Where the Weight Came From
I've struggled with my weight for most of my life. When I was a kid, I was always the chubby one. I remember a time when my mom actually took me to a doctor and asked her how to get me to lose the weight because I was lazy and wouldn't exercise (she had at one time offered to pay my sisters and I to walk on the treadmill. It wasn't a significant amount and I was too lazy to even earn a couple bucks.... the treadmill was right next to the couch in the tv room. I chose the couch). The doctor told her that if she would limit my food intake, I would grow into my weight. I was 12 years old and 198 lbs. (I remember this because the paper it was written on hung on the wall for a decade). My mom would give me significantly smaller portions than the rest of the family. I'd watch my two skinny, high metabolism sisters eat a big dinner while I got less. I don't remember every actually being hungry, but I do remember feeling picked on and that's when I started to build resentment towards my mother. Even the kitchen pantry and fridge had locks on it. Thus began my life of depression! I know my mother meant well, but I can already think of several other approaches that would have been better.
By age 15, I had grown a few inches and lost weight. I was down to 119 lbs and looked borderline anorexic. I was eating smaller portions and used to it (the kitchen was no longer on lock down), but I was still not eating the right foods. No one had taught me. My whole family ate fattening foods on a regular basis (including many home-cooked meals). At school, I would eat a thing of fries and a carton of milk for lunch every day. Occasionally I would have a soda, but I was never a big soda drinker (I dont like the carbonation. I actually prefer flat soda).
By 16, I had my first job at Bakers Square. The food and pies are AMAZING and the cooks always cooked my meals just how I liked. I never brought food with me to work. I would eat what I ordered from them and was always taking pies home. I had also began dating. Steve, the boy I was dating and another lucky high-metabolism person, like my sisters, was always taking me out to eat burgers, cheese fries, and pizza. The combination of the two began to catch up with me and I bounced between 150/160 for the next few years. I remember one night at work, the seam of the butt on my pants split. My manager had actually told me to stop eating so much. I was humiliated (fortunately, that manager is gone and only the one I have fond memories of still works there).
At age 18, I moved out the summer of high school graduation and moved to Utah for my first year of college. I was ordering pizza constantly and cooking lots of baked potatoes smothered in broccoli cheese soup and butter, pizza, chicken strips (my fav) and fries with 'Some Dudes Fry Sauce' (only available out there. Good thing I don't live there anymore because that stuff is addicting). A roommate of mine, Karla, convinced me to join the gym with her. Neither of us had cars so we'd walk several blocks to the gym. On the way, we'd pass a Carl's Jr. (the west's version of our midwest Hardees), and I'd stop and eat there several times. One time, I even took a burger with me to the gym and at it in the locker room! Yep, seriously. At the time I thought it was funny; now, it's an embarrassing, shameful story.
My time in Utah stayed around 170 lbs. I didn't even go to the gym much. I think the only reason why I didn't gain a ton of weight was because I didn't have a car and I lived in a mountain. I had to walk uphill for 6 blocks to get groceries, which I'd buy TONS of, so I'd walk home carrying what must have been 50 lbs of food.
Towards the end of my academic year, I found some people I went to high school with online and chatted with them. One of them was best friends, and roommates, with the guy I had a crush on since 7th grade but had never spoken to. He introduced us and we chatted every day/night for hours. I moved back home as soon as I could, where I ended up having to have surgery to remove my gallbladder that August. I spent the semester at a local community college and then convinced my parents to let me move an hour and a half away to go to school where my dream guy was.
He (Michael) and I began dating and very quickly fell in love. He was so amazing to me and I learned alot from him. However, we distracted one another from school. He was still able to pull off decent grades and graduate with his bachelors. Unfortunately, I was too distracted and landed only with a non-transferable Associates. I moved in with him and his friends, where I'd cook for them all. The guys ate such huge portions that I began eating the same. They'd all eat their own pizzas as well. I couldn't share with any of them since they each ate a full one, so I'd have to order my own... which I'd end up eating all of as well. Horseshoes (a famous meal from my hometown) became a regular meal. I followed him back to our hometown and we continued to eat lots of fast food and junk. He was super athletic and trained hard in the gym. Towards the end of our 5 1/2 year relationship, he started getting on my case more and more about my weight. I was also on new medication to help with insomnia. The meds would make me get up and eat a crap load in my sleep. I wasn't even aware of it until one day I had asked him where all the chicken nuggets went and he said, "I yelled at your a couple nights ago about it. You were eating the entire bag and wouldn't stop!" I didn't believe that I was doing that in my sleep, and I didn't believe him either. I figured he ate it all and was just being a jerk because he was always looking to get on my case about weight.
He began rejecting me and ignoring me. Telling me that I needed to dress up even to run an errand because you never knew who I could run into and he didn't want his friends or coworkers seeing me not at my best. He wanted my hair done a certain way, and I would try and try but it was never right. When I'd dress up and try to get him to acknowledge it, he would say, "What? Am I supposed to say congratulations for being normal?" I would go to bed alone at night while he played video games. I'd always have dinner ready for him when he got home from work (except the occasional forgetting an ingredient, in which he would get super pissed at me for even asking him to go to the store and pick it up real quick. He'd also get annoyed at me for asking for help with draining a huge pot of noodles). Soon as he got done eating, it was straight to video games. I got tired of going to bed alone and never having any time with him, so there were nights when I actually would lay on the floor next to his gaming chair and fall asleep so I could be by him. Still, he never acknowledged me. The depression grew dramatically and I would begin to say things I didn't mean like, "I hate you" and "your a jerk", where he'd throw a "bitch" back at me. There were times I would stay at the gym from 8:00 pm to 3:00 in the morning and he would never say "good job". He'd ignore it and continue to point out my weight. The depression just made me feel worse and worse and I turned to food more and more to make up for the attention he refused to give me. I had already forgave him once for cheating on me (and later found out he was still talking to the girl and tried to hide it from me and expected me to just trust him again automatically), then, one day at work, I just broke down with one of the random panic attacks I was experiencing around that time. I texted him about it, hoping for him to give me some sort of moral support. Instead, he text me back saying it was over (the first time he dumped me was over Instant Messaging, but he would still have sex with me, leading me on. When the girl he had cheated on me with dumped him, he took me back... I should have known better. It was less than a year until he cheated on me and dumped me again). I went home from work in tears and took enough Xanax to help me relax and go to sleep. The next morning, he told me I needed to pack up my stuff. I couldn't believe it. I started screaming at him. He was really the one dumping me!? And over a freakin text message when I needed him!? I wasn't even satisfied in the tears he had in his eyes. He couldn't even look at me. It took all I had not to clock him in the face. He left for work and I packed up my stuff as quick as I could.
I moved back in with my parents and took two weeks off work. I did what I did during our last breakup (which had only lasted a couple months and I had also dropped a good chunk of weight then), I made a profile on a dating site and cried non stop. I met this nice, older (40), but still pretty attractive guy named Daniel. I still can't believe he was willing to listen to me cry and blubber on. We still talk to this day. Anyways, the only guys I had actually gone out with from those sites ended up having only one thing on the mind.
After a couple months, I found a home in a neighborhood nearby that was up for rent and the price was unbeatable (which I later began to regret but that's another story). I moved in and since no one could say anything about what I ate, I spent all my money (including credit) on fast food and candy. In the course of 1 year, I spent nearly $10,000 on food. True story. I had then jumped from 230 (when Michael dumped me) to nearly 300 in that one year. I began having health problems. I was on a never ending period for multiple months and went to the gym one day and returned with swollen feet and ankles that wouldn't go away. My doctor told me I was pre-diabetic. My mom had also just been diagnosed as pre-diabetic. I had heard horror stories about diabetics losing body parts, so I quickly began cutting back on sugar (but not fat or salty stuff). I was able to get out of the pre-diabetic range. Unfortunately, my mom still refuses to even try and is now a Type 2 Diabetic with a world of problems. However, during that time, I was making several trips to the doctors office for appointments and tests. I gave my employer the required doctor notes to be excused, but was still fired and couldn't even get Unemployment or Disability. I had to move back in with my parents.
For awhile, my older sister was baking a cake each week. My mom fills empty prescription bottles with candy and also has issues eating in her sleep (we often find her with melted chocolate on the bed or a hot dog hanging out of her mouth). I had discovered that I was eating in my sleep when I woke up to a million candy wrappers around me.
Fast Forward... I've now been living with my parents and my older sister (my younger sister living in Cali and is prob the only child my parents are proud of) and it's been about 2 1/2 years since the break up. It took me a good two years to quit being sad about it and wishing I could fix things... as if it were completely my fault. I've finally realized its NOT completely my fault and I do NOT want him back. I admire the things he was in the beginning of our relationship, but as for the person he became, I hope he never puts another woman through what he put me through. No one deserves that pain. We had just been looking at buying a house together only like a month before he dumped me and went on a cruise with another girl (the same one his parents invited us on that he made every excuse in the book to not go on with me). Yes, as you can tell I'm still very angry about it and will be for awhile. I would be happy if he could just admit he was a jerk, but I know that will NEVER happen. He has too much pride.
Anyways, my mom eats like crap. My older sister eats the worst of us all. She's average size now, but has a bit of a tummy. I calculated each of our meals at dinner once and she topped us all wither over 1,000 calories, which she followed up with ice cream even after I told her of her calorie total. And the next day she came home with a bag of donuts! I am post surgery now, but still have the same struggles. My family eats junk and it's hard to eat healthy when I'm surrounded by junk. In fact, I get flat out angry when I see someone (in my family) eating bad. They just don't care at all. I know I can't control what they eat and I wish I didn't get so mad about it, but I do.
My dad pays for most of my groceries, and everyone puts what they want on the list. However, my stuff is often either eaten or thrown out to make room for more of their crap. For example, I'll get the ingredients for something I want to make. I'll even write my name on everything, but still, a family member will take it for something they want to make, thus ruining whatever recipes I had in mind and I'm left with only junk frozen food or macaroni options. The only thing I've manage to keep people off is my drinks (see my "sex appeal" entry), unless they decide to just flat out throw it away and put another one of their sugary juices in its place. I even was given a second fridge in the basement to use, which isn't easy on my knees to go up and down the stairs for constantly. Even then, my sister has recently taken it over. She's become a serious junk food addict (even her fridge looks like a grocery store). Part of me wants her to gain a few pounds to see what it's like to stress about weight, but I don't think that'll ever happen.
Mom continues to have health problems but her excuse is, "We have good health insurance". Not to mention, she's never really worked and dad pays for EVERYTHING. If she had to pay for even one of her own medical bills, I bet she'd be singing a different tune.
Dad is the healthiest of us all. He's at a healthy weight and eats decent. He still eats fast food, but he does balance it with a lot of fish and smaller portions.
Making the Decision
With all the stress my weight was causing on me emotionally, as well as physically (I was even beginning to have problems with waking up in the middle of the night, gasping for air), a friend of mine, Lacie, suggested I look into bariatric surgery. Someone she knew had it (her aunt I believe, and I believe it was Gastric Bypass) and was successful with it. Lacie is a blond haired, bright blue eyes, big dimples, super tan girl that I compare to a Barbie doll cuz she's so freakin' perfect (I've wanted to look like her ever since I met her in middle school. I actually used to be super intimidated by her but as I grew up, I've gotten over MOST of my shyness and we chat quit a bit... she's even helping me find a job so I can move out again!) If she told me, "I drink this and eat this and do this to look the way I do", I would've jumped on it. She could've easily sold me placebos for $100 and I WOULD HAVE DONE IT! However, I shot done the weight loss surgery quickly. I said no way, that's for people who are like 400+ pounds (as I was already above 300 and still gaining) and it's just a quick fix. I was determined that I was going to earn it and not have some shameful surgery. As the weeks went by, I found a show called "My 600 lb life" which was a short documentary series (you can actually find it on YouTube now... Melissa is my favorite. I think she's every one's favorite actually) where a few people were followed and had gastric bypass surgery. The show followed their successes and even failures. It showed that it wasn't easy and it's not a quick fix... you can even gain weight with the surgery! I started looking into it more, researching the various bariatric surgery options online, making sure my text sources were credible. I had even followed vlogs on YouTube. My primary physician encouraged me not to do that, but I did anyway. I know people are more likely to post a video complaining than they are to say "this was great". However, I got several 'this was great's and enough information to actually inquire more questions for me to ask my doctor and surgeon about. I thought it was pretty easy to decide which surgery I wanted, the Vertical Sleeve Gastrectomy. I went to my doctor and told her what I wanted. She told me what to expect and referred me to a surgeon. I've known my primary physician all my life so I didn't even look into specific surgeons. I knew she would recommend someone and I would be perfectly happy with her recommendations. I was at the end of my time where my dad's insurance would cover me and I was worried the new one wouldn't cover it. My new insurance was already difficult to find because of my weight (other insurance companies wouldn't take me). I trusted my dad to get me the best 'deal' out there (while also actually helping to cover all my prescriptions), and I was worried this 'deal' wouldn't cover bariatric surgery. Fortunately, it did.
The Months Following Up
I was surprised my new insurance not only covered the surgery, but they also DID NOT require me to do a six month, doctor supervised diet. However, the Bariatric Team for my surgeon does require that you prove yourself a worthy candidate for them first. At the time, I was asking my dad if I could just go to Mexico and do it already (my grandmother, his mother, had recently passed away and he was using money she left him to cover the appointments not covered by insurance, or the extra amount after insurance). He told me he didn't feel safe with me going to Mexico for surgery. Luckily, I have a wonderful bariatric team and I am grateful that I stuck with them.
Linda, my Physical Therapist, evaluated my stamina and began working with me on making out a workout plan. She would always tell me to go slow. However, I'm a "0 to 200" (as my Nutritionist called it), so I tend to wanna jump in full force as if Jillian Michaels were watching. When I do that, I always get burnt out and Linda knew that would happen before even getting to know me. She would only let me walk with some stretches she assigned me for specific parts (specifically my lower back pain).
I also met with Wendi, a social worker. I was super nervous about her. I had heard from support groups that she was a real ball buster. I sat as straight as I could in those appointments. I answered honestly, but admit I may have put a slightly more positive spin on some things. I didn't want her thinking I was too depressed to lose weight, because I already knew my depression was getting tons better. Turned out, she's super adorable and so nice (everyone on the bariatric team is nice! There's no reason to be afraid... they truly are there to help.) What's funny is now I email her like "I need advice!" rather then be nervous I'll get in trouble for feeling a certain way.
Tiffany is the nurse I had a consultation with. I did not see her again until I was awake from surgery months later and now I have follow up appointments with her. She and my nutritionist talked about my problems with IBS, which I had suffered with for YEARS (no doctor prescribed any medication that helped), but these two immediately were like, "oh yeah, you need this..." and it WORKED! That alone was worth a million bucks! I'm so happy not to have to deal with that anymore. I had no idea these girls would make that problem go away.
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| 50 lb difference |
For the next couple of months, I was to 'build my plate' with 50% non starchy vegetables, 25% starch, and 25% protein. At first I thought 'there's no way I'll be full if I'm mostly just eating some leaves!", but it does work! I even crossed off the starch because I was fine without it. However, Angie told me it was important to have some carb/starch with protein, so I put that back in. Weight began falling off, and mostly just because of the diet (I didn't go to the gym everytime. I felt like if all I could do was walk, it was pointless.. once again, I'm a 0 to 200 kind of gal). As they say, it's 80% nutrition... they were right!
The PreOp Diet
Two weeks before surgery (which was scheduled for December 17, 2012), I was put on a preop diet. This diet is different from surgeon to surgeon (I've learned this chatting with Sleeve patients from around the world in a Facebook group), but they still share the basics. I was to consume as much of approved liquids as possible (crystal light, Gatorade, chicken broth, etc) and I could have raw or steamed non starchy veggies. Angie told me I couldn't have any dressing, but I could make an approved dip.... greek yogurt with ranch seasoning. I think most Greek yogurts are sour, but the plain Chaboni (sp?) brand was perfect. I mixed with just a couple teaspoons of the Hidden Valley Ranch dry seasoning mix. I couldn't stand steamed veggies without salt and butter, so I had alot of this homemade, approved dip with raw broccoli, cauliflower, carrots. I even munched on plain sugar snap peas. Yum! I was also approved for a limited amount of sugar free jello or sugar free pudding. I was to also drink protein shakes.
After surgery, you'll be drinking lots of protein shakes, and since you dont want to buy a full sized container of something you dont like, Angie suggested I purchase some protein shake samples to try during my preop diet, so I could decided which I liked and which I didnt.
The preop diet, in my opinion, is the worst part of the whole thing. I told them I never cheated, and that was the one straight lie I told my bariatric team, and I feel super bad about it. I ate plenty of cottage cheese (even though they said it wasn't allowed) and plain crackers. I also had some cheese (the stuff on a block that you cut yourself... not the pre-cut or pre-shredded junk filled with chemicals and other fillers/preservatives). My mom came home with a huge fried chicken dinner and the smell drove me wild, especially since I was so sick of the same stuff over and over. I stuffed my face with about half of a friend chicken breast... or wing... I don't remember. I remember I had grease all around my mouth and hands because I literally just went caveman on the stuff. I got sick to my stomach afterwards. I had also gotten a thing of Chicken Selects from McDonalds once with some fries and honey mustard. It also made me sick. I'm not sure if it's just me or not, but if I don't eat greasy or 'heavy' foods for awhile, and then suddenly I do, they make me sick. Maybe this was part of the IBS thing? I dunno... I didn't get my IBS medicine until I had told them about it AFTER surgery).
I had heard horror stories online of patients not getting their surgeries because the surgeon went it and decided their liver was still too big. I denied cheating and figured, "if they've already got the surgery started, they're more likely to go ahead and do it than back out." I was lucky that the written report I was given after surgery said my liver looked good. I do NOT encourage anyone to cheat. However, I know it's super hard and it'll make you want to binge like crazy, so I say if you just HAVE to cheat, stick with fat free or low fat cottage cheese and plain crackers.
The Night Before
The day before surgery I had to drink a laxative. I thought it was going to be gross, but it tasted alot like Sprite.... only a little more sour. I also thought I'd be on the toilet forever and cramping. However, since I had ate so much less for the previous two weeks on the pre-op diet, there really wasn't much to get rid of in my intestines. It wasn't the horrifying experience I thought it would be.
I was so excited I couldn't sleep. People say that if you say you weren't scared, you're lying. I really wasn't though. There was one moment where I had some concern that they would think I was asleep but wasn't really. I have such a high tolerance on sleeping pills with my insomnia and that was where the concern came from. However... (if my Speech teacher is reading this, she's prob got a tally going on how many times I say certain words, like 'however'. SORRY MRS PROTZ!), my dad reminded me that my mom also has insomnia and takes a whole lot more sleeping pills than me and has had multiple surgeries without any problem. After that, I was fine and just couldn't wait to get there and get my sleeve!
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