Greetings From Fort St. John OR How I Survived Without Protein Powder

Well, on my first official work related trip recruiting and hiring staff for a new location of our store that’s slated to open very soon. I flew up here a few days ago, on one of those smallish Bombardier planes. The kind where they don’t connect directly to the terminal and you have to traipse across the tarmac. When we landed I saw nothing but white blowing snow, and suddenly I had Winnipeg flashbacks. But I was prepared bundled in layer upon layer and donning my ugly trusty UGG boots I deplaned only to be bitch slapped with the intense feeling of snow and a -39 windchill.

God it felt like Winnipeg. Continue reading

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Head Hunger vs. Real Hunger

I am two weeks and two days post op. Full liquids. I’ve been to two BBQ’s and one huge family dinner. I survived and lived to tell the tale of head hunger.

I’ve heard people refer to it often, but I don’t think I really understood the concept until now. Since surgery I haven’t felt real hunger. No tummy grumbling, no real weakness or low blood sugar. None of the things that make me feel famished. But being around amazing smelling Filipino food constantly has triggered this feeling in me. I caught myself dipping my finger in the different sauces just to taste the taste. Although I’ve broken free from carbs, seeing a nice slab of my cousin’s 18th birthday cake had me drooling. But I knew I wasn’t hungry. It was all in my head, and it’s still all in my head. I find myself having pep talks in my head. I have to tell myself to take time to listen to my stomach. It’s full and there isn’t any room for more. I let it sink in and I move on.

I know that despite having had my VSG that I will always have to battle with food. But taking time to stop and listen to my new stomach is the key for me. I need to listen to what it’s saying.

Aside from that I’m in Winnipeg, my hometown for a little vacation. My cousin is graduating from high school and I promised I’d be here for her commencement. I’m here for a total of two weeks and I don’t have a reliable scale so I haven’t been able to keep up with my scale Nazi tendencies. Which I think is for the best because I was weighing myself twice a day. For now my success is measured in the amount of sag I’m now sporting in my tights. It looks like I took a dump in my pants, no lie. But I’ll take it as a victory!