Finding my weigh, in the beginning

January 18, 2013

A blog by Lexi Alvesteffer.

So, this is the beginning. Of my blog, that is. In the five months since I started the process of having bariatric sleeve surgery, there have been times that I’ve questioned why I was doing it. I’m not truly an unhealthy person. I’ve had my bouts with high cholesterol and high blood pressure but both went back down to acceptable levels with some fairly manageable lifestyle changes (more veggies, less stress, etc.) and I don’t hate my body. I don’t love my body but I think that I probably walk around with more self-confidence than a lot of people who weigh 50 pounds less that I do.

Why? Not sure. Maybe it’s because I don’t look in the mirror after I get dressed in the morning. I rely on my mind’s eye to tell me what I look like and that determines how I feel about myself that day. I’m also pretty confident in myself as a person. Do I always like myself? No, but I’m not sure anyone always likes themselves. Sometimes I’m brash and tactless, sometimes I hurt people’s feelings with my words, sometimes I’m impatient and have road rage, sometimes I’m just plain grumpy. But I have good, even great, qualities. I’m an honest, hard-working, trustworthy person who would do anything for the people I love. I’m faithful and loyal, sometimes to a fault because it isn’t always reciprocated and sometimes I take too personally the hurt that my loved ones feel and end up spiteful toward those who wounded them. But the bottom line is that when all is said and done, I like myself.

So why have surgery? Today I was painfully reminded of why I need this. CA (my husband, who will always be referred to as CA from here on) and I have an agreement when it comes to groceries. He brings them in from the car, I put them away. Today was grocery day and as I mindlessly worked to put everything in it’s proper place, I realized something, I’m winded. I’m winded putting groceries away. Not running up stairs or even casually walking half a mile. I got winded while trekking the 10 feet parameter of my kitchen, bending down to cupboards and opening and closing the refrigerator. That right there is reason enough for me.

Then it hit me again when I got done putting away groceries. I’m tired. Tired enough that I could go lay down and take a nap just from going to the grocery store and then putting groceries away. Granted, I’ve been fighting a cold that is now the cough of death that won’t go away but I’m still more tired that I should be from grocery shopping. And not only am I tired right now. I’m tired all the time. Every. Day. Of. My. Life.

Those two epiphanies, accompanied with the fact that my kids will be up from their naps soon and instead of being excited to play with them, I wish they’d sleep a little longer so I could take a nap, is why I’m having surgery. My kids need me to have energy and be able to play with them without getting winded. My kids need me and my husband needs me. I need me.
So, this is the beginning.

Eats