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| Image courtesy of Shutterstock. |
Here are the week-ending numbers:
Starting
Weight:
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231.2
|
Original Target*:
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241.4
|
Adjusted Target:
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229.4
|
Actual Weight:
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226.0
|
Loss/Gain:
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–
5.2
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Total Loss:
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76.6
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% of Goal:
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55.3%
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Avg. Loss/Wk.:
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–
2.3
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*Original target calculated from a
starting weight of 302.6 lbs. and an average loss/wk. of 1.8 lbs.
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I blew the diet Friday night, when we had tamales (gotta
have chili on them), frijoles charros (which I prefer to refrijoles),
and Mexican rice. Too much jalapeño — I suffered all of Saturday, and it may
have contributed to the resolution of my
distribution problem. Alas, the effects of aging. I can no longer eat spicy
foods with gastric impunity. But the resolution of that problem is 95% of the 5.2-lb.
drop. I finally earned my Lose It! 75-Lb. Club badge.
Speaking of the distribution problem: I spoke with my “Indian
mom” (my primary care doctor) on Thursday, during a post-hospital follow-up. She
listened with concern to my problem. She gave me a couple of four-pill bottles
of Linzess, recommended more fiber in my diet (natch), recommended a fiber
supplement, and referred me to a gastroenterologist.
Why the GI doctor? Well, there’s a certain procedure that’s
recommended for everyone at age 50 and about every 5 years afterward. Doctor
Chandi, however, knew that I had been laid off shortly after my 50th birthday
and had no insurance for almost four years afterward, so she never made an
issue of it. And if she wasn’t going to bring it up, neither was I. But now I’m
insured, so I don’t get to put that procedure off any longer.
It’s one of life’s little ironies that colonoscopy is
a lovely, euphonious word for such a cringeworthy procedure. I’m told that the
preparation for the procedure is worse than the procedure itself. Thanks, that
makes me feel so much better about it.
However, cancer of any kind isn’t a laughing matter. It’s
estimated that just under 1 in 2 men and just over 1 in 3 women will contract
some form of cancer at some point in their lives. My maternal grandmother’s
lymphatic cancer, by the time it was discovered, had metastasized throughout
her body; she died shortly after the exploratory surgery. One of her sons had a
bout with colon cancer; fortunately, they caught it at a very early stage. So
it does run in my family, which means I can’t afford to ignore the possibility
that my distribution problem may be connected to something more serious. And I’m
done putting off health issues.
So I have an initial consultation with the tummy doctor for
tomorrow. In other respects, though, I feel pretty darn good. Sometimes I
deliberately breathe through my nose just because I can.
And last night, as I was bowling, three league members approached
me and asked, “Tony, have you lost weight? You’re looking very good!” Yes, they’re
people I see every week, but they’re not people whom I’ve bugged and bragged to
about my program. One of my brother Knights of Columbus who doesn’t attend
monthly meetings also commented favorably on my weight loss at church
yesterday.
Am I in danger of letting the compliments turn my head? I
hope not. I know what it’s like to see yourself as unattractive and even
contemptible because you’re fat (even when “fat” is merely twenty or thirty
pounds overweight). Getting rid of such a self-image isn’t like getting rid of
old clothes or an empty can of soup. It’s more like trying to yank out your own
teeth with grilling tongs. That’s why I suggest cognitive therapy for some
people. But it’s through knowing that self-image from the inside that I empathize
with other obese people.
I can’t emphasize this enough: Losing weight is not
about becoming attractive, let alone sexy. People will love you, hate you,
desire you, or reject you for any number of reasons, some of which will be
shallow, unfair, false, or just plain silly. Nothing you can do or say will
change that basic fact of human nature. Losing weight is about treating your
food and your body with the respect that gifts from God deserve.
So yeah, I appreciate the compliments and encouragement I’ve
gotten from family and friends, especially because I know they’ve always wished
me well and wanted good things for me. And if strangers react more positively
to me as I lose weight, well and good. But I hope I never lose the knowledge of
what it feels like to be obese, to be an outsider because of your weight and
appearance, to turn to food for comfort and reassurance as others turn to sex, alcohol,
and drugs. I hope it helps me to be a more compassionate man.
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