Through Thick and Thin #5 (September 4, 2002)
Stuffed in Seattle: Pigging Out and Waking Up
or
There really is no Free Lunch
It caught me by surprise that evening last week. I was celebrating a positive meeting with my bariatric surgeon earlier in the day. We had nailed down my late October surgery date. I was pleased that we had agreed that the Vertical Banded Gastroplasty (VBG) was the best surgical choice for me. Pleased because this procedure is less drastic and intrusive than the alternatives, with fewer risks of complications. And because it won't interfere with my body's natural absorption of nutrients, so I won't require regular B12 injections.
I was spending the evening in a hotel room, because I had a work assignment in Seattle the next day. I failed to recognize the dangers inherent in breaking my normal meal routine. And so I reverted to old habits and brought snacks, as well as dinner, back to my room. Just in caseŠ
That's when I lost it. And found it. Let me explain.
What I lost was my "food sobriety:" — my consciousness and awareness of what I had already consumed, how full I was, and when to stop eating. In my complacency, I reverted to old, familiar but very dangerous ways of thinking (or not) and eating. After an adequate dinner, I continued, throughout the evening, grazing on the snack food. I ate after I knew, or at least should have known, that my real hunger was satiated, and that whatever I was feeling came from feelings other than hunger. And that's when it hit me: I simply cannot afford ANY lapses after my surgery.
This time I got away pretty cheap: an uncomfortable, "stuffed" feeling, and the guilt of gorging. After my surgery, however, this kind of lapse into eating unconsciousness could jeopardize my surgery, tear out my staples, stretch my stomach pouch, jeopardize my weight loss and even risk my life. It scared the hell out of me! As it should. And in the midst of my fear, anxiety and guilt, I found the gifts and blessings inherent in this episode.
Gifts and blessings? Yes, because the experience gave me an extraordinary opportunity to learn and remember — this time, at least, without the terrible price I would have paid after my surgery. Because this reversion was a "cheap lesson" that branded, indelibly, upon my consciousness the admonition that I must remain aware, vigilant, and ready to never, ever fall into that hole again. This is not a game or a diversion; this is my life that's at stake.
I set myself up with my own complacency. I do get it now, deep in my gut: there really is no free lunch when it comes to bariatric surgery. The surgery will reduce the size of my stomach pouch, and it will give me the appetite regulator I've always lacked and wanted. It will give me a fair chance to lose the weight. But my eternal vigilance will be the price I must pay to achieve and maintain my health. And it's worth it. And I will fight to remain aware, conscious and sober in my abstinence from eating when I'm full after I have the gift of a reduced pouch and an appetite regulating band.
And I'm clear now that each time I fight off the impulse to slide into unconsciousness, my own personal power will be strengthened and multiplied. That every time I resist, I'm gaining power over my addiction.
Now that it's over and done, I'm grateful for my lapse. Because what it taught me is so much more important than what it cost me. And now, before the surgery, is the time for me to learn this lesson, once and for all, and to steel my resolve. This scary episode of being Stuffed in Seattle was my last and best chance to look inside and shift my paradigm so that I will never, ever again lapse into eating unconsciousness. I can't afford it. And I will not.
Glenn
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