Jean McMillan

Your bariatric report card doesn’t look so good? That might be good news: a wake-up call, with some opportunities for improvement. Back in the olden days, there was a space for teacher comments on the back of my report card. Here my teacher could write comments about areas in which I exceled or (more often) I needed to improve. Mine usually had to do with talking during class too much (except when I shut my mouth because I didn’t know the answer to a question). So, what opportunities for improvement await you this semester? Here’s an example from my own WLS journey. It was an offshoot of my New Year’s resolution, which was to log my food every day. After weeks of living that resolution, I was dissatisfied with its effect on my weight, and suddenly realized that although I’d been faithfully logging my food every day, I hadn't been paying much attention to the resulting nutritional data. In that instance, I had earned an A for effort and an F for achievement. That’s partly because I love keeping logs and journals. I can play with Excel documents 'til long after the cows come home, without any expectation of coming up with useful information. I analyze things just for the fun of analysis, so it’s far too easy for me to overlook the ways in which I might use all that stuff to improve my insight or change my behavior. So if I don’t pay attention to the data in my food log, I can’t evaluate the quality of my food intake. I’d been logging about 1400-1500 calories a day (a calorie goal that accounted for my exercise level and weight loss goal) without taking the time to notice some major inconsistencies in my macronutrients, especially protein. I need to pay attention to my protein intake not just because my body needs good-quality protein to repair the muscles I use during my daily workouts, but because low protein intake often represents maladaptive eating. Rather than slow down and eat carefully so that solid protein doesn’t cause me problems, I take the easy way out and eat the easy stuff, almost always in the form of carbs that don’t offer much satiety value, never mind nutritional value. When I was a clueless little kid, I had to rely on adults to tell me exactly how to improve my school grades, but I’m glad to report that I’m not a clueless little kid any more. I’m an occasionally clueless adult. If my realization about the quality of my food intake had never materialized, eventually I would have asked an expert, like my dietitian or doctor, for guidance. Armed with their suggestions, I would get back on the bandwagon and give that food log another honest try. And (fingers crossed) eventually earn an A for achievement!

Back in the olden days, there was a space for teacher comments on the back of my report card. Here my teacher could write comments about areas in which I exceled or (more often) I needed to improve. Mine usually had to do with talking during class too much (except when I shut my mouth because I didn’t know the answer to a question). So, what opportunities for improvement await you this semester? Here’s an example from my own WLS journey. It was an offshoot of my New Year’s resolution, which was to log my food every day. After weeks of living that resolution, I was dissatisfied with its effect on my weight, and suddenly realized that although I’d been faithfully logging my food every day, I hadn't been paying much attention to the resulting nutritional data. In that instance, I had earned an A for effort and an F for achievement. That’s partly because I love keeping logs and journals. I can play with Excel documents 'til long after the cows come home, without any expectation of coming up with useful information. I analyze things just for the fun of analysis, so it’s far too easy for me to overlook the ways in which I might use all that stuff to improve my insight or change my behavior. So if I don’t pay attention to the data in my food log, I can’t evaluate the quality of my food intake. I’d been logging about 1400-1500 calories a day (a calorie goal that accounted for my exercise level and weight loss goal) without taking the time to notice some major inconsistencies in my macronutrients, especially protein. I need to pay attention to my protein intake not just because my body needs good-quality protein to repair the muscles I use during my daily workouts, but because low protein intake often represents maladaptive eating. Rather than slow down and eat carefully so that solid protein doesn’t cause me problems, I take the easy way out and eat the easy stuff, almost always in the form of carbs that don’t offer much satiety value, never mind nutritional value. When I was a clueless little kid, I had to rely on adults to tell me exactly how to improve my school grades, but I’m glad to report that I’m not a clueless little kid any more. I’m an occasionally clueless adult. If my realization about the quality of my food intake had never materialized, eventually I would have asked an expert, like my dietitian or doctor, for guidance. Armed with their suggestions, I would get back on the bandwagon and give that food log another honest try. And (fingers crossed) eventually earn an A for achievement!

Well, you do get extra points for being honest about it!

I haven’t seen a report card for 35 years, but I clearly remember the looming importance of each semester’s report card. In elementary school, we were graded on effort as well as achievement. Tell us honestly: what’s your bariatric effort grade today? When thinking about your report card, please grade yourself for both achievement and effort. Anybody who thinks having weight loss surgery is "taking the easy way out" is sadly mistake. Of course it's easier than weight loss without surgery - that's the whole idea! But easier doesn't mean automatic, either. I’ve seen 2 different effort and achievement trends in fellow post-ops’ WLS journeys: Weight loss is relatively easy in the beginning, when you’re at your heaviest and also most gung-ho, but eventually it gets harder as you get smaller (and burn fewer calories), the novelty of your surgery wears off, and your underlying eating issues (like stress eating, emotional eating, etc.) aren’t addressed. For band patients, weight loss can be hard in the beginning, when you don’t yet have enough fill in your band, but eventually you and your band click and the weight loss gets easier. Both situations #1 & 2 require extra effort on your part sooner or later. Neither situation is better or worse, but your awareness and understanding of your situation can help you deal with it with less “poor me” and more “go me!” I’ll illustrate this with an example from the frivolous but always fascinating aspect of life: hair. I have straight, thin hair, and not a lot of it. I wish it were thicker, curlier, shinier, but it’s not. With the help of my hairdresser, I can make my hair look better, but agonizing about it does not do a single thing to make my hair curl. Similarly, I have an inborn intolerance for idleness and am easily bored, especially when it comes to food and exercise. I wish that weren’t so, but it is. With the help of my nutritionist, food magazines, and cookbooks, I manage to plan and prepare healthy, delicious, interesting meals. With the help of my fitness instructor, I manage to participate in a wide variety of fitness classes that are never boring. In the “go me!” department, I’m pleased to report that I’m so accustomed now to eating small meals off small plates, I don’t even think about it anymore, except when I’m dining out and my meal arrives on a dinner plate. That is quite an accomplishment for a girl who once ate a 5-pound lobster all by herself, and followed up with half a gallon of ice cream, spooned directly from the container into my mouth!

When thinking about your report card, please grade yourself for both achievement and effort. Anybody who thinks having weight loss surgery is "taking the easy way out" is sadly mistake. Of course it's easier than weight loss without surgery - that's the whole idea! But easier doesn't mean automatic, either. I’ve seen 2 different effort and achievement trends in fellow post-ops’ WLS journeys: Weight loss is relatively easy in the beginning, when you’re at your heaviest and also most gung-ho, but eventually it gets harder as you get smaller (and burn fewer calories), the novelty of your surgery wears off, and your underlying eating issues (like stress eating, emotional eating, etc.) aren’t addressed. For band patients, weight loss can be hard in the beginning, when you don’t yet have enough fill in your band, but eventually you and your band click and the weight loss gets easier. Both situations #1 & 2 require extra effort on your part sooner or later. Neither situation is better or worse, but your awareness and understanding of your situation can help you deal with it with less “poor me” and more “go me!” I’ll illustrate this with an example from the frivolous but always fascinating aspect of life: hair. I have straight, thin hair, and not a lot of it. I wish it were thicker, curlier, shinier, but it’s not. With the help of my hairdresser, I can make my hair look better, but agonizing about it does not do a single thing to make my hair curl. Similarly, I have an inborn intolerance for idleness and am easily bored, especially when it comes to food and exercise. I wish that weren’t so, but it is. With the help of my nutritionist, food magazines, and cookbooks, I manage to plan and prepare healthy, delicious, interesting meals. With the help of my fitness instructor, I manage to participate in a wide variety of fitness classes that are never boring. In the “go me!” department, I’m pleased to report that I’m so accustomed now to eating small meals off small plates, I don’t even think about it anymore, except when I’m dining out and my meal arrives on a dinner plate. That is quite an accomplishment for a girl who once ate a 5-pound lobster all by herself, and followed up with half a gallon of ice cream, spooned directly from the container into my mouth!

BACK TO SCHOOL - #1 Introduction September’s almost here, and it’s back to school season. Back to the basics, back to reading, writing, and arithmetic. Actually, any time is a good time for a bariatric refresher course. It’s easy to lose your focus and take a few too many side trips to the land of potato chips and chocolate while you trudge along the weight loss surgery trail. When post-ops ask how to get back on track, the most common response is a very sensible one: BACK TO BASICS. You’ll find this valuable advice in Finding Your Bariatric Brain Again, by 7 Bites_Jen http://www.bariatricpal.com/page/articles.html/_/support/post-op-support/finding-your-bariatric-brain-again-r231, and I’m going to address the topic in a series of three articles. Back to basics advice is covered in greater detail in two sections of Bandwagon: in the 21 rules for success (chapter 6) and the 15 eating skills (chapter 12). Although Bandwagon was originally written for adjustable gastric band patients, much of its material applies to every and anybody who’s had weight loss surgery. You don’t have a copy of Bandwagon? That’s easy enough to remedy. Click here to order your very own copy. http://jean-onthebandwagon.blogspot.com/ Back to the Basics: The 3 R’s While you’re waiting for your copy of Bandwagon to arrive, let’s talk about the 3 R’s: readin’, ‘riting, and ‘rithmetic. What are the 3 R’s of weight loss success? 1. R is for Reading – learn to read your body’s signals about hunger, satiety, and appetite. 2. R is for Writing – keep a food and exercise log. Studies show that people who keep a food log lose more weight than those who don’t. 3. R is for Arithmetic – weight loss, as hard as it can be to achieve, involves very basic arithmetic. As long as you burn more calories than you consume, you will lose weight. This doesn’t mean that you have to count calories to lose weight, or count calories for the rest of your life, but if you’re struggling and not sure why, try calorie counting for at least one week. Free online tracking programs and food log programs like the ones available at sparkpeople.com and livestrong.com) make it easy to log your food intake and calculate your calories. And by the way, calorie counting is most accurate when you’re weighing and measuring your food. Yes, more arithmetic!

Do you need a bariatric back to school plan? The bariatric surgery school includes schoolbooks, notebooks, pencils, crayons and the advice described in my Back to School series of articles. Here's the first one. BACK TO SCHOOL - #1 Introduction September’s almost here, and it’s back to school season. Back to the basics, back to reading, writing, and arithmetic. Actually, any time is a good time for a bariatric refresher course. It’s easy to lose your focus and take a few too many side trips to the land of potato chips and chocolate while you trudge along the weight loss surgery trail. When post-ops ask how to get back on track, the most common response is a very sensible one: BACK TO BASICS. You’ll find this valuable advice in Finding Your Bariatric Brain Again, by 7 Bites_Jen http://www.bariatricpal.com/page/articles.html/_/support/post-op-support/finding-your-bariatric-brain-again-r231, and I’m going to address the topic in a series of three articles. Back to basics advice is covered in greater detail in two sections of Bandwagon: in the 21 rules for success (chapter 6) and the 15 eating skills (chapter 12). Although Bandwagon was originally written for adjustable gastric band patients, much of its material applies to every and anybody who’s had weight loss surgery. You don’t have a copy of Bandwagon? That’s easy enough to remedy. Click here to order your very own copy. http://jean-onthebandwagon.blogspot.com/ Back to the Basics: The 3 R’s While you’re waiting for your copy of Bandwagon to arrive, let’s talk about the 3 R’s: readin’, ‘riting, and ‘rithmetic. What are the 3 R’s of weight loss success? 1. R is for Reading – learn to read your body’s signals about hunger, satiety, and appetite. 2. R is for Writing – keep a food and exercise log. Studies show that people who keep a food log lose more weight than those who don’t. 3. R is for Arithmetic – weight loss, as hard as it can be to achieve, involves very basic arithmetic. As long as you burn more calories than you consume, you will lose weight. This doesn’t mean that you have to count calories to lose weight, or count calories for the rest of your life, but if you’re struggling and not sure why, try calorie counting for at least one week. Free online tracking programs and food log programs like the ones available at sparkpeople.com and livestrong.com) make it easy to log your food intake and calculate your calories. And by the way, calorie counting is most accurate when you’re weighing and measuring your food. Yes, more arithmetic!

What is it that’s making you look fat when you look in the mirror? Is it the garment, or the mirror, or your own critical eyes? Be honest, now. A skewed body image is fairly common in obese or formerly-obese people. Back in bad old days, I couldn’t see or comprehend how fat I was. I could see it in photographs, but not in the mirror. Seven years later and 115 pounds lighter, I’m beginning to see and believe how small I am now. I still struggle with my dislike of a particular body part. Although the dislike is somewhat balanced by my like for other body parts and the sized XS clothes I wear, that awful body part bugs me. I can see the size labels on my clothes and the numbers on my scale, but the mirror tells a different story. Just like poor Jema in this article’s cartoon, I still have fat days. So, what’s going on in that teeny organ I laughingly call my brain? Let’s pick up that rock and take a look at the creepy crawlies underneath it. Call it shock therapy, aversion therapy, or unflinching honesty. It must be done sooner or later, so let’s do it now. My big bugaboo is my belly, and its reign of terror has gone on for 50+ years. Even when I was just overweight, not yet obese, my belly caused a business associate who hadn’t seen me in a while to ask, “Jean, when’s your baby due?” And when I said curtly, “I’m not pregnant,” this jerk said, “Hmmm. Are you sure about that?” Now, I often say that I have no desire to ever wear a bikini again, not in public and not in private. That’s not due to modesty or age-appropriate dressing. It’s because I don’t think the world is ready to see my belly. According to the body fat quiz at http://www.healthcentral.com/cholesterol/home-body-fat-test-2774-143.html?ic=4004 ), my body fat percent is now 21.5% - ideal for a woman of my height and age. That 21.5% fat includes both subcutaneous (under the skin) and visceral (surrounding my internal organs), and it amounts to 25 lbs. of fat. In my mind, every ounce of that is located on and in my belly. So, what can I do about my belly? I’m sometimes tempted to click on one of those omnipresent internet ads that proclaim, “Trim belly fat with this one weird old trick,” but I don’t because I suspect the trick is just too weird for a sensible senior citizen like me. I exercise 5 days a week, doing aerobic/cardio training, strength training, flexibility and stretching. I’m working on better posture and firming up my abdominal muscles. A tummy tuck would probably help, but it’s not going to happen unless I win the lottery (after buying a ticket for the first time, of course), so I dress carefully to hide my “too fat” mid-section, in clothing that’s not clingy and doesn’t smack of maternity-wear. I’m hiding my trouble zone not just from other people but from myself when I dress like that. In introspective moments of reflection, I ask myself if I’m continuing my old can’t-see-the-fat trick. Shouldn’t I finally face that demon? Maybe, maybe not. Obsessive thinking has rarely helped me deal with life’s challenges. A very honest friend confirms that fat belly is real. Rather than allow it to run my life, I’m going to try changing the way I react to it. I think that’s a strategy that will help me in lots of different ways, some of them unrelated to my faulty body image. I also suspect that lots of different people underestimate the power of their own thoughts. If negative thinking about your own body troubles you too, why don’t you join me in the effort to put the negative stuff in its place and cultivate positive thinking? And dare I suggest a laugh or two? Check out the Jema & Alice cartoon you’ll find here: http://jean-onthebandwagon.blogspot.com/2014/07/does-this-make-my-butt-look-bio.html

A skewed body image is fairly common in obese or formerly-obese people. Back in bad old days, I couldn’t see or comprehend how fat I was. I could see it in photographs, but not in the mirror. Seven years later and 115 pounds lighter, I’m beginning to see and believe how small I am now. I still struggle with my dislike of a particular body part. Although the dislike is somewhat balanced by my like for other body parts and the sized XS clothes I wear, that awful body part bugs me. I can see the size labels on my clothes and the numbers on my scale, but the mirror tells a different story. Just like poor Jema in this article’s cartoon, I still have fat days. So, what’s going on in that teeny organ I laughingly call my brain? Let’s pick up that rock and take a look at the creepy crawlies underneath it. Call it shock therapy, aversion therapy, or unflinching honesty. It must be done sooner or later, so let’s do it now. My big bugaboo is my belly, and its reign of terror has gone on for 50+ years. Even when I was just overweight, not yet obese, my belly caused a business associate who hadn’t seen me in a while to ask, “Jean, when’s your baby due?” And when I said curtly, “I’m not pregnant,” this jerk said, “Hmmm. Are you sure about that?” Now, I often say that I have no desire to ever wear a bikini again, not in public and not in private. That’s not due to modesty or age-appropriate dressing. It’s because I don’t think the world is ready to see my belly. According to the body fat quiz at http://www.healthcentral.com/cholesterol/home-body-fat-test-2774-143.html?ic=4004 ), my body fat percent is now 21.5% - ideal for a woman of my height and age. That 21.5% fat includes both subcutaneous (under the skin) and visceral (surrounding my internal organs), and it amounts to 25 lbs. of fat. In my mind, every ounce of that is located on and in my belly. So, what can I do about my belly? I’m sometimes tempted to click on one of those omnipresent internet ads that proclaim, “Trim belly fat with this one weird old trick,” but I don’t because I suspect the trick is just too weird for a sensible senior citizen like me. I exercise 5 days a week, doing aerobic/cardio training, strength training, flexibility and stretching. I’m working on better posture and firming up my abdominal muscles. A tummy tuck would probably help, but it’s not going to happen unless I win the lottery (after buying a ticket for the first time, of course), so I dress carefully to hide my “too fat” mid-section, in clothing that’s not clingy and doesn’t smack of maternity-wear. I’m hiding my trouble zone not just from other people but from myself when I dress like that. In introspective moments of reflection, I ask myself if I’m continuing my old can’t-see-the-fat trick. Shouldn’t I finally face that demon? Maybe, maybe not. Obsessive thinking has rarely helped me deal with life’s challenges. A very honest friend confirms that fat belly is real. Rather than allow it to run my life, I’m going to try changing the way I react to it. I think that’s a strategy that will help me in lots of different ways, some of them unrelated to my faulty body image. I also suspect that lots of different people underestimate the power of their own thoughts. If negative thinking about your own body troubles you too, why don’t you join me in the effort to put the negative stuff in its place and cultivate positive thinking? And dare I suggest a laugh or two? Check out the Jema & Alice cartoon you’ll find here: http://jean-onthebandwagon.blogspot.com/2014/07/does-this-make-my-butt-look-bio.html

Anyone who’s known me for more than 10 or 15 minutes knows that I love to laugh. I even laugh about my obesity, when otherwise I might cry. But obesity is not a laughing matter. Obesity is serious. Dead serious. As serious, in fact, as a heart attack. And that’s why we all need to take it seriously. We need to keep the Grim Reaper in mind even as we journey to a new life free of excess weight. Yesterday I showed a friend (who never knew the obese Jean) a photo of me taken 95 pounds ago. She said, “Wow. Talk about reinventing yourself!” Bariatric surgery, and the weight it helped me lose, didn’t just help me reinvent myself. It saved my life, and I’ve heard many other people say the same, using the exact same words: “It saved my life.” So it puzzles me to see other people acting as if weight loss is a hobby rather than a career, a hobby they’ll discard once they arrive at their goal weight and go on to something fun and easy, like a party or a vacation. They’re not stupid people, so why don’t they recognize the gravity of their situation and the life-changing importance of weight loss surgery? Do they not know what “morbid obesity” really means? I know what it means to me. I know that it’s a matter of life and death, but I freely admit that sometimes I want to forget it altogether. I’m a new woman, enjoying a new life, making up for lost time. I’m tired of worrying about food and eating and the numbers on my bathroom scale. I don’t want to think about the Grim Reaper any more, but I can’t afford to forget him, because he follows me everywhere. That’s because weight loss surgery doesn’t cure obesity. All it does is treat it. It merely helps us manage the chronic disease of obesity. That management is a lifetime job. We all know what obesity is – it’s the excess weight that drove us to bariatric surgery in the first place. We know how miserable obesity makes us look and feel, but none of us can afford to ignore the morbid part, because that’s the part that drives us to the grave. It’s the part that increases the risk of heart disease, diabetes, cancer, and other potentially fatal conditions. Morbid obesity may not be listed as the cause of death on your death certificate, but it’s the cause that’s lurking around the corner. Your friends and family aren’t going to pay much attention to that, because all they’ll care about is that you’re gone long before they ever dreamed they’d have to say goodbye to you. Wearing plus-size or big-and-tall clothing while we watch our kids enjoy carnival rides that we’re too fat to fit on is lousy today, but morbid is lousy forever. Even if you have no or mild co-morbidities (conditions caused or aggravated by obesity) today, chances are you’ll develop them in a day or a year or in 10 years. Morbid obesity is morbid because it’s been proven to shorten our lives. Even if you can overcome the heartache and shame of being excluded from life’s joys, you can’t overcome death. That’s forever. And I can’t ignore Forever. Can you? So this is your wake-up call. Obesity can be fatal. It’s serious. Dead serious. It’s time to buckle down and do something about it…right this minute, before the Grim Reaper gets an inch closer…Hey! Get moving, now. Here he comes!

It’s 12:15 pm. Sad to say, your meal is over now. I used to work with a recovering food addict (I'll call her Wendy) whose work station was about four feet away from mine. We both went to lunch in the company break room at noon every day. Wendy had lost over 100 pounds in a 12-step program, but food was still of paramount importance to her. At 11:45 every morning, she would announce hopefully, "It's getting close to lunch." At 11:55, she would announce ominously, "It's getting dangerously close to lunch." At 12:00, she would announce triumphantly, "It's time for lunch!", spring out of her chair, and head for the break room. At 12:15, came the final, regretful announcement, "Lunch is over." Our coworkers found this daily ritual both amusing and annoying. Only another food addict (like me) could understand what was going on in Wendy's head as she looked forward to her noon meal and then mourned its passing. What's the take-home message from this story? Lunch is over. It has to be over. You must put down your fork and stop eating when your planned portion is gone or the instant you get a stop message. But what if there's still food left on your plate? What about the children in Armenia (all starving, according to my mother)? What about that leftover food? 1. Get up from the table (say, "Excuse me" if it seems indicated). 2. Put the food in a storage container, and put the container in the refrigerator, or throw the food away (down the garbage disposal, where you can't get at it, is best). 3. Take your plate to the sink and rinse or wash it. Did I say "throw the food away"? In spite of the starving Armenian children? I sure did. I'm not going to tell the World Health Organization that you threw out the extra food. You can donate money to a food charity to help feeding starving children (you'll be able to afford a few bucks for charity because you won't be spending $50 a month on soda). God will not strike you dead for this, I promise. Remember what Rhoda Morgenstern said to Mary Tyler Moore as she tore into a chocolate bar back in 1973 (or thereabouts)? "I don't know why I'm eating this. I should just rub it directly on my hips." So look at that plate of leftover food and ask yourself, "Should I roll in it, or throw it away?" Lunch is over!

Admit it. You know what self-pity is, at least well enough to know it at a glance as you trudge on and on towards your weight goal. So take a look at this cartoon and see if you recognize anything about it. In today’s episode of the WLS adventures of Jema and her faithful dog, dark clouds hang over their heads and rain a deluge of self-pity onto Jema’s life. What climate condition started that rain? The cause is an emotional meteorological phenomenon commonly known as envy. Jema has been comparing her WLS journey to everyone else’s and comes out crying because they’re all so successful that she’s a failure in comparison. Or so she believes…. I understand how Jema feels because if I let them, envy and self-pity walk hand in hand through my life. They trample right over the good stuff and cultivate the bad stuff. The kind of stuff that gets me nowhere near my goals. Jema’s problem today is that she attended a support group meeting and left it thinking evil thoughts about another bandster who’d reported a 50-pound weight loss already. Jema had "only" lost 35 pounds. What was wrong with her? Why was Debbie Doolittle but not Jema blessed with superior band success? Jema’s been a good girl too, in fact, a very hard-working and deserving girl. As our heroine wails in today’s cartoon, “It just isn't fair!” So she throws herself a pity party while Alice plays the violin. And then? And then, she dries her eyes and moves on. She decides to use her rival’s weight loss success as inspiration instead of punishment, Debbie Doolittle might even have some tips to share at the next support group meeting. Somehow, some way, Jema’s going to find the silver lining in her dark cloud. OK, party’s over. Back to work! Click here to see today's cartoon: https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1554342973151004146#editor/target=post;postID=8785291681792807452

If I didn’t have a sense of humor, I could never have survived 60 years of living, including 2+ decades of morbid obesity and the 6+ years of my WLS journey. Don’t get me wrong – I took my band (and later, my sleeve) surgery very seriously because I felt that this was my very last chance to get healthy – but laughter is part of what makes my life happy, and makes it much easier to bear my ridiculous fear of starving to death. Today’s episode is: I’M GONNA STARVE! That title is exactly what I thought in the beginning about my post-op life – Deprivation! Suffering! Starvation! I know I’m not alone in this because through the years I’ve seen so many posts on the “When will this get easier?” theme. To reach the easier part of my WLS journey, I had to do some mental, emotional and spiritual fine-tuning. The idea of a middle-class woman living in a rich and obese country like the USA actually starving to death was and is absurd. Absurdity is ideal material for a comic strip. I hope you’ll get a laugh or two from I’M GONNA STARVE.

Today’s episode is: I’M GONNA STARVE! That title is exactly what I thought in the beginning about my post-op life – Deprivation! Suffering! Starvation! I know I’m not alone in this because through the years I’ve seen so many posts on the “When will this get easier?” theme. To reach the easier part of my WLS journey, I had to do some mental, emotional and spiritual fine-tuning. The idea of a middle-class woman living in a rich and obese country like the USA actually starving to death was and is absurd. Absurdity is ideal material for a comic strip. I hope you’ll get a laugh or two from I’M GONNA STARVE.

Even 6.5 years after the start of my WLS journey, I'm amazed when I look at photos like this:

I know. Weird question. After decades of being able to out-eat my husband (9" taller and does manual labor for a living), I should count my lucky stars that I can't eat much nowadays. And I've been at the WLS game for 6-1/2 years now, so you'd think I'd be used it by now. In the final 18 months or so of my happy coexistence with my band, I realized that I just didn't care about food all that much. It was wonderful to be freed from slavery to my appetite. Since losing my band, and after living with my sleeve for 1-1/2 years, I now find myself very often feeling disappointed that I can't eat much at a meal. I love to cook, and the food looks and smells and tastes wonderful. I take a few bites of Protein, then veg, then maybe a starch, and I literally cannot eat another bite. But oh boy, do I want to eat another bite. Or 10. Or 100. Does anybody else deal with this kind of thing? thanks, Jean

Jim, the fill-no fill decision isn't one you need to make alone. You can (I hope) talk with your surgeon about the pros and cons your busy brain has been analyzing.

tmf - my husband eats like that, and sometimes it disgusts me. I look at that way of eating and think "now, that can't be healthy". I don't say anything, because I have to remind myself that I'M the one who had surgery, not him.......or others that eat like that. But it is eye opening, isn't it? Eye opening indeed! Years ago, a Chinese friend told me a story about taking another American out for dinner (in China, where I used to travel a lot). She was aghast at the amount of food he shoveled in, complete disregarding Chinese meal etiquette (you take a few bites from the communal bowl and send it on to the person beside you; you don't take any more food until the neighbor on your other side sends another bowl of food your way). If it weren't for my friend cluing me into meal etiquette, I could very well have been another American gobbling food and hardly even tasting it. At work the other day, I felt my eyes wanting to pop out of my head when I watched a coworker eat a sandwich in about 3 big bites. Whew! I'm glad those big bite days are behind me.

Doesn't sound crazy to me. My band somehow erased or at least greatly reduced my enjoyment of food. That was a really weird experience at the beginning!

I’m seeing a disturbing proliferation of victimhood these days. Every day the media broadcast reports about victims of crime – of scams, fraud, theft, murder – and victims of acts of God, like weather, fire, and floods. My heart goes out to those victims because I feel a kinship to them. I too have experienced violence, loss, trauma, and pain. But I am not a victim. Are you? VICTIMHOOD Before we get into the meat of this article, I want to ask you a question: are you a victim? Don’t tell me the answer yet, but keep it in your mind while you read the rest of this article. Victimhood can be alluring. It garners attention, assistance and pity that you can milk for the rest of your life if you play the role well. You don’t have to be responsible for rebuilding your life or restoring what you lost. That doesn’t appeal to me, though. It sounds boring and tiresome, and it discourages laughter, which I find even more healing than tears, so why does victimhood continue and even proliferate? Let’s take a closer look at how obese people like us become victims. WHO ARE THE VILLAINS? Every victim needs at least one villain. Who or what are your villains? Me – I got a lousy genetic legacy. I inherited every strand of obesity DNA my mother’s gene pool had to offer (plus the ones for thin hair and crooked teeth). We won’t discuss the humor genes I also got from her, though. Humor doesn’t enhance my victimhood. But that’s okay, because I’m actually not a victim. While we’re blaming obesity on our ancestors, we need to look at the flip side of the nature versus nurture coin. I got a raw deal there, too. Neither of my parents encouraged exercise or sports. In fact, they ridiculed physical fitness programs and encourage scholarship and mental fitness instead, so I ended up being a very smart, very fat intellectual. And that’s fine, because I have a college degree and an impressive resume as a result. And anyway, I’m not a victim. Another popular villain nowadays is addiction. Addicts will do anything to support a drug or other destructive habit. We need ever-increasing amounts of our substance just to prevent withdrawal, never mind to get high. For my brother, the substance is methadone. For me, it’s food, especially sweet or salty or fatty or otherwise nutritionally evil food, and it’s even easier (and cheaper) for me to score a hit of my substance than it is for my brother to score some of his. Baskin Robbins, McDonald’s, Lays and Duncan Hines are just a few of the virtually inescapable pushers I know. It’s sad but true, but I can overcome it, because I am not a victim. Let’s not forget our celebrity-worshipping society and the flood of images of skinny women that wash over us every single day. The media and the likes of Victoria Beckham, Kate Moss and Angelina Jolie constitute a vast and powerful band of villains. The siren song of “Thin Is In” sounds all around me, but it doesn’t matter because I can shut my eyes, turn down my hearing aids, and remember something important: that I am not a victim. In addition to obesity, I suffer from another incurable, chronic, debilitating disease that’s scientifically been linked to obesity. The pain and fatigue of fibromyalgia and myofascial pain syndrome haunt me every day, with villainy that threatens to suck all the joy out of my life. But I’m not going to let pain get the better of me, because I am not a victim. IN CONCLUSION Now let’s go back to the beginning of this article, where I asked if you’re a victim. I want to hear your answer to that question now, after you’ve read the article. Think carefully before you speak. Okay, here goes. Are you a victim? Really, truly, a victim? No? That’s great! Neither am I. Like you, I’ve chosen to win the weight loss battle, conquer the villains, and emerge the victor. I’m not going to settle for anything less than that, and neither should you. So grab your swords, my friends, and fight back now!

My mom (who also struggled with her weight) was short and blonde (like me). She used to say that inside her was a tall, thin brunette waiting to get out. I have a short, fat blonde girl inside me, waiting to get out.

What’s your incentive to work out and eat healthy day after day after day? Believe it or not, I’ve never watched “The Biggest Loser” television show, but I’m very familiar with a phenomenon I call The Biggest Loser Effect. For several years now, a local health club has run a Biggest Loser Contest two or three times a year, as a way to boost club membership, improve attendance, and (of course) motivate people to lose weight. Individuals or teams work out, participate in exercise classes, weigh in weekly, and the winning man, woman, and/or team collects a nice price consisting of cash and services (for personal training, massages, pedicures, etc.). The club lays claim to some pretty impressive success stories, like a husband and wife who lost over 100 pounds between the two of them. That’s a good thing. If health doesn’t motivate you to lose weight, maybe cash and prizes will. But who or what’s going to motivate you to keep going back to the health club, watching what you eat, and avoiding the morning temptation of a warm bed or the evening temptation of a nacho platter and a pitcher of beer? Who’s going to get your lazy butt over to the gym every day and power you through 45 minutes on the treadmill, stepper, or weight machines? When your lungs are searching for air and your straining legs are attempting the 9th jumping jack, is a piece of paper imprinted with “Federal Reserve Note” going to keep you going? Maybe, maybe not. All I know is that I’m what makes Jean jump the 10th time, and I’ve watched dozens of people of all shapes, sizes and ages leap into the Biggest Loser Contest with only a dim idea of how much work (and luck) will be involved in winning that prize. They show up for one or two classes, do a few reps with two-pound hand weights, wipe the sweat from their brow, and head off to McDonald’s for a light breakfast of sausage biscuits with hash browns, a cinnamon roll, and a giant Dr. Pepper (remember: I live in the South)…never to be seen again, except maybe on the obituary page of the local newspaper. That’s what I mean by The Biggest Loser Effect. The contest is a good start, a pledge to make important changes. Just stepping on the scale in a public place like a gym is a big deal. But the contest isn’t enough. Weight management is a contest that goes on for the rest of your life, and the grand prize is far more valuable than $500 or even $1,000,000 cash. The prize is living 10 or more years longer and healthier than you would have otherwise. The Biggest Loser Contest winners are the people who think about their eating and exercise all week long, not just when weigh-in time rolls around on Saturday morning. It may sound like I’m making fun of the losers who quit, but I can spot the quitters so easily because I used to be a quitter myself. A friend made me laugh the other day when she told me about checking through her “vast library of DVD’s” to find a Leslie Sansone exercise video. It reminded me of a “less is more” phase I went through a few years ago, during which I cleared my house of a lot of the clutter that had accumulated through the years, including my own vast library of exercise videos, some of them still sealed in their original packaging. Apparently I had thought that simply purchasing an exercise video would count as real exercise, or I played the video once, quit after 10 or 12 minutes, and sent it to the video graveyard in my bookcase. So I know whereof I speak. And I also know I’m going to go on being a loser, but I’m not going to go on being a quitter. Are you?

Believe it or not, I’ve never watched “The Biggest Loser” television show, but I’m very familiar with a phenomenon I call The Biggest Loser Effect. For several years now, a local health club has run a Biggest Loser Contest two or three times a year, as a way to boost club membership, improve attendance, and (of course) motivate people to lose weight. Individuals or teams work out, participate in exercise classes, weigh in weekly, and the winning man, woman, and/or team collects a nice price consisting of cash and services (for personal training, massages, pedicures, etc.). The club lays claim to some pretty impressive success stories, like a husband and wife who lost over 100 pounds between the two of them. That’s a good thing. If health doesn’t motivate you to lose weight, maybe cash and prizes will. But who or what’s going to motivate you to keep going back to the health club, watching what you eat, and avoiding the morning temptation of a warm bed or the evening temptation of a nacho platter and a pitcher of beer? Who’s going to get your lazy butt over to the gym every day and power you through 45 minutes on the treadmill, stepper, or weight machines? When your lungs are searching for air and your straining legs are attempting the 9th jumping jack, is a piece of paper imprinted with “Federal Reserve Note” going to keep you going? Maybe, maybe not. All I know is that I’m what makes Jean jump the 10th time, and I’ve watched dozens of people of all shapes, sizes and ages leap into the Biggest Loser Contest with only a dim idea of how much work (and luck) will be involved in winning that prize. They show up for one or two classes, do a few reps with two-pound hand weights, wipe the sweat from their brow, and head off to McDonald’s for a light breakfast of sausage biscuits with hash browns, a cinnamon roll, and a giant Dr. Pepper (remember: I live in the South)…never to be seen again, except maybe on the obituary page of the local newspaper. That’s what I mean by The Biggest Loser Effect. The contest is a good start, a pledge to make important changes. Just stepping on the scale in a public place like a gym is a big deal. But the contest isn’t enough. Weight management is a contest that goes on for the rest of your life, and the grand prize is far more valuable than $500 or even $1,000,000 cash. The prize is living 10 or more years longer and healthier than you would have otherwise. The Biggest Loser Contest winners are the people who think about their eating and exercise all week long, not just when weigh-in time rolls around on Saturday morning. It may sound like I’m making fun of the losers who quit, but I can spot the quitters so easily because I used to be a quitter myself. A friend made me laugh the other day when she told me about checking through her “vast library of DVD’s” to find a Leslie Sansone exercise video. It reminded me of a “less is more” phase I went through a few years ago, during which I cleared my house of a lot of the clutter that had accumulated through the years, including my own vast library of exercise videos, some of them still sealed in their original packaging. Apparently I had thought that simply purchasing an exercise video would count as real exercise, or I played the video once, quit after 10 or 12 minutes, and sent it to the video graveyard in my bookcase. So I know whereof I speak. And I also know I’m going to go on being a loser, but I’m not going to go on being a quitter. Are you?