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I read an article in the RJ yesterday that horrified me. The vagus nerve (also known as the pneumogastric nerve) connects your stomach to your brain, as well as feeding nerves to other organs. It's a big, major nerve, passing through the solar plexus & ending in the internal sexual organs - some women who have severed spinal cords can have deep vaginal orgasms when their vagus nerve is stimulated. It's the only nerve that originates in the medulla oblongata - that old familiar alligator brain lurking in the back of our heads. The vagus nerve is responsible for frontal-lobe 'hunger headaches' & for nausea experienced during migraines. It also helps the upper body communicate with the lower body.

There used to be a procedure for ulcers in which the vagus nerve would be severed in a specific spot to lower the stomach's impulse to create acid. A side-effect of this is loss of appetite. Some researchers & doctors are reviving this technique as a less-invasive method to lose weight.

Why do people hate themselves so much that this type of surgery (called a vagotomy) would appeal to them? I love my big round belly. It's about the only place on my body where the skin is beautiful to me. It's paleness is like peaches & cream, it's soft, it's smooth, tattoos look great on it. Just big round creamy white belly. Granted, I am trying to lose weight, but not because I hate how I look. I would never, ever opt for any gastric bypass, 'lap band' or even liposuction as a viable means of losing weight. And when I read about what would be done in a vagotomy, my poor ol' tummy rolled in sympathy. The implications are just too much to stomach. These folks seem to be forgetting that the stomach and its nerves are responsible for some intangible but no less important functions other than just hunger, ulcers & digestion.

What about gut feelings? Gut instincts? The fire in the belly? The ages old fight-or-flight reaction that can be as much of a savior as it can be a demon - it starts by shutting down all digestive processes to free up blood & oxygen for the outer limbs. It's responsible for one of the strongest learned responses - if a food makes you sick & you don't realize which food it was, your stomach will tell you to stay away from it the second time around. Some people 'listen to their hearts', but I, like so many others out there, tend to listen to my gut. If I walk into a situation that makes me feel like my stomach is on an elevator to the sub-basement & I get that panicky momentary feeling that I am going to shit myself, I generally don't go any further. When I first encounter someone who physically interests me, my clit doesn't pop, my nipples don't go stiff --- no, that first encounter is usually accompanied by a peculiar flutter in my stomach, followed shortly by the clit-popping & nipple-hardening.

The solar plexus is where energy is stored... it may even be the seat of the soul. If you've ever been clipped really hard in the solar plexus, it will knock you down if you aren't prepared for it. Takes the legs right out from under you, makes your vision go grey & fuzzy. Knocks the wind out of you - because of the pneumo part of the pneumogastric nerve. It's the center of chi (now that I'm surfing, it looks like I may have too much energy in my solar plexus... something about being a judgmental workaholic who can't show warmth or emotion & needs drugs or alcohol to relax...).

So many people, especially women, out there just haven't taken the time to foster a good, loving relationship with their stomachs. They see fat, they see stretchmarks, they see all these skeletal, bobbly-headed women on t.v. & they learn to hate their bodies. Food has turned into an evil thing instead of that which nourishes the body and soul. Since I've started this whole diet thing, I eat slower. I'm trying to incorporate some mindfulness into my meals. Usually, I just eat. I eat efficiently, quickly, while watching t.v. & reading something, or while playing WoW... multitasking, food as a brief comma in the stream of daily activities. The other night at work I realized I couldn't taste the avocado I was eating. It had been in the fridge & it was only as the pieces warmed in my mouth for some time that the flavor came out. I realized that it had been a long time since I'd honestly tasted avocados. They taste rich, buttery, full of fatty goodness. It was just lightly salted & not mashed up into guacamole. I remembered why I liked avocados in the first place.

Obsession

Feb. 4th, 2007 07:56 am
perzephone: (Default)
Since I've been half-assedly attempting to diet, of course it's the only thing on my mind. Fat. Being fat. The quality of weight.

I've heard this said on talk shows, and I've heard it said behind people's backs, and I've heard it said to people's faces... "You have such a pretty face. It's a shame you're so overweight."

I've never had anyone say this to me, though.

It leads me to one conclusion, not exactly positive. I do not have a pretty face, therefore it is not such a shame that I am fat. Being considered ugly automatically makes it okay to be fat. In fact, it almost makes it seem like a necessity.

Ah well, fuck 'em all, I can still get laid.

Another thing is how I perceive my own earning potential. I always tell people if I wasn't fat I would exploit my body for cash. This is not completely true - I have exploited my fat ass for cash without thinking about how I look naked. Believe me, if there was a strip club that featured fat chicks, I'd be there, getting dollars thrown at me. If anyone knows of such a club, I could be encouraged to relocate if it's a viable investment. Honestly, I just like being naked, and people don't even have to pay me to be naked. Sometimes, people have to pay me to not be naked. Like, "If I give you $20 will you put your clothes back on? Hell, I'll give you $100 if you do it right now!" Maybe that's really my ticket to a quick million... walk around with a sign that says, "Give me money or I'll take my clothes off!" When I get drunk, my clothes can't stand to be near my body anymore & make a strong, concerted effort to flee - and no amount of money in the world can persuade them to stay on.

At work last night I told my assistant manager about my impending surgery & asked him how I go about filing for FMLA (the Family Medical Leave Act) once my vacation runs out. Right away, he blurts out, "Oh, you won't need FMLA. I'm sure we can arrange some personal leave time!" Yeah, sure, Justin. Tonight I'm going to ask Duane how to go about it since he just came back from FMLA leave. I'll be able to schedule my surgery in about 2 weeks, so on Monday I'm going to my primary care doc to have her send me for blood-typing & I'm going to put a few pints of blood on reserve.

I'm kind of worried - Rob is unreliable and I'm going to need a lot of support - literal, physical support, once I get this surgery. Not being able to use one leg for a month is a long time. Laundry, cooking, dishes, all the little things that Rob is so used to me doing, like making his morning decaf - I'm not going to be able to do much of that. I'm also going to have a hard time getting in & out of the truck. If it was my left leg, my 'inside' leg, it would be one thing to lift it into the truck, use my right 'outside' leg to support me as I hoist myself into the seat & then pull the left leg in. Kind of like mounting a horse - you throw your left leg over the horse's back & pull yourself into the saddle. But it's my right leg & I can't exactly get into the truck facing backwards. I won't be able to get on my knees at all - no tub cleaning or snake tank cleaning or anything else involving kneeling for that matter. I get frustrated easily. I had a hard time w/my left leg after the pins were put in it because I'd get irritated & use it more than I was supposed to. The scarring is really bad compared to what it should be because all my moving around made the pins shift & tear. When I call to schedule the surgery, I'm going to get a scrip for the crutches so I can start practicing. Hel, I need the exercise anyway. I also warned Rob to not come into the recovery area until I was fully conscious. The last time I underwent major surgery I came out with a bad attitude.

Does anyone else notice the overwhelming resemblance Spin City has to Benson? And does anyone else wonder what the heck ever happened to Arsenio Hall?
perzephone: (Default)
My last post made me think about the word "fat". "Fat" doesn't make me uncomfortable one little bit. It's descriptive. I tell people who don't know what I look like that I am "short, fat & tattooed." Sometimes I'm "short, fat & dumpy." Occasionally I'm "short, fat & white."
Immediately, they say, "Oh, you're not fat!" They don't care about "short", "tattooed" or "dumpy". They just automatically respond "you're not fat!" Even though they've never even seen me, I'm not fat. I call 'em on it. "How do you know I'm not fat? You've never even seen me!" Fat is a very useful word. I'm not "big-boned", "heavyset" or "a big woman". Even though I do kinda like "big woman" - if I was taller, I'd probably tell people I was a "big woman". "Big woman" has power.

Now, people that can see me... this really kills me. I say something at random, like "Oh Gods, I am so fat. Eventually I'm gonna have to lose some of this". They too respond, "You're not fat!" So I ask, "Well, if I wasn't here, how would you describe me?" I get the blank, shocked stare... "Uh, not thin?" They stumble around & grope for a politically correct, inoffensive term for "fat". Even Rob - he tells me "I hate when you call yourself that." or "I hate when you use that word." He won't even say it, so I pick on him, "Call myself what? Dumpy?" or "What word? Short?" I make him say it - he looks away from me, at the floor, the ceiling, anywhere but at me, as he mumbles under his breath, "fat". I hear more people casually use the n-word than I hear them say "Fat". I think the only person who uses both words equally is possibly Eminem. All hail Eminem, he who can use the most politically incorrect & offensive word in the English language w/out flinching.

I don’t like small cars
Or real big women
But somehow I always find myself in ‘em
- Kid Rock, “Welcome to the Party”

Kiss of Life by Peter Gabriel
From the Security album

See me a big woman, big woman look how you dance
see me a big woman, big woman caught in a trance
dancing on the tabletop, covered up with the Easter feast
you’re dancing for the fishermen,
from the very large right to the least
dancing for the slow release, first the man and then the beast
Then the beast

burning, burning with the kiss of life
burning, burning with the kiss of life

See me a big woman, big woman so full of life
see me a big woman, big woman going to be my wife
watching for the different eyes - they change your face -
they come inside
watch the spirits laugh and cry, watch them find a place to hide
watch the spirits talk in tongues, watch them take you for a ride

Down at the ocean lies a body in the sand
big woman beside, head in hand
with heat from her skin and fire from her breath
she blows hard, she blows deep in the mouth of death

burning, burning with the kiss of life
burning, burning with the kiss of life
burning, burning with the kiss of life

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