Food Vortex

Warning: self-indulgent whiney post incoming. 

Back in January, I slipped on our back porch in the snow and injured my left knee. The injury required surgery which was performed in early February. I have required the use of a walker since. 

The initial recovery estimate was 3 months. Given that I have cerebral palsy, it was understandable that my recovery might take as long as 6 months. So we bided our time and I doubled down on the physical therapy. 

After 7 months, we decided that something must be wrong and I had an MRI of the knee done. With much regret, the Doctor informed me of what he called, "worse case scenario." The MRI showed "slack" in the tendon that was indicative of another injury. 

Had I done something to re-injure myself, or were the tissues in my leg simply too weak to sustain the repair? The best (or indeed only) way forward was a second surgery identical to the first. Basically, back to square one. 

We scheduled the surgery for October 11th, and I've been in pretty low spirits. I'm tired of not being able to walk without the walker. The thought that I would have to go through this whole process a second time and endure it all again for the next three to six months was crushing to my spirit.

Then this Tuesday, September 24th, I had a heart attack. 100% of the primary artery to my heart was blocked. It's a heart attack called, "The Widow Maker" because few survive it. I was lucky, not only did I make it safely to the hospital, but also they were able to make a repair by inserting two stints into the arteries in my heart. 

I'm fine now. If fine means alive and functioning. I'm writing this from my hospital bed and trying to see the bright side. I'm alive. That's good. 

I'm on blood thinners, which means no knee surgery for at least a year. I need to change my lifestyle and my diet. So, the walker for at least another year, and the food … the food. 

Many years ago when I was in my twenties, my friends got me a t-shirt as a gift with the words, "Food Vortex" printed on it. It was intended lovingly, in fun. I was that guy who could and did eat everything. 

I loved food. It was not uncommon for me to make joyful "yummy" noises, that my friends affectionately dubbed, "food-gasms." 

Of course, these things change. At some point in my mid 30's my metabolism did a downshift. I gained weight. I got a belly. It happened fast. It happened so fast that I had stretch marks from gaining the weight. I still love food. I have slowed down in my eating. I don't make joyful noises quite so often now.

I realize that I will still be eating some food that I might enjoy, but my relationship to food has to seriously change. Just the other day I posted a picture of my favorite breakfast on Facebook. I can't have that anymore. All the foods that I love are bad for me. I am determined to stop eating them. 

I'm not the kind of person who can do something like this half way. I can't eat right most of the time and then allow myself a treat. I just can't. I'm going to have to change my relationship to food. I can't trick myself by eating healthy things that taste like the things that I like - veggie burgers will just make me want hamburgers. Good tasting healthy foods will just make me want good tasting unhealthy foods. 

I need to turn eating from a joyful experience to a survival experience. Today I had some plain oatmeal (no sugar or salt) and some scrambled egg-whites (no salt). It was bland and filling. That worked. It supplied what I needed, and that's what I need food to do. 

I know myself. The more I enjoy something, the more that I will want to enjoy something. It's why I collected comics. It's why we have 100's of board games. I have an addictive personality and eating is part of that addiction. 

I need to make eating something that I have to do, but don't look forward to. Only then can I change my bad eating habits. And I need to resign myself to the reality that I won't be walking anytime soon. These are the thoughts crowding my mind. They aren't cheerful ones.