Four weeks into my six-week experiment on the 4-Hour Body Plan, I’ve got these results to report:
– Current weight: 215 lbs., down 2 pounds from last week, and down 15 pounds from my start weight of 230.
– My waistline: 40.75 in., down 1/4 inch from last week, and 1.25 inches from my starting measurement of 42 inches.
– My neck: 16.75 inches, down 0 from last week, but down 1.25 inches from my starting measurement of 18 inches.
A weight loss of two pounds per week is sane and sustainable, so I’m pleased there. This was the first week I felt a little bored with eating, though, and was more likely to be tempted by cookies or the urge to grab a slice of pizza. After more than three weeks without cravings, that came as a surprise.
And, yesterday, I hit a speed bump of sorts: I had what I believe was a gallbladder attack. Gallbladder attacks, usually caused by gallstones gumming up the works, are characterized by pain beginning just under the right rib cage, then spreading to the lower back and lower-mid-chest. Attacks usually come at night; mild ones are usually over in one to three hours.
Looking back, I’ve been having these for the past year or two, usually after eating a fried or fatty meal. (Dad had ’em, too, back in the day.) Until yesterday, I’d written them off as an annoyance, and dismissed them as really bad gastrointestinal distress.
Yesterday, though — before I even got to indulge on my Indulgence Day! — after a couple of hours of discomfort, I began having really severe pain (it’s not an exaggeration to call it agony, really), nausea, cold sweats, and vomiting … just out of the blue. At first, I thought it was food poisoning, but then, after a little Internet research, could see the pattern as plain as day. The location of the pain, the circumstances under which it occurs … all of these point to a problem with the gallbladder.
To be clear: being on the plan didn’t cause a gallbladder attack. (In fact, as I lose weight, and continue to eat primarily lean meats and vegetables, I’m less and less likely to have one.) But rapid weight loss *can* increase the possibility of an attack. (My dad’s problems began, in fact, after he went on an extremely low-fat diet.)
So: what to do? I’ll see a doctor this week and, probably, get a sonogram. If there are stones, and if there’s a high probability of another attack, I’ll sign up for the nifty new laparoscopic procedure that requires only the smallest of incisions (and, for good measure, while they’re in there, they’ll take the appendix, too, just for jollies).
Until then … well, no cake frosting slathered on pizza and drizzled with lard for me.
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