Bette B's 6-year Lapband Journey
(A.K.A. Bette's 6-year bandiversary posting)
All the really interesting stories in the world start with "once upon a time" and end with "happily ever after", so . . . .
Once upon a time, on a sunny, cold December Tuesday morning in 2003, a tired, sickly fat lady lumbered into a hospital in Norwalk, Connecticut. Those first steps began a journey that would bring her a brand-new life - a "do-over", if you will - a life of health and happiness she had forgotten about and, honestly, given up on for many, many years.
She has a lot of medical problems: diabetes, high cholesterol, high blood pressure, sleep apnea, even edema in those slow-moving legs. She was taking many, medications for those problems and even though the medicines made the woman feel better, she knew that without some kind of a miracle, she would soon die from one or more of those horrible medical problems.
This day, at that hospital, she was embracing that miracle and making the first strides in taking back her life. She knew that the journey would not be easy, no matter what people said about this being "The Easy Way Out." She knew that this was not the Easy Way Out, but she felt that this was her last and only way out.
The automatic doors at the front of the hospital opened. For a moment, she saw only the invitation to her new life. She stepped inside. The building embraced her as the doors slowly closed behind her. She grabbed that new life with both hands and never let go.
And she lived happily ever after.
Okay, so it's not the best writing in the world, and it's not meant to be. And some naysayers will scoff that it's just a fairy tale full of lies and "false hope." Well, naysayers can kiss my ass - if they can find it, that is, because it's substantially smaller than it was six years ago. And so is every other part that used to be morbidly obese. This body is smaller, stronger and lighter - about 200 pounds lighter.
Six years ago today, I had my lapband surgery. While I knew that no weight loss is guaranteed with any WLS, I thought that the chances were good that I'd at least lose something. If I could lose even 50 pounds, improve my health and get off some of those meds, I would be happy. More than just "happy." I'd be thrilled beyond belief.
Never in my wildest dreams could I ever have imagined how this journey would go, how fast my loss would be, how quickly my health would improve, and how incredible my "new life" would be. If you had told me, I, too, would have said you were telling me a fairy tale. Well, sometimes fairy tales come true. Not all the time, but happy endings are possible.
I knew that I couldn't do this on my own. Hell, if I could have done it on my own, I would have done it years ago, like I did time and time again. I could lose weight; it just never stayed gone. Somehow, it always found me again. And when it came back, it always brought a whole bunch of friends, so I'd end up bigger than I was when I started whatever thickheaded diet I tried.
And therein lies the tale - 44 years old, pushing 400 pounds, being told that I was having congestive heart failure, barely able to move without pain, stabbing myself with insulin countless times a day, choking down more pills than I could bear - heck, I'm amazed that there was enough room in my stomach to fit any food around all the meds, but somehow, I managed to. Lots of food. Lots and lots and lots of it. Food was my coping mechanism. My "go-to" guy. My dysfunctional friend. Always there and never judging. It was to me what booze is to an alcoholic. What heroin is to an addict. It's what I used to feel better. But enough was enough.
Most of you know the rest of my story. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Here I am, six years later. Still maintaining below my own goal for 4-1/2 years. Off all those meds. Comorbidities gone.
Of course, I didn't do this alone. I have to thank my dear husband for his love and unending support. Everything begins and ends with him. I've told people hundreds of times that he is the reason I had this surgery. If I had been left to my own devices, I would have just sat my big, sedentary ass on the couch, watching reality TV, stuffing my face with Cool Ranch Doritos and Cadbury chocolate, eating myself into a massive coronary. I would have been one of those people you read about in the hews whose body isn't discovered until the neighbors start complaining about the smell from the house next door. It happens all the time.
I wanted to be here with him for as long as I could, and that wasn't going to be very long if I kept traveling the road I was on. I also felt that my obesity was keeping him from doing things he wanted to do, things that we should both be enjoying. Something as simple as spending a beautiful spring day walking around New York City was impossible. Inconceivable, when mere steps felt like glass was grinding in my knees. Now, we're back talking the streets of NYC, but this time, I'm the one wearing him out. And for all his kvetching about how I'm trying to kill him, I think he enjoys the challenge.
I, of course, could never have done this without the skill and care of my surgeon, Dr. Timothy Ehrlich. Tim, as I told you yesterday, I thank you from the top of my skinny little head, to the toes of my no-longer-4EEEE feet. And that "thank you" extends to all his staff, who were always there for me (and all their patients) when I needed them.
And I have to thank all of you. You guys made me laugh when I needed to, and allowed me to return the favor to you. You've been there through some of the sh*ttiest times for my life, and through some of my greatest triumphs. You've been a listening post and sounding board. You joined me on the pity pot and in the B*TCHFest. You supported me and allowed me to do my best to support you. You even allowed me to give some of you a kick in the ass when you wanted one. Thank you or being there every day. Let's pop the champagne and sip-sip-sip to another 6 years, shall we?
And here, for your amusement (or whatever), I give you the many sizes (and hairstyles) of Bette B on that journey from 2003 to 2009. What a long, strange trip it's been.
All the really interesting stories in the world start with "once upon a time" and end with "happily ever after", so . . . .
Once upon a time, on a sunny, cold December Tuesday morning in 2003, a tired, sickly fat lady lumbered into a hospital in Norwalk, Connecticut. Those first steps began a journey that would bring her a brand-new life - a "do-over", if you will - a life of health and happiness she had forgotten about and, honestly, given up on for many, many years.
She has a lot of medical problems: diabetes, high cholesterol, high blood pressure, sleep apnea, even edema in those slow-moving legs. She was taking many, medications for those problems and even though the medicines made the woman feel better, she knew that without some kind of a miracle, she would soon die from one or more of those horrible medical problems.
This day, at that hospital, she was embracing that miracle and making the first strides in taking back her life. She knew that the journey would not be easy, no matter what people said about this being "The Easy Way Out." She knew that this was not the Easy Way Out, but she felt that this was her last and only way out.
The automatic doors at the front of the hospital opened. For a moment, she saw only the invitation to her new life. She stepped inside. The building embraced her as the doors slowly closed behind her. She grabbed that new life with both hands and never let go.
And she lived happily ever after.
Okay, so it's not the best writing in the world, and it's not meant to be. And some naysayers will scoff that it's just a fairy tale full of lies and "false hope." Well, naysayers can kiss my ass - if they can find it, that is, because it's substantially smaller than it was six years ago. And so is every other part that used to be morbidly obese. This body is smaller, stronger and lighter - about 200 pounds lighter.Six years ago today, I had my lapband surgery. While I knew that no weight loss is guaranteed with any WLS, I thought that the chances were good that I'd at least lose something. If I could lose even 50 pounds, improve my health and get off some of those meds, I would be happy. More than just "happy." I'd be thrilled beyond belief.
Never in my wildest dreams could I ever have imagined how this journey would go, how fast my loss would be, how quickly my health would improve, and how incredible my "new life" would be. If you had told me, I, too, would have said you were telling me a fairy tale. Well, sometimes fairy tales come true. Not all the time, but happy endings are possible.
I knew that I couldn't do this on my own. Hell, if I could have done it on my own, I would have done it years ago, like I did time and time again. I could lose weight; it just never stayed gone. Somehow, it always found me again. And when it came back, it always brought a whole bunch of friends, so I'd end up bigger than I was when I started whatever thickheaded diet I tried.
And therein lies the tale - 44 years old, pushing 400 pounds, being told that I was having congestive heart failure, barely able to move without pain, stabbing myself with insulin countless times a day, choking down more pills than I could bear - heck, I'm amazed that there was enough room in my stomach to fit any food around all the meds, but somehow, I managed to. Lots of food. Lots and lots and lots of it. Food was my coping mechanism. My "go-to" guy. My dysfunctional friend. Always there and never judging. It was to me what booze is to an alcoholic. What heroin is to an addict. It's what I used to feel better. But enough was enough.
Most of you know the rest of my story. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Here I am, six years later. Still maintaining below my own goal for 4-1/2 years. Off all those meds. Comorbidities gone.
Of course, I didn't do this alone. I have to thank my dear husband for his love and unending support. Everything begins and ends with him. I've told people hundreds of times that he is the reason I had this surgery. If I had been left to my own devices, I would have just sat my big, sedentary ass on the couch, watching reality TV, stuffing my face with Cool Ranch Doritos and Cadbury chocolate, eating myself into a massive coronary. I would have been one of those people you read about in the hews whose body isn't discovered until the neighbors start complaining about the smell from the house next door. It happens all the time.
I wanted to be here with him for as long as I could, and that wasn't going to be very long if I kept traveling the road I was on. I also felt that my obesity was keeping him from doing things he wanted to do, things that we should both be enjoying. Something as simple as spending a beautiful spring day walking around New York City was impossible. Inconceivable, when mere steps felt like glass was grinding in my knees. Now, we're back talking the streets of NYC, but this time, I'm the one wearing him out. And for all his kvetching about how I'm trying to kill him, I think he enjoys the challenge.
I, of course, could never have done this without the skill and care of my surgeon, Dr. Timothy Ehrlich. Tim, as I told you yesterday, I thank you from the top of my skinny little head, to the toes of my no-longer-4EEEE feet. And that "thank you" extends to all his staff, who were always there for me (and all their patients) when I needed them.
And I have to thank all of you. You guys made me laugh when I needed to, and allowed me to return the favor to you. You've been there through some of the sh*ttiest times for my life, and through some of my greatest triumphs. You've been a listening post and sounding board. You joined me on the pity pot and in the B*TCHFest. You supported me and allowed me to do my best to support you. You even allowed me to give some of you a kick in the ass when you wanted one. Thank you or being there every day. Let's pop the champagne and sip-sip-sip to another 6 years, shall we?
And here, for your amusement (or whatever), I give you the many sizes (and hairstyles) of Bette B on that journey from 2003 to 2009. What a long, strange trip it's been.
Banded 10 years & maintaining my weight loss!! Any questions, message me.
Congradulations Bette, I am so happy for you.....You are truly an inspiration.....I saw you at my Free Seminar and it was your story that made me decide to do this.....my trip down Lap Band road has been bumpy but I have no doubt I will make it...I have 60 lbs to go!!! WOOHOO!!!!!
Happy Baniversary Bette
Happy Baniversary Bette
Shannon K.
WOW Betty - so GREAT to see you here on the CT Boards!! You look wonderful, are still inspirational and deserve a big congratulations on taking your life back and cherishing it!! Unfortunately the band didn't do the "trick" for me and was not a tool I could work with so I revised to the RNY and so far (knock on wood) it's going very well! I'm so happy to hear the band is still doing it's magic for you!
Keep on spreading the good word that miracles do come true....
Keep on spreading the good word that miracles do come true....
Warm Regards - Tammy - 
Congratulations Bette! 6 years is sure a long road and its certainly been a winding journey! So glad the end of that winding road is still working for you and you're keeping on top of all those danger signs! I hate to admit it, but I was there when you joined the support groups 6 years ago!!! And I'm still on that winding journey myself.
Congrats on 6 years!
Mary
Congrats on 6 years!
Mary
Congrats Bette! You rock! I can't believe that it's been 6 years for you, I remember when I was researching WLS reading your story and just saying how cool it was that you've been so successful. If any of you have the pleasure to meet Bette in real life, she's a hoot! Congrats to you and cheers for many more years of continued success!
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