OOh I am so ’ungry. I am.
I have been the localised Oprah Winfrey of weight loss forever.
I am half Italian, as I discovered just before my mother died, when she told me by mistake. She was a controller and liked to keep information to herself.
There seems little doubt that I belong to the people who invented pasta and perfected ice cream. I have just sent for a slightly cheaper ice cream maker, which is actually a small churner with a strong motor that can get through a little tub of previously frozen anything. I have bought it on the grounds that it will be healthy and if there are any additives, I’ll know what they are because I’ll have added them.
See? Healthy ice cream. Sprout flavour will be
Lettuce ice cream will be
Cucumber ice cream will be
They say that losing weight is mental.
Definitely, I’m going round the bend already.
I believed that my weight troubles were mental in origin for most of my life because my adoptive mother had deliberately starved me from the day she got me. I was often told of her struggles to find bottle teats with small enough holes so that I drank the milk in exactly the time the Ostermilk leaflet said I should. Eventually no-hole teats were discovered, after which I took longer.
I was eight in 1959 when I had my appendix removed but didn’t find out for another sixty three years that this surgery had caused adhesions which had begun knotting up my intestines.
Meanwhile as I reached teenage years my mother’s delight in starving me grew. I was allowed six green beans with Sunday lunch, no more, no less. Eventually with the doctor under her thumb I was admitted to hospital twice to be starved for a fortnight while my parents were away on holiday. The second time I had a mental breakdown and didn’t speak for a year.
Finally with the surgery to remove adhesions from three other surgeries, that had joined in and added to the problem, all the adhesions are gone and, with intestines that actually work, it turns out that if I eat less I lose weight, like anyone else.
I had a go last summer but put the weight back on over the winter. This time I am determined to lose enough to give myself a bit of space during the hungry winter.
The OH had a dreadful friend who, in the sixties when boys did not go in kitchens and working mothers didn’t get home until late, sold his brother half a cold baked bean sandwich for £5.
Sounds lovely.
OOh I am hungry.
I know you are thinking of the brand name of any number of weight loss drugs. I wouldn’t dare. The OH tried them and didn’t even fancy a quarter of a cold baked bean sandwich, mainly because he couldn’t leave the bathroom. After a few weeks in there he stopped taking the tablets and put all the weight back on instantly. Additionally there are now reports in varying places of would-be slimmers having terrible side-effects and also putting all the weight back on.
Bodies are very like ten year old children; they like everything to be the same as it always has been. Stasis is the enemy of weight loss, to beat it you have to stay focussed.
I have been eating 830 calories a day since the end of March. Occasionally, for a lark, I have a slice of bread, even though it will take me a week to lose the one pound gained.
It’s like listening to football on the wireless. Back to square one.
I also worry that the adhesions might return. I had a lot of surgery to remove them; it is surgery that causes them. Already I have had to go and retrieve the indigestion tablets from the back of the drawer, which is not a good sign.
So I may have limited time to lose weight before I am stitched up with adhesions when it will be impossible again.
Nothing gets done without a deadline and I think I’m in the last chance saloon.
I will tell you about cucumber ice cream when I make it.
I may even eat it, who can say?
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