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Saturday, April 21, 2012

Last Bruhaha

I really thought I would avoid that "last meal" mentality.  It was discussed both in my education manual and in one of my sessions with LCSW.  But without really thinking of it until after the fact, I'm pretty sure last night I did just that. 

CME and I had date night after dropping off the boys at their Boy Scout Camporee.  We decided to have dinner at Cheeseburger in Paradise - somewhere we don't go often at all.  CME ordered an appetizer of Frickles that we shared.  I ordered my favorite meal: blackened fish sandwich (didn't eat the bun) and teriyaki broccoli.  Not a bad choice, necessarily, but I'm sure the aioli sauce that I dipped my fish in was loaded with fat and calories.  The food choices weren't "over the top" in some ways, however, the two (yes two) piña coladas were!  (sigh)

I rarely drink alcohol.  I'm struggling to remember the last time I even had a glass of wine.  I think it was last summer on vacation with family.  I think.  So for me to down two  piña coladas was not just over the top - but through the roof!  I'm not going to lie.  The food and the drinks were really good.  At the time, I enjoyed it.  The taste, the flavors - delish!  Spending time with CME, unrushed and uninterrupted, was nice.  Date night itself was good.

But you know what?  By the drive home I. was. miserable.  Miserable, I tell you!  Though I didn't eat the bun of the sandwich, I still ate everything else on my plate (plus some frickles!).  I had consumed such a massive quantity of food/drink that I truly felt as if I was going to vomit.  It wasn't in my head.  It wasn't that I felt guilt for eating so much.  My body physically hurt.  Not nauseated because of bad food, but so full that I really believed that if I burped there would be food with it.  Not only was my stomach full, but it felt as if  there was a backup all the way up into my throat...just waiting for a way to move.  Up or down, one way it had to go somewhere.  It was horrible!  CME was feeling the same.  He noted that its a result of both of our stomachs getting use to smaller portions.  I noted that I don't want to feel that way again!

I'm not feeling guilt this morning.  But I am feeling a bit frustrated.  Frustrated that I didn't listen to my body tell me, "Hey...I'm done.  I really don't have a way to take in any more food!"  And I'm concerned.  One of the main things I have to do after surgery is to listen to my body.  I'm instructed to stop eating before I feel the first sign of being full - even if I've not eaten the required amount. Or. I. will. vomit.  (Education manual says so!)  So how am I going to do that then if I can't do that now?  Yes, I've found something that's now concerning me more than getting burned out on the protein shakes and losing hair.  I'm concerned that I don't know how to listen to my body.  

I think subconsciously I needed last night to happen like it did.  I needed the wake up call that I'm still not exactly where I need to be even if up to this point I've done exactly what bariatric center has wanted me to do.  So my goal for the next 2.5 weeks leading up to surgery is to start being fully conscious of each bite.  Being fully aware of the way my stomach feels.  To truly stop eating when I stop feeling hungry.  To make my meals last 30 minutes so my brain can catch up with my stomach and know I'm done.  This thought keeps coming back to me - a thought that is in my education manual as well as what's been told to me by the staff at bariatric center.  "Surgery is just a tool.  You are still responsible for how this tool works for you."

Last night... last night was my last bruhaha!

"I praise you [God] because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well." ~Psalm 139:14

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