ALCOHOL FREE BIRTHDAY FOR PAUL

Today is Paul's 72nd birthday.  As these things go, getting to 72 is not that unusual, unless you are a world class drunk and have spent the better part of 2014 inside a bottle.

Paul is my friend.  I like Paul. I do not like his behaviour.  I believe that if you are a good friend to someone, you need to speak up when their behaviour is harmful.

For the past two months, Paul has been recovering from his latest visit to hospital for alcoholism.  Truth be told, this was not first visit to hospital due to alcohol abuse.  Having heard all of the lies about not drinking ever again, I was more than inclined to believe that it would be a short time before the bottle was out and Paul was not able to cope anymore.  I will not lie.  I doubted that Paul was going to stop drinking.  I am not totally convinced that Paul will never drink again, but I am willing to promote his current good behaviour and egg him on to put more and more time between he and the bottle.

Presents have been bought and a nice supper at a lovely restaurant is planned for the big day.

With a little bit of luck, we will be celebrating another birthday next year, alcohol free...

KILL THE TASTE OF FAT AND SUGAR

The poor chap featured in the snap is a very large 750 pounds.  The doctors tell him that he will die, just like his father and sister, if he does not take off the pounds.

I gather the chap is taking part in a telly programme that features folks who weigh more than 600 pounds.  He wants to lose some weight so that he can have the surgery to staple or cut his stomach.

This old geezer never weighed so much.  429 pounds was the largest and it was horrid.  I took off a great deal of the weight with diet.  Was still rather large when I had an operation on my ears.  During the operation, the doctor cut the nerve that controls taste.  I will never be able to taste food again.

The real plus of not being able to taste is that I no longer crave sugar or fat.  I was just over 270 when I lost the ability to taste and now am at a very comfortable 170.  I have no problem with food.

As drastic as it may sound, if I were the chap with the weight problem, I would run to the doctor and tell them to cut the nerves that control taste.  Unless this poor chap really reforms, he has a long history of over eating and has comes from a family of over eaters that have died.  The odds are not in his favour.

I wish him luck.

BUFFET IS A BUST

After much badgering, the old geezer got Alan to take to a buffet.  The thinking was, at least on my part, the the wide selection of food would provide a change to the rather bland diet followed these past two months.

Alan is ever so clever.  He knew that a buffet would be a bust and tried to talk MOI into some sort of different dining experience.  The old geezer's mind was made up and nothing was going to change the plan.

The Peppermill Casino has a rather lovely buffet, and with 'comp' dollars to spend, it was not going to be an expensive meal.  The old geezer was ready to dive in...

Sadly, walking round the many offerings did little to excite the palate.  Chicken has become too dry to deal with, pizza boring and most meat held little appeal.  Slowly, the plate had some items added.  There was a little tomato salad, a few Swedish meatballs, and a bit of fish.  There was also a bowl of bean soup.

With effort and no taste, the food was tried.  Feeling put out by the lack of enjoyment, another trip to the counter was made.  The choice of some pork was huge mistake.  Was right depressing...

Alan on the other hand tucked into his meal with gusto.  There is nothing wrong with his taste and he cleaned off his plate.  Alan was looking forward to a visit to the desert island and he made sure that he filled his plate.  There was a wicked looking chocolate desert, a mouth watering slice of cheese cake and other pastries.  Alan told MOI that he was a bit off groceries, as he did not completely finish all of the deserts.  Mind, the plate looked licked clean when he was finished.  The old geezer had some slices of watermelon.  No taste but it went down well...

Were that it be true, the snap featured would have been grand.  Walking out of the buffet was not with much effort, as the old geezer did not eat much.  One the other hand, Alan seemed to be in another place, with the look of total satisfaction on his face.  Went so far as to tell MOI that the Peppermill did not lose any Cash on him that night.  Too right...

My diet is rather plain.   Lots of soups and dry sandwiches with a few micro meals.  The trip to the buffet was an attempt by the old geezer to add a little zest to meal time.  It did not work out that way.  The trip left MOI more than a little depressed.  What I would not give to be able to taste some of the foods was mad for in an earlier life.

It was a pleasure to break bread with Alan.  He tries to add a little spice to me boring life.  Just know now that meals will have to be less complicated in the future.  Pray forgive the old geezer his depression over food taste loss.

PASTA STIFFIE???

Dr. OZ is a telly chat show host who bangs on about diet.  Bit full of self if you ask this old geezer.

This snap seems to show the good Doctor getting very charged up over the aroma of pasta dist.   Can you imagine getting a stiffie over a bowl of food?

The old geezer loved his groceries, but never got a stiffie over any thing offered to eat, not even chocolate.

Mind, this story must be true as it is in The Daily Mail AND bears the Good Houskeeping Seal of Approval...

Who needs Viagra if you can pop a stiffie over pasta.....  What happens over meat balls???

HEDONIC HUNGER - FANCY THAT...

Obese Robert in Hawaii - 2009

DATELINE - NAPLES

The University at Naples has released the results of a study on why we eat, even when not hungry.

They call it 'Hedonic Hunger'.  Eating for pleasure, to enjoy the taste.  Fancy that...

Who funds these reports?  Does not take a rocket scientist to know why folks will always find room for that cake, or ice cream, or choco.

After all of these years, big as public transport, do you not think MOI had a clue as to why the lovely treats found way to cake hole?

This report follows on the heels of another that finds that over 40% of Americans will be 'obese' in some 20 years.

There be some who feel that the old geezer bangs on too much about weight.  Bloody hell, one is constantly reminded of just how about being FAT.  The diet industry works in over drive to remind us.

MOI used to call self 'overweight', OBESE more like. Found clever ways to adjust the weight. Went so far as to lie about weight on ID card.  Told was only 200 pounds, when the weight was well over 300...

With the new found dislike for groceries, the pounds are dropping off.  Will know just how much when a trip to scales is made on the 22nd of May, the day before returning to see doctor.

What can be revealed is that taste is still gone, and MOI is eating to live, not living to eat.  Odd that, as when younger, that is what was done, weight was no problem and remember weighing 170 on 40th birthday.  Was 144 pounds at university.  That was before I fell in love with FAT.

Took a BMI test and saw that if weight gets down to 180, MOI is still considered 'overweight'.  How funny, but will be most pleased if that is the case.

MOI keeps thinking of the poor chap in UK.  58 stone he is.  Do you not think that some of the food pictured with him, is the constant wanting to pleasure self? What you see in the snap is but part of the groceries he piles away.  Truth be told, many of items featured were pure delight to the old geezer as well.  Now, there is no desire to eat.  One hopes to never taste crips again...

EATING IS SUCH A CHORE

The real shocker these past 10 days is how horrid bread is to eat.  Not sure if it due to massive sense of metallic in mouth or just how horrid it has become to eat and swallow the stuff.  Mind, this coming from a chap who never met a loaf of bread with melting butter on he did not fall in love with.

How I miss bread.  Me memories of bread are very strong, going back to Paris ans San Francisco.

The old geezer adores pasta.  When this was served up, it did not go over well.  Forget about the sauce, it just lay on the plate and haunted me.  Took three small, and I mean small, tastes and gave up.

Normally, 'toad in the hole' is one of me favourites.  Again, the attempt to eat eggs was very hard to do.  Not only were the not appealing but did not like the mixture in mouth.  Set me tummy on edge it did.  I am quite fond of 'baked beans over toast' and when tried, was able to get down but a slice before me tummy said ENOUGH...

House mates dined on chicken the other night.  Tried to eat chicken a few days ago and it came off as very dry.  Mind, I did manage to put a small piece between some bread and chew it down.

One thing is sure, me house mates are not put off by my not being hungry.  Last night they finished off a chicken between the two of them, with corn on the cob and large Ceasar Salad.

One of me house mates loves sweets.  Blessed him with a lovely pie, to thank for helping me during the days following the operation.  With the taste of sweet being gone, the very idea of tucking into is now revolting.  This coming from a chap who never met 'fat' he did not like.

Truth be told, if you take away the taste of food, it all seems like so much poo.  There is no desire to add condiments to anything fixed, as it does not matter, not going to improve taste.

Along with the complete turn off to food, is the effort required to eat the bloody stuff.  My craving is gone, and I mean gone.  There are times that am quite ill at the thought of eating.

Can you imagine?  The old geezer could not pass the ice box without hearing "I am calling, YOUUUUUUUU".  The doors of cupboards would rattle and beg me to open and pull out all sort of things to stuff into me cake hole.

Having dieted in the past, know full well, how hard it can be.  The mind and the body play tricks on to get you to break down and throw in the towel.  The telly features all of the wondrous delights to eat and before long the door to the ice box is torn off and the orgy of eating starts.

This time round, there is no effort required to ignore food.  There has been a complete shut down of temptation.  I do not feel hungry.  I do not crave anything.  Point of fact, I feel surprising good.  I have energy, no headaches from lack of food, or a burning in the tummy to fill it up.

I am drinking massive amounts of water, and pissing up a storm.  My daily visit to the loo has now become a very light chore.

Who ever thought that the old geezer would have to force self to eat.  I manage to try and get some of the vital 4 things needed for health.  With the huge reservoir of fat stored, not bloody likely to die from lack of food anytime soon.  And as long as I try to eat something, keeping in mind the 4 vital groups, do not feel any great harm is being done.  Am quite sure it will be some time before I start to look like a starving POW.

Do I know how long this will last?  No clue.  After 10 days, the sense of taste is gone and more than like for good.  Not a thing one would want but it has come with a silver lining.  There is a very strong possibility that what seemed impossible is going to happen.  MOI is going to be greatly reduced in size...

POST OP DIET CHANGES

Truth be told, it was not until the sense of taste went, that the old geezer gave the roll of smell in how one views food much thought.

Got me to thinking it did.  Found me self trying to remember the last time I actually smelled what was on the dinner plate.  It has been ages since the smell of food got me to salivate or proclaim how deliciously it was going to be going into me gob hole.  That lead me to really give the matter a think on.

I remember quite clearly loving the smells of fresh baked bread.  The different aromas of cheese, wickedly rich smell of good chocolate.  The mouth watering smell of french fries.

It would seem that me sense of smell has been way off for ages and just did not know it.  That was driven home hard, when the operation took the sense of taste as well.

 Contrary to popular belief, the map of taste, is not as clear cut as thought.  The map is all wrong.  Seems that the sense of taste is in degrees and it can vary greatly.

I remember vividly, tearing open a 'family' sized 2 pound bag of M&M's placing in a bowl and feeding them into gob hole.  Remember feeling the chocolate melt and roll over tongue  waves of pleasure through me transport sized body.  The pleasure was so intense that I did not stop until the whole 2 pounds was gone and I was in a sugar stupor.

Last night, having nothing better to do, I went to the kitchen and did some testing.

There was a half full glass of wine.  A lovely Merlot.  I put the glass under me ample nose and smelled nothing.  Mind, it did not smell earlier, but the effect was same, I felt more than tasted the wine.

Next, I opened the ice box and pulled out different items known to have different tastes.

Sweet was easy, placing sweet on all parts of tongue produced no taste.  That was followed by sour, same results as was bitter and salty.  Not one area of the tongue responded with a response that I expected.

One week on, since the surgery, and meal times are not looked forward to with undiluted pleasure.  There is the horrid metallic sensation to begin with, and then there is the right nasty sense that most enjoyed foods now come off as if one is eating saw dust.

There is no snacking of any kind.  Rather think that my intake is off by 60% or better.  Because food holds no enjoyment, I find me self masticating each and every bite, very slowly.  That means that I fill up with so much less than before and do not want to linger at the table.  I have to force me self to eat.

The above snap is of the old geezer, on holiday, in Hawaii, 2009.  As you can see, it is a close race between the statue and self, as to who is largest.  Look at that massive face, the belly, below waist pouch of hanging fat, the legs.  Arms are huge as well.  Had almost reached the high point of FAT, which was just a tad over 400 pounds.  Remember I am but 5'8" and I was wearing a 4x t-shirt and shorts that were over 50 inches.  Even after being on a diet for two years, the loss of 170 pounds, the old geezer was still fat.

I was massive in size because I took delight in food.  There was comfort in every bit of fat that went into me gob hole.  Truth be told, fat tastes bloody good.  You crave it, lust after it , die for it.  At least that is what I did.

To my credit, I got religion and went on a diet, lost loads of fat.  BUT, I still craved the pleasure of food.  In times of stress or depression, a carton of chocolate ice cream was not safe in the same room as I.  Crisps were another comfort food and endless bags were consumed. Then I  would fast and get under control and wait for the next binge.

The minute I discovered that food had no appeal, the craving went away.  I mean completely.  Not having any taste, it was too much of a chore to be bothered with something that had no enjoyment. It is as if a switch has been thrown.  Know now why sick people drop massive amounts of weight.

The mystery of weight control had finally been revealed.  Take away the main attraction of food, its taste, and pleasure derived from, and it becomes a simple act of eating to stay alive.  How simple.

While it is not something I would wish on anyone, the loss of taste has not been a total loss.  They say that it brings with it a dramatic change in how one views food.  You think?  One week on, and the scales tell that 7 pounds are gone.  Why eat if groceries do not call to? 

The experts tell one that some of the delight might return, months down the road.  Mind, taste is gone, will never return to what it was before the operation.  I rather think I am in the group that will have a complete dietary change.  I must tell true, I am not hungry, when I feel the need to eat, I do.  Just require so much less to fill up and walk away from table.  That is not entirely a bad thing.

I return to see the doctor in one month and rather think he will see a whole different person.  I may never weigh 144 pounds again in me life, but think it will be so much lower than am at present.  I will have to let you know in one month when I do another weight check.

This old geezer can travel the chat show circuit and tell one and all the real secret to dramatic weight loss.  Might make a fortune...

POST-OP DOCTOR VISIT A MIXED BLESSING

As the old geezer sat in the waiting room, looking  about the room, it came as a bit of a shock just how much sound was missing from me life.  The telly could not be heard.  Conversations going on round were not heard.  Small Children playing could not be hear.  Paul chatting with two patients waiting was beyond my ability to listen in on.  Point of fact, the room was very quite, although was told that there were many sounds at play.  I have entered a new phase in the downward slide to total loss of hearing.  Major effort has to be made to hear anything at all, and that is dependant on the co-operation of folks round.  I can catch sound, it just is a whole lot harder.

I had prepared a list of things to ask the good doctor and he was more than willing to answer all of me questions.

First off, the old geezer apologized for shouting when last in office.

First question asked was about the loud ringing and swishing sounds heard.  That noise is not real but coming from the brain.  The Tinnitus can be more pronounced after the surgery had.  In some cases, the ringing and swishing can be more severe after surgery and never go away.  My doctor believes that in time, and one must remember that it has been but one week since I had the operation, the Tinnitus may well sort itself out.  He pointed out, however, that that may not be for me.

Second question asked was about loss of sense of taste and the very strong metallic taste.  The good doctor explained to me that in order to do what he had to do to remove the massive diseased areas, a nerve was cut.  That nerve controls the taste on the tongue.  That means that sense of taste on tongue is lost forever.  The sense of taste, sweet, salty, sour and bitter are controlled by the tongue.  Meaning that there might well be some taste to come back on the very right side of the tongue.

I was also informed that smell plays a role in how things taste, and while there was nothing done to impair me nose, there could be other reasons for that being off as well.

Truth be told, the old geezer failed to ask the proper questions in going into this operation.  The good doctor reminded me that in order to bring the horrid disease under control, he had to do loads of cutting away.  The damage to bones and nerves was massive.  I have no doubt the the good doctor had a right hard time clearing up the damage.  He also did reconstructive surgery to ear canal and ear drum.

I was quite honest in telling the doctor that had I known just how severe the operation was going to be, I would not have done it.  The problem with that stand, as the doctor clearly pointed out, was that the damage was MASSIVE, not responding to treatment, and all the while, nasty things were eating away at everything in its path.  Rightly so, the doctor reminded me of just how huge the problem was, and failure to do the operation, would have more than like continued the decline and could have caused to to suffer brain infection that would kill.  In other words, I was damned either way.

I had to be reminded that I am over 60, take thyroid drugs and high blood pressure medication.  ALL of which play into the loss of taste and smell.

I keep coming back to my sense that the operation would be a 'piece of cake'.  Too wrong.

I have the good fortune of having a most clever ENT man.  He knew what had to be done and did it.  He never promised me miracles.  He just told me that when he was finished, the diseased parts of the ear would be gone forever.  Given the state of me poor ear, I have no doubt that he dug, cut and jack-hammered away to do it right the first time.

It may well be that I was told about some of the losses, but was so locked into me face dropping, that it never registered.  Mind, given that the old geezer loves his groceries, you would think I would have locked in on the loss of taste.

The plug from ear was removed as were the stitches behind the ear.

TIME will heal some of my complaints.  More time than I have allowed so far.  We are talking months.  Like the numbness of ear, all of the nerves were cut to peel it back and it is going to take months for that to sort self out.  What may have been lost or gained in hearing is also going to take time.  I have to face this one day at a time.  I need to not be so impatient.  Go with the flow...

The good news is that the nasty headaches are all but gone.  The pressure in head is greatly reduced.  The vertigo is way down.

My ears do not look normal inside.  The right ear suffered a major blow out last year and that has left its marks.  No doubt the left ear is quite different now.  Hearing tests have revealed that even with hearing devices, the level of hearing to be gained is never going to be anywhere near normal.

I still have some hearing.  Bit off at the moment, but am not completely deaf.  The trick will be to see if the operation keeps it a levels before the surgery or it drops further.  I am much better at reading lips, reading faces and getting myself placed correctly to help the sounds get to me.  My days using the telephone may well be limited.

All in all, I rather think that things are going well.  The surgery gave me the three things hoped for.  Massive win I should think.

While it is a quality of life issue not imagined, the loss of taste, does come with its good side.  More than like will drop a stone or two in weight.

I have had loads of time to get used to loss of sounds.  There are many things I will never hear again.  I will have to be more careful.  Will I miss the sound of a fart????  Or a mobile???