I'm With The (Lap) Band

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

A smack in the head...

Two nights ago – at 1:30 in the morning – I fell.

I was trying to get my indoor cat to come indoors. Since we moved into the house, my 10 year old, never been outdoors in his life besides when he was moved from his previous owner’s house to the ASPCA to my house and then to various vets (and one plane ride that I’m sure he would describe only as harrowing) cat – has decided that he loves the confines of our back yard. (At the apartment, he would show some signs of curiosity as to what was behind that door that the new puppy wanted to go through all of the time – but any time it opened, he would scoot away.)

Monday night, while I was unable to sleep, I left the back door open so he and the dog could come and go at will. When I was ready to go to bed, I had to go outside to coax him back in. Mind you, it had been raining and as my foot hit the wooden floor of our living room, my left leg went scooting into the living room while my right leg stayed firmly planted on the mat outside the back door – well, firmly planted until it buckled underneath me in what could only be described as the same sort of half-split I was only ever able to do when I was a child.

In the process, my left hip popped so loudly I wasn’t sure whether the sound of it or the sounds of my wailing would awaken the neighbors. (I was sure it’d be them and not my could-sleep-through-a-firestorm-hubby.) He finally heard me and came running when he saw I was on the floor – half in and half out of the house. After hearing and feeling that pop, I was scared my hip was broken or would be in such pain we’d have to call those firemen he wants to keep me away from (I’m sure that was his fear, too).

Amazingly, I got up just fine and even more amazingly, my hip didn’t hurt at all for the first time in months. (I have what I can only describe as “human hip dysplasia.”)

Although I really smacked my butt on that floor, it was like I got a good head smacking – like one of those “I coulda had a V-8” type of moments – because for the past couple of days, I’ve come to a few realizations in this journey I’ve begun.

I’ve realized that as much as I thought I was ready for this band, I don’t think I was. I’m getting there – but desperately wanting a change and being READY for a change are two different things.

I’ve realized that as much as I’ve read and felt like I knew about the care and feeding of a bandster, I have a lot more to learn.

I’ve realized that I take HUGE bites…and that is something that needs to stop. Just as losing weight is not a race – neither is getting through dinner.

I’ve realized that my “good” food choices are still full of fatty things – which I am now changing. (Thanks to fitday.com for pointing out the fat content in my daily intake.)

I’ve realized that I’ve got to get things out of my refrigerator that are not good for my journey – and if Alek wants them for himself, I’ve got to realize that this is my journey and not his – and I’ve got to know when to say “That’s NOT yours” to myself.

I’ve realized that Alek is more supportive of me than I ever could have asked for.

I’ve realized that I need to find a good therapist/life coach to help me deal with lots of things.

I’ve realized that I’ve got to quit going to get a snack out of habit and then realizing I don’t really want or need it – and then giving it to the dog – or she’s going to need to go see Dr. B for her own band soon.

And most of all, I’ve realized that that fall the other night was the most exercise that I’ve gotten in a long time – and that’s going to change. I have a Bally’s membership that is paid for every month – and I have a group of people who meet every Sunday for a workout with a trainer who can help me find the things that my dysplasia’d hip and I can do.

My journey continues…