Today marks week 1 Banded. This time last week I was going down for the count, so to speak, and being wheeled in for the surgery.

I would like to say it's been a great week and I've not had any problems, but since I was back to work on MONDAY that would be a lie. I've been worn out, no energy by the time I get home and sleep through most of the evening, so walking has been at a minimum other than around my office and house, BUT I think the not walking was more because of all of the soreness, which I had in abundance - there was a good bit of scar tissue to go through from some previous surgeries, so....

Anyway, no more whining.

The bloating is finally starting to dissipate - the gas is finally going away. YAY!

I have managed to have only one "cheat" through this whole week. Well, sort of. I was craving something meaty to chew. It was driving me crazy. So (DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME, KIDS) I chopped up a Slim Jim and chewed each piece just enough to get the flavor out of it, then discarded it instead of swallowing. IT WAS AWESOME. OK. I know that was bad, but it made the craving go away, and I was much better after.

Here are some things I learned this week.

I absolutely hate watermelon jello. But I like strawberry. I'll be glad when jello is not the big item on my food list.

Canned chicken broth makes me queasy. Bouillon cubes are ok but not much better.

Wonton soup broth tastes like I think dirty dishwater would taste.

A bowl of strained hot & sour soup is the most awesome thing on the planet right now. I have always said that hot & sour soup was the nectar of the gods - the cureall for what ails you. It even cured my craving for chewing beef, strangely enough. I think it was the salt. Who knows.

The BIG NEGATIVE I learned about myself. I am a Nibbler. Not like, at my desk, 24/7 sort of thing. Even worse. I'm a Cooking Nibbler.

I haven't been in the kitchen much this week, but I did cook one evening, and made cornbread. Once it was out of the oven and had cooled enough to handle, I sliced it and buttered every slice, as I always do, so the butter melts instead of just sitting there.

So... the next thing I know my brain is on high alert. I hear Nuclear Meltdown sirens blaring in my head. My brain and my body are having a conversation something like this:

Brain: Was that cornbread?

Mouth: Yep, and it was goooooooooood.

Brain: No. Bad. Very bad. Sips not chewing! What did she just do to us!?

Mouth: Shut up. It was good. And Teeth chewed it really, really small. Really.

Brain: You imbecile. Stomach is in recovery! She can't handle cornbread! We're doomed! What if she sends it back?

Mouth: I'm not taking it back. She'd better hold on to it.

Brain: Stomach! Stomach! Red alert. Cornbread coming your way!

Stomach: MMMMMmmm CORNBREAD.

Brain: I am surrounded by morons.

Anyway, I didn't even realize I had put the small crumb into my mouth, until I actually swallowed it, and then I was in panic mode. I have managed not to throw up, or anything, and I really didn't want to start now.

Soo... now I'm putting together a jar of "goods" to keep on the counter while I'm cooking that I can stick in my mouth that will deter me from "tasting" and "nibbling".

I realize that later, it won't be such a bad thing about swallowing the cornbread... but just imagine how many calories I've ingested unwittingly, sabotaging myself, all for a nibble.