Category — Random Stuff

Where is your focus?

Which way is she spinning?

Yesterday was Mother’s Day. Now, as a rule, I’m not really a “holiday sorta girl.” I’m just. Not. It’s not that I don’t love my mom, and it’s not that I don’t feel loved as a mom, but, I dunno, I sorta feel like there’s a great deal of pressure to show and receive affection in a particular way on a particular day, when it’s better to show and receive affection that way – every day.

So, there’s that.

But, there’s also the very real fact that I don’t like to be disappointed, and I hate not having my expectations met. “If I can’t have it my way, I don’t want it any way.” (Really attractive quality, isn’t it?) Now, truth be told, I’m recovering from this “all or nothing” way of thinking, but it’s still ingrained, and it still rears its ugly head sometimes. Especially on: HOLIDAYS.

Fortunately, in my house, we never really make a big deal of Mother’s Day, which means I don’t have to be disappointed.

Well…*suspicious* emotions and motivations aside, THIS particular Mother’s Day was different. It was truly different.

For starters, my 21-Year Old daughter (Hannah) BOUGHT ME A MOTHER’S DAY CARD (yes, with her own money) – several days BEFORE MOTHER’S DAY. It is an adorable card; so her; so me. I love it. She also handmade me a super-cute “CERTIFICATE OF AWARD” which entitles the bearer (me) to – wait for it – 1 FREE HAIRCUT!!

Heck, yes, I’ll be using that.

Ahh, but it didn’t stop there. MexiKen bought me a super cute card that is completely contrary to those typical, sappy Mother’s Day Cards (did I mention I don’t like sappy Mother’s Day cards?) Anyway, he got it for me because the cartoon on the front of the card has a woman in these cute pumps with sparkly stones on the toes. He said it reminded him of me. (Love that).

To top it all off, we took a lovely 18+ mile bike ride up the canal and back, then dropped by the grocery store to pick-up some salad fixins’ before heading home. It was a delightful afternoon.

And that was the good stuff. Got it? Cards. Certificate. Bike Ride. All good.

BUT…what I didn’t mention is, before the cards, certificate and bike ride, we (Hannah, MexiKen and I) went out for breakfast to a place I had hoped wouldn’t be crowded (I was mostly right): Panera. Now, Panera is pretty much ALL BREAD; ALL THE TIME – something I don’t do. BUT, they do have a Mediterranean egg white thing (which I order sans ciabatta bread), and they also have a soufflé (which I can eat about half of) – so, that’s what I typically do.

Except for yesterday.

Yesterday, they were sold out. That’s right, they were sold out of everything my pouch could tolerate. So I had: NOTHING. My family ate (because I wisely had them order first), but I had…crappy coffee. (I don’t like Panera’s coffee, but I didn’t want to just have a glass of water…I don’t know why not.) At some point, I decided that maybe I could try some black bean soup. (For Mother’s Day breakfast….right) but, I really was not in the mood for black bean soup…so I hated it.

And then we headed home.

I was deflated, to say the least. I felt cranky and cheated and disappointed. It wasn’t “fair” I thought. Why couldn’t I eat the way everyone else does? Of course, I already answered my own question, (Because I chose to have bariatric surgery as a tool to combat precisely that sort of unhealthy behavior – at least eating like that every day) – But..that didn’t make me feel any better. Sometimes…like on holidays…I really resent my Bariatric After Life™.  Sometimes, I just want to be: NORMAL.

Fortunately, that’s what pity parties are for. So I had one. For an hour. I frowned and groused and just felt pitiful. It was delightfully self-indulgent.

And counterproductive.

So, I decided I’d had enough of that, and changed my attitude. Yup.I pretty much started over and changed the way I looked at my day.

Okay, so I didn’t find anything that would work for me at the restaurant. Big deal. I had a protein shake when I got home. And then I ambled back to my computer, where I began to create a wonderful video for Las Vegas (which felt pretty good). And then…well, THEN, I decided to DO SOMETHING that I really wanted to do. Something I NEVER would have done in my “Before” life: I decided then and there that we should go for a bike ride, and that is precisely what we did.

Guess what? We had an incredible time.

So, how did I go from pity to party in 10 seconds flat? I changed my attitude….my outlook…my perspective. I changed the way I looked at my day, my options…my life.

Here’s what I’ve learned: There are many different ways you can look at a situation. You can focus on the negative, or you can focus on the positive. You can see only what you can’t do, or you can look for the things you CAN do. You can step away from the situation and look from a different angle or, you can get closer. Whatever you do, in those times when life looks dreary or down, the best thing to do is find the UP.

And that’s why I put that picture of the pirouetting girl at the top of this posting. Because there are always different ways to see things – and, while one is not necessarily “wrong,” sometimes, there are better ways.

Which way is she spinning?

This Mother’s Day, I chose to focus on what made me happy, rather than what made me sad. (And, yes, I called my mama, sent her a card, texted her, post on her Facebook wall – and sent her a Facebook message. I covered all of my bases, and we are going to celebrate together over Memorial Day weekend.)

Now that I’ve told you about my day and my struggles, I want to know what you do when you’re feeling down and all you can see around you is failure or roadblocks? How do you deal with disappointment? Do you get resentful? Do you give into it, or do you change your point of view and enjoy the life you’re given?

I know why I chose bariatric surgery: To live.

How about you?

Bariatric Breakthrough Challenge:
Dothan, Alabama

The Doc, The Guru & The Post-Op:
Does this shirt make me look short?

I just got back from an amazing trip to Dothan, Alabama, where I was fortunate enough to participate in the Bariatric Guru’s Bariatric Breakthrough Challenge (Presented by Erin and Ben Akey) with my incredible friend and business partner, Dr. Connie Stapleton. This was my first time to Alabama, and I assure you, it will NOT be my last! – (Roll Tide) – I met extraordinary people, with extraordinary stories, and found myself in the company of more than a few kindred spirits. All I can tell you is, compassionate support is alive and well in local bariatric communities, thanks to generous souls like Alta, Matthew, Sharon, Gene, Talli, Mandy — and a bunch of other folks whose names escape me, but whose faces and hearts do not.

In case you didn’t know, A Post-Op & A Doc have been involved with Erin and Ben since the first Challenge (through video), but this was the first event we got to PHYSICALLY attend. Let me tell you, it was unbelievably gratifying and energizing. I can’t say enough how much we enjoyed the event — and how much I learned! That’s the beauty of these things; it doesn’t matter if you’re a presenter, an organizer, or a participant – you WILL take home at least 5 new things you didn’t know before, you WILL come away with the sure knowledge that you are NOT alone, you WILL believe that you can live a healthy Bariatric After Life™ and you WILL recommit to gaining, regaining or maintaining a healthy weight management program!

In other words, this is exciting now matter how you slice it! (If it sounds like I’m gushing, I am.)

Basically, if you haven’t done so already, you really must make a point of registering for and attending at least ONE Challenge event this year. Your investment in yourself is guaranteed to pay dividends!

Here’s a link to the program page, so you can see where events have already been scheduled.

BARIATRIC BREAKTHROUGH CHALLENGES
COME spend the day with us.
LEAVE a certified Bariatric Guru!

The Bariatric Guru & Chef

TOPICS:

• Accountability (To yourself and others)
• Recommitment to a Healthy Bariatric After Life™
• Healthy & Active Living through Exercise, Nutrition & Supplementation
• Healthy Eating with the Bariatric Chef (It actually tastes good, and you’ll get to sample yummy foods and product samples!)
• Mind|Body Synchronization (Bariatric Help for Your Head, Heart & Health with A Post-Op & A Doc) – Food Addiction, Relationships, Body Image

If you DON’T see one in your area, contact Erin and see what it takes to get YOUR Bariatric COE (Center of Excellence) to host an event

I’ll leave you with this: Since I participated in this event, I’m renewed, reinvigorated, regenerated and reenergized to live a healthy and active life in 2012 (and beyond). 

Are you?

Hey guys!

I’ll be speaking at my 3rd WLS Vegas Meet & Greet (2nd for WLSFA) in May. Are you coming?

Here are the event details:

What: 2012 WLSFA Mother of All Meet & Greets: Kick It Up a Notch!
When: May 18-20, 2012
Where: BALLY’S Hotel & Casino (on the Strip, baby!)
Price: $110/Person

Discount Room Rates Available at Ballys.com

Here is what I’ll be talking about:

KICK IT WITH CARI

Whether you want to Kick some bad habits to the curb, Kick Start some healthy new ones, or Kick Around some fresh ideas for living a happy Bariatric After Life™, I’ll have you Kicking up your Heels with an energetic, informative and inspiring talk. You’ll get a real Kick out of my interactive presentation and might even get that Kick in the Pants you’ve been needing! So, come Kick It with ME. You’ll be glad you did!

I’ll see ya in Vegas, Baby!

In case you didn’t know…

When I’m not trying on new shoes or fixing my hair, I’m busy “kicking it” with Dr. Connie Stapleton as one-half of A Post-Op & A Doc – A dynamic duo that brings a unique brand of funny-but-firm wisdom to a hungry audience. We’ll BOTH be in Vegas, so please be sure to check us out!

Have you watched our videos?
Have you friended us yet?

When I was a young working girl, I had to dress up everyday for my job at the investment bank on the 22nd floor of a really tall building in downtown Los Angeles. I wore stockings, heels and suits, dresses or skirts. I never wore pants – it wasn’t acceptable, but that was fine, because my “butt-to-waist” ratio made it challenging to find a good fit anyway. Of course, in those days, spandex-enhanced pants were not really en vogue, (meaning there was no “give” or expansion to accommodate the spread). Needless to say, pants were uncomfortable.

Still…I did dress up. Every. Day. (And that really is the point of this blog).

To put this into proper perspective, I was not making a lot of money as a secretary, and, at that time anyway, Payless only sold tennis shoes, so I generally spent about $45 for a pair of shoes…That was a LOT of money, considering rent was $465!

Well, the other day, I was reminiscing about the “good old days” and remembered one of my VERY-MOST-FAVORITE-PAIR-OF-SHOES. Ever. They were taxi-cab yellow patent leather pumps with a sexy vamp and the perfect heel. Some people called them “school bus gold,” but that always mortified me, because it meant someone thought I was BIG…like a school bus.

Seriously. I thought that.

My shoes were way prettier than these, and they didn't have pointy toes, but these are for effect.

Anyway, I had two things that matched those shoes: One was a cute cotton dress with a matching fabric belt, (that I always thought made me look fat…isn’t that funny?) and the other was a sexy satin goldenrod yellow blouse that I wore with a black pencil skirt. But…those were the ONLY TWO THINGS that those shoes matched and, in those days, you didn’t go for a “POP” of color like you do now; you went for “MATCHY-MATCHY.”

They were a lot like these, only they weren't suede – they were shiny – and I don't recall ever standing on a sheepskin throw in mine.

BUT, back to the shoes. In reality, I must confess that they weren’t patent leather at all. They were pleather. That’s right: PLASTIC-LEATHER. And, they were tight. Incredibly tight. Incredibly, painfully tight. From the instant I put them on, until I took them off, they pinched my toes and hurt like nobody’s business. Yes, I bought them like that, and yes, they hurt in the store! Tragically, these stupid shoes hurt so much, I wasn’t even able to walk in them for the first hour. Fortunately, it would get better and eventually, my toes would fall asleep so the pain would localize, and I could wince my way quite convincingly through my day without anyone having the slightest hint that I was uncomfortable.

That’s what I did: I shimmied along in my über-sexy yellow plastic shoes and matching dress and acted is if I hadn’t a care in the world (because that’s what beautiful did. They ignored their discomfort.) Although…in retrospect, I cannot begin to understand HOW they tolerated the pain, except to say that they weren’t trying to balance 180 pounds on a 1/4″ diameter heel stud. Yeah, that was definitely how they did it.

Right about now, you’re asking, “What on EARTH could possibly have motivated you to spend money you didn’t have on shoes that didn’t fit in the store and weren’t going to stretch once you got them home?”

In a word? VANITY.

That’s right: VANITY.

I had always heard that you had to suffer for your beauty, so that’s what I did. Never mind those naysayers who warned me that I’d “pay the ultimate price later” when I was old (40) and couldn’t wear heels anymore. They told me I’d end up in sensible shoes…like nurses wear. And that I’d have bunions, calluses and misshapen feet.

But I DIDN’T CARE.

I wanted what I wanted — no matter the price.

What made me think it was okay to suffer in silence? Why did I think I needed to HURT for the sake of beauty? As I sit here today (in more comfortable, though much higher shoes), I wonder if it was the evil “over-compensation” at work. You know, the feeling that, since I was overweight, I had to pay the price by suffering. Perhaps I believed I wasn’t worth more, so I’d take what I could get and enjoy the compliments.

Or, maybe I just WANTED to fit in so desperately, it didn’t matter how extreme the consequences…

There might be something to that…after all it’s a skill I perfected in my obese years…the art of ignoring the consequences.

I wanted it, and that’s all that mattered.

Other people ate junk food; so did I.
Other people did whatever they wanted; so did I.
Who really cared?It was only LIFE…and I had so much more of it ahead of me, best to live it while I was young.

And here I am.
Older than 40.
Recovering from obesity and food addiction.
And still wearing high heels.

So, what changed?

Well, I think I finally figured out that I don’t have to overcompensate for my deficiencies anymore, because my goal is not perfection. I don’t have to suffer because I think it is expected of me, and I don’t have to wear shoes that pinch. (Unless I want to because they are so, darned sexy

The reality is, I am who I am, and life is too short to suffer and try to pretend I am someone that I’m not.

Why, if I had those shoes today, I’d proudly call them SCHOOL BUS YELLOW and not worry that someone might think I LOOK like a school bus in them!

What matters most?

Well…I think I’m gonna go with comfortable peace on this one. Yes, comfortable peace. That is the goal, and it doesn’t involve ill-fitting, taxi-cab yellow pumps or dresses that make me feel ugly.

Okay, I do miss those shoes.

Sometimes.

Here is a Little Life Lesson for Living a Happier Bariatric After Life™

I have always hated my legs; they just aren’t good looking.  Sadly, I was not one of those women whose legs stayed skinny and shapely while the rest of me got bigger. Okay, that’s not entirely true: I had an hourglass figure…but all the sand ran to the bottom.

Anyway, in this episode, I figured out that it’s not okay to decide that, just because *I* don’t like something, *no one* else can like it either. When you set up boundaries, and make rules about how someone can love you, the real loser is YOU.

When I was little, people told me that I should be an artist, an illustrator, or a cartoonist when I grew up. I heard this all the time (probably because I was ALWAYS DRAWING something) and besides, it wasn’t a far-fetched idea. Didn’t all of us imagine we would grow up to do something “fun” …that we’d make a living doing something we love? I grew up in the early 70′s when kids dreamt of becoming an astronaut, airline pilot, or even president. Boy, times have changed…

Anyway, I spent my formative years drawing, sketching and coloring on whatever paper I could find. During the school year, I’d draw pictures of couples (John + Anna, John + Donna, John + Somebody New…), and at the end of the school year, I’d “doodle” in people’s yearbooks.

I left my mark EVERYWHERE, and became well-known for my cartoons.

And then I started junior high, (which ran from 7th to 9th grade.) This was the first time art became more than just something I could do after lunch on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It was an actual “elective” that I could take, and I got to do it EVERY DAY! This was heaven for me, and I loved the idea of it all. Of course, we explored entirely new media — things like pen and ink, watercolors and clay. Unfortunately, I soon figured out that I had two problems:

1. I wasn’t very good at many of the new media, and
2. there was a girl named Julie P. who WAS.

Trust me, she was an incredibly gifted artist. Which only meant one thing: C-O-M-P-E-T-I-T-I-O-N.

Okay, so there was someone BETTER than I was at art.  Actually, she was SO much better, she was voted “Most Artistic” in the 9th grade popularity poll.

I came in second.

You know what they say, you don’t win the silver, you lose the gold. So, I did what any honest, self-discriminating person would do: I quit dreaming of becoming an artist. After all, everyone *else* was better, so why should I pursue a career at it?

Right about now, I can hear some of you saying, “What? Why did she quit art? Why would she do that? Why didn’t she learn from Julie P. (and any of the other artists who were better?) It’s true…that would have been the smart thing, I’ll give you that, but in those days, I had zero self-confidence and a fragile ego, so admitting that someone was BETTER at something carried a very high price tag. Unfortunately, that price tag turned out to be my entire creative self, because over the course of the next 8 years (until about the age of 20), I continued to run into people who were better.

I got turned down for VAPA (Visual & Performing Arts) program in high school, I got turned down for a scholarship to Art Center, and I got turned down for a promotion in the creative department at the ad agency where I worked. Never mind that I should have taken those rejections as opportunities to become better at my craft. Never mind that I could have asked talented and successful artists for help…Just never mind.

I took those rejections personally, and they became nails in my creative coffin.

Until…one day…I just…stopped drawing.

So, what was the lesson in that creative carnage? Well, it sort of came to me the other day, when I learned (for the umpteenth time) that my success as a post-op is viewed by some with scorn and jealousy. In other words, my success somehow translates into their failure. Are you noting the parallels here? The only real difference is, now, *I* am Julie P. and those people who don’t think they are “good enough” are ME! Unfortunately, this isn’t about crayons and paper — this is about life. This is about health, happiness and healing.

Of course, I can’t blame others for looking at me with derision – it’s a practiced art form for some of us; we compare ourselves to others, usually, unfavorably. I spent YEARS believing I didn’t measure up; I put myself on the losing end of the comparison.

WELL, not anymore. I no longer compare myself to others who are living a successful Bariatric After Life™ because I realize that we all have different gifts…talents…strengths…we are all different people who can bring a great deal of wisdom to the world, if we just BELIEVE IN OURSELVES.

Alright, I don’t expect to be voted “Most Fabulous” anytime soon (because, last time I checked, there were no Bariatric Yearbooks — LOL), but that’s okay. I know that I must share my talents with others and, wherever I come up short, must look to those who are MORE SUCCESSFUL to learn how THEY have succeeded!

So what if it took me forty years to figure it all out…I may be a SLOW learner, but I’m a GOOD learner, and this lesson has been well- learned: I didn’t ask Julie P. for tips on how to become a better artist, but that won’t stop me from asking others how to become a better ME.

Do you see yourself in this lesson? Have you judged yourself poorly against others who might have shed more weight after surgery, or been more physically active? Have you decided you are a failure because you don’t wear a certain size, haven’t run a 5K, or you struggle with bingeing?

If there’s one message I can give you, it’s this: LEARN FROM OTHERS.

Don’t quit because they succeed.
Succeed because they don’t quit!

Several weeks back, my good friend (and business partner), Dr. Connie Stapleton, posted something called: “If 10 People Say You Have a Tail, You’d Better Turn Around and Check.” I thought it was a brilliant metaphor and was really open to the fact that, should anyone ever tell ME that I had a tail, I’d take it in stride and not be the least bit hurt. Uh, yeah…not so much. Watch this video to see the lesson I learned when I found out that I HAVE A TAIL.

When we bought my Honda Pilot in 2003, we made sure to get the top of the line model, because we knew we were going to hold onto it for a long, long time. The only option we didn’t buy was the DVD/Navigation feature, because we just didn’t need it. We also upgraded the transmission so that it would be able to pull the fishing boat we had at the time. I was quite specific that I DIDN’T want a minivan, needed to move a lot of bodies without much difficulty, and wanted it to “fit” me (because I was still obese and overflowed car seats on smaller vehicles.)

The Pilot seemed to fit the bill in every way. So we bought it and loved it. Until we noticed that the leather was garbage (Think: Band-Aids with those perforated holes and you’re getting close).

• Then we noticed that the radio knobs were garbage (so we had it replaced under the warranty…though they failed again on the replacement model).
• Then the airbag sensor went out and they wanted $600 to make it right. I told them what they could do with their airbag and sensor and was quite detailed about it.
• Then we noticed that everything plastic that was painted (which is, after all, what makes it “top-of-the-line”) was flaking and peeling. Sorta like my face after my chemical peel only, in the case of my face, I ended up looking YOUNGER, while my car just looked…old.

Okay, so I learned to accept all of the disappointing stuff, figuring we could fix it in due time. We thought we’d bought the Cadillac of midsized SUVs, but we ended up with a Yugo (look it up.)

And then MexiKen lost his job and things went south (for longer than just the winter).

WELL, the latest thing to go bad on my 8-year old car (with only 103,000 miles on it, by the way) is the transmission. Yes, you read that right: the transmission took a dump, and the dealership wants $4200 to fix it. Plus, they want another $1800 to do the “100,000 mile timing belt service.” Are you freaking KIDDING ME?

Believe me when I say, this chain of events has thrown me for a loop and I have NOT been happy with Honda. It was my first and it will be my last – no doubt about it. Anyway, yesterday, I rented a little car. It’s a simple model with hand-cranking windows and no power locks. There is no leather, no remote-keyless entry, and no sunroof. There is just: A Car that Drives.

As I drove my little roller skate to work this morning, a few things hit me:

1. I have definitely undergrown my big old SUV, and can “fit” a small car quite nicely now.
2. Buying a Honda is NOT what it’s cracked up to be, and
3. Buying TOP-OF-THE-LINE doesn’t guarantee you anything…except that you will spend more to maintain it.

Okay, so what’s the LIFE lesson in all of this?

• Sometimes, I have goals that are unreasonable or unattainable.
• Sometimes, I achieve goals that I absolutely, positively had to achieve, and then I am disappointed by the experience, because it doesn’t live up to the “marketing materials.”
• Sometimes, that thing that I had to have from the late night infomercial does not work the way it does on T.V.

In other words, if I put my faith in something OUTSIDE of myself and what I have control over, I will pretty much ALWAYS be disappointed. Or, if I’m not, it may not live up to everything I’d hoped for.

I don’t mean to imply that you shouldn’t dream big — or dream BIGGER — because I know how important goals and dreams are in our lives — I just think that we need to maintain perspective. We need to know that “our mileage may vary,” and that sometimes we’ll get “flat tires” or have engine trouble on our life’s journey.

It’s how we handle the news that defines our success and happiness as individuals.

I didn’t handle my news very well. I tried to be positive, but it really sucked the wind out of my sails and took me almost an entire week to accept. The good news is, I am now more peaceful, because I know that better times are ahead. No, not in an unrealistic way — in a real way. This peacefulness comes directly from that Serenity Prayer that we all know:

God, Grant me the Serenity to Accept the Things I cannot CHANGE.
The Courage to Change the Things I CAN,
And the Wisdom to Know the DIFFERENCE.

Do I have power over my transmission? Yes. I can decide to take it to an independent mechanic who will charge me less and offer me a great warranty. $1800 is way better

Do I have power over my leather seats? Yes. I can decide that I may or may not need that option on future vehicles.

Do I have power over that thing I bought on TV that doesn’t work now? Yes, I can return it (minus shipping and handling) for a complete refund.

Yesterday, I hit the wall. I was tired of “NO’s” and just wanted some “YES’s.” I called it the “Wall of NO’s” and I just needed to find a way over, around or under it.

Guess what? I rented that little car and smashed right THROUGH it. (Yes, I have the extra insurance coverage, so don’t worry.)

As far as Honda goes? They are on my list and Santa WILL hear about how bad they’ve been.
….now, NISSAN is going to get an extra something in their stocking this year!

How about you? Are you guilty of unrealistic goals? Do you think that your happiness lies in settling for nothing less than the best? Do you think you can be comfortable and content with something LESS than top-of-the-line?

As we prepare to move into a little apartment somewhere and leave our beautiful house behind, I can tell you that it IS possible to be happy with less. You just have to have the right state-of-mind to succeed.

When I was a little urchin, I loved riding my bike — especially on vacation. My dad would pack our bikes (mine and my big brother’s) and we were free to fly along the roads at the campgrounds. We typically camped in places like Big Sur or Big Basin — places with big trees and lots of greenery. But, sometimes, we’d camp by the beach, which oddly enough in southern California, does NOT mean you pitch your tent in the sand. No, lots of beach campgrounds here are actually set BACK from the surf and sand in manmade gravel wonderlands. I can still hear the sound the tires made as they slowly moved through the park to get to a site.

One particular summer’s day – I must have been about 6 — my brother and I were riding our bikes on the gravel path and my bike tire caught a big rock. DOWN I went. I’m cringing now at the mere thought of it. I landed on my knee and the blood began flowing immediately — almost as quickly as the tears. Fortunately, I was not that far from the RV, so I managed to hobble over for some urgent care from my mom. Only…my mom wasn’t in the motor home; my dad was. Well he, (being an ex-Navy man which, for some unknown reason qualified him to be a trauma medic) grabbed the first-aid kit and got to work on my knee. Now, I don’t know if you recall first aid kits back in the day, but ours included such things as:

• Gauze
• Band-Aids
• Unguentine
• Alcohol
• Peroxide
• Bactine (I loved the smell of that stuff)
• Ace Bandage
• Tongue Depressors
• Tweezers
• Nail Brush <– I am convinced it was a wire brush
• Smelling Salts

In other words, we were well-prepared for any emergency situation.

I sat down and, in between sobs, managed to sputter out the entire, tragic event to my dad who, by the way, seemed curiously disinterested in the part about my knee connecting with the gravel, and more interested in how he was going to extract said-gravel from my knee. I thought it would be okay to leave the little rocks in there, but he was adamant that this would prohibit healing.

So…after irrigating it with some *benign* fluid…acid, I think…he got down to the business of scrubbing my wound with a wire brush. I’m serious. This is how I remember it: Acid and a wire brush. Once my knee was suitably disinfected, it was time to wrap it up. Not wanting me to incur any sort of nasty infection, my dad (in his infinite wisdom) felt it best to completely immobilize my leg with a combination of gauze, tongue depressors and an ace bandage.

I looked like Captain Hook.

BUT, I was patched up, good to go and ready to ride my bike again. Not so easy, considering I couldn’t bend my knee.

A little aside: As a direct result of this incident, I incorrectly learned from my dad that “more is always better” and liberally applied this philosophy to all areas of my life. True.

Okay, back to the bike.

I think I managed to pedal an entire three rotations when…down I went. Again.

If you thought the waterworks were flowing after the FIRST fall, you can only imagine the second one. I now had gravel embedded clear down to my patella. I’m convinced of this. I probably STILL have gravel in there. All I know is, the first aid kit came back out…along with the acid and the wire brush…and I was bandaged from stem to stern and my bike riding days (at least for that trip) were over.

Now, why a I telling you about my double-knee injury? Well, a few days ago I was driving home from work, when it hit me: You never completely recover from a serious injury. There is always a scar.

In the case of my knee, I still bear the scars of that day…nearly 40 years ago. Granted, they have faded, and I can bend my knee without any difficulty now, but I will never forget the event. When I ride my bike the thought of falling and scraping my knee on the asphalt is still there…way in the back of my mind. In other words, I am affected.

Think about that: If a fall from my bike — well, two falls, really — can be that injurious to the body AND mind, imagine what abuse can do to a soul? What sort of injuries did I sustain repeatedly falling off of the diet wagon, instead of a bike?

What about traumatic events, like abuse and addiction? Yes, they leave scars, and those types of injuries affect a person’s ability to function “normally” ever again – if there is such a thing as “normal.”

In my Bariatric After Life,™ I think I have learned to function around my injuries and my addictions, but I do “favor” the old wounds. At this point, it’s out of habit, more than necessity, but like an old sports injury that flairs up when it rains, I do remember the pain.

Which brings me to the idea of recovery from morbid obesity. Talk about SCARS! My shrinkles tell the whole story. It’s true. Sometimes I am angered and disgusted by my loose skin, and I go to that dark place of pain where I blame myself for my condition. But, then…I remember that I can function just fine — yes, even with the shrinkles — and I put my clothes on and welcome the day with arms wide open.

Speaking of which, those arms went through hell to get where they are today. Yes, I said, “hell.” 2-1/2 years ago, I had reconstructive surgery to remove the “bat wings” that I couldn’t accept. That’s pretty major surgery, trust me, and I am left with scars…minor, really, considering the extent of the operation — but they are there, and you know what? There are nights where they just hurt, or they just itch (and I can’t find the place to scratch because the nerves are still a little scrambled.) It can be frustrating and sometimes, I just want to cry when i remember what I’ve gone through. But I don’t. Instead, I take a good look at my arms and my body and realize that I am one of the lucky ones. I can function normally. I don’t look disfigured to the world, and I am blessed — despite my injuries, or maybe because of them. Either way, I bear the scars — emotional and physical — of the ravages of my obesity, and I must never forget my past,

I have come a long way on my journey.

Yes, I was hurt…
…when kids said mean things about me
…when people judged me because of my weight
…when I judged myself because of my weight
…when I medicated the pain with food

But guess what? I have healed — even though I have scars.

My wounds — emotional, physical and spiritual — are like a roadmap from my past, but I don’t need to ever travel those roads again. The road ahead of me might be made of gravel, and I will probably fall and get scraped up again, but I have my first aid kit (with lots of gauze and an ace bandage), and I know that I have many loving people in my life who are willing to “scrub my wounds,” and set me back on the path of wellness.

Yes, sometimes it feels like they are using a wire brush and acid, but I now understand:  Healing Hurts.

I’ll leave you with this:

• Take time to heal
• Be kind to yourself
• Wounds leave scars

The phrase “Interactive Food” has been pinging around in my head for about a week, and I decided there was probably a blog somewhere in there (LOL). Turns out, I was right.

Generally speaking, “interactive food” is anything that engages me and makes me feel like I’m doing more than “just eating.” If I feel like I’m having an adventure or an experience, then I’m most likely indulging in “interactive eating” and, since celebrating my food is NOT the goal in my Bariatric After Life,™ this is something I have to monitor. In other words, I need to make sure I’m viewing food as FUEL and not FANTASY.

Let me give you some examples of what I mean by “Interactive Food”…just to help you understand my meaning a bit more.

(Once you read my list, I’m guessing you’ll have a few of your own to add.)

Pizza: There are lots of ways to experience a slice of pizza. You can dredge the cheese off the crust; you can pluck the pepperonis off the cheese; you can streeeeettttcccchhhh the cheese on the slice to see how far you can go before it separates from the “mother ship.” See? Interactive.

Nachos: Do you drizzle the processed cheese crap so that it flows into every nook and cranny of every chip? Do you layer chips, then cheese, then jalapeños, then beans, then meat, then repeat and top with sour cream? Do you scoop up a little of EVERYTHING with each chip? Totally and completely: Interactive

Waffles: Hello, syrup? I need you to fill up EVERY. SINGLE. SQUARE. PLEASE. Interactive breakfast food!

Oreo Cookies: Puhlease. Isn’t this THE most interactive cookie out there? You can twist and separate. You can eat all together — cookie-cream-cookie. You can separate the cookies and pluck off the lard patty. You can roll the lard patty and eat it like a lard burrito. You can stack the cookies and stack the lard patties. It’s crazy interactive.

Chicken Nuggets (or anything you dip): The dipping options are limitless, and you are allowed to double-dip: BBQ sauce? Sweet & Sour Sauce? Ranch with Tapatio? The possibilities are endless. Highly interactive.

Hot Fudge Sundaes: Okay, it’s been awhile, but last thing I remember, there was some engineering skill involved in building the perfect sundae. It involved the perfect base of ice cream, followed by a “Matterhorn-esque” structure of whipped cream, followed by a healthy (ha!) drizzling of hot fudge, nuts and more than one cherry on top. When I went to one of those dangerous ice cream shops, I generally pointed at every container — just like you do at Subway — “Some of that…some of those…yes to the gummies…yes to the sprinkles…yes to the nuts…no to the M&M’s (I’m on a diet.)” Verdict: Interactive

Spaghetti & Meatballs: Do you break the pasta before you cook it? Heck, no! You cook it whole and then you have to twirl it onto your fork using a ladle to support the spool. Do you eat the entire meatball in one bite, or cut it into wedges (like an orange)? Do you drown everything is sauce, or just use a little? How much parmesan and what kind? Grated? Shredded? I loved it when the waiter would use that little grater wheel and tell me to “say when.” Ooooh…Interactiv-isimo.

Coffee: Hello? It has its own interactive category. Coffee has become THE main event. You don’t have to worry about getting turned down for a second cup anymore. Thank you, Starbucks Drive-thru.

Which brings me to my next thought: DRIVE-THRU. Doesn’t that automatically denote that whatever is at the end of that curvy driveway, after the little speaker box, up at the cashier window will necessarily BE interactive? Note that glaring lack of drive-thru windows at: Fresh & Easy, Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods? I rest my case.

Okay, so that pretty well defines “interactive food,” right? It’s an event, an experience, a destination. F-O-O-D. Let’s order a party crate and take it to-go.

Now, here’s what I call “Non-Interactive Food” which, by the way…is usually healthy. Okay, that’s just the truth. Healthy food doesn’t come in noisy packaging — you will never awaken someone by opening a banana which to me, is the most interactive healthy food I can think of. That, and maybe an orange. But, I digress.

Here’s my list:

Non- Interactive

Carrots: Okay, you can dip them in ranch dressing. Big deal. Shred them, crinkle cut them (like Ruffles?) Hello. Not interactive.

Celery: Alright, celery CAN be interactive if you add peanut butter so you can “chunnel” it out with your tongue. Aside from that…it exists solely to put the crunch in the tuna. Meh.

Tomatoes: Chop them. Dice them. Roast them. Ketchup them. So what?

Brussels Sprouts:  Are these really from Brussels? Is this the only reason I should ever plan to VISIT Brussels? Do you leaf them, like little heads of cabbage? Not so much.

Lima Beans:  No comment.

Broccoli: Baby trees. Really? Am I supposed to “rawr” like a dinosaur? Sorry gang. Not interactive.

Peas:  I will not give peas a chance.

Chicory:  (I just like the word; I’ve never eaten it, except in coffee).

Wax Beans:

Hummus: Unless you dip pita chips.

Fish: I’ll concede that picking out those teeny bones *can* be extremely interactive…but not in a fun way.

Chicken: Nugget-shaped? Okay! Chicken-shaped? NOT interactive.

Edamame: Fair enough. In all fairness, this is a pretty interactive food. Actually, it can be challenging to extract those little beans from the pod. Chalk one up for an interactive healthy food.

Okay, so why does any of this even MATTER? Well, it’s important for me to understand my relationship with food because, clearly, in my “before life” my relationship with food was quite unhealthy. I’m sure this was due, at least in some part, to my affinity for interactivity!

Interactivity = Fun
Interactive Food = Fun Food
I like fun, so I really liked fun food
Bad math

To me, eating was an EVENT! An ADVENTURE! A DESTINATION! Kinda like the theme of this year’s “County Fair” in Orange County: LET’S EAT! (I wish I were kidding…)

Fortunately, this isn’t really the case any more, which doesn’t mean that I don’t (or can’t) ENJOY what I eat, because I can (and do). I’ve simply learned to be mindful about how I choose to “interact” with food. In the case of Protein Shakes, it happens to be a super healthy interaction! Believe me, I am a mad scientist with a magic bullet…healthy food simply does NOT get anymore interactive than this.

I guess the point of today’s posting is this: It’s important to examine our relationships with food to ensure that our INTERACTIONS are healthy ones. If they aren’t, then perhaps it’s time to take a step back and reevaluate. If it’s a deal-breaker NOT to have fun, then find healthy ways to make it happen. For those of you at home in the kitchen (and around food processors and Jack Lalanne Juicers…and sharp objects), this does NOT have to be as challenging as you would think. There are LOTS of great ways to create healthy interactive food. In my case, I’ve chosen to do it as simply as possible (something which doesn’t work for everyone, but that is why we must all find what works for our lifestyle.)

Go ahead: ASK me about my 1/2 a quiche from Trader Joe’s: Salsa + Greek Yogurt + Black Olives = Interactive!
Cottage cheese: Chipotle salsa + pumpkin seeds + calamata olives = Interactive!

Can you say: ADVENTURE?
Can you say: DAILY INTERACTION?

Hey, I found healthy ways to interact with my food.
Now, it’s your turn. Why don’t you tell me how YOU do it

I want to branch out!