I am a peppy person and never really complain. And as happy as I am with the lapband and my progress to date there are only 2 complaints that I feel are finally problem enough to voice my concern.
- Shrinking Boobs
- Hair Loss
A. Shrinking Boobs.
Why? Why did my boobs have to go shrink along with my waist? I was never truly blessed upstairs to begin with and for years, Lane Bryant Plunge bras and I have been straight up BFF's. Through all my years and layers of fat, my boobs were the one thing that, although not Dolly size, left me feeling a bit sexy. Now, I'm paranoid. I feel everyone stares at my lack there-of. And I am scared to death to get fitted to see what my new cup size would be. Before, I was a C, a lowercase C. Maybe if I get a bra that is smaller around (all mine are still 42) then the C cup will still be ok? I'm hoping. Anyone else have shrinking TaTa's? I need relocation lyposuction from my tummy to the boobs; that would solve all my problems.
B. Hair Loss
My mom and brother have gorgeous, perfect, thick, curly hair. Me, I got stuck with my dad's fine/thinner hair and nose. Lovely. I never understood why my brother would be blessed with such perfect hair. He.Is.A.Boy. What does he need with picture perfect locks? I started noticing hair loss about 6 weeks post-op. It wasn't alot, just strands of hair on the counter or vanity. I thought weird, but never gave it much thought. Now, handfuls. Everyday. And this, this is depressing. I get my protein and take my vitamins.
When will this stop?
Moving on....
Last night, my band was my superman. && saved me.
Last night we had church and was crunched for time before hand. I had every intention of going home and whipping something up and eating before we ran out the door. Well, on my drive in, I get in front of Mr. Gatti's Pizza and call my husband and suggest we go there. It was less than an hour until church started and by the time we got home I wouldn't have time to cook anything. Convienence, won. So I go through the line - get one slice of pizza and a big ol' fat salad. I still had around 450 calories for the day (putting me at 1100) so I tried to guestimate and behave, although the entire trip through the buffet line I felt guilty and was second guessing my choice and knowing that no matter what I ate, I would exceed my calories goal.
So, I walk to a table and sit.
I take a small bite of pizza.
Thirty-seconds later, I'm
stuck.
Who was I to think that I could eat bread? I guess with the bread being hid under a moud of cheese, bacon and peppers, I thought I could pull a fast one over on the good 'ol band.
Nope.
As I made a mad dash to the bathroom, it was yelling loudly, "Sucker!!"
Within the next fifteen minutes, I made four more trips to the bathroom; by this time, the band was rolling in hysterical laughter.
Husband finished eating and I left, still stuck.
This was a $9 lesson.
I had been a perfectly, good little girl. I was going to sacrifice all my efforts for the easy way out. So what if we had to eat in the car on the way? What the heck did we used to do when we lived at McDonald's?
I'm thankful my band showed me who was boss and I didn't get to eat. I was pissy about it at first. But after I got unstuck and my mind cleared, I was so relieved I hadn't ruined the day.
I ended up having a Petro at home, with homemade turkey chili, low-sodium Frito's, Fat Free cheese and low-fat sour cream.
(My favorite post-band meal) And stayed below 1,100 calories.
Don't ever sacrifice this journey for rash decisions. It's just not worth it, ever. Stay strong. Think straight.
We can do this.