Sunday, 10 May 2009

Weigh-ins, a whinge or two and a photo finish.

It’s been a better month on the whole, thanks to the increased restriction, and when I go for my fifth fill this coming Wednesday I hope there will be a bit more to show for it than the usual miserable kilo. I know, better than nothing, shows a downward trend…

Thing is – and have you ever done this? – I always wear the same light clothes (leggings, same blouse), but knowing how touch and go it’ll be, at the second weigh-in by Margaret at Taunton Hospital I casually removed my shoes before being weighed. At the third weigh-in I casually removed my socks as well, at the fourth weigh-in (desperation setting in) I casually took off my glasses too and tried not to fumble my way to the scales. What’s left for this coming Wednesday? Can I casually remove my bra without Margaret noticing? And next time cut to the chase and strip off altogether before wobbling towards the little electronic screen? If I whistle loudly as I do it, will she just assume it’s a foreign Patagonian ritual of mine?

We’re settling into a pattern, my band and me. Total cooperation in the mornings with most forms of ingestion, barring coffee, rewarded with horrible discomfort and discreet sprints to the toilet, returning to desk with flushed, blotchy face and enquiring looks. Once I get home, the band is AWOL (on the whole), provided the earlier PB hasn’t been too violent. About once a week, I feel that nirvana of eating a meal and being able to stop half way through because I’m full. But it’s rare, and what weight loss there is, is caused by the discomfort. On these occasions I’m still hungry but am forced to put up with it.

One occasion was revealing: John, a friend of his and me went to the theatre in Bath and had dinner after the show at 11 p.m. in an Italian restaurant. They took a long time to serve us, and I ended up with a modest starter and having to wait 20 minutes before the main course – ravioli – arrived. We didn’t mind, as we were talking animatedly about the play we had seen (a very dated Noel Coward piece), and I suddenly realised having had about a third of the helping, that I really didn’t want any more. Just as I started to say “I think I’m full, but….” John, delighted for me, swiped my plate from under my nose and scraped the remainder onto his own. I didn’t get to finish my sentence or my dinner, but reflected later that the starter probably prepared both my band and my brain. My brain had time to tell my stomach that the feeding process had started, and the conversation made me eat more slowly than usual and not have the usual “I’m-hungry-so-feed-me” blue flashing lights inside my head. Wish it was like this every day…

I’ve made no bones in the past about the fact that I detest most forms of (public) exercise, and that “no-pain-no-gain” and “you ought to…” type speeches just make me stamp my foot and throw a tantrum; however I’m gradually easing myself into certain forms of activity. Most of the time I’m now parking in the employee car-park at the hospital which is a seven minute walk from my desk, involving one gentle hill, and we’re now swimming once a week – and this may also explain the extra pound lost.

Although I enjoy swimming, the before and after are not a laugh a minute. Some weird incompatibility with the chlorine, acquired in middle age, means I have to take antihistamines the day before and the day after if I’m not going to develop strange itching, and as a diabetic I have to have high blood glucose when I go in so that I don’t get a hypo in the pool (you suddenly feel weak as a kitten, and hauling yourself out and getting dressed is like one of the labours of Hercules). I try to avoid chocolate because I’m as addictive about it as anybody, so I end up having to have a liberally sugared bowl of cereal before setting out – wasted calories. The changing cubicles are intended for normal/small people, and it’s a struggle to cope with donning clothes on clammy skin in a confined space, not to mention trying to keep the items which go on via the feet from dragging on the floor which is awash with dirty, hair-clogged slops and probably athletes foot as well.

Shall I stop whingeing? Okeydoke.

Great Aunt’s Day

To finish on a completely different note, my niece has just had her first child, Duncan, and here he is with fond great aunt, finding the generous scaffold very comfortable to lean against.



Reddirt Woman said...

Oh my goodness... the little one is snuggled right in there, isn't he...

Great Aunt's should have a day, too.


Dawn said...

I can understand why the swimming is a big problem for you, to have to go through what you do, just to go swimming... Madness. So well done you for doing it. I hate the soggy floor when getting changed so I always take another towel with me to put on the floor. And I always spray my feet so lurgies are killed!

When I go for my weekly weigh in I always wear the same clothes and I haven't taken my shoes off yet... but I have in previous weigh ins - had my hair cut, not eaten, expelled all air from my body... just in case that adds any weight! had my nails and toe nails cut, and even tried to make myself feel lighter, just by standing on the scales at a slightly angle... none of the above worked, so now I don't

good luck with your next fill, I'm longing now for mine. Once the gallbladder has been removed I'm booking my 3rd fill in.


Tina said...

The weigh in: I used to do that when I used to go to weightwatchers. I wore bike shorts (God knows how bad I looked), a t-shirt and took off my sockless tennis shoes for weigh in. Now I could get away with this by telling everyone I went to the gym right after the meeting. I did actually go to the gym at the time though. Now I wear my jeans. to the doctors office and mentally subtract the 2-3 pounds OK i say 3 from the number but I wear the jeans each time. At home I weight myself on my digital scale right after I wake up, naked and after I pee. I of course count my naked weight as the real number.

Exercise: I have in my past shifted my arse enough to exercise but I agree with you It is not fun at all in any way blech. Why did you choose swimming? that would be at the very bottom of my list. swimsuit eeeeeeeeek, wet and moldy changing room...eeeeeeek. :) I think the walking from the car is great! I have tried that when i go shopping but not a good 7 minutes and a hill :)

Patience: Keep being patient the restriction will keep improving. You will have to do your part though and work hard to slow down. Your dinner in bath was a fine example of that. You also might have to change your breakfast food-how about oatmeal? or some other softish item?

Auntie: Congratulations! and happy auntie's day :)


Nola said...

I always try and wear the same clothes too...three quarter black pants and same shirt. I remove my shoes and make sure I have shaved my legs and cut my toenails before I go!! lol
All of a sudden you will get the "ahaaa" moment after one of the fills and just know this is how it is supposed to feel:)

Lonicera said...

I thought I had that "Aha" moment last time, but it faded after the first few days. The few times I've felt full after a few mouthfulls AND had no blockage have been wonderful, but far too few.
Went swimming last night and enjoyed it - to comment on Tina's question on why I chose swimming: easy, because water is the one place where I'm weightless, and I love the feeling of exercising without the pain of carrying my weight along as well!
And... I quite like the sensual feeling of being in water. Living in England it's rare to get the opportunity to swim outside in comfort, and it's what I miss most about having left Argentina - where swimming is part of daily life for a lot of the year. If I was rich I'd have a mega outdoor pool, a jacuzzi, and a small pool with an electronically engineered current, so I could swim in a confined space 'against the tide'. Well, I can dream, can't I?!
Thank you so much for all the comments.

Reddirt Woman said...

Caroline I had to come and thank you for your great response to my goof-up. You made me laugh with delight. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you... I'm going to post it as a quote by you on my page to forever remind me that crap happens.

Your Yank Blogging friend.


Hope your week is going well.

Lonicera said...

Helen, what a nice thing to say... I enjoyed writing it, and my work colleague asked me why I was grinning as I scribbled on a piece of paper - I hadn't realised I was smiling!!

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