Check-In

Down to 194 pounds this weekend.  That's 18 pounds since the beginning of December.  Dig on that.

Also, I started a new medication.  And we went old-school this time with Prozac.  It's only day four, but so far so good.  It seems like it's taking at least some of the edge off.  I'm sure there's a cumulative effect before  I really notice it, but that's now part of my daily intake, along with my vitamins and supplements.

I did want to see how or if I needed to watch my alcohol intake, so for purely scientific purposes, I stopped off on my way home on Friday and grabbed a four-pack of Guinness.  Now granted, I've already cut back significantly at shows, and with my playing a vastly more aerobic instrument these days, I just don't even have the free hand to pick up a pint.  But my doctor said one or two beers wouldn't have much of an effect, and I wanted to see for myself.  I decided to skip the lab coat though, and dressed instead in the traditional jeans and t-shirt.  Observing me in my natural habitat.

My doctor was right.  One or two beers is fine.  Three was verging on loopy.  Four?  Well, I'm just glad I was at home is all I'll say about that.  Luckily we don't have any lampshades.  Of course this situation, me at home watching TV and relaxing, is a bit different from being out at a show, physically active, etc.  So at our show the next night I again gingerly waded into the Guinness wilderness, with similar results, although I stopped before things got too loopy.  After all, I had to be fit to actually play the show, and then pack up my car and drive home.  So I cut the Guinness with significant helpings of water.  That's something that's worked in the past for me, and it continued to serve me well on this night.

Alcoholism can be a risk, both due to my family history and the statistics with gastric bypass patients.  And I admit I sometimes don't pay attention to my intake when I'm out at a pub, on stage, and someone's thrusting a pint into my hand every time I turn around.  I enjoy having a drink or two, but if I'm going to get myself back on track, I need to start paying better attention to this.  And I will.

Welcome to the new me.  Or maybe it's the old me.  Whatever it is, it's the real me.