As a part of our new, shiny, soon-to-be-thrown-under-the-bus schedule, Thursdays are where I pick a previously published bit of fluffy goodness, past its expiration date, but still lovely and tasty, and put it out there again for public consumption.
And since the readership of the Whistler’s Wonderings is not a stagnant number, but constantly has folks flowing in and out of our core readership, all 3.78 of ’em, I thought it might be good to go back to the major event that kind of kicked us into the journey I’m on today.
So, we set the Wayback Machine to April, 2010, not all that long after my surgery on March 30th. Let’s roll that beautiful bean footage, shall we?
Vicki was excited when I said I thought I was going to go and do some writing today. I know she’d never pressure me, but she wants to make sure I make note of the steps we’re taking in this journey, so that we don’t forget just where from and how far we have come.
Yeah – I know. It’s been a long, l-o-n-g time since I wrote. September of ‘09, according to the posts on TW’sW. A lot has happened since then, but I seem to have forgotten that writing is the thing I must do – it’s how I process my thoughts and feelings, it’s where I place the Stones to remind me of the path and to help me keep sight of God when I lose faith, and it’s the place where Vicki can see what’s going on in my brain without being overwhelmed.
(Vicki will often make my eyes glaze over with details of what she does at work – the type of digital sorcery she engages in makes no sense to me whatsoever. I sometimes forget that I often do the same thing to her… late at night… in bed… when she’s trying to settle in and rest, and I’m chatting for all I’m worth as everything I’ve thought about all day suddenly tries to jump ship at the same time. If I write, those ideas get out there when she can actually see them, take her time reading them, and not feel like I just ambushed her with a fire hose…)
So, it’ll take a while, but I’ll catch you up with where we are. Then we’ll talk about it. Saddle up, buttercup…
Last fall, almost a year out from my most recent medical weight loss program, my doctor and I began to discuss the possibility of bariatric surgery. I’ve considered it over the years, even went so far as to pursue it a couple of times only to be turned down by two different insurance companies. And frankly, I’ve always been a little scared of it.
It seems like everyone you talk to knows someone who has had “the surgery,” and you’ll hear tales that range from, “oh, they’re doing GREAT!” to “well, they did lose some weight, but now they’re bigger than they were before!” It’s all too easy to take that huge step, make some good progress, and end up worse than you were to start with because you’ve regained everything and stretched your stomach to a dangerous size. And that’s what scared me – I know me, sort of, and at the end of the day I seriously doubted I could make the kind of lasting change that would make surgery a safe and successful option for me.
But that changed…
it was in October that Dr. Turke (my doc at Weigh to Wellness) and I realized something – I was almost a year out from my medical fast in January of ‘09, and I was still at the weight I was when I finished. Actually, I had managed to lose a few more pounds since May of ‘09. And I hadn’t been doing anything to really make it that way. We looked over my history, and discovered something pretty significant: I don’t lose well, but I maintain beautifully.
It’s pretty much the opposite of most people. When I settle at a new weight, I tend to stick there, instead of ballooning back up the moment I get off of a “program.” I tend to land at the new place, and stay there instead of running back up to where I was.
That’s a biggie.
Now, back when I first went through a medical fast, I got all the way down to 366 – over 100 lbs off. And I regained back to over 460. That doesn’t sound like I stick very well, does it? So I thought…
Until Vicki reminded me that one little tiny thing happened in the middle there – losing my job of almost 20 years and becoming unemployed. And that was a very dark time – my heart was so wrapped up in that job and what I was a part of that it was a long time before I could even think straight. My heart went to stone, my joy was down the biffy, and worship became cold and stale.
Since then, I’ve learned some significant stuff. No job will ever have my heart again – it belongs to God alone. Work gets my allegiance, my best efforts, my full concentration and ability, but not my heart. So when my job at CBH ministries ended in October, I left and my heart stayed with me.
Have I recovered fully from January, 2006? Yes and no. I know enough now to keep myself and my work separate. But the wounds to my heart and my relationship with God? Still working on it. Making some progress, but working on it.
So, our original observation still stands: when I lose weight, I tend to stick there. It’s hard for me to get it off, but good when it’s gone. Knowing that, I started to explore the surgery one more time.
Little did I know that God was WAY ahead of me, as He always is…
-to be continued-