The Little Milestones Along The Way

Today I'm about 6 lbs from a major weight loss moment. When I have shed these next 6 lbs, I'll be able to say that I've lost 100. That's huge...both literally and figuratively. But, I haven't written in the past three weeks because, as I've approached this milestone, I kept thinking...maybe I should just wait until I hit that big number. Then I'll have something really important to say. But honestly, I'm starting to realize that in waiting for that "big number," I'm missing lots of significant small numbers along the way.

For example: 8...the number of hours I've spent line dancing in the last 4 days; 6...the number of dress sizes I've gone down since I had my surgery; 3...the number of flights of stairs I climbed last weekend as I proceeded to my seat in the Cort Theater in the Broadway District in NYC; 2...the number of hours I spent walking and looking at vendors in Time Square, completely pain free; or 0...the number of times I had to stop to catch my breath.

When I consider these little milestones on my journey, I realize how insignificant that "big number" truly is. This adventure is all about creating a space for myself in the world. For so long, though I didn't know it, my life was about using food to cope and survive. And in the process, I never tasted anything. Now I'm pausing to learn more, to love more, and to appreciate every step and detour that I make. So I say, hooray for the number 8, the number 6, the number 3, the number 2, and for 0 because...

8+6+3+2+0 = A Woman Who Is Choosing To Live!

Everything Begins With a Decision

I suppose this is something I've always known. That the ability to complete any task, be it great or small, begins with a decision. To select paper or plastic bags at the grocery store. To be the class clown or the scholar. To take the stairs instead of the elevator. To let a person know that they've hurt you instead of internalizing the pain. To tell someone that you love them as opposed to hiding your emotions for fear of rejection. To give or to take.

If I actually counted, I'm confident that I make hundreds of decisions each day. We all do. We decide what to wear. The best route to the office. How to handle workplace challenges. What to eat for lunch. The list goes on and on. And while I cannot always predict the outcome of the choices I make, most of the time I know when I'm on the right path. As I continue on my journey to a physically healthier Ange, I find myself wondering why it took me so long to decide that I was worth it. That I deserved to live a life filled with all of the richness that this world has to offer.

Though it seems so simple now, it wasn't simple then. I was so overwhelmed by what I needed to do to get healthy that I was literally paralyzed. In my mind, the odds were so stacked against me that I could not do the very thing that we all do hundreds of times each day...make a decision. What I can see today that I could not see 15 weeks ago is that just like the simple tasks that we do each day, like getting dressed and combing our hair, the difficult tasks are equally achievable if we have the right tools. Imagine, brushing your teeth without a toothbrush. Ridiculous. So no matter what your challenge may be, don't be the Ange that I used to be. Don't wait another day to make the decision to obtain the tools you need to thrive.

In other words...what I'm actually saying is...stop existing, and choose to live.

I Can See Clearly Now

In the beginning, I had a bit of buyer's remorese regarding my surgery. And no, I'm not scared to admit it. I had never had any type of surgery before (other than getting my wisdom teeth out) and I just really did not know what to expect pain wise. And then, two weeks after my surgery, just when I thought things were getting better, I had a horrible experience with some tuna:-). But now, here I am. Blood pressure under control and lower back pain gone.

I think when you're obese, but not completely immobile, you fool yourself into believing that your weight isn't "that bad." I mean, I still get up and go to work everyday, I can still take care of my personal hygiene, I don't have diabetes, and, in my case, I even went to water aerobics and line dancing classes once a week. But none of that changed the reality that my weight was ballooning out of control and killing me, slowly. For someone who exercises logic on a daily basis, my behavior and the situation I had created for myself made no sense. Just think about that for a moment...I may be obese and have a wide range of health and personal issues as a result of it, but at least I'm not diabetic. Does that even make sense? Of course not, but, the thing is, with an addiction, it never does. That's right. I said it. Addiction. That's what it is, plain and simple.

So now, just over three months later, here's what I know. (Don't worry, I'm not going to say anything corny like..."Now I eat to live instead of living to eat"). I know that I didn't get to be morbidly obese just because I like food. I was using food to deal with a whole range of emotions. Stress, anger, heartache...you name it. I also now know that the tool is stopping me from eating mindlessly or unconsciously. I was actually sitting at my desk at work last week and was working on a very challenging case. I got to a point where I didn't know what to do, and found myself starting to think, "I'm '''hungry'''." Then, because of this nice small pouch and rerouting of intestines situation I have, and how cautious I've learned to be about putting anything in my body, I realized, I'm not actually hungry. I'm responding to the stress of this difficult issue. That was an amazing breakthrough. Sure, the fact that I can wear smaller clothes and fit into chairs more comfortably is wonderful, but it's nothing compared to the awakening I had in my office last week.

I'm thankful for this opportunity. For ankles that don't swell. For being able to walk long distances without my back hurting. For seatbelts that buckle without contorted body movements. For the love of family and friends. And for the knowledge that because of this surgery, I am slowly rejoining the true land of the living.

Choose to Live

Last Supper Syndrome and Terror on the Zip Line

In January 2010, about one month before I was scheduled to have my surgery, I boarded the "Oasis of the Seas" bound for St. Thomas, St. Maarten, and the Bahamas. I was so excited. The shopping, island tours, exotic scenery, and of course, the FOOD. It had easily been 20 years, and more than 200 lbs, since I had last been on a cruise. Forget the sugar plums, I had visions of midnight buffets, virgin Pina Coladas, singing waiters, and three course meals in the formal dining room dancing in my head. When I think back to my vacation on the open sea, I'm reminded of what I did not do (well...let's be honest...what I COULD not do) and how much more fulfilling my experience would have been had my life not revolved around food.

Our stateroom had a view of the the boardwalk and each time I stood outside I saw people flying through the air on the zipline. Even with the door closed, I could hear the onlookers cheering for each person that zoomed by. Don't get me wrong, I knew well before we left that I would be able to do little more than watch the activity on the zipline. You see, the zip line had a weight limit and I was approximately 59 pounds away from that high-flying, free wheeling feeling. So, in true addict form, I convinced myself that I didn't want to do something as crazy as a zip line when I could go downstairs and eat chili cheese fries at the Johnny Rocket's.

Now, I can see those mind games for what they are. Before it was like I was in the midst of the battle for my life and had no idea that the ref had blown the whistle signaling that the game had begun. The cheese fries and fried shrimp were making baskets at the other end of the court and I was still on the sideline trying to stuff my swollen feet into my sneakers. Today, thanks to my RNY, I'm suited up and ready to play. It doesn't mean I won't get dunked on every now and then, but it does mean I can shake it off, keep playing, and celebrate lots of successes along the way because now, I'm officially IN THE GAME. By the way, now, just over three months since my surgery, and 70 pounds lighter, I am free and clear to use the zipline. So please trust that the next time I don't fly high it will be because I chose not to, not because I let my poor choices make the decision for me.

Choose to Live