Summer, summer, summer

I can't believe summer is almost over!  I look back at the season and realize we have done a lot.  I staffed lots of events, took a trip to Montana, attended a couple weddings, I finished my Master's, saw Alan Jackson in concert, landscaped more of our backyard, hosted family from out of town, went fishing, ate smores at the annual Independence day potluck, did a 5k, took walks, and just enjoyed one another's company.  Still, I find myself wanting more summer! Time to go swimming, camping, a few more vacations, Rockie's games, etc.

What's your favorite thing to do in summer?  Like if you were going to recommend one "summer" thing to do, what would it be?

The drama of morbid obesity

Unless you have or are morbidly obese, I’m not sure you will understand the desparity of my situation. I started reading a book today, on the recommendation of my dietician, called Full: A Life without Dieting. My dietician had shared with me that the author of the book is a gentleman who specializes in performing gastric bypass and lap band. She also assured me his book actually suggested other resolves to obesity than bariatric surgery. Thanks to my Kindle, I know I am approximately 14% of the way through the book. I have cried through the first 10% of the book. Not even just slow tears falling down my face, but more like an inconsolable sobbing. It’s the kind of grief I have experienced only a couple of times in my life. The kind that literally causes my heart to feel pain, my body to feel ill, and my eyes to burn with dryness. Naturally, I don’t expect that any other person would have this gut reaction to reading a non-fiction book on dieting.


One of the points in the book is a question that this doctor asks his bariatric surgery patients. He asks them when they first realized they had a weight issue. I thought about this question. I realized that I nearly hate the once-upon-a-time friend’s mother who asked me, “Nacole, you look like you have lost weight, what have you been doing?” Did I mention I was six years old? I can even tell you where I was standing. It was a house near our high school in my home town, the house sat just kitty corner from the school and was always covered in ivy. We were standing in the kitchen, near the window that faced the street. At six years old, I even had a response! I remember telling her I cut back on snacks. I wish I were making this story up, oh how I ache to wish that were all a made up story.

Instead, here I sit. Nearly 20 years later. Morbidly obese. Why? Well, to be honest, I’m not really sure. The first quip that pops into my head is that I have failed at dieting for, ahh, 20 years. Of course I understand that weight loss is calories in and calories out, how many calories are in a pound, the benefits of physical activity, the importance of portion control, a diet that is balanced with proteins, carbohydrates, fat, etc. I know the book and science answer to some extent. What I don’t know is why I’m not strong enough to make it work. Why I can’t continue to make the choices and decisions I know I desperately need to make. I have said for quite some time that it doesn’t really matter what diet plan you follow, as long as you follow it. Yet, here I sit. Here I sit after bawling my eyes out because I can’t follow a diet plan. I can’t follow a plan that could potentially save my life, reduce my risk of cancer, reduce my risk for heart disease, and keep me to the best of my ability out of an early grave. I’m sad, I’m burdened, I’m exhausted. This book pointed out a statistic that I have read numerous times before. The book states, “You see, if you are morbidly obese – on average, about 100 pounds or more over-weight – you are at a distinct disadvantage. There is less than a 5 percent chance that you can lose weight and keep it off. This has been proven by no less than the National Institutes of Health. So that is why my bariatric surgery practice exists. I want to give my patients a fighting chance.”

I’ll be very honest, I’ve been very critical of bariatric surgery. Very critical. I’ve seen more people go through it and come out with minimal success than I’d care to share. I have a co-worker who has lost over 100 lbs on it. I have two family members who have lost some amount of weight, although certainly not enough in my mind to justify the over $20,000 it costs. I also don’t think it’s flattering the way the weight comes off. People seem to lose it in odd places. See, told you I was critical. So, here I sit. Frustrated with my efforts, not sure where to dig down deep and find strength. I know my body is a temple. I know I deserve the best. I know this. What I don’t know is why these things don’t all connect and stop me from taking another bite of my delicious dinner, even after I’m full. Why it doesn’t stop me from eating out of boredom. Why I’m seemingly unable to pick a plan and just stick to it. Why, why, why? For tonight, I’m out of answers. I’m stuck and I don’t know where to go from here. In case you are vaguely curious, bariatric surgery is not covered by my insurance and if I had $20,000 I have other places I would spend it. I’m not really considering this option, just happened to be a focal point of the book I am reading, a suggestion a doctor gave me, and this lingering concept in the back of my head that I have long dismissed. The real point is the stupid stat on 5% of the morbidly obese population being unable to lose weight and keep it off. Sure, I’d like to think I fall into that driven 5% of people, but don’t we all think that on some level? Couldn’t I just be another one of the more likely 95% of people who can’t, don’t, won’t, etc.? Obviously, I don’t have answers to these questions. I just needed to vent, put everything down into words, so I could try and get some sleep. I’m desperate for a healthier life and somehow in my world, the dots are not connecting…