I welcomed my 41st year of life today with open arms.
Last year at this time, I celebrated my 40th in New Orleans at Commander’s Palace, one of my absolute favorite places in the world to dine. After a brunch of hibiscus martinis and sugarcane syrup lacquered boudin stuffed quail, I spent the day with my husband at the casino and walking along Canal Street.
In pain. And miserable.
Four days later, I would have my first meeting with the doctor who would give me the tool that completely transformed my 40th year.
And even though I’ve struggled with my head and my sleeve the past few days, it really is the gift that keeps on giving.
It has finally leveled the playing field for me in terms of weight loss. It has enabled me to finally know true measurable success at weight loss. It has given me the capacity to be active again, and gives me hope that I might be able to play sports again, even if it’s only casually.
Most importantly, it has given me hope that someday, I might actually know what it is to live in a “normal” sized body. This would be the greatest thing my sleeve could give me, because then I might actually be able to go out and about without feeling like the biggest person in the room, or suffer the glaring stares of others as they think “OMG SHE’S SO FAT!”
To be granted this gift would be the greatest gift of all.
Today’s eating was eh. I kept things pretty much on plan until dinner. I hit my protein goal, but was way over carbs and calories because I had birthday pie. I knew I was going to have it–I’d decided that long ago. On the day, I had 102 grams protein, 90 carbs and 40 fat, and 1148 calories.