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Goodbye
Shh...don't tell anyone!
Proof is in the Low Fat Pudding
Shout to the Top!
What's on the Inside?
Born Again...and Bloody Irritating
The Itch is Back
What They Didn't Tell You - Part 1
Help Me Help You
Dragon Slayers
Guess Who Came to Stay
The Law of Sod
The biggest mistake I made before undertaking this step was not to make the decision with my partner. Instead I chose to research and make the decision entirely alone. I chose to not discuss my fears with anyone and let the decision be made before I told a soul. When I did tell, it was already well decided in my mind that I would do it. In hindsight, I would probably have realised that this was to be a shared experience and needed buy-in and approval from everyone affected. I do admit that the way I did it was perhaps selfish. I won’t defend it, as I believe now it should have been done another way.
My second mistake - but one that I am not so sure was entirely wrong, was not to inform my friends until it was all done. This was again because the procedure was so huge to me that I wanted to be in and out of it before anyone could grill me and make my life too stressful before I undertook the seemingly controversial operation. I think that they now feel slightly distant from me as I was unable to share this with them - which perhaps I should have done. My excuse for that is hopefully well understood and forgivable.
My weaknesses can be pretty much listed out verbatim. I am well aware of them and pretty much everyone who knows me is also very well read on the subject. Again, I won’t excuse the failings - just lay them out on the table.
I am absolutely CRAP with money. I don’t quite understand its value and I can’t hold onto it as long as I should. It has gotten me into some dire situations and I am aware that it has caused some distress to those around me. Never ever lend me money. Ever!
I am a frightful coward. Everything that has any kind of danger attached fills me with dread. I hate roller coasters, flying and high speed. I cower at spiders and tremble at heights. If you are looking for courage in a burly man - look elsewhere.
I am pretty stubborn. Once I have decided upon something - that will always be the right thing in my mind. It takes a lot of persuasion to talk me around to another point of view. Some people may well recognise this as arrogance!
I was (no more) a big drinker. I binged and usually got very “bombastic” in the process. Imposing one’s personality on friends and stranger can be quite daunting for them. Using booze as a crutch to overcome my utter shyness and inability to have a conversation with people was probably not the best therapy.
I have many other weaknesses, but are probably irrelevant for this post - so I will stop self-flagellating.
[*]This blog was set up for two reasons. I needed an outlet where I could do a bit of cathartic self-therapy. Writing everything down in this way seems to be a brilliant tool for exploring one’s mind and really coming to terms with issues that bother you. I recommend it for anyone undertaking a journey like this that they have concerns about. Even if you don’t publish it - write it down. The honesty you can deliver to a uncaring, uninterested computer screen is immense. The second reason was to enable my friends to read my reasons behind my decsion and see more into the process. It gives them the full picture without taking up my entire life talking about it. If people want to know, they go to my blog. Also, I figured it would help people contemplating the operation in the future see the thought processes I went through stage by stage and help them to come to terms with the options available. I’m not entirely sure my readership is that enormous nor whether people actually take in what they read in between the rambling sentences. But, from the few comments I have received, it is ringing a similar chord with other people who have had the surgery. Time will tell if this helps anyone else. [*]Now, the accusations! This blog is simply self-indulgent crap.
Well, it has been an important part in my decision and coming to terms with opting for the surgery. It has also helped others close to me to fully understand what I did. Whereas with talking and conversation - they would only have had the full story. I just wouldn’t have the time to quote the articles in teh blog to all my friends. I can’t really defend the “crap” bit.
I didn’t cater for the feelings of my partner when I made the decision on my own
Yes I did. I shouldn’t have made the decision on my own, but her feelings were very much considered and put into the equation. The trouble is - I didn’t accurately predict what her feelings would actually be. Hence the discussions should have been made. Half of a defence there.
I wasted money on the operation when I could have invested in the family unit and dieted instead like most people.
Sorry - but there is no basis to that one. Firstly - here is a fact. Of all diets - only 3-5% are successful in the long term (reference Dr Jessie H. Ahroni Ph.D., A.R.N.P.). A whopping 95 to 97% of people who diet are wasting their time! I have tried dieting and my mental and physical make-up is such that I was one of the 95-97% of people who failed. I tried for 15 years. This was a last resort as you will probably know by now from my self-proclaimed cowardice. Secondly, me paying for a surgery to keep me alive for many more years than previously expected IS an investment into the family unit. Imagine my salary over, let’s say, 20 years. Lastly, the money spent on the operation is approximately how much I overspent on food and alcohol over two years. So, in conclusion - this has not only cost nothing - it has actually put money BACK IN to the family unit (remembering my fiscal weakness - you may wish to check these facts!). Along with that, it is giving me the opportunity to live a bit longer.
So, there you have it. Now I intend to get on with my new life, in a slightly different way than I had originally planned - but get on with it I shall. Originally posted at: Lap Band Blog
Deal With It
Rage Against the Fat Gene
The Awakening
Sliced and Diced
Time for a Change
Go into a hall of mirrors and look at the biggest, ugliest version of you that you can find and proclaim that you love the way you look in that mirror...do this for fifteen years, whilst praying that someone smashes the mirror. When they do, turn around and realise all mirrors now show the same thing.
Go shopping for clothes that do not exist in your size and ensure that the assistants look down their noses for you having the gall to ask if they stock anything appropriate. Do this every weekend. For fifteen years.
Strap a fully grown small adult woman to your chest and walk around for fifteen years like that - don't worry, she will just hang there and say nothing. She may prod you in the liver once in a while, give you diabetes and make people laugh and be disgusted at you - but that's not too much for you to take is it. When, after trying to get her off repeatedly for fifteen years and you decide the time has come to ask somebody to help you unstrap her...watch out - I understand that people maybe judging you for being a failure or for taking the easy way out.
All I ask is that you close your agaped "O" and think. How bad must my health and self-image be for me to make this choice. Me - the coward of everything; from flying planes to tiny spiders. Me - the hater of hospitals and needles. Imagine how much misery and pain I have suffered quietly for over fifteen years to entrust myself to a surgery that I really wouldn't want to have if I did not have to. Imagine if you were as heavy as me. All I ask is that you empathise, do some research and realise it's not quite what you think and wish me well on my way to being healthy. See you all on this side of the other side. Respect! Originally posted at: Lap Band Blog
Addicted to Happy
Morbid Morbidity
Your chances of dying in your lifetime by a car accident are a shocking 1 in 100.
Your chances of dying by fire or smoke are 1 in 1000.
Now, I don't ever intend dying by any of those causes - but, the figures above haven't stopped me carelessly and recklessly allowing myself to sit in a car on the death-laden roads of Britain. They haven't stopped me walking unarmoured through "Da Hood" of Winchester where gun crime must run amok. They haven't encouraged me to spend the rest of my life in a swimming pool away from the danger of fire (the odds of drowning are 1 in 8942, however in the previous scenario, I imagine the odds would be amended a little). I also found myself reconsidering my weekly Lotto purchase, considering I am 70 times more likely to be killed in an asteroid impact. I realise that these figures are over the course of an average lifetime - so perhaps I should bring it in a little, as my surgery figures are calculated using the timescale from the surgery to 30 days after. Cranking it down to a period of a year, these UK (yay!) statistics lead me to further re-consider my initial balk at the risk. For example, did you know: If you are a man between 25 and 34, you have a 1 in 1215 chance of dying of some cause in the next year. If you are a woman, you unfairly have the better odds of 1 in 2488.
If you are a man between 35 and 44, your chances of death in the next twelve months increase drastically to 1 in 663 and 1 in 1106 if you are a woman.
So, my chance of going under the knife are better than my chances of surviving the next 12 months if I did nothing different! But why even risk that seemingly less scary 0.06% chance? Well, that leads me back to the first statistics I found. What makes the risk acceptable to me is simply this: The average western citizen has a 1 in 5 chance of dying of heart disease. We can all pretty much work out that the 80% that miss the knock-knock-thud of heart disease don't eat the way I do (or "did") or weigh as much as I do (on the way to "did"). What makes it worth the risk is that, having seen my father die at 49 from heart disease, I want to be given the chance to be in that 80% that avoid heart disease. I want to live beyond my 40s and see my grand children. I have tried for twenty years to do it alone - and I think it's time I took a deep breath, admitted I can't do it solo and cross "Da Hood"...in my car...with a lighted candle (perhaps even stopping off at the swimming pool on the way). I think it's time I asked for help. A simple decision when you think about it. Originally posted at: Lap Band Blog
Pre-assessed and Pre-approved
Killing with Kindness
My New Hobby
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