The last supper(s)

COUNTDOWN: 11 sleeps to go.

I had a terrible day for eating today.  Absolutely shocking.  It hasn’t been a day of emotional eating or boredom eating or anything like that, it feels like “last supper” eating.  Did you ever play that game “if you were on death row, what would you choose to be your last supper”?  That’s how I kinda feel. Not that getting a lap-band is like being sentenced to death... actually, wait a second, maybe it is.  A certain part of me has been given the death sentence.  That fat girl with the “insufficient self control” issues has been given notice.

Today I had my last doughnut, my last meat pie, last bag of hot chips with chicken salt and possibly my last Cherry Ripe (possibly not, there are 10 days to go!).  Look at that list of food!  I never used to eat like this pre sobriety.  I’ve always loved food, don’t get me wrong, but never like this.  These last few years have been so junk filled I barely even crave the good stuff now and I can’t wait to have that back.  I’ve become a dead-set salad dodger!

To give you a little history, I grew up in a family where food was and still is, very important.  Not only did food fuel us but we loved to talk about it, watch shows about it, read about it and food was also what helped but a roof over our heads.  My mum ran her own successful catering company from our family kitchen for 15 years while we were growing up.  Her passion for good food inspired me and my brother and sister to also have a very strong interest in food.

In these last three years, since returning from a four year stint living overseas, I lost that enthusiasm for good healthy food and I don’t understand why it went.  

When I fell pregnant in April 2008 I had the most hideous morning sickness for the first trimester.  So much so that I threw up every day from 3am through to 5pm and lost 12kgs in the process.  My only real cravings during this strange time were for iceberg lettuce doused in Kraft French dressing.  I would eat a whole head of lettuce shredded and swimming in the vinegary liquid.

Once the nausea subsided and my appetite returned and Noo grew bigger and bigger in my belly I developed a growing need for sugary foods.  I also had the best excuse to eat whatever I wanted – I was pregnant, I’d lose the weight again after the baby was born.  It’s a wonder I didn’t develop gestational diabetes with all those lollies and ice blocks.

So my son was born three days before Christmas, the biggest feasting time of the year.  Noody and I had our first Christmas lunch together, just the two of us, in our private room at RPA (the Royal Price Alfred Hospital) – he having a clumsy attempt at a boob and me with a skinny piece of pork and some overcooked and sad looking vegies.  It wasn’t much but it was the best Christmas lunch ever.

The whole family turned up not long after, including my 98 year old grandfather who I was so glad could be there to share in that wonderful day.  They brought plates of food and the best Christmas pud with hard sauce and custard. 

So I wasn’t pregnant anymore and along with grog, the fags were also long gone, but my tastebuds did not all of a sudden crave the good food I’d once enjoyed so much with a glass of wine or a bottle of beer.  My understanding has always been that once you give these things up, especially ciggies, your tastebuds become more sensitive and you can appreciate the taste of food to a higher degree.  Nup, not me.  The yearning for all things sweet and fattening continued.

Which brings me back to today – DISGUSTING!  My therapist (yes, I have a therapist, I feel like I’m saying a line out of a Woody Allen film, but I’m not, it just is that I am in therapy) suggested I do a sugar detox three days before the op to prepare myself for everything.  Most people being banded have to do the Very Low Calorie Diet (VLCD) with Optifast before the surgery in order to reduce the amount of fat around their livers making it easier for the surgeon to do his thing on the day.  Because of my relatively low BMI I don’t need to endure that two week long torture which I’m stoked about.  On the other hand I think it would be good to do in that you’d feel so relieved after the op that you can then at least have something a little tastier than a diet shake.  Eating as I currently do right up to the day feels like I’ll be jumping straight into the deep end.

Jumping into the deep end is something I’ve been pretty good at so I might as well take the same approach here.  I might change my mind, but in the mean time I’ve got a number of last suppers still left to have.

V.