A retrospective piece... (from my diary)

OK, cake... in the kitchen. Why is it calling my name?

Do I crave it?... No!

Am I hungry?... No!

Do I need the “nutrients”?... No!

Then why on Earth am I contemplating going to the kitchen and eat some cake???

Why do I put things in my mouth if the answer to all the questions above is NO???

I need to dig into this. I feel like I’m giving myself permission under certain circumstances. Special dispensation to eat cr.p if:

•           I made it myself
•           I bought it myself (most of the time under the pretence of buying it for “others”)
•           I'm in my native land of Hungary.

It goes something like this: “it’s only half a portions” or “it doesn’t happen every day”. But the most vile of all these thoughts is “what if I cannot eat this ever again?”.

Why do I let these crappy excuses sabotage my rules? Where is that little weak corner in my resolve where I so easily retreat under these circumstances? Where is this weakness rooted?

And on the other end of the thought process: where is the voice giving me special dispensations coming from?

I must be on the lookout for the answers to these questions. I must watch myself like a hawk and catch them in the act, find them out, unmask and understand them so they can be resolved and banished for the rest of my life.

P.s.: for anyone who’s interested: I DID NOT EAT THE CAKE...

Useful tool (for travelling)

Hi lovely readers,

I thought today, instead of blabbing about things you already know or couldn’t care less, here is a gift from me to you:

Click here to download the poster. 

I stumbled upon this sheet while doing my research before my surgery. I’m sure many of you are travelling for far-away shores in the summer months (or at winter, for that matter) and it might come useful if something nasty happens to you. I really wish it wouldn’t, but the devil never sleeps...

So, if you wish, print out this poster and put it between your travelling documents – and if you need some medical help give it to the doctor. I know I will do just that when hubby and I are off to Egypt in September.

That reminds me: insurance! Can someone please let me know how do you deal with travel insurance? Do you declare your “situation” when you apply for one? Does it matter anyway? Do you use a special insurance company? I’m not really sure what to do.

Kindest to all!

Have you put your sweat on today?

I have...

Cautionary tale - a'la La Fontaine...

There was a girl at my doctor’s office the other day. We were waiting for the secretary to hand out the documents we need for our adjustments. She looked well familiar with the setting, so I assumed she’s not a newbie (unlike me...). She was holding an open box of teacakes. She was from the biggish end of the obesity spectrum. Our doctor walked out of the office, greeted us. The girl said: “can I interests you with a teacake?”. Doc’s face went blank. He said: “No, thank you – I’m really not into sweets. AND NEITHER ARE YOU!” I swear he said it in capitals. I tried to turn invisible on that point. The girl started protesting, saying she only brought the cake for the secretary and anyway she’s diabetic so she couldn’t eat them even if she wanted to. Doc walked off the scene without further comment.

Later in the waiting room of the x-ray department (my doc does all the adjustments under x-ray with barium) I sat next to the girl and her partner. She was complaining about not losing weight as fast as she hoped; that she’s going to need another operation on her spine; that she’s got a dozen various appointment with various doctors in the coming month... etc, etc.

The open box of teacake was still in her hands... I looked away and tried to get back to my book.

That’s the tale. It did happen. And as with La Fontaine, the audience is kindly required to draw their own conclusions. I know I had mine – but I’m strongly opinionated in this topic, so I’m not going to share it with you guys. However, I cannot resist a pointer: WTF!! Coming to your adjustment with a box of cake in your hands!!!! And the government is paying for your treatment where I’m self funding??? REALLY?

Ok, no more – I’m going to get carried away and I might lose my first follower (Hello Tone!)

Oh, one more thing: I couldn’t help but put my doc’s shoes on for a while – how he must feel when he sees something like this! Slaving away in the theatre, operating on cases others gave up on, trying to give them a tool to improve their lives. And they come around to the appointment and offering him cake! He’s a great and strong man. He must be, because if it were me in his white coat I couldn’t have helped to make some stronger comment about wasting everybody’s time and some money in the process... But then again: I’m well opinionated.

Thank you for your kind attention.

First ever...

Chained myself to the Band Wagon

 – I believe this describes how I feel and think about my situation and decision.

I’ve been banded (REALIZE adjustable gastric band) on 23^rd June 2011. As far as I can see, making this decision and going through all the hurdles (and paying the costs all by myself!) sort of removes the other options and leaves me with the sole option of success.

So my motto is the title of my newly created blog. This tells me all about the previous attempts and failures of losing the excess weight – picking a diet, sticking with it and, sooner or later, falling off the band wagon and following several tries to get back, just abandoning the track altogether.

Now this last bit which just cannot happen from now on! Abandoning the track (and the proverbial wagon). There are no more band wagons – now I’m on the Band Wagon! And I’m literally chained (well, stitched) to it for good. I can fall off – which I’m certain I will several times throughout the journey – but because I’m physically attached to it I just have to dust myself down, maybe whine a bit about the pain and inconvenience – and then get on the Band Wagon again and solder on like a good little girl.

That’s it. In short. Just as an opener. I promise to catch you up with the details as I go on. J

Ohhh and: Welcome to my Blog!!

I must pre-empt: I’m really not a writer; I’m not creative enough with words; English is my second language; I keep my thoughts to myself and I’m not interesting at all. That does not add up for a great blogger. But I think it will help me on my journey  and it might (I hope against hope...) turn into a great support system too.

I would like to pay homage to my inspirations in this: Lap Band Gal, Amy from Cheese and Sunkist and Banded Wendy – I’ve read and watched your blogs/vlogs before my surgery (yes, from the very beginning – and enjoyed every moment!) and it gave me immense amount of confidence in that I’m doing the right thing by opting for the surgery. I humbly bow my head in your virtual presents!

See you again shortly!