I haven't felt like much this week ... well, other than being bone weary and in a little down funk. I'm not sure why. I have been teary and out of sorts. Perhaps it's just emotional exhaustion. Missing Rob. Fed up with this bloody band parlava. Complex patients at work. Added to that is the fact that I haven't nurtured myself this week. I've done bugger all exercise. And to top it all off, I was ill on Friday and took the day off work.
So, this week I have planned to spend some quality time on myself. I have a dental appointment on Monday (I know, I know ... you all think I'm weird ... but looking after my dental hygiene is important to me. Having a gobful of healthy cavity free teeth makes me feel good); on Thursday I have treated myself to a spa appointment (one whole hour of being scrubbed from head to toe with salt scrub, an aromatherapy Japanese shower and a full body massage ... aah, heaven on a stick!) and on Saturday I'm off to see the "Vegem!ite Tales" (a stage play about a group of Aussies living in London). I have also made a promise to myself to go to the gym three times this week ... even if it's only to swim laps for 40mins.
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I went for my third fill today. This whole experience is making me increasingly angry, disappointed and frustrated. I have now had three fills in four weeks and have ... no, none, naddah restriction (except maybe in the morning and even then, it's not serious). Sigh. I have forked out almost 3000 GBP for surgery and a further 270 GBP for three fills and I'm not getting anywhere. I'm not losing the oodles of pounds (other than out of my purse) that every other bandster is. I long for this elusive restriction that the bandster world harps on about. I mean, for crying out loud, I am now up to 5.6cc in my band (keeping in mind that my band holds 9cc) and I still have no restriction. 3.4cc more and I'm out ... after 3.4cc, my band will be at full capacity and then what? Faaaark.
My frustrations are only further enraged by the bloody doctor who does my fill. He harps on about 'cravings'and 'dieting' and that I will have to deal with being hungry. What the?! Let me tell you a thing or two Doctor I've-never-really-had-a-weight-problem ... 1) the band is meant to be a tool that limits how much I can eat (meaning I can never overeat but it does mean I can still make bad food choices if I allowed myself), 2) the band (when adequate restriction is achieved) is meant to slow down the passing of food from my pouch to the rest of my stomach resulting in a feeling of being satiated for 3-4 hours ... not the measley 1-2 hours I'm currently experiencing, 3) buddy, this band is about changing my lifestyle ... not about dieting and being starving hungry for the next 40 years of my life. If I wanted that I would've found a way to be anorexic, you prat and 4) I AM NOT HAVING CRAVINGS ... IT'S NOT ABOUT HEAD HUNGER (although I appreciate I will struggle with this from time to time) ... IT'S ABOUT NOT BEING PROPERLY RESTRICTED AND BEING BLOODY STARVING ALL THE TIME!! The man infuritates me. A couple of unsavoury words found their way out of my mouth in an attempt to explain my frustration with this whole bloody experience. And I almost cried angry pent up tears in his office today ... but I'd be loathed to let him see me cry. To make things even better, he proceeded to tell me about a woman who had lost about 20kgs since her surgery in April. Nice one, you prat. I'm failing, she's succeeding ... why tell me that story? It only served to make me feel worse about the whole sorry mess. I think he knew how inappropriate the story was as soon as he told it as he changed topic with lightening speed.
Every fill I've had the doctor tell how I'm 'now' at a good fill level. He tells me that I'll feel something 'this time' but nothing happens. I want to scream and shout and burst into those angry unshed tears. I'm so bloody worried I put myself through a small personal hell for nothing. Sigh.
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