So I was looking for parking to go to have the MRI done. I circled the area 3 times but no parking. Then there was a man getting into his blue car. OH! Gotta get that space now! But he wasn't moving. He started the car, but he just sat there. Now the light is green, and I'm waiting for him to pull out. I roll my window down and gesture for the other cars to bypass me. One car passes...and the next car just honks the horn. All I can think is, "Well, I have my signal light on, showing my intention...what's the problem?" The car behind me won't move...I look in the rear view mirror and it's a police car. I should've had a V-8! I move my car back a bit, so I can pull into a spot where there's a hydrant just to explain myself. The officer rolls down her window. "I'm just waiting for him to pull out. If I drive around, I'll lose the spot." The officer shakes her head. To my surprise she says, "Only because you're Judy Torres!" Wow. That's never happened before. I thank her. LOL...we both have a laugh, and I'm so relieved. I arrive to get the MRI only to be told I have to come back on Tuesday. Darnn.
Later on, I was waiting for my bariatric surgeon, Dr. Bilof, to see me. It felt like forever. I tried to read, to think about anything else so I wouldn't be so nervous. Wow, I could go for a nice piece of chocolate right now...His assistant walked in and weighed me. Ugh. I swear I wanted to run, Run Forest, Run!!! But I had to face the music; be accountable; and be proactive towards my health. He walks in, shakes my hand and looks over my file. It was immediate - the urge to cry. Why do I feel like crying? I knew if I started crying, I'd have a break down in his office. Damn, I can't believe just last year I was doing testimonials for him on the air, and today, I sit totally humiliated, feeling like a child who failed her father. He says, "Well you've gained some..but the good news is you're still weighing 38 pounds less than you were before the surgery. And that was what, two years ago?"
I explained that I had avoided coming in on a regular basis out of sole embarrassment. I told him about my hip pain preventing me from working out, feeling overwhelmed and worried about my mother, and finally admitted that I had been afraid. I noticed when I was very close to going under 200lbs I felt a physically stirring within me. It was anxiety, and it was powerful, an irrational fear that I would not be liked as much. I mean, people have known me to be fat all my life! I've worked hard to love myself the way I am. After all, my motto is "I may be chunky, but I'm funky!" And I love it, and the fans love it...I had also seen a picture of me that my friend gave me. I love the way the picture looks, but then I saw my arms. Hmm. For the first time I saw on myself what so many who've lost a tremendous amount of weight sees: saggy skin. I can't be having no saggy skin!!! Sorry, the Judy from the Bronx came out. LOL
"Well, Judy, how can I help you? We can do another adjustment and see the nutritionist here...or if you'd like we can talk about gastric bypass." I told him we can hold on the bypass. In my mind that is a last resort. If I am no longer ever able to work out; if I (God forbid) become a diabetic and hypertensive, then I will consider it. For now, I have to try AGAIN! This may be the 13th time I try, but the alternative is to give up, and I don't want to.
Here is Dr. Bilof's wonderful analogy...I hope I understood him right. On one side you have obesity, and on the other you have health, a.k.a. "Thin." The lap band is a tool, not a cure. It builds a bridge from obesity so you can cross to the other side. The challenge is that the bridge can allow you to cross back and forth...and sometimes you walk over the bridge back to obesity. Gastric bypass usually burns the bridge for good. The visual is in my mind now forever. How do I cross the bridge and burn it forever?
So I made an appointment for an adjustment, where the band is made tighter. Liquids only for four days, and then soft food for 3, and then slowly eating normal again.
I got home with one thing on my mind: I WANT CANDY! I looked everywhere in my home..no secret stash, nothing...I could feel fear, pain, sadness all coming up - it is so strange how as soon as I try to do right for myself, this odd pain comes up...that's usually when I treat myself to a snack And in that moment the snack pushes down those feelings, and I'm calm. OH, what I would give to have a glass of Pepsi! 39 more days to go? 39? I tried bargaining with myself: what if I just have a small piece of candy today? Ugh! Oh, can I do this? Damn, why did I decide to give them up for Lent? Maybe I can just get a small can...no...no..I can't. I poured myself a glass of water...don't know what tomorrow will bring, but all I know is I can say 38 more days to go...that sure is better than 39.