Last Monday, a new show called Extreme Makeover: Weight Loss Edition premiered on ABC. Did you watch it? The show follows one participant every episode as they work with a
trainer mentor transformation specialist named Chris Powell over the course of a year to lose hundreds of pounds.
I can’t say I loved the show. Because there’s a year’s worth of material to cover in one hour, there seems to be a lot that’s glossed over. The premiere episode focused on a young woman named Rachel, who went from 369 pounds to 208 pounds (a loss of 161 pounds – almost exactly what I’ve lost so far!). At one point in the episode, Rachel is approved for surgery to get excess skin removed. And basically, the next time we see her, the surgery has happened and she’s all healed up and she’s smiling and happy and there’s no mention of scars or recovery time or anything.
Isn’t a surgery like that a big deal? I’m not trying to be sassy or sarcastic – I really don’t know, but it seems like it would be, and the show skims over a lot of the details. Over the past few months a couple people have asked me if I’d be getting surgery to remove excess skin. My answer has been “I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about it.” And that’s the truth. There are a few places on my body, particularly in my belly (where I used to hold the majority of my excess weight) where my skin seems loose and is puckering. I haven’t researched excess skin removal at all, and don’t really want to. For now, I’d like to continue focusing on losing weight and working out, and maybe, at some point in the future, it can be something I look into.
Extreme Makeover: Weight Loss Edition premiered last Monday, and the reason I’m writing about it 6 days later is because last night, I had a dream that I had undergone an excess skin removal surgery. Chris Powell, the host of the show, was in my dream, always standing off in the distance, arms crossed, never saying anything. The dream began with some doctors removing bandages and gauze, and then inviting me to look at my new body in the mirror. I look in the mirror, and my entire body is covered is criss-crossing scars and stitches. I look like the baby that Frankenstein’s monster and a jigsaw puzzle would have. The doctor tells me that it all went according to plan and was a complete success. I notice there are even scars and stitches on parts of my body that didn’t have excess skin, like my hands.
The doctors say that there are people who are eager to see me, so I should go through the door at the other end of the room. I open the door, and all of a sudden I’m in my condo, standing in my living room, and there’s 20 or 30 other people in there. There are bright lights pointed directly at me, blinding me, so I can’t see else is in the room, except I do notice Chris Powell weaving his way through the crowd, arms crossed, silent. It’s quiet, and in the silence I notice that my body feels tight, and I somehow come to understand that if I make any sudden movements, I’ll break open some stitches, and then all the other stitches will unravel, and my entire skin will fall off me, onto a pile on the floor. This scares the shit out of me, so I want to get out of the room and out of the lights, but I can’t move. My feet feel nailed to the floor. The doctors are nowhere to be found. Then, I realize that it’s not quiet anymore, and the room is slowly filling up with the sounds of laughter. People laughing at me, whispering amongst themselves, cackling and giggling, and it escalates, getting louder and louder, and the lights seem to get brighter and brighter, until I can’t see anything and all I can hear is the vicious laughter of what sounds like hundreds and hundreds of people.
I’ve been awoken by my nightmares before, but I didn’t wake up after this one. In the morning, though, I was able to recall it without any hesitation.
I’m not a big dream analyzer. But I know it’s a fun thing to discuss – so if any of you want to take a crack at deciphering what it means, than please have at it in the comments section.
In the meantime, I’m gonna go for a run.
Keep it up, David!