Talking Bobbins Again ...

"Blythe walked around the tree 149, 674 times just to enjoy a jaffa cake"

Apologies for the late posting, no I’ve not fallen off the wagon again, simply had an uber-busy weekend.

So what’s new pussycat? Not a lot really. I’ve been managing to eat a little more again this week – I feel physically dreadful if my calories drop below 1200 a day now. I have no energy, I feel light-headed, I become an evil moo … the list goes on. However, I am still managing to lose a steady 2lbs a week and I know this is simply down to the equation of food consumed versus energy expended. Some days it’s easier to eat than others and I have noticed two things that will make me PB more than anything:
1, Letting myself go for too long without eating resulting in me chomping my meals down too quickly and not listening to my body enough to recognise my own fullness.
2, Being distracted whilst I eat. This can be watching the telly or simply trying to eat whilst talking.

Since my mega restriction of the summer I have had to give up eating at the dining room table. I was taking far too long to eat, the other half would feel the need to chat throughout dinner and then I would become quite self-conscious and stressed, making eating even more difficult. I am so much better if I eat on my own and, if anything, I am aware I am becoming far less inclined to eat with friends and I certainly actively avoid eating out at all now, which is a real shame. I’m hoping that when I have lost some more weight and the band inevitably loosens off again (which it seems to be doing a little bit, on some days, but only if there’s an R in the month, a three quarter moon in the sky, Leo is in alignment with Mercury and I am wearing my lucky pumps), that I’ll be able to be a little more sociable. The problem is that some of my friends have started to suspect that I am losing weight by becoming bulimic – which isn’t an ideal situation and lead me to disclosing my bandy status when I would have preferred to have kept it private.


I have started to get the, “you don’t need to lose anymore weight” comments and, frankly I’m finding it really difficult to deal with. On one hand I find it offensive that people feel they have the right to make that sort of comment and, on the other hand, I question their motives and whether I am at an acceptable weight.

My BMI is currently 27.8 and I would like to get my BMI to around 23.5 which would make me 9 stone 10lbs. To even get my BMI out of the overweight category I would need to lose another 12lbs anyway. My goal had always been to get under a BMI of 25 and I think it is entirely achievable with the balance of exercise and food intake that I have at the moment.

My strategy that I have taken to using with people who don’t know me all that well is to smile sweetly and agree with them. I just say I am trying to maintain my weight now. That seems to shut them up. Only the inner circle – you guys included - know my true intentions *lets rip evil cackle*.

Am I being too obsessive about this though? I was accused of suffering exercise bulimia by a ‘concerned acquaintance’!! I had to stifle a giggle at this though and I did have a look on the webbernet about it. Here’s what I found and my response to it!

“Exercise bulimia is classified as a non-purging form of bulimia - that is to say, the sufferer does not regularly engage in self-induced vomiting or the misuse of laxatives, diuretics or enemas to rid themselves of the food ingested, but only uses exercise as a method of compensation. Exercise bulimia is especially common in those who find it difficult to purge (i.e. vomit/use laxatives), and in men with eating disorders. It is often seen as a 'healthy' method of compensation. However, the effects of excessive exercise (both psychologically and physically) should not be underestimated, and excessive exercise should not be seen as a safe alternative to vomiting/fasting in those tackling eating issues.

Compulsive exercisers will often schedule their lives around exercise just as those with eating disorders schedule their lives around eating (or not eating). Other indications of compulsive exercise are:

1 - Missing work, parties or other appointments in order to work out
2 - Working out with an injury or while sick
3 - Becoming unusually depressed if unable to exercise
4 - Working out for hours at a time each day
5 - Not taking any rest or recovery days
6 - Striving to achieve and master ever more difficult challenges. Forgets that physical activity can be fun.
7 - Defining self-worth in terms of performance
8 - Justifies excessive behavior by defining self as a "special" elite athlete”
(Taken from Wikipedia)

I’m not actually getting my knickers in a twist about this but I was interested that I hadn’t transferred my obsessions about food onto exercise. I don’t think I need to be worried. Here’s the reality of my exercising:

1 - I have never missed anything in favour of exercising (the thought seems utterly ridiculous to me)
2 - If I so much as sneeze I use it as an excuse to put my jimjams on early and take to the sofa like a mini-Buddha.
3 - Sometimes I feel depressed because I know I SHOULD be exercising but can't be arsed!
4 - Ok, that one can get a little close to home but, I now follow a specific training schedule that means I don’t allow myself to walk for longer than an hour a night in the week.
5 - Umm, take plenty of rest days – today for instance. I enjoyed resting in bed and not swimming this morning!
6 - I strive to fit some exercise into my week CONSISTENTLY and that is a difficult enough challenge to achieve.
7 - No-one actually cares about how much I exercise so I definitely don’t define my self-worth by it.
8 - HAHAHA, special athlete?? Me?? Now that’s just too funny.

I think we can safely conclude that I don’t have exercise bulimia. That’s not to say that I don’t legitimize what I do eat with how much exercise I have done. I ‘earned’ myself a Twirl and 2 packets of Skips yesterday and jolly happy about it I was too!

If anything I am only able to incorporate exercise that I actually enjoy doing and if I try and push myself too hard, well, this un-sporty person simply gives up. I am more interested in not being left with oodles of saggy skin and boobs like a pair of deflated, 4 day old, birthday balloons.

So there you have it. I am still hanging in there with my band and I still PB on a far more regular basis than I know is strictly advisable. But, (ok, this is going to make me sound very weird) but I can definitely distinguish between two very different types of PB. One that offends me and one that (and this is the weird part) that I don’t mind at all. The first type of PB is the nasty, slime making, run for the loo type of PB. Often accompanied by discomfort and retching, sometimes violent, sometimes not too bad. The second type is what I refer to as, “chewing the cud”. This seems to happen at most meals if I am honest, and is only a tiny bit of chewed up food that comes back up, no slime, and once re-chewed goes down again without a problem. This is never unpleasant, no-one notices that it is happening, there’s no tightness in my chest and frankly, I quite enjoy it – especially if I’ve been eating chocolate. What an admission! I am clearly a repulsive individual who will burn in the devil’s own flaming diner!

I think I need to stop typing now before I disclose ALL of my secrets!

Onwards and downwards.

Saturday Update

"Blythe realised there were only 2 months left 'till Christmas"

Well, this has been an up and down week again. My restriction is a daily changing entity. There seems no rhyme or reason to it. Chicken has been difficult again and I even managed to PB my smoothie. I have a student on placement with me at the moment and I had to endure the embarrassment of pulling the car over and 'sliming' at the side of the road.

I should realise that rushing makes me stressed and completely incapable of judging when enough's enough. It's a funny old world. Still I managed a Stirling effort with the over-eating of Cadbury's Roses. They were an unexpected thank-you gift - a large tin. I inputted the amount I'd scoffed onto the website I use and nearly fell over when I realised that the 25 sweeties I'd just eaten came in at an incredible 1700 calories. Bugger. Not quite sure what I expected but it was definitely under 800 cals. I clearly have a chocolate calorie delusion going on!

Roses aside, I have been a bit of a pig this week - not sure why, I'm never really sure why at the best of times. I suppose having a student shadowing your every move for 3 months is a bit of a strain. My boss is on holiday and I have been deputising in her absence. This is never a good move - I couldn't manage a piss-up in a brewery. Still only a week to go. Interestingly my weight loss has been quite significant this week - despite the pigging. I am now 11 stone 8lbs. Amazing. But, I am well aware that this is only possible due to me sticking to my exercise regime.

I am trying to not be so 'all or nothing' in my approach to exercise. It's really tricky for me but I am uncovering a few 'tricks' that seem to work. For instance I often fall fowl to intrusive thoughts regarding bingeing. These were always my downfall as I'd mither about what I was going to pig on and not be able to concentrate on anything else. One trick is to make myself drink one of my smoothies on the journey home. By the time I'm back the fruit's natural sugar seems to be kicking in and then I feel motivated to get changed and go for a walk. I am also practising the mantra, "something is better than nothing" where exercise is concerned. Ordinarily, when I am in a bingey mood I won't be motivated to exercise. Now, I tell myself that I only need to walk for half an hour and normally, by the time I'm back, the need to binge is lessened (although not always gone) and I feel pleased with myself for actually making it out. Another trick is not to have unrealistic aims - something which I am renowned for when it comes to my own weight control. I am limiting how much I am exercising and even enforcing a 'rest' day, this is quite difficult as I then have to limit my food intake much more dramatically to stick to the 1100 calories I am allowed without the exercise. Some days I do great, others not so great. But, hey, that's life I suppose.

So there we have it. Let's hope the mantra is still working next week ;)

Onwards and downwards.

The Corpse Couple

Before the Party

A very quick post today - I have a hangover. These are photos of Jack and I dressed up for a Halloween fancy dress party. Very silly but also very good fun - something I wouldn't have dared to do 12 months ago.

Spooky picture before the guests arrived

I had eaten a sherbet Lolly to give myself a green mouth! Well that was my excuse for eating it!

Weight-wise I am 11.12lbs - very happy. Band-wise it's still up and down but, I have found that I can eat certain makes of pre-cooked, flavoured, chicken breasts. I've eaten a pack for lunch every day this week with only a couple of PBs - mainly when I've eaten too fast and not chewed properly. It takes a whole afternoon to eat a pack but, it seems to help with the hunger pangs and it's soooooo nice to eat meat. I am such a carnivore!

Never mind, I'm chuffed at how things are going again and I even had a pig-fest on Friday night! Onwards and downwards.

The Corpse Couple after too many glasses of wine (uhuh - I hadn't realised I'd managed to drink my make-up off!)

Protein and Bingeing

"Go on - You know you want me"

Just a quickie really. I've had a bit of a bingey couple of days. The desire to binge is always so strong and I constantly just feel a chocolate bar away from a full-on wagon-fall. However, I am doing something that I have always shy-ed away from - recording exactly how much I consume in a binge. Even when I was I was having CBT for my eating issues I just couldn't bring myself to commit the truth to paper. Who exactly was I fooling? Anyway, I'm trying not to dwell on past negatives.


So I am now recording (on that website I previously mentioned), everything that passes my lips. Everything. And boy is it an eye-opener. Not just because I am more aware of how much I must have been consuming pre-band but, also because the website has a nifty function that gives you a daily nutritional profile. It gives you a pie-chart of the percentage of your daily intake you have got from protein, carbs, fat, alcohol etc. On the whole I favour carbs over protein and fats. To the point where my fat is low but so is my protein. It is certainly helping me be a little more sensible (on the whole) and try and get a more balanced intake.


I still love my crapolla. I think I need to 'schedule' a pig-out at least once a week to feed my demons. By looking back on my food and exercise diaries on the website, I have noticed the pattern of a Saturday night pig-fest. What I did this week and last, was to cut back on the calories in the day - but making sure what I did have was from high protein and fruit (a bit of chicken, boiled egg and fruit smoothie) and then I allowed myself a tube of Jaffa Cakes, an Ice Cream Mars and 4 packets of Skips.


The other side of the equation was I have been exercising daily. Yesterday I did a long walk (10 miles - my longest yet) which sounds excessive but, was thoroughly invigorating - and bear in mind I am training to walk a marathon. Having 'earned' my pig-fest, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Yes, I feel guilty and quite greedy. But, at least I don't have the overwhelming thought that, "I've blown it now, I may as well eat what I want today because I can't possibly start my 'diet' again until Monday" (Why can diets only start on a Monday? Is that just me and my ridiculous concrete thinking?). So today I am having my full calorie allowance, going for a gentle ramble with my best mate and will make healthier choices in what I do eat.


If I sound smug, I really don't mean to. It is a precarious line that I walk and I know that I easily stray. But, those are my intentions for today.


Right I'm off to do a shop now - need some strawberries for my smoothies :)
Onwards and downwards.

The Corpse Bride

"Mmm decomposition seems a drastic way to lose weight"

So… How are things going this week?

Well, my weight is down to 12 stone again … so tantalisingly close to being 11 stone something that it almost hurts! I haven’t been 11 stone something since June 1998. How sad is that that I can actually remember? Hopefully by next week I’ll have broken through that barrier – it’s as much psychological as anything else.


It’s been an up and down week bandwise. I think work stresses and lady hormones have had a big part to play in the inevitable tightening of the band .. It kind of shocks me now that I wanted tight restriction, I remember the dietician saying that after my last fill that I may not manage solid food until the evening and I remember thinking that it would be ok. The reality is that I couldn’t possibly live without eating all day – it drives me quite, quite mad.

Some days I wonder whether the band has actually been a sensible decision, mainly when I have my head down the loo having eaten a crumb too quickly ;) I am very much split in whether the band is actually a good idea or not – especially for someone like me who has deep rooted, binge eating behaviour. I have found that my binge eating has morphed into a whole raft of other impulsive behaviours and the head stuff is a much greater aspect of my obesity than I ever realised. I am managing (most of the time) now to not go on ridiculous spending sprees or to drink 2 bottles of red wine of a Saturday (completely out of character for me – I really couldn’t give a sod about booze normally). But it is food for thought, if you’ll pardon the pun.

I suppose my concern about the band is that when I struggle with sensible food, I get so frustrated that I go straight to the rubbish. In a way, I am more at risk of eating unhealthily than I was before the band – it was just the volume of food – healthy or not – that I ate that was the problem. Now I can still eat a substantial volume of crappola but not of healthier, more natural stuff. In the summer this was a real issue for me and I must say that it takes all of my willpower to make myself persevere with the healthy stuff. Also my hair started to come out in handfuls in the summer – another thing that really got me down. I don’t think that it was any coincidence that it happened when my diet was poor and that it has stopped now that I have really tightened the reigns on the nonsense.

This is my strategy in the week:
Breakfast: 1 Oatabix, 30g prunes (cut up into little bits), 100ml of warm semi-skimmed milk.
Lunch: 1 bowl of homemade soup – I am trying to cram in my vegetables in this way where possible.
Snack: 1 multi-pack of snack-a-jacks.
Mid-afternoon: A home-made smoothie made from a low-fat yogurt and 3 portions of different fruit.
Dinner: A small portion of a sensible dinner with lots of protein – blended up so that I can actually eat it all.
Supper: A slice of cake, a bar of chocolate or something else nice.

My calorie intake is roughly 1300-1500 calories a day (dependent on the amount of crapolla scoffed at night) but I am trying to do 700 calories worth of exercise a day so that I can eat the crap and still lose weight every week.

If I am honest with myself, I know I wouldn’t have lost the amount that I have and not put it all back on already if it wasn’t for the band. But, I am finding it difficult to compromise, especially when the urge to pig is strong. Still, I think I am lucky to have a level of restriction that I can (just about) live with. Clearly the exercise is the key to consistent weight loss and I need enough food to be able to do that without putting my body into starvation mode. My ultimate aim is to be able to eat 2000 calories a day and have a level of exercise that isn’t extreme and feels fun to do AND to maintain my weight. So I guess what I actually want is to be ‘normal’.

My head issues are sometimes a little out of control at the moment – not just the head hunger but, the obsessing about my weight and compulsively trying to work out how much I will weigh in 3 months time if I lose an allotted amount each week. For me this is a bit of a warning sign because I will get frustrated when I don’t achieve the self-imposed targets. I find myself fantasising that I will be 10 stone by February (a year since having the band fitted) and this is not really the best way for my mind to wander. Actually, just committing it to the blog is probably a good start. I must try not to become blinkered!

Something that kind of demonstrates that my head is a bit lala at the moment is my overly-optimistic guesstimating of what size dress I may actually be. I am going to a fancy dress birthday party next Saturday and the theme is Halloween, given the time of year. The hosts have warned everyone to actually make an effort with their costumes and, 12 months ago I would have made up an excuse not to go. This year I am actually quite excited. That was until I started to put together my costume and realised I was becoming somewhat deluded at what size I am. I am going as the Corpse Bride and have got my wig, body paint, bouquet and had bought a cheap, second hand wedding dress from ebay. Let’s just say that I am NOT a size 14. The only way that dress will do up is if I have several ribs removed and both my bosoms made into shoulder pads! But I do have a plan and it involves elastic, d-rings and lots of ribbon. I may actually be brave and post a picture of myself in the costume next week. Watch this space.

Onwards and downwards.

High-Ho, High-Ho, It's Earning Calories I Go

Blythe was disgusted that the same picture had been used twice!

Howdy folks :)

Well, I haven’t done very well with updating the blog weekly. Ooops. Still, here goes.

Weight: 12.2lbs.
Weight lost since last post: 6lbs – (rather chuffed with that)
Total Weight loss since per-op diet: 4 stone 1lb.


I am still managing (somehow) to cling to the ‘losing side’ and I’m having to really pay attention to my horrendous ‘all or nothing’ attitude. This is how I am doing it at the moment. Don’t get me wrong, I am having good and bad days but, the good days are more frequent and the bad days aren’t quite so extreme. There is no doubt about it – I can categorically state that I am an emotional eater and this is sometimes scuppering the best laid plans. Sorry, I digress.

One thing I did when I had my recent epiphany at the obesity clinic, was to join a calorie counting website. There are many out there but, I am finding the weight loss resources site (http://www.weightlossresources.co.uk/) an absolute eye opener. The only downside is that is subscription only but, after I did the 3 day free trial, I was hooked!

The reason it’s been an eye-opener is that it works out the calories in any exercise that you do and then ‘credits’ your daily calorie allowance with them. Finally I have realised my biggest downfall. I was cutting my calories to around the 1200 per day mark and was then doing shed loads of exercise and not adjusting my intake accordingly. The result? I was knackered all the time and the exercise was feeling punishing. Over the last 2 weeks I have lost 6lbs on around 1700 calories a day. Those extra 500 calories are keeping me sane! Ridiculous, I know, but I feel no guilt when I eat my ‘naughties’ because I have, quite literally earned them. It’s also so much easier to keep track of what I am eating as I can update my ‘diary’ online at any time. Marvellous.

I’m somebody who cannot rely on the band to monitor my intake, which I know is the point of the band, but, I hate having tight restriction. In the initial weeks leading up to the operation and the first months after, having good restriction was my Holy Grail. However, once I’d achieved that, the realisation of such limited options, coupled with my inability to eat ANYTHING even remotely healthy without PBing for Britain, sent me spiralling into a really dark place. I was trying to give my body the nourishment that it needed and it was doing the exact opposite of what I wanted, i.e. only allowing me to eat the easy crap. I just didn’t have the mental energy to fight it in the summer and got lazy.

My restriction is as unpredictable as the weather. I immediately know the days when it is tight as I have heart burn from the moment I wake up. However, stress plays a major part in this and, unfortunately for me, I am not as laid back as I have always thought myself to be. Clearly I strive to project laid back confidence and am good at that, except for all that tension/frustration/irritation just gets ‘internalised’ and I eat to cope. Now the eating part is so limited, those feelings seem to tighten my band as tight as a cat’s bum-hole. This is the part that has caused so much of my difficulties.

Take this for starters. I have had a truly impossible case at work. This guy has an alcohol addiction, had been dry for 18 months, and basically if he drinks alcohol again he will be putting his health in grave danger. Anyway, the long and short of it was that he had started drinking again (110 units PER DAY – I had to work it out), and we don’t see people who are actively drinking in our service. I was trying to fight this guy’s corner as I knew that the consultant would simply discharge him and I didn’t feel we had given him a fighting chance. It was hugely stressful for me personally as every time he talked about his addiction, I could have swapped the word ‘drinking’ for ‘eating’ and it was like hearing myself trying to describe my issues with food. I am not an alcohol worker, the situation was less than ideal and working with people with addictions is about as far away from my expertise as I can get. Anyway, as the law of sod would have it, he lived opposite a McDonalds Drive-Thru. I am not a fan of McDonalds. I found myself there after every session, desperately trying to stuff fries, nuggets, anything down my neck. Nothing would stay down – not even a chuffing McFlurry. Yet, I still tried. It was my low-point.

I have stopped fighting my band now. Ok, to get my protein and vegetables in, I have to blend my bloody dinners. They still don’t always go down. It can take me 2 days to eat a small, blended portion of chilli and roast vegetables. I managed to PB on soup Wednesday lunchtime – go figure?
I miss my ability to calm myself down with food. I dread eating out and want to kill my colleagues when they insist on trying to have a conversation with me when I am trying to eat some lunch.

Yet the crapola just slips down…. Grrrrr :(

Sorry I am being a moaner now. I’m actually in fine fettle this week, but there is definitely a grieving process that I am going through in terms of my lifestyle changes. Luckily being able to fit into a pair of size 14 Gap jeans seems to be making up for it!

Have a good week and onwards and downwards.

Missing In Action

Ok, I am rubbish. I apologise for the lack of posting but I really, really fell off the wagon. I am a bugger because when I am 'good' I feel I can post. When I am 'bad', I just can't face what I am doing. Perhaps I should change my name to Ostrich Drama ;)


So ... here goes. These are the facts that I have discovered about myself and my band over the past 3 months:

• I can put on weight very easily - even with the band.
• I have emotional eating issues that I need to get a handle on (no shit Sherlock!)
• I am more likely to binge if my band is too tight - strange, moi?

So, how on earth have I managed to put on weight with the band? Surprisingly easily as it happens. My need to binge has absolutely nothing to do with physical hunger nor is it placated by feelings of fullness. This is an extremely scary conclusion that has taken months of 'hand-wringing' to reach.

My weight shot back up to 13 stone just prior to my second (and last) fill. I got a right royal bollocking from the radiologist - because, clearly, I wasn't pissed off with myself enough. He filled me as tight as a drum and I began back on my home-made smoothies and soup for a week. However, when I tried to introduce solids back, nothing would stay down. This is where the emotional eating really kicked in. I was so frustrated and generally fed up that I ended up completely cheating and eating all the easy crapolla again. Result? 3 weeks after I had the fill I was 13 1/2 stone. Marvelous. Well done me. I resorted back to full on couch potato mode and didn't swim or walk for 2 months.

So where am I now? Well, I have been getting my head round some of my issues and have forced myself to try and eat decent, nutritious food again. My band has loosened off again and, although it can be a frustrating struggle, I am making myself eat the sensible stuff before I let myself have an element of crapolla. I started swimming again and am training for the MoonWalk. So my weight is back down to 12 stone 8lbs and I feel a whole lot better.

Something else happened that gave me the psychological jolt that I needed. I had been referred back to the dreaded Obesity Clinic. It just so happened that it coincided with the height of my binge induced madness. I saw the consultant for the first time and had put on weight from the previous month's appointment. He calculated that I had actually lost 60% of my excess weight and should therefore view the operation as a success. He then went on to lecture me on accepting that I would never weigh less than 13 stone and putting my energy into simply maintaining my weight. He instructed me not to lose weight but to maintain my weight at 13.5lbs for the next month.

Now, call me contrary. Call me a deluded fool. Just don't tell me that I am not allowed to do something. I can't accept that I am going to be 3 stones overweight for the rest of my life. It simply isn't an option. So, yep, that was the morning that I got back with the programme. I can see he was trying to speak sense. I know that my personal expectations are, at times, totally unrealistic. So this is my revised aim:

1. To get to 10 and a half stone in the next 6 months.
2. To swim every morning before work - I can spend an hour in traffic or an hour in the pool. No contest really.
3. To walk the MoonWalk in May 2008.
4. To update my blog once a week.

Clearly the exercise has to be a priority and I need to find a way to reach a balance between not being obsessive about the amount that I 'should' do (ie. I was setting myself stupid targets like, 6 mile walks every day and 2 hours swimming 5 days per week - I know, I know - absolutely ridiculous) and not doing any at all in my own twisted rebellion at the harsh regime. So I have cut the swimming down to an hour maximum in the morning and am following a specific training plan with my walking that is sooooooooo much more realistic.

I'll try and update the blog every weekend now - warts and all. It's funny really that the band itself has taken a back seat to all these other issues. I don't regret it at all - I am so much lighter and fitter - but it has also forced me to confront the reality that my over-eating is a symptom of a much more complex problem. The problem being how I deal with life and my feelings about it. And I suppose that, ultimately, that can only be a good thing.

Altogether now, Onwards and downwards (except in a more thoughtful and somewhat more sensible way)!

No More Moaning

"Blythe eyed up the Cadburys Caramel lustily"

Week 16
Weight: 12 stone 2lbs
Weight loss: 4 stone 1lb

I just wanted to do a quick post but, given just how grotty and moany my last couple of posts were, I thought it might be nice to be a bit more positive. Aaaanyway, I have managed to get myself much more together this week. I started walking again on Sunday and have been everyday this week (although the sheep have gone :( not sure where, actually I can have a good guess but, it doesn’t bear thinking about really. That reminds me, must get some mint sauce…. KIDDING ;)

Also I have been swimming every morning. I actually look forward to getting up at 5.45am and going for a swim (sadist) but, the biggest advantage has been how much it has improved my concentration at work. Instead of needing an hour to really ‘get going’, now I am able to get straight down to business and faff a whole lot less.

I went to see the dietician tonight; she was pleased with my progress and has booked me in for my next fill on the 27th June. That will be 10 weeks from the first ‘uber-fill’ and should give me good restriction for much longer, although she reckons that it will remain and I won’t need another fill with any luck.

As for my current restriction, well it has totally gone but, I am going to take advantage of it and eat tonnes of meat, fruit and veg. Well, okay, I suppose I should admit that I have added a bar of dairy milk or caramel to my daily allowance. I was just starting to feel a tad deprived.

Right, it’s Friday night and not the time to be sitting in front of the pc methinks.

Onwards and downwards.

Ooops I Did It Again

Week 15
Weight: 12stone 8lbs
Weight gain: 7lbs

Sorry for going AWOL. As you can probably guess I’ve been quite a badly behaved, one woman, eating machine. I can’t really begin to say why as I hardly know myself. I’m not going to go on and on about it but, suffice to say, I seemed to have a fortnight of rebellion.

What’s the most interesting is that my restriction seems to have disappeared but, will catch me out with something totally innocuous in a completely random way. For example, I’ve been able to eat anything and everything and then on Wednesday night I had half a vegetable crisp-bake and spent the next three hours bringing up literally pints of gunk. Horrible.

Anyway, I’ve been a lot better the past couple of days but, it seems once I start on the cycle of sweet stuff I lose the plot. So I am weaning myself off it again. It’s funny because I’ve eaten all the things that I fancied and to be perfectly frank, nothing tasted as good as I thought it would.

I have an appointment with the dietician on Friday and I will be booking in my next fill I hope. I don’t want it for another 4 weeks though as I have a weekend away in June with friends who know nothing of the band, so I don’t want to give the game away.

Right, I’m off for a walk with my mate (I haven’t walked for 10 days – I really have been on a rebellion!).

I’ll post more later on this week.

Onwards and downwards.

The Struggle Continues

"Blythe got up, put on her dressing gown and accepted that today was a brand new day"

Golly, 3 posts in 3 days. Clearly I am a bit rattled ;)

After waxing lyrical about my ‘plan’ that I follow in the week at work. I thought it only right and fair to balance this out with just how spectacularly I can fall off the wagon when I don’t have enough to do. I’ve mentioned many a time what a nemesis the TV is for me and any semblance of my eating in a controlled way. Well, yesterday I not only fell off the wagon, but, I was dragged screaming behind it for a good couple of miles, hitting every boulder on the way!

So here we go again … let me recap. I have an addiction. I am a food addict. The learned doctors labelled me with the diagnosis of ‘Binge Eating Disorder’ many moons ago. This, in layman’s terms means that I eat over and above what a ‘normal’ person would eat in one sitting but, I don’t purge (get rid of the food and/or calories) as someone with Bulimia would. I personally feel that many, if not the majority of people with chronic obesity have the same disorder.

Along with this compulsion that I have to binge, I am afraid that I suffer with what I can only describe as ‘black and white’ or concrete thinking with regards to food and exercise. In other areas of my life I am as flexible as a Russian Olympic gymnast. With food, I can be ritualistic, negative and completely self-destructive. As a therapist by profession, I am often filled with feelings of hypocrisy that I have difficulty in getting ‘my own house in order’ when I am able to facilitate my patients and families to reach their goals, despite them being extremely poorly. The plus side to this, I guess, is that I have the insight of my professional knowledge to use on myself when I feel emotionally robust enough to do so.

So what happened? Well, the day started off well enough. I was up early, wrote up my blog, showered and dressed, read the papers and then had a walk up to my mom’s house for a brunch-time smoothie. I had intended to stay on liquids for the day as my ribs felt like someone had punched me in them after the boiled egg incident the day before. I had a lovely time with my mom, as I always do and, on the way home, I incorporated my normal route power-walk. I didn’t attempt any running today – just didn’t think my poor bust would be able to take it ;)

I got home and Jack was around at a friend’s watching the football. I was invited to go but, ironically didn’t want to as they always try and feed us with naughty crapola. So that left me with the house to myself. It was at this point that the crapola devil appeared on my left shoulder, whispering sweet nothings in my ear. Funnily enough, St Bandy, the guardian angel of weight loss surgery who normally resides on my right shoulder, was clearly having an off-day. The battle between good and evil was a brief one and the crapola devil knocked St Bandy out in the opening seconds of the initial round.

Now, the house had no crapola in it that I could eat. Sure, there were plenty of Jack’s coffee cakes and Battenberg but, of course they are purchased deliberately because I hate them. So, by now in full-on, ‘planning a binge’ mode, I toddle off to the local shop. I bought everything that was wrong. Things that would go through the band without too much bother, uhuh, that’s right, all that highly processed, high fat, high sugar nonsense.

I then proceeded to eat as much of it as I could, yes I slimed a couple of times, but blow me if I didn’t just keep going. I wasn’t able to eat anywhere near as much as I would have pre-band but, the intentions and the calories were still there.

I fell into bed on a complete, brain addled, sugar induced ‘high’ and woke this morning with those, all to familiar feelings of shame, disappointment and anger at myself for being so weak willed. However, this is where the work needs to be done. Ordinarily, pre-band, I would be on this binge journey for days, weeks, even months, having been dieting successfully and then falling off the wagon. In this time all the weight lost would go back on and the cycle of despair (melodramatic, moi?) would start all over again. This is how the band seems to help me now. I am able to dust myself off and get back in the saddle again so much more quickly. Yes, my head is telling me this morning to eat nothing but dust and water for a week to counteract the damage but, I am going to be sensible. I have put the remainder of the crapola in a carrier bag, opened all of the packets and poured washing up liquid all over it. It’s a waste but, it’s the only way I know to stop myself from obsessing over it and getting it out of the bin and eating it.

I am telling myself that today is a day independent of the events of yesterday. I am erasing yesterday from my mind now. Today I will nourish my body with wholesome foods and strengthen it with exercise that I actually enjoy. That means no running (don’t actually enjoy it and am only doing it because I feel forced to run The Race for Life in June) and just power-walking which I do find pleasurable.

I am going to sort out our office/grown-up’s playroom. There’s a set of bookshelves that should keep me busy for a few hours.

So the struggle continues. Onwards and downwards.

Some People ...

"Blythe decided listening to the seashell was preferable to listening to people"

People are strange creatures…

Today I came across the first negativity to my weight loss, being banded and my weight loss goal. Where did this happen? In a club? In a ‘skinny-Minnie’ clothes shop? At the gym? Nope. It was at my local weight loss surgery support group. Now before you think I am about to slate the support group, I am not. The support group is run brilliantly by one of the loveliest ladies I’ve met on my journey and the structured part of the group is always facilitated with sensitivity and tact. I am committed to attend every month, despite this month’s experience. So what happened? Perhaps I am being too sensitive, it has been known ;) but, at the time, I just felt the comments I received where mean and bloody ignorant.

There were only a couple of familiar people there that I knew (and a big shout out to them :) and the rest of the group was made up of people I hadn’t met before. There were 5 banders that I hadn’t met and it was from a couple of them that the comments came. I’m not sure if they were intended to be malicious, I hope not, I’m telling myself that they were just thoughtless and ignorant.

You tell me. Am I over-reacting?

The first comment happened just after I arrived. One of the banders looked me up and down (I kid you not) and then said, in what I can only describe as a hostile tone, “Well you didn’t have the band on the NHS did you?” What the f**k is that supposed to mean? That I only had it done out of vanity, as a cosmetic procedure? That, because I wasn’t prepared to put on the extra 4 stone to get my BMI over 50, and get local funding, I am somehow less deserving of being banded? I have to say I was really taken aback by this comment and I found myself trying to justify why I had paid privately for the band. She continued to be hostile, either talking over me or ignoring me, for the rest of the meeting. Some people!

The reality of my journey leading up to the band was not an easy one, it certainly wasn’t a decision made out of vanity and being banded, whilst being the best decision I ever made, isn’t the easy-option. The decision to be banded was my ‘last chance saloon’ and it came after 2 years of increasing health problems:

Gynaecological problems: In August 2005, after a year of having extremely irregular and absent periods, I started to bleed. Not just bleed but, quite literally flood. I couldn’t be further than 45 minutes away from a toilet at any time. I would be on a home visit to a patient and just know what was happening, the humiliation. I couldn’t really sleep for more than a couple of hours at a time without waking up in a pool of blood. This went on for 15 months with little more than a day here and there without the flooding. I spent a good 3 months trying to get help from the GP, who was convinced it was down to my obesity (and, yes in part, they were right). However I was scared out of my mind thinking the worst. Eventually I had the scans, hormone tests, etc and I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS). I was started on 3 different pills for this, 2 to try and stem the bleeding and 1 for the PCOS itself (Metformin). Unsurprisingly I was also severely anaemic so they added an iron supplement too. I was told that I needed to lose weight, that I wouldn’t be able to have children naturally, I would need help with conception and that they wouldn’t even consider helping me until my BMI was under 25. At the time it was 42.

Hypertension: I have always had high blood pressure, even when I am lighter and exercising it is still worryingly high. I was on 2 different pills for it by the time of my operation. My family history on my mom’s side is extremely scary with regards to heart disease. My grandmother died of heart failure in her early 30’s when my mom was 4 years old. My mom had her first heart attack when I was 3 years old, and has had several since then. Neither my mom, nor my grandmother were overweight, in fact quite the opposite. I was 33, I had a very high blood pressure and I was in the very obese category with my BMI. I was understandably concerned.

Type II Diabetes: Following on from my PCOS diagnosis, I was still feeling extremely poorly. Parts of my body were randomly swelling up like a balloon on, at least a thrice weekly basis. My face and tongue would swell up so that I had difficulty breathing and talking, my hands and arms would swell up so that I couldn’t even hold the steering wheel to drive and my feet were so swollen sometimes that it was agony even trying to walk around in the house. I was getting home from work, going to bed about 7pm and struggling to get up on time for work. I had lost my appetite (a good thing ;) and was piddling for Britain. I had recurrent thrush and my head always seemed to be pounding. My bloods showed that I had in fact developed diabetes. I’d been tried on 3 different diabetes medications, was bouncing between not wanting to eat and fighting an almost psychotic urge to eat bags and bags of boiled sweets (something that I generally don’t even like) and my blood sugars were constantly through the roof. The Tuesday prior to being banded I saw my diabetes consultant, he informed me that if I was not being banded in 2 days time that he would have started me on insulin that day. He gave me a 6 week grace period to see if the band improved the situation.

Depression: Yup, I was bloody depressed. I felt physically and mentally like crap and, what was worse, I felt that it was all my own fault and I’d brought it on myself. I felt so low at what I was putting my loved ones through and all because I was unable to control what I shoved in my pie-hole. I was on anti-depressants and I hated the fact that I relied on them. I felt I wasn’t able to do my job to the best of my ability, I had trouble concentrating and felt like I was giving all my capacity to exist, just to get through the working day and that there was nothing left over for me to live any sort of life. Many a weekend I spent in my pyjamas, too knackered to even be bothered to get dressed. The 12 months leading up to being banded were pretty grim.

I tried to get the band funded on the NHS. I jumped through all the hoops, I attended the ‘Obesity Clinic’ which, frankly was run so inefficiently that the minimum time I was sat in the waiting room was 2 hours for each appointment (the longest was 4 hours!!!). It was also run by doctors that I swear had almost no understanding of what it is like to be obese. The advice that I was given was at best cretinous and, at worse, downright negligent. I’m not going to go into details here but, suffice to say, as an educated NHS professional myself, it is my opinion that it was a noddy clinic run by noddy staff. The doctors then lied to me about putting me on the waiting list for surgery, I later found out that I wouldn’t have even been put on it until my BMI was over 50.

So, yes, I self-funded my operation. I was lucky enough that my mom had just received a modest lump sum for her retirement and she has given me an interest-free loan. Did I have the band due to my own vanity? Hell, no. Did I do it to, quite literally, save my life? Of course I did. Am I any less deserving of being banded? What do you think?

I am not on ANY of my medications now. Not one. My blood pressure is slowly getting there. It is better than when I was on any of the tablets. I have had 3 normal, monthly periods since the band. In just 13 weeks I am healthier, in my own opinion, than I have been for 10 years. I will be saving the NHS thousands of pounds in treatments and preventable illness. Ok, the plus side is that I look better and can wear smaller knickers, but that’s just an added bonus. I just wanted to feel well again.

The second comment was not said with malice at all but, it still took the wind out of my sails. It was said in a well meaning way initially but, I could sense the irritation behind it. I was asked how much more weight I want to lose. I said 2 stones. Now this is based entirely on getting my BMI under 25. If I lose 2 stones I just squeeze it under there, then I will be eligible for IVF if I need it (fingers crossed that my newly regular periods are a sign that my fertility may well be improving of its own accord).

I was told, in no uncertain terms, that I didn’t need to lose any more weight and the inference was that I was being a ‘silly girl’. The lass who was saying all this was 27 stone and I can understand that being 12 stone, for her, would be such an achievement. But, I am not her, I am me. The band is helping so much, that I want to aim to get my BMI down to about 23. And why shouldn’t I? It’s not an unhealthy or unrealistic goal. My waist measurement is still 38 inches. I am aware that, for women, anything above 35 inches is associated with increased health risks. At 9 stones, it is still 32 inches. I am an apple shape, I have no waist and I carry my excess weight around my middle. It is the first place it goes on and the last place I lose it.


Should I be vilified for wanting to get the most out of the band? I don’t want to be a size bloody zero after all. I just want to be the best me that I can be. Is that really so offensive to people?

After all that, I ended up eating my toasted egg sandwich too fast in the car park after the meeting and was a slime monster all the way home in the car. Sitting with a sandwich bag full of slime on my lap and having to pull over to be properly sick. I can honestly say it made me regret even bothering to go. But, I will return to the group. As I say, don’t let the bastards get you down. Am I being too sensitive? Am I over-reacting? You tell me.

Sorry to rant. Deep breath, onwards and downwards.

"Blythe spent far too long thinking about her 'plan'."

Week 13
Weight: 12stone 1lb
Weight loss: 4stone 2lbs

I’ve done it. I’ve broken through the 4 stone barrier. This is the lightest I have been now for 8 years. Since then I have yoyo-ed between 12½ stone and 17½ stone. I have thought for years that I would be happy to be 12 stone and I have been saying to my mom that at 12 stone I start to look normal. As one of my friends once said when I had lost a couple of stone a few years ago, “you don’t look like the fat girl anymore, just a normal girl who’s carrying a bit of excess weight”. Mmm, with friends like that eh? She kept her mouth firmly shut when I went back to being ‘the fat girl’ again.

So, in my head, I should be looking normal again – yay! I had set myself the goal of being 12 stone for my friend’s wedding next week, so only need to lose a pound this week and I’ll be there. I have to say I am working for this weight loss though. If I just relied on the band I wouldn’t have lost anywhere near as much. I’m not saying this to be boastful, far from it, but, more to demonstrate how I have been using the band as a tool.

I am still having blips. I am a sucker for crapola and am well aware that it goes through the band without any problem whatsoever. My strategy is to fill myself up on more ‘difficult’ to digest foods so that there isn’t the room for the crapola on top. It’s a struggle to be honest and some days I just can’t face the tightness in my chest feeling but, I’d say 5 out of 7 days I am being quite good. The days when I have a blip I just say to myself, “it’s just one night, swim in the morning, walk in the afternoon and stick to the plan for tomorrow”. The swimming in the morning seems to keep me on track to have a good day but, I do tend to overeat between 9 and 10:30pm at night.

I still have some restriction but, it comes and goes. For example on Tuesday night I was in full on muncharama mode. I had 12 oatcakes, small tub of humus, yogurt and a couple of ‘chocolaty bite’ mini-cakes. Ok, not a huge amount in the grand scheme of things but, it did double my calorie intake for the day from 1200 to 2400 in under an hour. The next night I had 2 oatcakes, they got stuck and I spent the whole of The Apprentice being a slime monster until I eventually productively burped them up. So the restriction is really a changing entity on a more or less daily basis.

My plan is to keep up the sensible eating and the exercise, whilst taking advantage of the reduced hunger and then use the band to help me maintain my weight. So here’s my current strategy for my weight loss. This is Monday to Friday whilst at work:

06:30-08:10 – Swim quickly and yet endeavour to keep my hair out of the chlorine water.
08:30-09:00 – Drink 2 pints (1 litre) of weak, warm, sugar-free squash.
09:00 - 1 Oatabix with 1 prune cut up into it, with 150mls of warm, skimmed milk.
10:15-12:30 - Drink 1 litre of warm squash whilst visiting my patients (need to wee quite a lot!).
12:30 - Lunch (made of ½ of previous night’s dinner).
13:30-16.30 – Drink another litre of warm squash.
16:30 - Small banana mashed with low fat yogurt (passes through band quickly for energy).
17:00 - Go for my power walk (6 miles)
19:00 - 1 litre of warm squash.
19:30 - Evening meal (½ tonight, ½ saved for tomorrow).

That’s the plan anyway. The reality is that come 9pm I am on the munch. I now save 200 calories from the day to let myself have yogurt or even a little crapola. It’s just really hard to stop eating it once I have started :(

My aim is to have between 1200 and 1400 calories a day. I am finding that being prepared is the key for me. If I have to faff about and try and think of what I am going to have for lunch, I lose it. I am so busy at work, running around like a blue-arsed fly, that I now take my 20 minutes for lunch and make myself stop and relax to eat it. If I try and rush it or if I am eating whilst writing up patient notes, or returning phone calls, then I get the golf-ball feeling in my chest. Now I actually sit at another desk, turn the radio up and have a daft gossip mag to browse through whilst I eat. My boss is so sweet, she has a friend with a band, so she fields the calls if she knows I am eating :) It makes such a difference.

I’m not perfect though but, having this routine means that, at least for the majority of the day, I don’t actually have to think about food and I eat very well. It’s just the evening that’s the problem. One of my strategies these past few days is to watch the TV only after 9pm and to watch it in bed. For some reason I am less tempted to munch and, if I do, then Jack can hear me go downstairs to the kitchen :)

Sometimes it worries me that I am such an obsessive about all of this but, I am convinced that I really need to apply a lot of mental energy in order to keep on track, ho-hum.

On a lighter note, I attempted to do some running during my power walk. This is for 2 reasons. One, my best friend and I are running the race for life on the 11th ? June (she insists that we run). And the other reason is that I want to reduce the actual time I’m out running. When I started the 6-mile route I was doing it in 1 hour 40 minutes. Now I can do it in 1 hour and 21 minutes. But, the running yesterday nearly bloody killed me. I have to wear 2 sports bras and then, when I am in the rural part of the route, I ran clutching my bosoms to try and control the bounce :) I can only run for a minute, walk for 4 minutes and I still turned into a beetroot face. I spent the time praying nobody would catch me doing the old boob clutch manoeuvre! Oh the shame.


Onwards and downwards.

I'm Back

"Blythe was impressed by the penthouse apartment"

Week 12 - Post Hen Weekend

Weight: 12stone 7lbs
Weight Lost: 3stone 10lbs

I am still alive after my biggest challenge so far, my good friend’s hen weekend. I’ve only lost a pound this week but, frankly I am impressed that I have lost even that :) I was soooo anxious about it that I will admit that I had a 3 day blip, starting on Thursday night, reaching it’s climax on Friday day and then, had a jolly good munch at the hen weekend. Despite my restriction I still managed to ‘eat around the band’ with a tonne of crapola and plenty of fluids to wash it through … why, oh why, oh why?

I was so nervous about making a spectacle of myself by getting food stuck and people finding out about the band that I went into a full-on binge mode. I’m not going to dwell on it but, at least I understand why it happened and, perhaps, I will be able to cope a little better next time round.

The hen weekend was brilliant; we rented a penthouse apartment on the waterfront in Bristol. On Saturday we went to the Thermae Spa in Bath. I was so glad I was slimmer as I was able to relax so much more at the Spa than I would have done this time last year. We went out in the evening and I did get a little trouble with my restriction. We had a set menu which was a bit of a bugger but, I managed a little starter (red pepper humus and a sweetcorn fritter), got a bit of main course down me to avoid suspicion ( 1/6 home-made hamburger with about 4 chips) but, I was defeated by the pudding. It was a chocolate fondue with strawberries, banana, meringue and marshmallows. What was the demon food that nobbled me? A bloody marshmallow!!! I was only a slimer for about 5 minutes until the marshmallow eventually took its encore and I was okay. I’d also had a problem at lunch with lentil salad but, that was at the apartment, so more easily covered.

But I survived. I only had to explain myself to 1 friend and she was totally supportive, thank heavens. Now I just need to get back on track for the wedding in 2 weeks. I am on annual leave tomorrow so I’m going shopping for my outfit. Something that I am looking forward to which is a first :)


Onwards and downwards.

Be Careful What You Wish For ...

"Blythe eyed up the ice cream van with suspicion, would the solero get stuck?"

Yep… I definitely have restriction now.


Actually that’s an understatement. I have ‘nuff restriction. It has been approximately 12 days since the uberfill and I have been on sloppies (well with the odd crunchy item here and there) for 5 days and suddenly on Friday night the restriction kicked in. I thought that it was just a fluke with the oatcakes but, it has continued all weekend and, suddenly, all these foods that were going down easily a couple of days ago are becoming downright troublesome.

Here’s an example; on Friday night I had half of a veggie crisp-bake, some roast butternut squash, roast sweet potato (all dry roasted) and a tablespoon of baked beans to moisten it all up. I divide the meal into half and put half away for Saturday lunchtime. The half that’s left is a very modest half, as the amount I start with is way less than I would have eaten prior to the band. I mash it all up and it goes down without a problem.

Later that night I have the oatcake incident and become the one-woman slime show. So I think I’ll stick to fluids for 24 hours. As I’m in manic de-clutter mode, I hardly draw air all day and am happy to sup my smoothies and soup. In the evening I try the other half of the meal from Friday. I add extra beans and whiz it up in the blender. Nope, it takes me a good hour to be able to eat just half of it. I keep getting the golf-ball feeling in the chest but, no slime.

Today, for brunch (ooooh, get me, brunch :) I managed some scrambled egg and tinned tomatoes all cooked up together with a small slice of toasted granary bread. That seems to go down ok, I’m not able to manage it all and even that is slowly, slowly but, no pain or slime.

Later on I have a packet of Ryvita Minis. I have had a couple of packets this week and have had no problem with them whatsoever before. Today? I have a couple of mouthfuls and wham! Golf ball in chest and I start to slime. What is going on? It’s so bizarre that it has taken nearly a fortnight for it to kick in.

I thought to myself tonight, “woman, take no chances”. So I stick my dinner in the blender with plenty of liquid and duly produce my new invention, Dinner Soup™. Is it going down okay? Is it hell. Only managed a bit and I’ve had to stop as my chest was getting tight.

So that’ll be my restriction then. What a shocker. I’m not sure what exactly I was expecting but, it’s a completely different ballgame. I’ve hardly eaten today. No wonder we lose weight with the band ;)

Don’t get me wrong. Having restriction is the point of having the band and I’m really pleased that it is happening but, it’s a bit of a headf**k (pardon my French). I’m going to have a Solero in bit to soothe my pouch, okay, that’s a rubbish excuse isn’t it? I’m having a Solero because I want one. In my head it’ll be soothing.

On a different note, I have the most organised out-house and under-stair cupboard that I ever seen. 5 years of avoidance and piled up junk, gone. Brilliant. I’m now tackling the wardrobe and low and behold, there must have been some cosmic restriction karma going on but, not only did I try on a pair of my old jeans to find that they are way to big (YAY!) but, I also found a £20 note in the pocket (double YAY ;)

So I guess it’s my round then? That’ll be pints of hot squash for everybody, no expense spared.

Onwards and downwards.

A Real Achievement

"Blythe wondered if she was a little over-dressed for clearing out the garden shed"

Week 11 Post-op
Weight: 12 stone 8lbs
Weight loss: 3 stone 9lbs


Ok, today I am excited about getting on the scales. I have felt thinner this week. I know that sounds quite mad but, clothes seem to be fitting more comfortably and my chins seem to be less ‘chin-ey’. So I am absolutely gob-smacked about this huge weight loss this week. This weight has enormous emotional significance to me. It was the weight I was when I first met Jack. He has always thought I was beautiful, however fat I got and he’s always told me so but, I have felt ugly. I have felt like my body belonged to an alien and over the past 3 years, as my weight slowly crept up, I have felt that if he saw or touched any of my fat bits (especially the amazing ‘big girl belly’) that he would be so physically repulsed that the last I would see of him would be his slender buttocks as he ran down the M40. Of course he is not size-ist or superficial in any way but, I do feel he has had a poor deal, as the girl he met slowly expanded into twice the woman she should have been.

It’s funny because I don’t think he remembers me any other way other than big. He looks at me and says, “You look like your old photos now”. I am one of these very apple shaped people and I carry most of my excess weight around my tummy, boobs, arms and face. In sharp contrast to this I don’t have a bottom. Well I do, it’s just very wide at the hips and flat. A bit like a stingray really :) Anyway, the point I’m trying to make is that my face seems to be changing an awful lot. One of the distressing things for me when I was bigger was that I didn’t look like ‘me’ anymore. Yes my body was different too but, it was my face that really told the story of my weight gain. Round, puffy, red and more chins than a Chinese telephone directory (sorry – old joke). As my weight goes down my normal ‘me’ face is coming back. I have cheek bones :) Okay, so they were always there but, it would have needed Tony Robinson and his Time Team’s most vigilant digging to have located them.

So why the great weight loss this past 10 days? I guess the restriction has kicked in from the fill. I have been on liquids for a week, thickened them up and am on soft foods now. I have to say that I haven’t really experienced any hunger at all, which has made a huge difference. At work, I have to really plan to ‘take 5’ and have some lunch, so much so that my boss has been nagging me that I am doing too much. Bless her; she’s like a lovely mother hen to our little team.

I have tried a couple of my normal ‘naughty’ foods that I tend to graze on when I’m bored. I am having real trouble with them now. I love oatcakes, always have, even though they are deemed ‘healthy’. However, each of the little packets contains around 6-7 oatcakes. Each box contains 4 little packets. Even post-op I could eat 2-3 little packets, which would clock up to a staggering 800+ calories. Now, I can only eat 2 individual oatcakes :o and even that is hit and miss. For example I had 2 last night and I turned into the slime monster. I wasn’t in pain but, I felt nauseous and spent an hour ‘sliming’, yuck, yuck, yuck.

So it’s back to liquids for 24 hours to let it all settle down again :( I guess that it’s going to take my head a little time to catch up with this new restriction. I am dreading the hen weekend now and for totally different reasons than I would normally dread it, i.e. I’m not dreading it because I’m so self-conscious about my weight. No, now I’m dreading it because I’m going to be spending 48 hours with close friends who don’t know I have the band. I’m worried about eating the wrong thing and being all slimy, I’m worried about the food options, and I’m worried about not boozing. I haven’t drunk any alcohol since Christmas, I’ve never really been a big drinker but, I do like the occasional blow out and it’s normally with these friends. I don’t want to actually drink though. I’ve really, really lost the taste for it and, on top of that, I’m somebody that gets the most horrendous hang-overs. In the past they’ll wake me up at 5am and I’ll be vomiting all day, every 10 minutes until, finally, exhausted I manage to not be sick for long enough to sleep it off. I’ve even pulled a muscle between my ribs from all the heaving. Not the most desirable situation with the band.


I think I’m going to play the diabetes card. They all know how poorly I was last year when I was diagnosed and I can say that I can’t drink because of all the medication that I am on. God, that’s quite funny because I’m now off ALL of my medications, every last one, as of the beginning of the month :)

Sorry I am just rambling on and on now. I'm not going to focus on what might be at the hen weekend. I am going to be a positive bird and just think about how I can plan myself to enjoy it the most. I have enough mental and physical energy at the moment to be able to do this. Another revelation with my weight loss :)

With all this new found energy I have, I am clearing the outhouse, shed and under the stairs this weekend - something that has been 5 years in waiting. The skip arrived yesterday morning and we totally cleared the one outhouse when I came back from work, makes a change form coming home, falling on to the settee and stuffing my pie-hole ;)

Onwards and downwards.

A Minor Incident - of the Chocolate Digestive Kind

"Blythe regretted using SuperGlue to attatch her false eyelashes"

Week 10
Weight: 12 stone 13lbs

Just a quick post as I’m a bit boring this week really. I am 12 stone something though so that makes up for just about anything ;)

I’m still on the liquids but I’m getting bored of them already. I have been making lovely smoothies again though. My favourite this week has been a banana, 2 peaches, a handful of strawberries and a strawberry yogurt. Stick it in a bowl and blitz until smooth … mmmmmmm. I think I’ll probably carry on making smoothies even when I’m on solids as it is such an easy way to eat a tonne of fruit. I have been finding that I’ve been getting quite tired during my walks so I’ve been drinking my smoothie about half an hour before I go and, boy, I’m like Billy bloody Whiz now.

I did have a chocolate digestive incident; actually it was an oat cake, mature cheddar cheese and onion chutney incident to be completely honest. Yep, it was over the weekend. Yep, it was late at night. And yep, I was watching the goggle box. Will I ever learn??? I really have to face up to the fact that I am a food addict and I have to work harder on controlling those nutty urges. Anyway, the band did its job. It stopped me from over-eating. Unfortunately the chocolate digestives were eaten first but, the oatcakes, now that was a whole different story. Normally I can eat them until they come out of my ears, especially before the fill. However, this time I only managed 2. I felt sick, properly nauseous and turned into the slime monster again but, I was over the moon. RESULT. This is exactly what I want the band to do :)

The other plus point is that I’m not actually hungry. I keep forgetting to eat when I’m busy at work, a totally new experience for me. Again, RESULT :)

I can’t wait for some Chilli tomorrow night … roll on the sloppies.

Onwards and downwards.

The First 'Fill'

"Blythe was perhaps a little melodramatic about her first fill"

Week 10
Weight: God knows, frankly am too scared to get on the scales!

So the first band adjustment was yesterday. Sorry I haven’t posted until now but I was working last night and have been walking and cooking soup (oh joy!). I thought I’d give a bit of a blow by blow account, just for prosperity :)

So I get to the x-ray department and am asked to strip to the waist and put a very attractive gown on. I see another lady coming out of the room and we exchange knowing looks. Yep, she’s just had her first fill too. She was very reassuring which was great as, by this point, I was feeling like a bag of eels.

In I go. There’s the consultant radiologist and a junior radiologist. They weighed me, warned me not to bang my head on the equipment and then onto the bed I jumped. I must say my dignity was preserved by the gown and a blanket. I had visions of having to do some major bosom juggling to keep everything clear but they had a good technique :)

The x-ray machine is over the bed and first of all they get you to lie on your right side and take a quick snap. It’s mad because the monitor is near your face so you have a better view than the radiologist. He pointed out the band and the port. Then you have a sip of the barium liquid (not too vile, a slight bouquet of strawberry to it, lol), hold it in your mouth until they tell you to swallow. Then swallow it whilst watching your whole oesophagus light up like Blackpool illuminations.

I can report that the pouch is not in any way stretched nor has it slipped. He asked me whether I’d been able to eat much and whether I’d been hungry. Oh yes I told him, I’ve been hungry for about a month. Apparently I had no restriction - no shit Sherlock!

He then used the x-ray to locate the centre of the port (isn’t that cheating? I saw Shaw Somers locate it by telepathy on the telly ;) He placed a little catheter thingy in the port. It didn’t hurt but, in true bizarre-me style, it totally gave me the heebie-jeebies. I can hardly bring myself to touch the port at the best of times – ridiculous aren’t I? Anyway, then he injected the saline into the catheter. Initially he gave me 6mls. Then I had to have another sip of barium and it was hilarious to watch on the monitor as it hit the band and shot straight back up. I couldn’t feel any of this but it was strangely exciting, almost like it was happening to someone else. So he took 1ml out and, that time, the barium trickled through.

I had to wait 20 minutes and drink a couple of glasses of water before they let me go. There were a couple of people waiting to go in for fills and the lady that had been in before me was still there. None of them had heard about the various forums which surprised me and all of them said that they didn’t feel they had anywhere near enough support. One lady said the band was fitted and then she’s been left to “get on with it” – I find that terrifying. Another lady had flown down from Aberdeen!

Anyway, I digress. They gave me my x-rays (didn’t tell me what I am supposed to do with them, mind), so I’ve done what any rational person would do and have scanned and defaced them for your viewing pleasure. I’m only posting the clearest one as I doubt you want to see an x-ray of my oesophagus.




All in all, not an unpleasant experience, certainly not in any way painful. I am on liquids for a week and I have some restriction. Mainly I’m noticing that I can only drink slowly and if I gulp it feels really odd.

Back to the bloody soup. Onwards and downwards.

Whoops ...

“There was a little girl, who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead,
When she was good, she was very, very good,
And when she was bad, she was horrid.”

Week (almost) 10
Weight: 13 stone 5lbs
Weight gained: 5lbs


5 packets of Ryvita minis
1 packet salt & vinegar crisps
1 tube of Jaffa cakes
1 Twirl
1 tub of humus
2 ‘lunch’ packs of oatcakes
2 slices chocolate brownie cheesecake


I have ‘last supper-itis’ …. again!

Well, if I am in any doubt as to why I needed the band, I have my answer. That little lot was on top of a healthy breakfast, lunch and tea, a mile’s swim and a 6 mile walk yesterday. I have been ‘emotionally over-eating’ again. I have my fill today and I feel like I am finally going to say goodbye to my binges – by force. I was 13 stone on Saturday. I have had a totally piggy Easter. I haven’t eaten like this since before the operation. I feel awful today and wasn’t going to blog about it as I was too ashamed. But, I have always said I would be honest in my blogging and so there you have it.


I know that today is the first fill and that first fills aren’t supposed to do much but, I am having it under x-ray and have been told that I will get quite a lot of restriction today – the equivalent of 2-3 blind fills. I have to revert back to a week on thin liquids – thickening them towards the end of the week. A week on sloppies and then I can try solids. Just in time for the hen weekend :o


I think that is why I have pushed the boundaries so much the past few days. Nothing has got stuck and I really haven’t felt full at all for weeks, so I’m hoping the pouch isn’t stretched. At least they’ll be able to see under the x-ray.


I’m extremely nervous and the ‘unhealthy’ side of my thinking almost wants such tight restriction that it’ll punish me for my lack of will-power. In almost a, “if you can’t control what you eat then I’m going to teach you a lesson in what food deprivation is really like”. Clearly, once more I am demonstrating what a bloody lunatic I am when it comes to my love-hate relationship with food.


I’ll post about what happens tomorrow as I am working until 10pm tonight running an evening group. At least it’ll keep my mind off food.


Onwards and downwards.

Splish Splash ...

"Blythe hoped her bikini bottoms wouldn't fall down when she jumped into the pool"

I did it. I promised myself that I would and I have. I have started swimming :) I know that it doesn’t sound like a big deal but I am a bugger for setting myself goals and then not meeting them. I had wanted to give myself 8 weeks to properly heal from the surgery and wanted the ‘all-clear’ from the surgeon before I embarked on this, phase 3 of ‘Operation Melondrama’. I used to swim a lot when I was in my early 20’s and, ever one not to do things by halves, I used to have sporadic bursts of exercise regimes. I would swim 2 miles a day, 5 days a week for about 10 weeks, lose a couple of stone and then start oinking, stop the swimming and put it all back on again. It is just another representation of my total ‘all or nothing’ behaviour. In my world there is only black and white. I have to really work at mentally accepting shades of grey. I’m slowly getting there but it’s a struggle - another challenge that I am working on at the moment :)


The only time I consistently swam was when I lived in the most grotty student hostel in Whitechapel, East London. The hostel was next door to the hospital’s staff swimming pool. My main motivation for going wasn’t the actual swimming, it was the showers, lol. The hostel was sooooo horrible and our showers were uni-sex. Unfortunately that meant either being spied on by the leery blokes or having to queue for an hour for the top-floor, women-only showers. At a pound a go, I refused to shower without getting my money’s worth by not swimming too. I can laugh about it now but it’s funny what we put up with when we are poor students.


Anyway, on Sunday Jack and I drove into the city and I joined the gym that is a 2 minute drive from where I work. I was determined to start swimming on Monday and I am so glad that I have taken the plunge (no pun intended :) The gym is lovely and the pool is a 20 metre one and is really clean and posh. I feel like I am at health farm when I’m there. I now get up every weekday at 5.50am, drive into the city and I am in the pool by 6.30am. Swim until 7.45am and am in work for 8.15am. It’s brilliant. Free parking and I beat the rush hour traffic. I still get to leave work early and am back home by 5pm. I am then doing a 6 mile power-walk when I get back – phew! I feel brilliant though and the upside to the regime is that I am totally knackered by 9pm and am asleep by 10pm, therefore cutting my danger time considerably in terms of eating in front of the telly.


I’m aware that this probably seems quite extreme but I hadn’t considered the benefit of naturally limiting the amount of the evening spent slobbing out in front of the goggle-box. Okay, today is only my third day but, already I am noticing that it’s been easier to not binge. I think that this may be a solution to it. I am fine when I am at work but the real danger time seems to be between 9 and 11pm. Frankly I have been far too knackered to think about scoffing. The only drawback is that it means that I am quite tired if I want to go out with friends but, generally, I am trying to see them mostly at the weekend.


In a way, I am glad that this week and next are only 4-day working weeks. It means that I am having to limit the amount I go. I know that I won’t be arsed to go at the weekend so I am safe then. I won’t be touching the gym yet though, that is far too scary a prospect. I think that I’ll wait until I am bit more fit and a lot less bulky. I’m sure people would be nice and all, but I just don’t have the self-confidence at the moment to risk it. I would be far too paranoid that they would be looking at my vast expanse of belly. At least with swimming I can wrap the towel round me and then I am in the water. It’s a fairly risk-free process :)

One week to go until the first fill :o I am still quite apprehensive. I am scared that it will be painful. I am actually more scared of having too much restriction than not enough. I watched Fat Doctor and the lady having the fill threw up immediately afterwards which didn’t exactly inspire me. Watch this space I guess…


Onwards and downwards.

My Uncomfortable Truth

"Blythe didn't think much of the Consultant's new Feng Shui waiting room"

Week 8 Post-Op
Weight: 13 stone 3lbs
Weight Lost: 3 Stones


Finally. Finally it has happened. I have broken the 3 stone mark. I accept that I have only lost a pound this week but, a pound off is better than I was expecting given the silly-bugger behaviour I have indulged in. My next goal is to be 12 stone something. That’s only 4lbs away, so not too extreme a target.

I saw the Consultant yesterday. He was pleased with the progress and I spoke to him about the ‘sausage incident’ as Jack now refers to it. Jack hasn’t forgiven me for scaring him yet. Last night I had my best mate over for tea. She knows all about the band and is extremely supportive. Over dinner Jack asked her, “Has she told you how she tried to kill herself with a sausage last night?” :o

Yes, I had. Later on he sticks his head round the lounge door and says, “Not dead then? Just checking”. This was all done VERY tongue in cheek by Jack, but, the fact he’s even mentioning it indicates to me just how upset he is.

I digress. The Consultant. Well, he said he was pleased that I seemed to understand why it had happened and that it was important to pay close attention to the actual food you are eating at any time and not to get distracted, eat too much or not chew well enough. He has booked me in for the first x-ray fill on 11th April. I could have had it sooner but that was the first date the radiologist had available. I questioned him about the amount of restriction and he stated that I would get the equivalent of 2-3 blind fills, that the radiologist would look to restrict to the level that fluid slips more slowly through the band. He then went on to say that the aim would be to get restriction where 2-3 mouthfuls of food would keep me nicely full and that 4-5 would be painful. He anticipated that this restriction would last 2-3 months and then I would be looking at having the second and final fill.

So what is my uncomfortable truth then? I know this is going to fly in the face of why I had the operation and will probably sound ungrateful but, although I desperately want to be a healthy weight and all the benefits that go along with that, there is this part of me that absolutely loves eating. I am ashamed to admit it but, having been working on ‘feeling my feelings’ more and not burying them with food, the feeling I had when the consultant said I would only be able to eat 2-3 mouthfuls was a definite mixture of panic and sadness. How mental am I? But I think it’s vital that I address this and not try to hide how I am feeling. I almost resent it. 2-3 mouthfuls? That’s bugger all. Yes, I know I will feel full after these and not actually want anymore and yes, that is wonderful. However, I feel sad to be losing my old friend. Eating is a truly pleasurable experience and fills me with anticipation, excitement and an almost ‘drug’ like high. I feel I have to admit that. I don’t regret for one minute having had the band but, yesterday, I definitely felt ambivalent towards it. I know that the only way forward is to acknowledge how I truly feel about food and acknowledge the nature of my relationship with it… but I am a little sad to be saying goodbye to those mountainous binges.

Looking back on how my chaotic my eating had become I realise that sometimes planning what I was going to eat in my nightly binge was what got me through the day. It almost felt like getting ready for when I used to go and spend the weekend with Jack. I still have those feelings about coming home from work and knowing that Jack will be here waiting for me, but, somehow the food ‘affair’ became established again. It replaced the heady ‘first-date’ anticipation as our relationship blossomed. I think I must crave a ‘high’ or a boost as part of being who I am. I wonder if people with alcohol dependency get the same feelings of anticipation before their first drink of the day? Or is it the feeling of relief that I get when I eat something?

Let me paint you a picture … this is the reality of how ridiculous my behaviour with food had become. I preferred to stay in, as opposed to seeing friends because it gave me more time to eat. When I was out with friends and family I would purposely eat a great deal less than I wanted to because I didn’t want them to see how greedy I was. If I was at a buffet I would fill my plate with virtuous salads and not have the items that I really wanted to eat, certainly not in the quantities that I wanted to eat. When I was at home with Jack, we would spend some of the evening together but, because I like crappola TV and he can’t stand it, I would get the lounge to myself for at least an hour. I would have gone to M&S at lunchtime (the money that I really don’t have that I used to spend on food) and bought 2 packet of each of my favourite things. 1 pack would be ‘on display’ in the kitchen and the other hidden. Now this wasn’t about Jack not having his fair share of munchies but, it was about that I didn’t want him to know just how much volume of food I was consuming. With the items on display it would look like I had only had 1 muffin or 1 Belgium bun when, in fact, I had had a pack of 4 and the 1 out of the display pack. Looking back and admitting this fills me with shame. I don’t think Jack is aware of the full extent of my devious eating. I would then have to hide the evidence. This is something which I have been doing since I was a little girl, except now I am so much better at it. I’d hide wrappers in my work bag so that I could put them in the bins there and not get caught out at home.

Realistically, the band is the only thing that is going to help me in the long term. I think I will always have a complex relationship with food but I can’t begin to address it whilst I am stuffing my feelings down with food. I know in my heart of hearts that the band is giving me a brilliant tool to help me cope with the physical side of over-eating. This is all painful stuff to be admitting but, I can’t escape the clutches of my over-eating if I don’t admit to what I do.

The urges to over-eat are with me daily, some days I cope better with them than others, the next thing I need to do is work out why.

Onwards and downwards.