It’s going to take some time

Last night I caught ‘House’ over at AXN. The main case of the episode involved a 600-pound man whose disease turned out to have absolutely nothing to do with his most obvious symptom: his morbid obesity. Like other cases in the series, most of the time was spent on the efforts of the medical team to find out what was wrong with the man, as their assumptions and theories (and disparaging remarks from a member of the team, and it’s not House) are shot down like birds during open season. This particular episode struck me because in many ways, the obese man and I are alike in many ways.

Well, let me just clarify that I do not tip the scales at 600 pounds. But like the man in the episode I love to cook (ergo, to eat). I also work mostly from a home office. I have few friends. I am almost always single but manages to have an active sex life (he, through a series of female sex workers while I, through a few, well-placed fuck-buddies). I rarely exercised (emphasis on the ‘d’–more on this later). I drink periodically but never smoke. And, my blood pressure, glucose, and cholesterol levels are all normal to the point of boredom. But like him, I still got sick.

My surgery, the ensuing complication, and my somewhat protracted recovery got me thinking really hard. Gallstones are not directly linked to obesity, though it is a predisposing factor. But having it, and getting my gall bladder removed really provided the impetus that, yeah, it’s probably time to seriously consider taking steps towards losing all these weight. Not that it hasn’t crossed my mind already.

I mean, I’m not the obese guy who loathes himself for being fat. I was a skinny boy who didn’t gain weight until I was 11 years old, I think. Sure, I went from being plump to chubby to fat then back to chubby, to plump, then fat again in a span of 25 years. And yes, I also had my share of teasing and taunting because of my weight and ineptitude in sports. However, I did not emerge from these psychologically scarred. If anything, my self-esteem remained intact, probably because I have possessed a heightened self-awareness at a young age.

I remember laughing off an enemy’s poorly written barrage of insults that focused on my weight, in reaction to my attack on his despicable character and questionable intellect. But I digress. The point that I’m trying to get at is simply this: I realized that at my age (at any age, if you ask health professionals, I’m sure), my weight is simply intolerable. While my blood chemistry remains normal (in spite of that minor blip with the gallstones), I should take the opportunity to really work on losing weight. For my health, most of all. So I can continue living as the devoted companion of my friends and the scourge of my enemies (joke!).

My weight has fluctuated over the years because of many reasons. A mostly sedentary lifestyle with sporadic periods of physical exertion, stress eating, joyful eating, adjusting to a new country, among others. I gained a lot of weight between 2003 and 2004 when things became untenable at work in Manila. In my first year here in Cambodia, I lost a lot of weight adjusting to the new food, new water, new mode of transportation, etc. I ballooned again in 2007 when professional frustrations and relationship nuisances seemed to have converged right at my doorstep. And then, I got sick in March 2008.

In between these fluctuations, I took diet pills and diet supplements, enrolled in gyms but didn’t continue after only weeks of training, became a vegetarian for almost 2 years (but didn’t really lose that much weight–improved my bowel movement tremendously, though), did yoga and meditation, etc. In early 2007 our family doctor prescribed an appetite suppressant but it worsened my insomnia, increased the break-out of my pimples, and gave me palpitations so I stopped taking it altogether.

Right after my surgery, the same doctor prescribed a couple of post-operative medications that will help replace the lost function of my gall-bladder, resolve the anemia which I got after the surgery, and to help me lose weight (jump-started by my surgery, I think), a mild form of appetite suppressant. He also advised me to exercise. He suggested walking. Phnom Penh is a city of parks. I imagined it’d be a suitable option.

So I started to walk right after coming back from Manila. I would wake up at 5.30 in the morning, put on some shorts, a white shirt, socks and sneakers, clip on my iPod shuffle, and hang a white facetowel over my shoulders. Then I’d proceed to Hun Sen Park, or the Vietnamese Friendship Park, or the riverside and walk for an hour or so. I also started eating less and watching what I ate (though this may be difficult to discern because I still love to cook for my friends, eat in restaurants, etc.). After about a week or so, I began to feel better about walking, about being vigilant on what I was eating. I didn’t take the appetite suppressant because I was afraid of its side effects, despite my doctor’s advice to the contrary.

Then I started losing weight. At first I didn’t weigh myself regularly. But I felt clothes becoming loose, especially around the waist. Then I discovered old clothes that I couldn’t wear anymore suddenly fitting me again. Friends began to notice before I did. You can even compare my two photos in the previous post, taken one year apart, to see the difference. And I began to feel good. I mean, the aesthetic aspect of losing weight is, of course, very flattering to the ego but I think feeling good physically and psychologically are far more important benefits. I find that now I have more strength, stamina, and more zest to enjoy life. So far, I’ve lost about 12 kg in 8 weeks.

I am, however, not perfect. I have been sort of a truant on walking. I still walk, though not everyday as I did in the last 6 weeks. In fact, I think I didn’t walk for about a week before taking it up again. I would probably need some other form of exercise, just for variety. The gym comes to mind. Despite this setback, however, I am determined to give this all my best. I will see this challenge through and a year from now, I promise to be very close to my ideal weight. It took me a while to become huge. So I know it’s going to take me some time as well to lose these excess weight. But I am willing to wait. After all, patience and persistence are virtues of winners.