seat and wait for the ride to continue.

Well, when I woke up today, that whole inflatable raft thing happened. What if my inflatable life raft springs open while I’m sitting in my rollercoaster car at the bottom of the hill??? There will be no way out. (At least that’s what my brain is telling me.)

What exactly does that raft represent? Oh, that’s easy: My “before” life, obesity, fat. I’m wresting with the irrational fear that I will wake up one morning and be a size 28-30 again, all because of the holidays. The part of me that wants to move as fast as she can is paralyzed by an overwhelming lack of “oomph.” The “I don’t wannas” have moved in and there is no sign of “clearing” until tomorrow afternoon sometime (when I will leave work, return to my “civilian” life, and start chopping onions and celery for the stuffing.)

I guess the best thing I can do between now and then is:

1. Give a voice to the things that are concerning me. Make a list of all the things I believe I have to do, then prioritize, determine what will get done and what won’t, then LET GO of whatever doesn’t make the cut. I’ve been doing this mentally, but now I must do it physically. (Time for another Excel spreadsheet!)
2. Stop worrying about money. (LOL – as if!) This has been a constant source of stress since May, but we have survived to this point and will continue to do so — as long as I am mindful of the budget and don’t get caught up in what I believe I “should” be able to buy.
3. Workout daily to the best of my ability. Okay, my leg hurts and my feet feel like they have 10 pound bricks tied to each foot as I pedal the Life Cycle — so I’ll just do the best I can and stay active!
4. Realize that everything will work out just the way it is supposed to, and no one will be any the wiser. My 25 guests will not care that my bedroom carpet did not get steam-cleaned, or that I don’t have fancy centerpieces on each table. They will care that we took the time to cook and bring everyone together for a beautiful day. They will not be looking at the number on my scale!
5. Eat slowly, with purpose, and include sufficient protein. I will continue to say “No” to those stupid Boston Market “corn bread” muffins at the office (that are really nothing more than cakes, disguised as something sorta healthy, but laden with 35 grams of carbs and 25 grams of sugar!)
6. Live in the moment. If I do not have a ton of energy right now, that’s okay. I will work with what I have and know that I have an amazing husband upon whom I can rely. Together, we will pull this off (as we always do).
7. Realize that I get this stressed out every year, but just never had a blog to discuss it!
8. Exhale.
9. Acknowledge that I miss my dad and am a little uncertain about our first Thanksgiving without him.

At the end of the day, Thanksgiving will be here on Friday (that’s when we celebrate), the turkey will get cooked, the stuffing will be ready, the table will be laden with food, there will be lots of healthy food choices and sugar free desserts that I can eat, but more importantly, I will be surrounded by people I love, and great joy will abound — regardless of the plastic utensils and paper plates! And that inflatable life raft? I think I’m going to store that with my Earthquake Preparedness Kit in the motorhome.

OOOPS! One more thing I’ll need to work on. Someday.

Get ready to file this under: UNPOPULAR OPINION

In the Bariatric After Life, a lot of time is devoted to “why” we do or don’t do certain things. I’d argue that fighting the weight loss (and maintenance) battle is 5% physical and 95% mental.

How many times have you asked yourself:

“Why am I always hungry?”
“What can’t I stop eating that thing?”
“Why don’t I want to work out?”

The “whys” inevitably lead to the “hows…”

“How do I make myself do this thing?”
“How do I stop myself from eating that thing?”
“How do I get back to the gym?”

For me, there are two answers:

Why Ask Why?
Just Do It.

I know that might sound glib (and unpopular), but that’s what I keep coming back to as I strive to live a fulfilling ‘after life’. When I wake up in the morning, and say, “How am I going to get myself out of bed and stagger down to the Life Cycle?” (remember, I’m nursing a stress fracture…), the answer is always the same: “I’m just going to DO it.” And, for the past 4 days, I HAVE just done it.

When I find myself overwhelmed with the desire to buy air popped “light” popcorn at Trader Joe’s, and ask, “How am I going to get past this craving???” — Here’s what I do; I don’t buy it. Then, I can’t eat it. (I just DON’T do it.)

When I find myself wanting to graze at night, and I’m wringing my hands, asking, “How do I control this insatiable urge? Why does this always happen at night?” I just tell myself that I don’t need whatever it is I’m itching for and then, if I still want to graze, I go to bed. Of course, if there is a real reason for the hunger (e.g., hormones (LOL) or the fact that I didn’t eat enough protein in the day)…then I can satisfy the need.

Look, I’m not perfect, and it’s not simple, but really, why do we always try to make more of it than it is? It’s like asking why a criminal commits a heinous crime, and then explaining that he had a rotten childhood. It doesn’t change the fact that a crime has occurred. Now, I’m not juxtaposing crime with eating or not exercising — let’s not go there — I’m saying that, just because you know why a behavior or thought is motivated, doesn’t mean the behavior or thought has to be put into action.

In other words, I was restricted to what I could eat as a child because my brother is diabetic. Or, at least, that’s why I THOUGHT I was restricted; in reality, my mom was feeding us healthy food because it was the RIGHT thing do do. But I walked away with the WRONG message, so the seed was planted and I fertilized it for about 40 years until it became a big, fat overgrown morass. Some might argue that I over ate as an adult to compensate for for my perceived sleight as a child. But, in the end, who cares WHY I over ate? I just needed to STOP the behavior.

I guess what I’m feebly trying to say is, sometimes, we put all of our energy into trying to understand WHY we want to do something, and there’s nothing left to actually change the behavior. That is why I have channeled my focus into living by the two mantras that opened this post:

Why Ask Why?
Just DO It.

I don’t always succeed, but I can guarantee you: By following this sage advice, I succeed way more often, than when I agonize over the “whys” and ‘hows”…

What do you think?

Why Me?

I originally wrote this post in 2009, but I think it is still pretty relevant, so I’m sharing it for the a whole new year — Enjoy!

Many years ago, while I was working on my masters degree, a fellow student lent me an audio book on tape that she said had changed her life. It turned out to be Dr. Phil — whom I’d not heard about at that time, since he didn’t have his own program yet. I still remember the shock of hearing his voice for the first time. And that accent! I wasn’t sure I’d be able to tolerate his voice through an entire 4 CDs!

Fortunately, I stuck with it, and learned a powerful lesson that has become the very core of my successful weight loss journey.

Background
In 1996, The Texas Cattlemen Association (US Beef Producers) sued Oprah Winfrey claiming “fear mongering” over her comment that she wouldn’t eat hamburgers again because she was afraid of contracting Mad Cow disease. Her statement carried so much weight, that in one day, sales of hamburgers plummeted, severely impacting beef industry futures. The cattlemen sued Oprah for her comments and for one year, she and her staff were hounded and threatened by Beef Industry thugs. Now, this posting is NOT about the rightness or wrongness of Oprah’s statements or the behavior of the Texas Beef Producers — I have no, uh…cow in this fight. Stick with me here.

As Oprah’s court date approached, she rented a house (well, “compound”, really) in Texas to be nearer to the proceedings. She asked Dr. Phil to stay with her for the month leading up to the big event. As Dr. Phil tells it, Oprah was devastated at what she felt was undeserved harassment for her comments. She felt that she was entitled to her opinion and didn’t understand why she was being sued for something that should be protected under the First Amendment. More importantly, she was disconsolate over the fact that her PEOPLE were being threatened and harassed — something she could not abide. As she put it, the Cattlemen’s “Beef” was with HER — not her people — and she was beside herself with worry and grief over their unfair and unwarranted treatment.

As her day in court drew nearer, she had many sleepless nights. One particular morning (around 3AM), she padded down the hall in her robe and slippers and knocked on Dr. Phil’s door. She said, “Phil, I just can’t take this anymore. Why are they DOING this to me? Why are they scaring my people? They have nothing to do with it — I’m the one who said what I said — not them! They don’t deserve to be harassed. Why won’t they just leave everyone else alone? This is so unfair.”

And here’s the crux of the lesson. Dr. Phil responded quite simply that it didn’t matter WHY they were doing what they were doing, and it didn’t matter if she DESERVED it or not. What mattered most was what she was going to DO about it.

In other words, was she going to continue wringing her hands over the “WHY” of the situation, or was she going to put her energy into the “HOW” — as in “HOW was she going to WIN the battle?”

Let me tell you. that was a Helen Keller moment for me. I distinctly remember saying, “I get it. I totally get it.”

I’d essentially spent my entire life being Oprah and wondering WHY people did or said hurtful things to me, or why I was always a victim of unfair circumstances. What I DIDN’T do was figure out how to move beyond the situation and succeed DESPITE it.

Let me explain how this crippling behavior used to manifest itself in me:

Why can’t I eat what everybody else eats?
Why do I always have to be on a diet?
Why aren’t I more athletic?
Why do I have these fat genes?
Why does my metabolism suck so much?
Why do I have a thyroid problem?
Why do I hurt all the time?
Why do I have to count calories?

Here’s what I SHOULD have been telling myself:

“Why can’t I eat what everybody else eats?”
First of all, *everybody* doesn’t eat *everything* — everyone has to make their own choices, and *everyone* doesn’t eat an entire sleeve of Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies in one sitting. Even if they did, they are not ME. I only have control over MY situation, so I need to decide whether eating 25 Thin Mint cookies at one time is going to help me get thin or not.

Why do I always have to be on a diet?
I wouldn’t have to be on a diet if I just watched what and how much I ate. This isn’t just happening to me, I’m a willing participant in this poor eating plan. However, even if no one else on the planet had to be on a diet, I do, so why fight it?

Why aren’t I more athletic?
I can’t waste time and energy wishing I were someone else. I am who I am, and that means I’ll probably never be the fastest or strongest athlete out there — unless that’s what I truly want to be. I have to learn to work within my physical limitations and just do the best I can. The goal is not to be THE best; it’s to be MY best.

Why do I have these fat genes?
We don’t choose our parents. We get what we get in the genetic lottery. It’s what we do with what we’re given that matters most. How can I use my genetics to my advantage?

Why does my metabolism suck so much?
I wasn’t born with a hyper-fast metabolism like some people. As a matter of fact, not EVERYONE has a metabolism like that. Most people have a “normal” metabolism, and it’s up them to know how to make it work for their bodies. Given my chemical make-up, what can I do to ensure my metabolism is working at its optimal efficiency?

Why do I have a thyroid problem?
Why is the grass green or the sky blue? Why do I have brown eyes instead of blue ones? Why do I have to dye my hair auburn to be a redhead? Who cares “why” something is a certain way — questioning its existence doesn’t treat the condition. I should be asking what I can do to bring the thyroid problem under control. Do I need medication, or is it controllable with food?

Why do I hurt all the time?
Am I working out, eating right, and taking my vitamins each day? Is my pain due to fibromyalgia? If so, have I eliminated yeast and sugar from my diet, or am I continuing to make poor food choices, which exacerbate my pain?

Why do I have to count calories?
Asking why I have to be accountable makes about as much sense as asking why I have to drive the speed limit or follow laws. Again, arguing the “why” of a situation doesn’t get me to the “how” — as in, “how can I win this battle?”

Which brings us back to Oprah: The moment she shifted her thinking from WHY and moved into HOW, was the moment she won the battle. She stopped asking why the suit was being brought against her, or why her people were being attacked, and sought about finding a winning strategy.

Ultimately, she did prevail in court, as I prevailed in my own battle with weight. (Actually, my weight battle is never “over” and I have to continue to wage war against it everyday, but you get the idea…)

The foundation for my success came from Dr. Phil and Oprah: I don’t question WHY I have to eat a certain way, or WHY I can’t eat and drink at the same time. I don’t ask WHY I had to have bariatric surgery to lose my weight, or WHY I have to workout every day. I don’t ask WHY I have loose skin, or WHY I will have to fight this battle everyday for the rest of my life.

“WHY” doesn’t solve the problem and it certainly doesn’t make the problem disappear.

“HOW” gives you power.
“HOW” helps you win the war.

“WHY” is not an action word.
“HOW” gets things done.

Are you are “WHYner” or a “HOW-TO-er”?

My new therapist, Jim, says I’m a “doer” — I guess that means I’m successfully ensconced in the “HOW-TO” camp.

Believe me when I say this: It doesn’t matter WHY I was born with the chemical make-up I have; It matters what I DO with it, and I’m DOING great things.

How about you?