Describe your behavioral and emotional battle with weight control before learning about bariatric surgery.
You know, I wasn't really overweight as a child. The word "fat" was used as a weapon of control against me my whole life, and because of that I thought I was fat. Looking back at the photos of me as a child, a young teen, and even a teen ager, I wasn't fat. I may have needed to lose ten to twenty pounds, but certainly nothing that should have caused the constant ridicule or self-esteem bashing that I took all those years. I was athletic. I was constantly outdoors, could do back-flips, walk on my hands, rode my bike for miles and miles, and was very healthy. Why then was I considered "fat", and why did I end up at 45 years old needing gastric bypass surgery because I had in fact become morbidly obese at a weight of 365 pounds?
I believe it was because I was not taught, or even given permission to love myself. I was on diets from the time I was 13 years old, trying to lose that tiny bit of baby fat that protruded over my too-tight jeans, hiding it behind layers of oversized clothing while my "skinny" friends wore tight clothes and flirted with boys.
I did diet, watched everything I ate as it compounded pound after pound on my bones. I believe I dieted my way to 365 pounds. Every time I lost 10 pounds I would gain back 20, then 30. It didn't matter which diet I tried, the end result was always the same, I would gain more than what I weighed when I started, and I did damage to my metabolism by starving myself when I was hungry instead of eating.
I never understood why the diets didn't work, why the pounds began to trap me into a life of seclusion.
I was a busy hairdresser in a popular salon when I think the final dieting "straw that broke the camel's back" happened. I had been working all day, and it was well into the afternoon. Finally I had a break and was anxious to get some lunch, so I went to a eatery next to the salon and ordered a fine freshly tossed salad with a low calorie dressing. I brought it back to the salon, found a quiet little corner and began to eat when a man walked in and looked at me and said, "You're too fat to be eating that!". (I think I weighed about 230 at the time.)
It was a SALAD! Not french-fries and hot-dogs, not pizza, though heaven knows I would have LOVED a slice of hot pepperoni pizza slathered in extra cheese and loaded with sausage. It was a SALAD. Lettuce, tomato, onion, you know, a tossed salad. It didn't even have any meat or cheese in it. I was horrified of his lack of good sense, and yelled out a retort to him, something to the effect of "Well, you're so ignorant your opinion doesn't count."
Well, that was the final straw for me, and I didn't attempt to diet again for many years, and for many years my weight increased, and increased, and increased. Then I heard about the Atkin's diet, and swore the man in the salon could have been Atkin's himself, because the carb-thing seemed to fit me so well. So I thought, why not? I'll try it.
It worked at first. I lost 50 pounds very quickly and was thrilled to find something that was so perfect. Who cared about regular food? I was losing weight and eating the tops of my favorite pizza fixings, minus the crust, and steak and eggs. (Yes, it is possible to get sick of steak and eggs after a while). Burger King Whoppers, better yet, DOUBLE whoppers with cheese, minus the bread, and I was losing weight! Amazing!!! But something else happened. I discovered if I went above my minimum amount of carbs I would quickly gain the weight back. I had to stay under 20 grams the entire time, or I would regain the weight, and this was not good. Carbs are brain food, and you need carbs in your diet. I stayed on the Atkin's plan faithfully for two full years, yet had only lost the 50 pounds and then plateaued for an entire year. I started seeing a neurologist for migraine headaches, periods of mental fogginess, unclear thinking. People would be speaking directly to me and I was not understanding or retaining what they were saying. I had a battery of neurological tests, all came back negative. My mother-in-law belonged to Weight Watcher's and had been trying to get me to join with them, convinced that my problems were from my diet, so after one monster migraine, I did quit Atkin's and join Weight Watcher's.
What a DISASTER! My neurological problems went away, but while girls in my WW class were losing 35 pounds, I was gaining 2-3 pounds a week, still FAITHFULLY following the WW program. When I took my detailed food diaries to my instructor to review, in hopes she could catch a problem or something I was doing wrong, she said she could find nothing. BUT then she said, "Perhaps you could keep better track next time". I was appalled. It was a slap in the face to a person who was desperate not to gain back the 50 pounds it took two years to get rid of, but also a slap in the face to my honesty and integrity. I quit Weight Watcher's.
Onward to the doctors....
Of course my doctor neither believed I was dieting or trying to diet, and he ran all the usual blood tests which came back clear. This only fueled his lack of concern, and from that point on he blamed every little ache and pain I had on my poor diet.
I went to several other doctors for second opinions, third opinions and even a specialist about my thyroid, which it was discovered has a nodule or two, but as they report to me, "Does not interfere with your chemistry", meaning my thyroid is NOT under-active nor causing me to gain weight. So it's all about the food. It must be, right? Of course by now I weigh 350 pounds and can barely walk; much less exercise 30 minutes a day. My metabolism is dead.
One doctor explained to me about the insulin resistance, which I knew some from the Atkin's diet. She said once you reach a certain weight, (which I won't quote here because I'm unsure, but I thought she said 250 pounds) your pancreas begins pumping out more and more insulin, and you become more and more resistant to it, until one day your pancreas burns out or just stops functioning correctly, and you become a diabetic. She said while your pancreas is overworking, you could eat lettuce and gain weight from it because of the resistance to the insulin in your body which helps to chose whether to store or use your food. Well, I don't know if she was 100 percent accurate or not, but it made perfect sense to me. After all, why DID I gain weight on salads?
Then I learned about bariatric surgery. I was totally against it at first. I thought, why should a person have to have their stomach stapled to the size of their thumb? Skinny people don't have to do that. I discussed it with my current doctor, and even he was hesitant to suggest it to me, knowing the risks and believe it or not, still CONVINCED that if I just ate less and exercised more I would lose weight.
So I did. I swam all summer, ate less, kept a food diary for him and he laughed when he read some of my comments I wrote as I counted the calories and complained. I did not lose, and by now his office scale did not go high enough to weigh me in. It only went as high as 350 pounds.
I saw a friend in a store and she told me she had gone to Pittsburgh and had her "stomach stapled". I was amazed by her before and after photos, but NO, it's not for me. Nope, I don't eat that much. Stapling is reserved for someone who wakes up in the morning and has a pound of bacon, a dozen eggs, a loaf of bread, and they're still hungry! I have a cup of coffee which holds me over until noon.
I saw another friend, she'd lost over 100 pounds after the surgery, and still I refused.
Meanwhile, my back pain, the constant ache, everything was trapping me into a life of seclusion. I didn't venture out anymore except to grocery shop or quick trips into the stores for necessities. Walking to the mailbox was a thing of the past. Walking down to our basement was done ONLY when necessary, and I knew my weight was killing me. My husband was so understanding, and he did what he could to help ease the pain. As a matter of fact, I felt horrible seeing him have to do so much for me because I was getting to big to do it myself. I was horrified I would become one of those 1000 pound men or women that had to be removed from their homes. I watched every TV show on weight loss and the surgery, watched the operations, and had started seriously considering it.
Then one day my phone rang, and an old time friend told me she saw me out shopping. She told me she had just had the surgery herself, and suggested I attend a monthly meeting her doctor holds on the third Wednesday of each month. I told her I would consider going with her sometime, but I still wasn't ready.
The day I decided it was time, my husband and I had been talking about my back pain, and discussing the stories we had seen on TV. He said he loves me no matter what size I am, and if I wanted to do the surgery he would also support me. So I then said, Well, lets do it. And we began the journey together.
The first thing I did was to go to that meeting my friend told me about. I didnt tell her I was coming, (in case I backed out) but my husband and I attended the meeting together, met the doctor and got a lot of our questions answered.
What was (is) the worst thing about being overweight?
Believe it or not, the pain in my back, legs, and hips. I could live with the other stuff, like going to larger size stores for clothing, even the look of being overweight, but the pain makes your life miserable every moment of the day.
If you have had weight loss surgery already, what things do you most enjoy doing now that you weren't able to do before?
OH MY!!! I DO EVERYTHING NOW. I can walk without too much pain (I still have bad knees and some back and hip pain) I am always on the go. I just learned how to ride a motorcycle and got my license last Saturday. I can walk without being out of breath, I go dancing, I can fit into a booth at a restaurant, I can wear high heels and pretty dresses, and I am enjoying life like I never did before!
SunnyDisposition
