The Skinny on My Pre-Op Freak-Out

So the big day is closing in…and I’m starting to freak the hell out!!! I’m scared as frack for a multitude of reasons and my trepidation is increasing with each passing day.

Tomorrow I start my pre-op diet. I did try to be good this past week, at least in the beginning. But then I seemed honestly, legitimately more hungry than usual and my junk food cravings were unbearable. I would be good all day then come home and give in to the ice cream in the refrigerator or feel the intense need to stop at 7-11 on the way home and pick up a candy bar (or two). This definitely didn’t help my nerves. If I can’t even go two days without chocolate, how the heck am I supposed to go two months without solid food? What if I really can’t do this? What if I fail?

Sure, I’d considered the possibility of failure going into this. I know the statistics. I know it doesn’t work for everyone. I know a lot of people find ways to eat around the band and manage to eventually gain back any weight they lost in the beginning stages. I knew that I might never reach my goal or that I might, in the long run, not lose any significant amount of weight at all. I knew these things from the beginning, but all those images of skinny me at my sister’s wedding this fall, or my ten year high school reunion next year, or me in a sexy outfit in a bar in the city getting hit on by cute boys sometime in the foreseeable future, were the possibilities my head focused in on. I figured once the changes had been made to my body from this surgery I wouldn’t be allowed to pig out. I wouldn’t be able to binge on junk food. And I’m a good girl; when there’s a rule I follow it. So long as I had a hard and fast reason to eat better, I would stop being able to rationalize the bad things I ate, and I would succeed. Or at least that’s what I believed—or what I wanted to believe.

But I know it’s not going to be that easy. I’m going to be fighting those cravings all the time, especially in the beginning and If I couldn’t say ‘no’ this week, how will I do it next week, and the week after that, and for the rest of my life? Will I find a way? Or will this just be another failed attempt of mine to lose weight?

And that’s not all that scares me. Because let’s be honest here—I didn’t get to be 315 lbs by not liking food. In fact, I love food. And I don’t just love food. I love sitting down and stuffing my face with mass quantities of disgusting, bad for me food.

Right now I’m living at my parents house, since I had no money when I graduated vet school, and decided to stay at home for a year or so and save up money to buy my own place (which I will be moving into in a couple of months, but that’s a blog for another day.) Anyhow, the point is that even though I’m living at home, I’m 27, an adult and a doctor who is responsible for many lives on a daily basis. I should be adult enough to be responsible for my own life. My choices should be my own and I shouldn’t have to hide things from my parents just because I’m living under their roof at the moment. And yet, I do. I don’t hide boys, or pot, or alcohol--I hide food. When they go away and I know I’m going to have the house to myself, I think—“oh yay! I can stay in and watch a movie and order an entire pizza and eat it by myself.” I know this is not a healthy view to have on food, or on life in general, but it’s the way my mind thinks. I actually look forward to the opportunity to binge.

And now I won’t be able to do that again—ever. Which is good. I shouldn’t ever do that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to. And knowing that I can’t use large quantities of food to comfort myself is scary. Now I might actually have to deal with my emotions and to be perfectly honest, I don’t even think I know what my emotions are any more, I’ve been eating them down for so long.

And then there are the minor scary things. I’ve never had anesthesia before or even spent a night in the hospital (except the sleep studies I had to do) both of which I will have to do next week for the surgery. How will the recovery go? Will I be in much pain? How will I survive a week at home with my mother without the possibility of escaping to work? (that last one is definitely the scariest.)

So well, the freak-out isn’t exactly over, but I guess I’m done ranting about it for now. I’ll probably be back a few more times this week as D-day approaches. Tomorrow I think I’m getting weighed and measured by my PT at the gym so I’ll have some accurate starting stats to share with you. Until then, I’m going to try and convince myself that a week of Medi-Fast and fat-free, no sugar added yogurt sounds delicious.