Like a good little post-WLS girl, I went to the doctor today for my annual lab work-up. It's hard for me to believe that the 24th of this month will make seven years since my Roux-En-Y gastric-bypass procedure. But what is harder for me to believe is how my doctors respond to my weight at my check-ups nowadays. The only word I can come up with to describe it is glee. Really...my doctor is filled with glee every time she checks my weight. It's an odd occurrence to observe, considering that I was in the super-size club for so long. You know, the club where you go to the doctor for a sore throat and they find a way to make it about your weight so they can discuss diet and exercise without seeming insensitive. I spent about two decades in that club.
I don't keep a scale in my house anymore and when I go to the doctor, I don't even look at my weight. It's way too easy for me to obsess on the numbers, and I did not have gastric-bypass to have the scale serve as my external source of self-esteem. I did it to give me the opportunity at a healthier life, both physically and emotionally. And in my book, daily weigh-ins and freak-outs over a pound here or there is not healthy.
I'm still about 10 pounds over what I consider my "fighting weight" of 165 pounds -- that sweet spot for me when clothes fit perfectly off the rack and I am able to move through the world with minimal effort. But I'm also about 10 pounds less than I was when I found out I was pregnant with Lily (which followed the most stressful month of my life). I will take the weight I am at right now over where I have been any day of the week.
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