triggers

One of the things I battled with at HeartQuest in January was my weight. Well, not my WEIGHT, per se, but the emotional baggage and bondage that contributed to it. I didn't really deal with it there, but for the first time, I confronted that it was an emotional/spiritual/psychological thing (and not just my love of food, or my thyroid disease, or heredity - all of which are contributing factors, sure, but are not the root of the problem). Near the end of the week, standing in the kitchen crying with a couple of the retreat leaders, I committed to dealing with it when I got home. 

Flash forward to February. When Darren moved out, my friend Karen said, "You've always wanted to get surgery. Now's the time. It doesn't matter that Darren doesn't approve. It matters that you take care of yourself. And you need to do it while you still have his insurance." She made me promise to at least call and look into it. I promised. 

When I pulled up to my office the next Monday, there was a new billboard going up right outside our doors featuring "Dr. David Kim: Get Your Life Back" and a picture of Nate Newton holding a pair of humongo jeans with the caption, "I lost 175 pounds with gastric sleeve!" This was cool for two reasons: 1) I'd just promised Karen I'd make the call and there was the number right in front of me, and 2) I knew of Dr. Kim because another friend had used him for her gall bladder surgery and spoke very highly of him and his office staff. Two signs. On a sign. ;-)

So I called. At the consultation appointment, Dr. Kim asked me why I was so hesitant to commit to the surgery. I told him that my husband very much disapproved because of the risks involved, and that I wanted to be cautious and not make an emotional decision. He said, "Let's talk about the risks if you DON'T get this weight off. Heart disease. Hypertension. Arthritis. Your knees could blow out. You'll develop diabetes. Feet problems. Higher risk of cancer. Stroke. Heart Attack. Death." Ah, yes. Perspective! 

I still didn't commit to the surgery that day, but I did start nutrition counseling, and that has been amazing.

I've learned to recognize and identify my triggers - the things that make me need to stuff down and fill up. Most of my bad eating habits were learned in childhood. My unhealthy coping mechanisms were picked up then, too. A specific incidence in high school (a date rape) really sealed the deal: I made a subconscious decision to make myself unattractive so it would never happen again, and began stuffing more than ever. None of those triggers were surprises to me; I identified them immediately. But it broke my heart to realize that Darren, too, has always been a trigger. Coming to terms with that was difficult.  I never would've realized it before, and certainly never would have admitted that he would be that for me, or that I would allow him to be. With a word, or more often without a word, he could belittle me, offend me, crush me, and make me feel inferior and unworthy.

I've learned that those feelings of unworthiness are key. My sometime-need to disappear and not feel what I'm feeling leads to stuffing. I've learned to recognize that trigger and the lies that activate it, and just keep reminding myself that I AM DEFINED BY GOD, and no one else. I've forced myself to move through those feelings and feel them instead of stuffing them down. Last month, I was shocked to realize that I am one of my own worst enemies in this battle. I'm a perfectionist and hold myself to very high standards in my work and in most areas of my life. As an example: a few weeks ago, I received a large bonus at work. The board initiated it and I gratefully accepted it. Then, the next week, I got two declinations for grants I'd written. I suddenly felt unworthy of the bonus. I felt like a fraud. I felt like I'd let the whole board and organization down. I literally felt sick about it. So I went through a drive-through and ordered lunch. After ordering, I panicked - panicked!-  that one meal wouldn't fill me up, so I ordered a SECOND MEAL. As I did it, I recognized that I'd triggered my own dumb self. I paid for both meals, but dumped the second one in the trash can as I drove away. VICTORY! The next day, I got a $25,000 YES for a grant I'd written. God is so cool. :) (I'm still exploring where that panicky feeling comes from, and why. This isn't the first time I've felt that.)

I have a long way to go with this mental/spiritual battle, but I'll continue the counseling and will get it all figured out. In the meantime...

I decided to do the surgery. It's been a three-month process to get ready - so many insurance hoops to jump through to get approved! I gave up carbonation cold turkey in February. I started walking daily (and developed plantar fasciitis, so I bought good shoes. ;) I've had a stress test, an EKG, a sleep study, a chest x-ray, a millions viles of blood drawn, an EGD (esophagogastroduodenoscopy. google that!) and a psychological evaluation, all to determine what my internist has been telling me for a couple of years: I'm the healthiest obese person on earth. Before they'd administer the anesthesia for the EGD, they made me take a pregnancy test. I told them I knew I wasn't pregnant. How do you know? asked the doctor. I thought about telling him that I can't even remember the last time my husband told me he loved me, much less the last time we had sex. Then I came to my senses and just said, "I had my tubes tied ten years ago." He said, "Ok, I guess if you haven't gotten pregnant in ten years, it probably worked. You still have to pee in the cup, though.) I'm happy to report that I am officially not with child. ;)

There was a moment of worry two weeks ago when one nurse said I might have trouble getting approved since I don't have a single medical problem attributed to the weight. But when I asked another nurse, she looked at my chart and said, "Oh honey. When they see how high your BMI is, they'll approve you instantly." <insert embarrassed smiley here>

I started the required two-week pre-surgery liquid diet last Tuesday and have already lost 10 pounds! Surgery is one week from today: Tuesday, June 26th, two days after my 43rd birthday. I'm doing Gastric Sleeve, which is the removal of 90% of my stomach, leaving a stomach the size and shape of a banana, or a "sleeve". It's not reversible. I'll have three more weeks of liquid diet post-surgery, then two weeks of pureed diet, then real food again. Except, differently than I've ever eaten before.

The surgery isn't a fix-all, and I know that. It's a turbo-boost to getting healthy again. I can do this. I know how to. I haven't always been obese. I was denied health and life insurance recently unless I fork over the money for high risk, which I simply can't afford to do. Life insurance alone for someone my age, weight and height runs $200/month. No way I can add that into my budget. If I can get my weight down and keep it down for two years, I won't be high risk anymore. Besides all that, I'm ready to get my life back. I want to bike the Trinity Trails with the kids. I want to climb mountains, or at least tackle Enchanted Rock. I want to approach an airplane seat without spying the panicked look on the faces of passengers hoping I'm not assigned next to them. I want to cross things off my lifelong To-Do list that I've had to postpone, such as skydiving and flying in a two-seater airplane and horseback riding in the Rockies. I want to sit in a theater seat without my thighs being pinched in half. I want to not embarrass my boys as they get older and start noticing that their Mom is gross. I want to feel as good in my skin as I feel in my heart and soul and mind. I want my life back. 

And it *IS* nice that I get to use Darren's insurance, which pays 90% of the cost, while I still can. ;)