I weighed in yesterday at the doctor and found out that I am 13.4 pounds and 3 BMI points down!!! Woohoo! This makes the shakes seem less horrible. I mean I still want to eat food, but results make the whole thing easier.
I was there for another class. Basically it told me how to eat before and after the surgery. However, I can't eat before (I'm doing the shakes) so half the class was a waste. We did learn to read nutrition labels and I learned about what ratios are healthy in foods and meals. I took a picture of this plate that "helps" you remember how to eat. Enjoy that!
When I start thinking about food, lately chicken, I make myself think about something else. I don't allow myself to think about it for too long. I remind myself why I'm doing this and move on. However, due to this control, food is now the number one topic in my dreams. Weird. Dreams really are what you really want. Here's a glimpse into my crazy mind:
I'm still on my liquid diet, but decide I've been good and deserve some chicken! I park my car and walk to a Little Tykes car and get in. (In my dream this makes total sense and no one questions it.) I pull around the Raising Cane's building in my little car, and stare at the menu for a few minutes. I decide I will get the kids meal because it has less food, calories, etc. It comes with one piece of chicken, some fries, and bread. I opt for no soda like I always do. When I pull up to the window, the girl hands me my order and I am standing on top of the little car now. I can smell the delicious food and almost taste the chicken. I open the box and inhale the warm steam and smell. I start to salivate thinking about how good the chicken and sauce will be. Then a friend walks up to me and asks how I am. They're not confrontational, just curious how my diet is going. Then she notices my chicken, pulls me roughly by the arm out of the lane and asks me why I have chicken in my hands. I start to think of a lie and then remember that really I'm only lying to myself because the calories will still be there. I hand her the box an began to cry. Not your sniffling sad cry; an all out wail of a cry. I'm a snotty, teary, slobbering mess. I crumple to the ground an continue to cry even though two kids have shown up on bikes to order their food.
I woke up in an even bigger-than-usual puddle of drool and I'm crying. I think I might have a slight addiction to food. Or at least thinking about food. I used to plan the next meal right after I finish the first. Like, I would think about dinner after finishing lunch. Who does that?! It's not necessarily the chewing, the temperature, or any other food component. It's the idea and taste of the food that draws me in. It's also the memories foo evokes in me. When I eat, I am usually with someone. We are sharing a meal an consequently our lives with each other. My addiction to food has a lot to do with my love of my friends and family. When you get together, what do you do? Eat. Also that whole clean-your-plate-there-are-starving-kids-in-Africa thing we were all told as children. Now I don't blame my parents, but I do strive to make a "happy" plate and can't bring myself to waste food (especially if I've paid for it). It's my downfall. One I will overcome.
I have 7 more days until the surgery and will make it!! I'm not going to lie, I wanted a glass of wine tonight after my day, but this is more important than that. I hope you enjoyed this little glimpse into my world!
And that's life...