"I'm Stuck...Again"

I'm sure in a past post, I shared the sensation of me being stuck. Remember way back when I began this blog. I was going to write about my metamorphosis from a woman with extra to the woman hidden within. Well...she's still in there somewhere. She just got stuck.

Now once again, I'm playing with words. Let me see if I can help you picture my first version of being stuck. Picture me at Chevy's Mexican Restaurant with the birthday club at work (Jen, Robyn, Irene, Gisele and me.) We order the same shared dishes as always as I sit back watching the conversation around me. Jen turns to her left to question me "You okay?" I look at her with wide eyes and say "No, how did you know?" She answers, "You're quiet and...ahh...you're quiet." You see over the past two years, Jen has learned that when I eat something that doesn't go down well, it will get stuck. It usually happens when I eat to quick, don't chew, or just eat something that doesn't agree with me. Most of the time, it feels as if you ate a handful of fries to fast & need a drink to wash it down. Not a good feeling, but not to painful.

There have been times that I have to excuse myself to simply spit. Remember that with the lap band, the food that doesn't pass the band will sit at the pass of the esophagus and eventually come up. Like a mama bird spitting up chewed food for the baby bird. For me, there's no bird to benefit. So that's one way that I get stuck.

Now on April 14th, I celebrated my two year anniversary. With pride I've kept off the 55 lbs that I've lost. With some regret, I do wonder where I lost the motivation to keep the weight loss going. Interesting enough, the motivation came back to me in the form of Gabe. Remember him - he's my P.A. who did my fills. It's been a good year since I last saw him and I thought it was time to see him again. Especially since I've been having more difficulty eating more than a few bites.

Since it had been so long, I had to have an Upper GI done. [Keep in mind once you're at your "sweet spot" with the right amount of saline fill, you don't go back for a while.] Truth is that I wasn't overeating or binging so I didn't think I needed Gabe. It was only with the realization that my band may have slipped -- hence, the limited intake -- that I was filled with regret. I learned via my beloved Google, that 5% of folks do have slippage that requires surgery. That was a good odd for me so my concern was minimum, but 5% concern was enough for me.

I soon learned from the radiologist that I did not have a slip but the shot glass of barium was slowly emptying from throat to stomach. I asked if that was bad. He responded not if Gabe and I wanted it that way. So now, I was left with the plan to see Gabe next week. Great. Gabe. He makes me feel sometimes like I'm in adequate. Not really, he just points out that I need to do more to make the band a success.

Ironically, I got to face my demon much sooner than a week. It was more like two minutes from getting dressed, there he was in his scrubs. You know...he's kind of cute. And this time he smiled at me. When I told him all went well and that I was just "tight", he said we'll figure it out next week.

So now I remembered. When you're too tight, you don't lose weight. You have limited appetite, you make poor choices for foods that go down easier (I-scream!) and reflux. That was me, me, me! Only six more days before we adjust this, I'm so glad to have the opportunity to get in gear again.

I've been stuck with food, stuck with ignorance, and stuck in a rut. Since this blog does mirror a caterpillar's metamorphosis, I'm going to allow me another shot of keeping that inner me from being stuck. C'mon girl...pull...out...of...your...cocoon! You can do it!