6. Snoring like a bear
Talk about un-ladylike. Of course, I wasn’t sure weight loss would rid me of this curse. My 4’11” 110-pound mother snored like a dump truck on a dirt road, but after I dipped below 200 pounds, my snoring slowed to a crawl. I used to not be able to share a hotel room with a friend and was petrified of falling asleep on a plane for fear of terrorizing everyone with my nasal roar. Worst of all? I used to lie in bed, fighting to keep my eyes open until I thought my husband was asleep, keeping him from seeking refuge on the living room couch. Now I snore only on rare occasions, like when my nose is stuffed. And when I do, it’s no longer earth-shattering and ear-splitting. And I even get to fall asleep first.
7. I stopped breathing.
Number 6 seems trivial compared to this one. I’ll never forget the first time it happened. I sat bolt upright from a deep sleep, to find myself choking, gasping. I had stopped breathing. As I gulped for breath my husband grabbed my arm and stared at me with wild, panicked eyes, his other hand reaching for the phone to call 911. Eventually I choked in some air and knew I was out of danger, but it had scared me. Scared me more deeply than I’d ever been scared before.
I had developed sleep apnea.
My brother tried to convince me to get a CPAP machine, but I refused to sleep like an invalid every night with a mask on my face just because I couldn’t lose 20 pounds. It scared me enough that it helped push me off the edge and onto this weight loss journey. As soon as I got below 200 pounds, the apnea stopped. And now? I can sleep on my back. Seriously, I’m sure many of you take it for granted, but I have not been able to sleep on my back for over 16 years. You never know how much you enjoy something until it’s gone…and then, mercifully, it’s back again.
8. The sixth cookie
So, imagine I’m at a table with four other people. There is a plate of six cookies in the middle of the table. Everyone takes one, leaving one in the middle. I finish mine quickly, and immediately begin to wonder if it would look bad if I took the last one. Would that be rude? Would people think, “There she goes! Obviously she has impulse control problems! She certainly doesn’t need that cookie.” But I really want the cookie and am having trouble concentrating on what is being said. And why isn’t the woman next to me eating hers? I mean, for god’s sake, doesn’t she know there’s a cookie in front of her? Maybe I can take hers too on the way out. Can’t waste a perfectly good cookie!