What's on the Inside?
For those few and far between people who actually read this blog, you may have noticed I am slowing down on my initial spurt and outpouring of psychological literary sticking plasters. This is not because I am getting bored with the process of scribing my thoughts down or that I am filling my time with more fulfilling activities. It is simply because I seem to be getting used to this whole new world of eating to live and not living to eat. The “new experiences” are now relatively few and far between. I don’t want to re-cover old ground and I don’t intend to write much about that which bears no relevance on my new lap band lifestyle. That said, I love the new album by The Leisure Society!
Having recently had another band fill, I found that the re-education process of controlling intake is something that is, paradoxically, a constant variable. However (even in the knowledge that this is something I will take some time to get used to in its entirety with the varying changes) finding out about ten days ago that I was able to eat as much as most people at the table could, did fill me with fear and dread. Of course, my assumptions were that of a paranoid and over-sensitive fool: Had my band fallen off? Had my stomach stretched and negated the effects of the surgery? Had my internal organs rewired themselves because they missed KFC that much?
1.5ml of saline reminded me that I was indeed being an idiot.
I was made aware by my surgeon that fat people don’t just hold fat on their bellies, chins and thighs. Organs that sit delicately inside you are also subject to becoming individually overweight. The suggestion was that as I had lost so much weight so quickly, the area that the band was wrapped around on my stomach had lost a layer of fat also - hence increasing the dilation and reducing the band’s effectiveness. This theory seems to also be confirmed by the display of plastinisation by that weird fedora-donned German doctor. His demonstration of the differences between the internal organs of an ex-healthy person and a not-so-healthy-mainly-because-they-are-dead fat chap show huge variations in size and lardy colours of their internal organs. I never knew I had fat behind the fat. This would also explain why people were surprised whenever I told them how much I weighed - a lot of my butter was out of sight.
It was strangely comforting to be told that I was losing weight from my internal organs (fingers crossed it doesn’t have any such effect on external ones!). It is plain to see the outer weight loss, but knowing your heart is probably operating under less suffocating conditions is somehow more of an achievement to me than another notch down on my trouser belt.
Being saline-squeezed once more has led to a number of slightly embarrassing and uncomfortable blockages as I once again get used to the restriction and what I can and can’t eat. How many chews on a morsel of food I make is once again on my mind - as an extra five mastications can make the difference between normal polite conversation over a meal and an hour of painful regurgitation of very little food and even less polite conversation. It’s a learning process that I imagine I will go through several times across my way to normal as my internal and external flab dissipate and my visible and invisible belts both need adjustment from time to time.
Originally posted at: Lap Band Blog
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