Obese. It’s such an ugly word. When the doctor in Sri Lanka (where I lived for 14 years) said I was obese, I cringed. What the hell did he know? I wasn’t as big as so many others, I still had a shape, but I was gutted. Who wants to be labeled obese?
When my doctor in Lakeport said that my blood pressure was too high, as was my cholesterol, I asked, “Well, what’s next?”
She got in my face and said, “Death!”
Okay, that shocked me. That was June 29, 2021. On July 1, I began a new way of eating. A previous doctor who had lost something like 300 pounds told me to throw everything white out of the kitchen. When I spoke to Lipton, my photo partner in Sri Lanka, via FaceTime, I told him what the heart doctor had said. Lipton replied, “That means you, too,” and then he laughed. He was referring to me being white. Big joker.
I did go through the kitchen and got rid of my favorite sourdough bread, my yummy jasmine rice, all pasta, potatoes and even butter, which is a big trigger for me. Used to glob butter on my bread. In fact, when I was a kid, my stepfather used to point out how I “slathered” my bread with butter and my potatoes and anything else. What was the point of eating things without butter? Hell, I’d go to the movie theater just for the buttered popcorn, no matter the movie!
My mother had a big freezer in the basement and the only things I saw in it, were chocolate covered ice cream bars and mint ice cream bars. I snuck down there to eat just one and ended up devouring them. Mom made chocolate chip cookies (five dozen) for my big brother’s ice-skating party. Well in advance of the party. Yep, you guessed it. Little Lutey (Mom’s nickname for me) chowed through them. She said she would never make me chocolate chip cookies again. She never did.
After my big brother’s fatal car accident during my junior year in high school, I baked desserts and ate ate ate them all. Eating my feeling, as they say. At some point in my senior year, I woke up and lost 20 pounds. My first diet. First of many.
When I was pregnant with my daughter, our neighbor asked if he could put some stuff in our freezer while he de-iced his. Sure, no problem. Except he brought over chocolate covered ice cream bars. Yep, you guessed it. When he had finished with his freezer, I had finished with his ice cream bars.
Anyone relate to any of this? How about pandemic eating?
In Sri Lanka, people would think nothing of saying, “Oh madam, you’re so fat!” I never could think of a good comeback.
Thank goodness no one here has said that.
Many people have begun to shed their pandemic pounds. That’s helped me to stay steady on my journey, which is why I’m writing about it here. So many of us during the two years of the pandemic have eaten, done projects, eaten more. I’ve been encouraged by many friends here in Lake and Mendocino counties to continue on my weight loss journey. The encouragement has really helped. I mean really helped.
The good news: since July 1, I’ve lost 50 pounds. Nothing fits me. My pants fall down on my way from the couch to the kitchen.
My doctor now loves me and constantly encourages me. Two months ago she stopped my blood pressure medicine. It hadn’t sunk in until that moment that having lower blood pressure was a benefit of losing weight. No more blood pressure medicine. How cool is that?
Now it’s time to move the blood, as my daughter says. So, I’m walking – nope, not riding the bike. Might even take yoga back up. I used to walk to my 81-year-old yoga teacher’s house in Sri Lanka. She could still do the splits. I once got within three inches from actually doing a full-on split. Once, is the key word.
For now, walking is good. Eating the green, not the white, is good. The journey continues.
And…the struggle continues. There’s a new restaurant that serves the best grilled cheese sandwiches ever, with a small cup of homemade tomato soup for dipping. On the way home from the doctor’s office I obsessed about going there. Obsessed! The car almost drove itself to the front door, but I fought it, came home and made a healthy lunch instead.
Lucy Llewellyn Byard is currently a freelance journalist for the Record-Bee and various other publications. You can email her at lucywgtd@gmail.com
