Well, here i sit in what was to be my day of Lap Band surgery. But due to an insurance "mix-up" needing another test, I am back to pre-launch. I wonder if this is the way astronauts feel before a mission? Nervous, excited, aprehensive, and this feeling that somehow life would never be the same again for them. Miss their families, friends, pets. I wonder if they sit there and say ..."Boy, I am SURE going to miss eating regular food." Of COURSE not, I can guaranteee this. Anybody who can endure the battery of performance and fitness testing that THEY do cannot possibly be worried about FOOD. But I am,...kinda...no, definitely. Definitely worried. Definitely. Rainman worried. definitely. Food and I go back a long long way. It is my best friend and my worst enemy. It has been there with me thru lonely teenage nights when I was one of the "undesirables" who sat home on weekends with no date, but a can of Ravioli and a Heath bar filled the hole a little and numbed the pain. Temporarily. Until later that night when I lay in my bed and looked out the window into the dark sky thinking how many calories I could put on in just one sitting. And that God saw the WHOLE thing. And He was just as disgusted with me as I was with myself. So I laid there in the dark, crying, and listening to all the heart-break songs that Delilah had to offer. "I'm Not In Love" comes to mind most often, because it was then and there that I figured that I would NEVER be in love or be worth loving. At 12:30 I hunted for the Pringles can I had hidden under the bed.
But i did fall in love, several times. It never stuck. And the young obese teen turned into the young obese woman who was still searching for love AND a teaching position right out of college. No jobs in my field, so my best friend and I decided we could search out of town. BIG MISTAKE. BIG. I found a job alright, 2 hours away from home in a little river town that rolled their sidewalks up at 5PM every night. And for a 21 year old single teacher (the only one in town it seems) life was pretty miserable. LONELY. Which made that hole in the center of my body grow bigger than a FLorida sinkhole. And GUESS what I decided to do? I took up Culinary Cooking. Julia Child, Justin Wilson,Paul Purdomme. I began collecting cookbooks and recipes. And cooking. ANd eating. Me and my little Huggy Bear, the happiest little chub of a cockapoo you ever saw. My friends were happy (wait, make that friend- jenny, who was painfully thin and resembled her pet parakeet that she brought everywhere with her. Including my dinners). I had plenty of left-overs, but not for long. ANd the sweet country cooks in the kitchen at the school just LOVED me because i was the only one who bragged and bragged on their cooking. Daily. ANd it was soooo good. Not the stuff kids get slung on their plates usually. But homemade chicken pot pie, brocolli casserole, real sweet potatoes with some delctable nutty crunch topping, and PIE. YES!! seriously, they made pies and cakes for the kids and the teachers every day. Used real butter too. LOADS of it. I think one day I saw the dairy truck back up with a "BEEP BEEP BEEP" and a ramp slid out with crate after crate of one pound blocks of butter by the dozens. And to complete the picture for you, at th end of my work day, I could always count on Mawmaw Jane to be waiting with a sack of "just a little something to keep you from having to cook for just one, honey." Leftovers of the day. but 2 servings of pie. That woman is still in my will I think. Better check.
I carried extra weight until some neighbor had mercy on me and told me about a diet she had been on and she looked wonderful. She was eating and still losing. And even though she had 4 kids and was married, she befriended me and made me her project. And got me SO involved in projects around town, one of which I loved and still do to this day. Acting in community theeater and singing. Yes, under this fat is the soul of Patsy Cline. I dont know how she managed it, but maybe on one of those lonely night I spent crying myself to sleep, she crawled right into my soul and vocal chords and when I sang it sounded so much like her that i soon became a hit in this one-horse, no stoplight little town. AND then the neighboring towns, and then a big town heard about the "fat girl with the pretty face that can sing her behind off" and I wasnt lonely at night anymore. And I felt loved and needed, and I began to LOSE WEIGHT!! that lasted from 1982, married my blind date in '85, and continued to be active and still cook and sing and act. BUt then....
Then one morning I couldnt get out of bed. The pain that seized my back was so intense it took my breath away. I yelled for my husband who was getting ready to leave for work and he carried me to the car and put me in and i bellowed and cried in pain all the way. Tests and xrays later revealed I had two deteriorated discs in my lower spine and something called Spondylolythesis. I began epidurals for pain, but surgery was out of the question. I just needed to exercise and protect my back. Guess which one I decided to do and forget the other. Yep, the old Yaya reared her ugly fat head and soon i was "protecting my back" by being inactive and eating as much as I had before, for "comfort". And soon I had gained back over half of the 133 pounds I had lost before. Now add another 20 since my mom died 2 years ago. The hole was back with a vengence. I was desperate to find something to help me control this ravenous "hunger" (appetite)and it seemed NOTHING could fill this hole. Which grew with several miscarriages, 2 botched adoptions, and my dear husband who closed the door to any more heartbreak where kids were concerned. Not even foreign adoption. Bigger hole, more weight. I was, and am still as I write this, miserably sad with my life and situation. But blissfully hopefully for tomorrow, when I heard about Lap Banding. I think lifes going to change for Yaya.