I messed up NaBloPoMo, the month of nonstop blogging. I went to bed and remembered that I hadn’t posted just as my eye closed. I was too tired to get up and find something witty to say and went to sleep. The days that followed were busy (what day isn’t?!) and I couldn’t find a way to get back on the wagon.
See, I fall off the wagon a lot. It took me 5+ real good attempts to quit smoking before I kicked the habit. Still, when I smell a good cigarette I crave it like mad (some seem to smell like monkey ass, or what I would assume a monkey’s ass would smell like because I, myself, have most definitely NOT smelled a monkey’s ass before). My grandpa quit when I was a kid after I tried to beat him to his chair (it was really my grandma’s recliner – a present thing) and his ashes burned holes in the fabric. He says he still craves them every once in a while.
I’ve fallen off the diet/lifestyle change wagon more times than I can count. Hit a plateau, throw my hands up in the air and say “screw it” while eating an entire bag of M&M’s. I haven’t really fallen off the wagon in these past 6 months. I have really settled it in my head that I am going to do this damn lifestyle change and get ready to live life now eating as if I had already had gastric bypass surgery – but with bigger portions, cos, dude, I can’t live on 3 tablespoons of food per meal.
Monday I finally finished my psych evaluations. She wanted to see me one more time to make sure I was able to kick any residual snacking habits. She seems pretty comfortable with her findings but warned me that they (the hospital doing the surgery & my insurance aka the man) might want me to start therapy once again.
Part of me really would like to go to therapy to work out some shit in my head. The other side, the stubborn bitch who has kept me on track these past 6 months, is kinda insulted that they think I can’t be both depressed and not turn to food. My depression is well under control with medication right now and the feeling I got from the nurses at the hospital where I will have surgery was that they were cool with this.
Only time can tell, I suppose. I seem to have all of my ducks in a row – although getting other people to do the same isn’t that easy. My doctor’s nurse still has not faxed down some vital information that I have asked her several times to do. I am hoping that by the end of the week I’ll be receiving a phone call from the hospital wanting to set up the last of my appointments before I have surgery.
This is finally happening. Oddly, I am getting nervous. Excited and scared.
I know that you can fall off the wagon after having gastric bypass surgery and gain back all of the weight. Thing is, that bitchy stubborn side of me won’t let that happen. I am determined to do this.
Now if only I could find the determination to finish some knitting projects I’ve begun. MITTENS!! I am going to knit mittens until I can knit mittens no more. I figure that someone will always need a pair of those dang things. I am trying to weed through several pretty good (and easy) patterns on Ravelry. I need a pattern that can be worn on either hand. Hell if I am going to be searching for lefts and rights with 5 kids.
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