Saturday, 16 May 2009
The oldest and slowest slimmer in town
Sunday, 10 May 2009
Weigh-ins, a whinge or two and a photo finish.
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.
-oOo-
Wednesday, 29 April 2009
My formula for world peace!
"Whichever it is the medical profession has finally found a series of interventions that can provide us with hope. I think the program you watched was negligent in pandering to the strong armers by discounting the band. There are plenty of successful cases and others who chose different surgical interventions who are also successful. Statistically the rate of success on our own is abysmal."
I agree, and I share her indignation. I would also add that it's not just TV programmes that pander to the "we slim people know what's good for you fatties" school of thought - almost every doctor in the land thinks that the answer to it lies only in common sense, (eat less and exercise more) with willpower being conjured up in the same way that burning your finger will cause a reaction in you that will stop you from carbonising yourself.
These doctors are soooo clever. Would somebody double their salaries please. They’ve stumbled upon the solution to the world’s problems. Hold the front page folks, it seems that …. deathly hush in the audience… (drumroll)….my voice is rising to a hysterial crescendo…
ALL YOU NEED IS COMMON SENSE AND WILLPOWER!!!
The solution to lung cancer? Look no further! All you have to do is to STOP SMOKING!
Drug addiction? Easy! JUST SAY NO!!
Alcoholism? You shouldn’t need to ask - just DON’T LIFT THE GLASS TO YOUR LIPS!!
Clear the jails? WHY, TELL PEOPLE TO COUNT TO TEN WHEN THEY’RE CONTEMPLATING A CRIME!
Stop all wars? Ask a doctor – he’ll tell you! CONTROL YOUR TEMPER!!!
Well, for heaven’s sake, why didn’t they tell me this years ago, and I would have stopped worrying about the world, agonising about my childhood and making my parents feel guilty…
As she says, at last we're being offered a tool to help us. And yet the medical profession is already tut-tutting because so many people want it, and it all so simple to them – save money by telling people not to eat in excess and do lots of exercise. But the world of the overweight is not like that, as they should well know: we try > we fail, we try > we fail > we suffer expensive complications > we cost the system more as we get older.
So here’s my suggestion for world peace:
Addictions to food, cigarettes, alcohol and drugs are problems with the brain not the body, invest in solutions to them and you’ll have a happier population which therefore would be better motivated to make money honestly, and be less likely to have sexual problems, turn to artificial alternatives or comfort eating… and people would therefore not lose their tempers and start wars!
I reckon that should earn me a Nobel Peace Prize at the very least.
Wednesday, 22 April 2009
A rant about a TV programme on banding
Three girls around the age of 20 were interviewed at some length, and it was clear their attitudes revolved around not knowing or not caring about why they were overweight, they were quite happy to admit to their failings, they wanted gastric bands and that was that. One and two were told they didn’t qualify for an NHS band, and were encouraged to eat healthily and do more exercise. № 1 had help from her mother, who got her a personal trainer and helped her plan her meals and disregard the unhealthy eating habits of the young boyfriend, and № 2 tried on her own but was getting married soon and knew she couldn’t lose enough by the big day so couldn’t get motivated. № 3 was given the go ahead for the band, but was told she had to lose a stone – 6 kg – before the op. She told the cameras she was doing the right things, though as her partner was as big as she was it seemed doubtful that she would manage it.
№ 1 lost a couple of stone over the next few months, and was the pride and joy of the dietician treating her, № 2 lost virtually nothing by her wedding day but was weighed several months later and had lost a bit. № 3 had the band fitted. During the op the surgeon commented that he could see from the state of her insides and her liver that she hadn’t followed much of a diet beforehand, and that she would probably have lifestyle adjustment problems in the future. The girl herself said she had “suffered a lot in the op, and that she was now finding that it didn’t always work”. She lost about the same as the other two over the same period, and the voice over pointed out in several different ways that the successes of №’s 1 and 2 hadn’t cost the system very much, as opposed to № 3’s.
The consultant, who fitted 20 gastric bands a week, thought the NHS shouldn’t waste time assessing which few people would be allowed a band, but that as many should be fitted as possible, to avoid the drain on NHS resources later on when the consequences of diabetes and joints wearing out became apparent.
The programme left me with the usual indignation – yet again the self-righteous point had been made that there’s no substitute for a healthy diet and exercise, yet it was obvious that № 1 wouldn’t be able to keep up the expense of a personal trainer and no doubt her motivation either once the TV cameras had gone home, and the same for № 2. № 3 will lose weight – a bit, a lot, who knows – but mainly because the band will bring her up short.
It may take a whole generation of people with bands to see that the solution lies in the prevention of the problem, not its long-term cure, which does not exist.
Whereas it’s too late both for those young girls and for the likes of us whose minds are set into the groove of food = pleasure = guilt, there’s the hope that in becoming slim, we are motivated, not for ourselves, but for our children. We need to be taught the skills of how to take responsibility for our children’s future, not just their present, by dealing with the psychology of their overeating, their eating for comfort, their guilt, their reluctance to exercise, and so on. I can see a future time when overweight could cease to be an epidemic because parents had learned the hard way, and with the help of school and television the message finally got through to the kids in time before the bad habits set in. One day I hope to see a television documentary that will make this point.
Saturday, 18 April 2009
Less like restriction, more like stranglehold
Wednesday, 1 April 2009
Life goes on
Wednesday, 18 March 2009
Burglary
Monday, 16 March 2009
The Seven Deadly Sins – random thoughts (Part 2)
Envy
A bit of it is fine, as long as it doesn’t take you over. I reserve my strong envy for people with strong dieting willpower, who are enthusiastic about putting up with physical discomfort so as to become fit, and for those who have used their intelligence to do worthwhile things with their lives. I’m so glad I grew out of envying people who were better off than I was, had prettier dolls and bedrooms, and lots of new clothes (and the latest Beatles records!)
There’s also the harmless envy of other living creatures that makes your imagination work – of the cat that gets away with sleeping by a fireside all day and whose looks alone usually ensure its survival among humans; the bird that can hover on a thermal as it captures the view below; the exhuberance of a dolphin that can streak through the water, diving in and out; the dog whose affections are so black and white and uncomplicated; the horse that can travel at speed, not with the intention of catching a meal or escaping pursuit, but just for the sheer exhilaration of it.
Wrath
Anger yes, temper no. I stuttered a lot as a child – I still do sometimes - and learned that you can’t lose your temper in an articulate manner when you know there’s a word coming up ahead you’re going to get stuck on. In addition, my older sister unintentionally forced me to abandon temper as a way of getting what I wanted or letting off steam - she usually managed to make me feel very small if I lost my temper, by use of the method I now know is a classic one used by children – spite: to respond to criticism by counter-criticising twice as hard. It was very bad for self-esteem.
But now I’ve discovered that I have the capacity to feel a great depth of anger towards people who have hurt me badly and refuse to discuss it rationally. To digress briefly from pathos to bathos, perhaps I’ve learned this from watching the ideal world of TV soaps where these things are resolved! However, whereas in soaps characters are forced to talk through whatever it is, my own (relatively recently acquired) coping mechanism is a strong determination to avoid people, situations and jobs that make me angry or unhappy. I ought to add a footnote here that I have not had children, but would like to believe that they would have been an important exception to this attitude.
Pride
The most difficult to discuss. Dignity is immensely important to me, as I would discover every time I had my heart broken. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself because I needed to feel that I was better than the person who was hurting me. And yet when I was made redundant in 2007 after 19 years with the same company, it affected me in a way that left no room for dignity, and I felt cast out of a trade I genuinely loved, which was the agricultural industry.
When you’re overweight it’s a wobbly knife edge you walk on if you tend towards self-consciousness, and if in addition you want to keep your dignity as well. You end up being forced into using your sense of humour as a way of getting there before anybody else does. British comedienne Jo Brand uses this method to great effect.
On the other hand one of my pet hates is when people are unable through pride or simply lack of guts to look at you in the eye, and apologise with meaning, or don’t know the significance of the word ‘humility’. Add to the list those who feel themselves to be superior because of position, money, status, qualifications, and so on. Sexism, racism, elitism and bigotry all come from misplaced pride, and I frequently seethe with inward rage when I see them in action.
Last but not least: Lust
There are many adjectives with which I could describe what this one is for me, most of them positive, but deadly ain’t one of ‘em. I would like to think that it’s meant as a deadly sin only when it provokes crime or elicits behaviour which harms another person. It’s one of those physical pleasures which help us get through life. I'd like to explore the general topic of how overweight people view physical pleasure generally in a future post.
-oOo-
Except lying. Where do you put it? With all of them perhaps. Thinking in the context of this blog, don’t say – as I could not – that you haven’t lied so that people don’t know how much you’ve been eating, or what treat you’ve hidden somewhere, or that you’re too proud to admit defeat, or because the truth would make your anger collapse like a pack of cards, or to hide the slothful fact that you simply can’t be bothered…
Nuff said I think.
Sunday, 15 March 2009
The Seven Deadly Sins – random thoughts (Part 1)
Gluttony
Well, it’s brought us to this blog, hasn’t it? The desire for physical pleasure which is most easily satisfied, the conjuring up of comfortable and comforting childhood when there were no responsibilities and your feeling unhappy was of great concern to grown-ups, who usually solved the problem by giving you something nice to eat. Then you got older and you discovered that you were expected to keep yourself happy, and that being miserable was no longer pitiful, but actually annoying to others – so you used the same methods, and gave yourself something nice to eat.
Gluttony is the logical outcome: the feeling of anxiety if we’re not full to bursting. This anxiety is the hardest of all the feelings to overcome when you’re overweight.
Greed
Yes, we’d all love to be multimillionaires and are convinced that it would “sort out” every single problem we’ve ever had or could have. In our heart of hearts we know that it wouldn’t really, but wouldn’t it be nice just to… sort of… well… find out for ourselves???
Greed is also what slim people see as the behaviour and motivation of overweight people (“You’re just plain greedy”). Not so. If it were we would be greedy at every level – money, attention, affection, satisfying every whim. It’s back to that anxiety again, the anxiety about feeling hungry and the threat of being excluded from the pleasure of eating.
Sloth
Oh dear, big black cross against my name here. Horrible word dating from an era when most people had few resources, and if you wanted to enjoy a decent standard of living you had to work very hard for it. Being lazy was therefore a Bad Thing, because it meant that it would inevitably result in your sponging off someone else who had worked hard. However I believe they meant it to be physical laziness – sitting around. Modern life is very conducive to not having to race about, on the whole, and now we see nothing wrong in having time to sit and reflect, and to sit and study in later life is positively encouraged. But sloth has got me -weightwise - to where I am today.
I do feel a nagging irritation towards some people who are mentally idle, and can’t be bothered to think something through, read a book or feel curiosity about the world outside their immediate circle. They’re generally very inspired about improving their physical fitness but make no effort to be better at their jobs, or learn anything new, not to mention what life is like in the rest of the world.
