Getting Closer

The only things in my refrigerator are old condiments and protein drinks. I have cans of broth on my counter ready to heat when hunger strikes.

Surgery Monday. I did most of my pre-op stuff yesterday: Got weighed and blood pressure checked. BP is good and I lost another 11 pounds! Most likely due to the protein & liquid regimen. That makes a net loss of about 25 pounds since March (I gained a few pounds early in the process).

Met my surgeon Dr. Roger de la Torre, seems like a nice guy. Signed a blood transfusion (just in case) consent form. Then I went to University Hospital where I had blood drawn (including pregnancy test), my first-ever EKG, and then a couple of chest x-rays. This stuff seems to be in aid of making sure I am fit for the actual procedure. Then I pre-registered, which means all I have to do Monday morning is get a couple of wrist bands and talk the the anesthesiologist. About what, I am not sure.

I did better than expected making it through my time at work these past two weeks on the protein & liquids. This week promised to be extra challenging because I had to work a few more hours each day to fill in the gaps left by three other managers who happened to be out this week. Actually, it turned out to be a good thing because I was not sitting around thinking about food or how hungry I was. I took cans of broth and Slim Fast with me to work. Easy Peasy.

By the way, I have to give props to Slim Fast Low Carb Chocolate & Vanilla . They taste pretty good, and one can provides 20% of the protein intake required in pre-surgery. I also like the Muscle Milk Lite mocha latte. The EAS AdvantEdge Carb Control in chocolate and vanilla are fine. The only clear protein drink I've tried is Isopure, in iced tea and apple melon. Pretty decent.

After surgery, there's a week of clear fluids, so I will have to stock up on the Isopure and pick up something called New Whey. Plus broth. O, glorious broth! The deep rich smell and food-like taste are elixirs. Especially the chicken broth from Campbell.

This week I came across pictures of another old boyfriend on Facebook. He looks great. He was partying with three other people and a buttload of Moet ( to judge by the empty bottles on the table). At age 38, he is living his life very much as he did at 19 & 20, when we were together. Was that a bit of existential fatigue I saw in his eyes? Probably wishful thinking on my part.

Still, those pictures reminded me that I allowed relationships with boys and men to weigh me down. I gave these males far too much credit for being better than me. For knowing best. For having good intentions, underneath it all. These disasters entered my very flesh and I fed the sense of failure with self-disgust and actual food. Talk about baggage. My thirties are almost gone now, and I wasted the personal side of my life wallowing in fat. It was a sort of emotional hibernation, with brief forays into romance and other danger zones, like losing control of my finances. Food was my reward for suffering so much. This is what I told myself.