So Sunday at lunch, I had my last meal. Which makes it sound like I'm writing this postmortem, or is it posthumously? I really am not sure, however I'm sure all of my English major friends just scratched their eyes out. Well, heck, if they are reading this blog at all, I'm sure they are saying "thanks for sharing everything online Kell, but for the love of God, PLEASE GET AN EDITOR".
At least that's what I usually think when I hit publish. Boy, I need an editor, lest Mrs Lacroix ever find this blog and chase me down for my horrible gram-mar.
But as I was saying, the last time I ate solid food was Sunday at lunch. So as you can imagine, I am pretty darn hungry. Except then sometimes I'm not. It's really really weird. I was pretty positive I was going to die, and skipping dinner Sunday night I kinda wanted to. But next thing I know, Monday morning came around at 5:30 like it always does, and I was hopping out of bed to hit the gym for another round of pain and bliss (the gym). I was clear headed, energetic (though that faded fast), and ready to go. I definitely DON'T have the stamina that I had even last week, but last week's meals were all protein protein and more protein. This week's meals are protein shakes, protein shakes, and unsweetened tea. Literally.
I laughed when I tracked my 500-ish calorie deficit from my workout on Monday, and the plugged in my 400 calorie shakes and supplements that day and wound up NEGATIVE overall for my calorie allotment. My Fitness Pal quickly reprimanded me, but I just smiled at my phone and passed out.
What's interesting is catching myself at all of the times I'm typically cued for food. Like at noon today when I thought, "oh I should go to lunch soon" and then thought, "wait! Your lunch is right next to you in your blender bottle silly". I literally sat at my desk for a minute wondering what to do with myself. So I just got back to work.
Or on the drive home when I called my roommate to see what the game plan was for dinner, and if I needed to pick something up, only to realize dinner was sitting beside me in my iced tea.
This blog is making me ravenous. But if I give it about 2-3 minutes, I've noticed that feeling goes away totally. So weird.
I keep wondering what next week will be like. Will I be in too much pain to notice anything? Will I be in any pain at all? What will it feel like to get full on liquid? While I'm avoiding hunger most of the time right now, I'm certainly NOT getting full at all. What will it be like to sip my protein shakes and think "I can't possibly take another sip" because I'm full? It still confuses me.
There are so many other intensely personal questions going through my mind still, and a bunch of fears now that this is a reality and not just something I'm working towards. Like:
What's it going to be like to run a 5k instead of walking it?
How much plastic surgery will I need afterwards?
How long before I'm able to eat half normal portions?
What's it going to be like when I start chewing food again in a few weeks?
Will I be pretty?
How fast is this weight going to come off?
How long before I'm not diabetic anymore? (I've already been monitoring this, and just going uber low carb, and then liquids only, my blood sugar has already stabilized!)
What will life be like when I'm shopping in regular sections of stores, not worried about the size of a booth in a restaurant, sitting comfortably in an airplane seat, not worried about the random child's observation of my size, being the bride instead of the bridesmaid, just...living?
There's an awful lot of unknown.
I woke up this morning thinking about Shawshank Redemption. If you haven't seen it, immediately stop reading this and go buy the movie. It's that good. But the reason I was thinking about it is it feels like I've gotten my release papers from the prison of my body. Only I've been there for 32 years, so I'm really not sure what life on the outside will be like. And while that is thrilling, it's also scary.
But it was always time to "get busy living, or get busy dying".
I choose to live.
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