Happy, Sad, and Mad

I wrote in my last blog post that I needed fairly extensive surgery, fairly soon.  Since I wrote that I have been wrapping my head around it and I have had a CT of my belly region.

I just received a call from the surgeon.  He had looked over the CT and wanted to get back to me.  I really like the guy.  The news was not good, not really.

He confirmed that the hernia is one big mess and that it will probably involve going through muscle and a long recovery: yippee.  I was expecting to hear that so I was not surprised.  Then came the stink bomb.

I have lost 80 pounds in the last three years.  I have changed the way I eat and the amount I eat a whole hell of a lot.  I exercise three to four times a week even if I feel like shit. And I stick to a diet of no meat besides fish and try my damndest not to eat gluten.  And I only drink one glass of wine a year: at Passover! (G-d commands it:)


I have to lose another 15 pounds to have this surgery.

I had already planned to take the summer off so I could do this and recover.  Besides, I will have a lot of people in the house and I thought this would help me in a lot of ways.  I was comfortable with the whole deal.  I had even told my boss that this was what I was doing.  Now, things have changed.

I feel smooshed.  I feel defeated.  What if I can’t do it?  How will I handle it if I have it in the fall and I am asked to teach a course at St. Ed’s which is what I am praying for?

This is not what I wanted.

Can I lose this weight really quickly?

I would be happy to starve my way to it.

I am generally not good at that nor do I think it is healthy but if means must, then maybe this is the time.

I know I should be happy that I am so close to a healthy BMI… (that is the issue).  I thought I would never be this close again.  My relationship to myself in terms of food has gotten so much better that I think I am just angry that it is somehow being questioned.

I have enjoyed just being my own boss and actually seeing changes that I have made all on my own.  I am afraid if I have to work on someone else’s program that I will do the thing I have always done: I will freak out and rebel and sabotage myself.

I pray that won’t be the case.  Maybe I can talk myself out it somehow.

No, I literally need to pray that is not the case.  I need to not take all of the responsibility for this on myself.  I need to share it.  I really can’t handle it on my own.

The old tapes, the ones in my head that are so old and so undesirable, still play when they are least welcome: “Katie, you’re just destined to be fat.  I mean look at you:  You suck.  Your mother warned you.  It’s your fault this is a problem in the first place.  If you had done everything right from the beginning after your surgery this wouldn’t be an issue.”

And yet I know what happened after the surgery is not my fault.  I was unconcious and almost dead for a month and then it took months to recover and then I had to get off of serious drugs.  Through all of that and through seven bouts of pneumonia and the flu and more, I still managed to reduce.

I did not really feel good about all of this until recently, during Covid,  when I started exercising religiously and keeping my diet laser focused.  Frankly, these things have helped.  I have lost another twenty five pounds in the last year and my body has just taken on a whole different shape.

I am proud of what I have achieved and I do not ever plan to go back where I was.  I am able to live a better life this way.

So, in the balance of things, fifteen measly pounds is no biggee. It is just that whole thing of having it imposed from outside and being put on a timeline not of my choosing. It is a mind game.  I suppose it is just like everything else.  It is something we want to control but we really can’t.  We know better and yet persist trying.  I am a capital offender when it comes to this.

So, after talking with others, which is the way I process information, I have come up with a plan:

  1. Be gentle and loving with myself.  I cannot take good care of me if I am angry at myself all the time.  I have to decide to model the care I would want to receive- on myself.
  2. I am going to ask for help even though I hate to.  I am contacting a dietician.  I have had a hard time with this in the past but I can do it again.  It cannot hurt to try.

I will let you know how it goes!

Viva los weightez…

(weak..I know)