Cut out 80 percent of your stomach, youre left with 20 percent of what you had.
Even I know that.
I also know that 20 percent of a formerly whole stomach holds about 4 oz. — sometimes 6 oz., spending on the food. Twenty percent of a formerly whole stomach gets full pretty damn fast — much faster than you’d believe. Especially if you eat quickly. And refuse to chew each bite 25 times.
We have already played the “envision eating just half a cup of your Mexican combo” game. Let’s go back there for a moment.
American restaurant dishes typically contain far more food than a healthy, regular-size human ought to eat in one sitting. It’s one of the reasons eating out is such fun. Someone delivers you too much food, which gives you license to eat more than you need because, well, it’s there. And you can.
As I struggled with whether to go through with surgery that would render me unable ever again to eat too much, one of my biggest fears was that I would miss eating more than I should too much to make it worth it.
That hasn’t happened. But it’d be a lie to say that I don’t miss being able to have just one more bite. God, what I wouldn’t give.
These days, it’s a struggle to eat enough in a day to sustain my body and keep me going. I work hard at it, calculating grams of protein and figuring out when to consume how much liquid. I have targets to shoot for every day. I succeed more often than I fail. But I fail more often than I want to.
Much as I’d figure that some infertile couples stop enjoying sex when it becomes the means to an end, eating has lost much of its pleasure for me. I approach it with trepidation, worried that my body will stop accepting food before I’m done giving it what it needs.
Every so often, though, what I’m eating hits a spot so tender that it makes me forget the calculus of it. Those are the times I’d give my right arm for just one more bite.
The things that make me stop and savor aren’t what you might expect. The last one was romaine lettuce with ranch dressing. The time before that, fresh strawberries. It’s not surprising to me, because these are things I’m supposed to save for after I’ve gotten enough protein for the day. Given the difficulty of doing that in half-cup increments, salad and fruit are, for now, treats.
They won’t be forever, certainly. Eventually, I’ll be able to handle a cup of food at a sitting. Until then, I’ll sit here with my chicken breast, or lentils, or cottage cheese. I’ll eat slowly, mindfully, chewing with purpose, praying for space. I’ll listen closely to my stomach, stopping the very moment it tells me I should.
And I’ll dream of the day when my plate is, once again, divided into food groups.
I thrive on reading your blog. I really like the humanity of it. Stick to your guns on the 1/2 cup of food. You can do it. You have come so far so fast. I must repeat the mantra that what you have done is for your health. It is not about the weight or how you look. You have always been beautiful, blonde and extremely smart!
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