I’m not going to lie and say this is easy. In fact, it’s downright miserable. According to others in the bariatric program I belong to, the surgery where you get 85% of your stomach cut out is the easy part: the hardest is the three week liquid diet! Yesterday was the hardest day so far, because I keep forgetting that I can’t eat anything other than the Optifast or a cup of veggie broth. I’ve not strayed, but the temptation is there. I will not waver, however. I still haven’t taken my “before” pictures nor have I weighed myself as unfortunate the scale is presently out of batteries and I didn’t feel well enough to leave the house yesterday to get new ones. Yes, you feel that badly on Optifast for the first few days.
There is definitely a part of me that mourns the loss of food in the way I’ve always used it (yes, used, as well as consumed – I am addicted to food) and will always. I know that once I get my vertical sleeve gastrectomy that I’ll be able to have tiny portions of treat meals a few times a year after about 18 months post-op. But it’s a slippery slope for me, as I’ve lost significant amounts of weight in the past and have treated myself to “cheat” meals that became cheat weeks, and eventually turned into cheat years. Whilst I’m not as overweight as some of the people who get surgery, I wouldn’t have been approved for this surgery if I didn’t need it. I felt out of control with my eating for so long and I tried absolutely everything, and yes, of course sensible eating and lots of exercise. I always tended to shy away from fad diets like the cabbage soup diet or whatever restrictive diet of the day was, and I’d stick with programs like Weight Watchers, which is tried and true and healthy and balanced. I lost so much weight two or three times on WW over the years, but keeping it off longer than a few years was all but impossible for me. I always felt so ashamed when I’d gain the weight back, as though it was some sort of personal failing and an outward manifestation of some sort of character flaw and weakness.
There’s so much more to obesity than that. It’s so much more than people being lazy, gorging on fast food constantly, and drinking pop non-stop. For me, I ate quite healthy, just too much, and I was a grazer. Always looking for something to munch on, and on a 5’2.5 – 5’3 ft frame, that adds up quickly.
So. We’ll see what today brings. I have a group therapy class about changing eating habits and thoughts/emotions about food this morning on Zoom for an hour and a half — this will be the third week now, and it’s 4 weeks long, which means it will end just before my surgery on October 19. I plan to carry on with counselling after my surgery just to insure long term success. After all, this didn’t happen overnight, and it won’t be fixed by a surgery either — I’ll just be given a wonderful tool and what I do with that tool is up to me. And you can bet your ass I’m not going to fail after waiting two years on a weight list, and a further 5 months from orientation to surgery, with a zillion appointments with doctors, dieticians, social workers, phlebotomists, internal medicine doctors, surgeons, bariatric nurses etc etc etc etc.
I’m in this to win it. And I’m in not in competition with anyone but myself, and goddamn it, I’m proud of the woman I’m becoming, and I know that I’ll be shedding weight, but gaining so much more.
Life is about to begin. I’ve been given this opportunity and I will not do anything to screw it up.
Oh, and to those who think this is the easy way out? Kiss my luscious ass. I’d love to see you do this, and then eat tiny portions of mush for a further six months, with protein powder mixed in to absolutely everything you eat, and for the rest of your life only being able to sip water very slowly in small amounts or end up in extreme pain. No straws, no carbonated drinks, keeping track of not just carbs, calories, fat, but making sure you get in enough liquid and at least 90 grams of protein, and timing yourself at every meal so that you take at least 30 minutes with no distractions like your phone, a book, or even much conversation. Just pure mindfulness. Not to mention the pain, the hardship, and the judgment from others. Actually, I don’t care about people judging me — I think it’s worth it to share my story so that it may inspire others who are thinking of having weight loss surgery (don’t do the lapbands though – they are outdated, 90%+ get removed, and they cause health issues, and each removal costs between $3,000 and $14,000, meaning taxpayers are on the hook for up to $33 million).
I’ll have up some pictures and perhaps videos later on today or tomorrow.