UBM - How it started - surgery
I’d like to think I was a typical kid with a that "cute" amount of baby fat. I probably was but, I believe my mom was fearful of what I would grow up to be. She had a lot of control issues (still does) and this was something that was difficult for her to control. As a child, I experienced some trauma mixed with bullying and didn't feel that I had a voice to express what was going on to anyone and so I began eating as a way to hide from it. To this day, I don't know if my mother knew about the traumatic events or bullying I went through as a kid. I say that because when I try to address them as an adult, I am shut down. I think psychologically, I had two missions at this point in my life: One was to eat to mask my feelings and the other was to eat to become ugly so that people would stop sexualizing me. Because of this, the weight was rapidly piling on and I looked different from the rest of the kids. I believe parents feared that I would struggle socially and opted to get me help; this was where I started my first diet. I was starting the fourth grade would also be the start of a very lengthy dieting career. Throughout the years, my weight yo-yoed as I bounced from diet to diet; trying anything from Jenny Craig to Weight Watchers to Scarsdale to Slim Fast, even going to the extreme and trying, Fen-Phen. You name it, I was on it.
I had little successes here and there but Fen-Phen gave me the greatest results. My senior year I had dropped down to 125 pounds which was not surprising considering the effects of Fen-Phen were equivalent to taking speed. For those that don't know the history of the drug, it was a combination of Doctor prescribed Phentermine (still on the market) and Pondimin (no longer on the market). While the results were incredible, there wasn't enough research conducted prior to it's introduction and studies later found that the effects of taking Pondimin and Phentermine combined resulted in fatal pulmonary hypertension and heart valve problems because the drug was speeding up and slowing down the heart in such a way, the heart couldn't keep up. Essentially, this caused major legal problems for doctors and untimely death for some patients. I'm guessing that because I was so young and extremely active in school (water polo, dance and band) not to mention, I had weekly doctors appointments to have my heart checked, I managed to bypass developing any issues. My mom on the other hand, wasn't as lucky and developed heart palpitations as a result of taking the drug.
Like any study on fad diets where you rapidly lose weight, typical results reflect significant regain either immediately after stopping or over the course of time. In both cases, usually the weight comes back in excess from where the person started. I was no exception to that rule. My weight gain would creep back each year passing milestones from where I had previously started each diet. It was slow enough that I wasn’t realizing it was happening but steady enough that it in 12 years, I had put on 165 pounds. That was an average of 13.75 pounds a year. Truthfully, the pain didn't start developing in my feet and the taser zaps didn't start in my back until the last 5 years before my surgery. I was waking up miserable. It would take me forever to get out of bed because my body felt like the tin man. Everything was stiff and hurt. As for regular life, it wasn't as obvious because like my mother, I controlled everything. I manipulated every situation I was put in. As an example: I avoided mirrors. I didn't need a mirror to get dressed and I used a compact to do my make up. I wasn't traveling, I sat in chairs not booths, if I took a picture, I would hold the camera at a specific angle to disguise the size of my face and would exclude my body, not to mention I avoided amusement parks like the plague. Everything was totally calculated. In group settings, I never let anyone take pictures; I became the group photographer just so I could control the angles. Interestingly enough, I was still going dancing and doing just enough to pretend this wasn't a problem. I kept myself in very controlled environments. I was lucky enough to have friends who didn't care about my size. Silly me, I even had the illusion I was desirable and dating. I've never been one to recognize the games that boys play. They would sweet talk me, I'd pour my heart into what I thought was a relationship, and in the end, all they wanted was sex, even at my size. I never imagined that this could go on for years and that there could be no feelings on their side. We would spend hours and hours on the phone having deep emotional conversations, which I didn't think could be faked but, it was all denial on my side. This has been a pattern that has continuously repeated itself since my weight loss journey started. I suppose there is a part of me that became jaded back then and now, while I'm different in size, my body dysmorphia keeps me from believing I am deserving of anything good. Remember, I still see myself as the size I was before my surgery and that was when these guys taught me that fat girls get played not loved. We will touch more on this topic in a later blog.
The decision:
My eyes really didn't open until my family decided to go back to Indiana. I didn't think much of it. I went shopping, packed my suitcase and was ready to go. We boarded the plane, I sat in my seat and attempted to fasten my seat belt. IT DIDN'T FIT. I thought it was stuck on something and so I stood up and pulled and tugged and pulled and then sat down mortified. It wasn't the seat belt, it was me. The look on my mothers face was one I'll never forget. I wasn't about to embarrass her by asking for an extender, so I did what any resourceful fat person would do. I disguised my seatbelt to make it look like it fit. How? I tucked each buckle under my shirt and folded my hands over the side that was open. When the lady came around to check, I used the other hand to tug on the part she could see making it appear it was secure. She believed me. Lucky me...I had to do this 4 times. Two times going there there and two times coming back home. My step dad wasn't on our flight but I surly remember the minute my mom caught up with him, it was the first thing she shared with him. I wouldn't be surprised if for the rest of the trip it was the only thing on her mind because it was something she couldn't control. Even though she and I were the only ones to see this happen, I was still beyond embarrassed. I guess if obesity had a rock bottom, this was it. Upon our return, my parents and I went to Disneyland. I remember sitting at Carnation plaza watching one of the parades go by when I blurted out to them "I'm going to have weight loss surgery". There was no hesitation from them, just relief and tears of happiness from them.
August 2009, my parents and I went to a bariatric symposium. We learned all procedural options available and agreed that lap band was the right option for me. Within a week I was consulting with my doctor but was quickly made aware that I was not a candidate for lap band as my BMI was too high and my insurance company wouldn't cover that particular surgery. I'd need to have the RNY gastric bypass surgery, which was the most invasive one. In that moment, all I could think of was, "good god, I’m too fat to have lap band". I was devastated. RNY surgery is the most risky and now I have to decide to either try and lose this weight on my own (lose close to 200 pounds) or take the risk. I had one week to make this decision and for that week, I didn't talk to anyone. I read article after article about the process, what to expect, I went through statistics and more importantly, what was the mortality rate during and after surgery. By weeks end, the decision was made and I was moving forward. It was bittersweet. There was a lot of support from my friends and family for me to have the surgery. I kept hearing, "you have such a cute face, now maybe you'll get the body to match. You can finally start living your life"…. I was happy to have the support but I was frustrated that no one expressed concerns about the risks. I suppose they didn’t want me to worry. At the time, I felt they were being selfish for me. Only looking at the superficial parts of this. Oh well... I had to get over it. I was moving forward.
Prior to surgery, I expressed my concerns about dying on the table to my surgeon. He reminded me that I had more of a risk of dying without the surgery than with the surgery. That was the most shocking yet honest bit of information I received. I hadn’t given that much consideration because despite my size, my health was great. I had low blood pressure, low cholesterol and wasn’t at risk of diabetes, YET. But that was just it… yet. It was only a matter of time before everything would take a nasty turn not to mention the years of effort it was going to take to lose that amount of weight I needed to lose to be healthy on my own. My food choices were impacting my liver and while I wasn’t a drinker at the time, I had learned that both fatty liver and cirrhosis can develop from being overweight and that was where my medical problems were starting. All that said, I decided to move forward. The doctor gave me strict orders to drink only protein, broth and water for two weeks so I could shrink my liver before surgery. His goal was to remove my gall bladder and perform the RNY surgery at the same time, if it wasn't too risky.
The next couple of weeks I executed all my tests, psychological exam, and pushed all of the doctors to get their reports in. As luck would have it, my insurance was changing at the beginning of the year and so if I expected to not lose any progress, I needed my surgery to happen in December. Much to everyone's surprise, I accomplished what most felt to be the impossible. I got all my tests and reports back and poof, the surgery date was set, December 29th, 2009. That morning I weighed in and I had lost 22 pounds in two weeks. The doctor was happy and said that would help him maneuver easier in my abdominal cavity. Surgery was a success however, it was still too dangerous to remove my gall bladder and so that was something that was going to have to wait. Post surgery was mostly a blur; however, I do remember being extremely angry. I think the Demerol they used as my pain medicine didn't agree with me. It made me hot and agitated. I was also on an inflatable bed to help keep the blood circulating but it had a hole in it and I ended up sitting on a metal bar the whole time as it was mostly deflated. Because I was in so much pain, I couldn't articulate that my butt was hurting from sitting on this bar. Hindsight, I should have said something because years later it would cause reoccurring issues but we can talk about that later. On a brighter note, I recalled the nurses cheering me on as I walked circles around the floor to get the blood flowing and the gas moving. The next day, I was released and sent home to begin my recovery and let me tell you, that first day was an "effing" nightmare. I was so uncomfortable because of all the gas inside of me. No position helped me feel better. I remember reaching out to my friends who had previously had the surgery but they "couldn't remember" what it felt like and could offer no advice as to what to do to feel better. I remember being scared because it felt like I was having a heart attack (normal). I didn't want to move out of fear I would pop open a stitch or hurt my new shot-glass size of a stomach. Eating, or rather drinking my protein was a joke. I had a cough medicine cup that I would pour my shake into. One of those little cups took about 45 minutes to drink. How was I ever going to get through this was all I kept asking myself. I remember calling the doctor and asking what to do because it hurt to drink. He said, you have to get your liquids in or you are going to die. So, that said, I fought thought the pain and drank what I could. The good news is, as time went on, the process got easier. Introducing food back into my diet was welcoming but incredibly terrifying. I didn't want to regain anything not to mention it was going to take an entire 9 months before I was completely back on solid foods. (I'll dedicate an entire blog to post op)
Stay tuned for one year follow up -
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