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The day I made the choice to book my appointment for surgery

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SheeShee

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I have been struggling with weight my whole life. I was a fat kid, a fat teenager, fat twenty-something, now I hope to say that I will not be a fat thirty-something.

Sure I have lost 30, 40, even as much as 60 lbs over those years, but it always crept back up. I don’t know why I seemed shocked, it’s not like I woke up one day and “Surprise” it had all returned, like it was back from holiday, but somehow I managed to let things get way out of control.

 

Just 4 years ago I went from weighing 285lbs to 230lbs, the lowest I have seen since I gave birth to my daughter, which, was the last time the scale has read anything under 200lbs. That was 1997.

 

I had managed to avoid a scale since I regained the weight, depressed, defeated, ashamed, broken.

 

The day I booked my appointment ….

I was at the doctors at my pre-op assessment for gall-bladder removal and I had to step on the scale …

The number… 330lbs … I was stunned …. The nurse asked me if that sounded right?

I just stared at her …

How on earth could I weight 330lbs and not know?!?!?!?

 

In Psychology there is a phenomenon called Change Blindness, where a person looking at a scene will fail to notice a massive change to that scene. Maybe in a sense that’s what I was experiencing. Or maybe it was a choice. Either way it happened.

 

When I returned home I picked up the phone …

 

Knowing that if I want the surgery it will be a self-pay option, I had done a bit of research, had names of Doctors bookmarked on my computer.

 

I talked with the surgery coordinator on the phone, she of course asked me my BMI,

I didn’t know .. “Well how tall are you”? I am 5’5” and “How much do you weigh”?

I answered with “a lot”.

Obviously she needed the number, I stumbled, I couldn’t spit it out. I finally managed to repeat that number 330. As soon as I said it I broke down, crying to a total stranger on the other end. The shame just flooded over me.

She reassured me that everything was going to be okay. She let me know that she has been there, has had the procedure, and everything will be fine for me.

I believed her.

It was the little bit of hope that I needed, that I couldn’t seem to find for myself.

There it was that glimmer of light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel.

 

I would even say at this point I am optimistic. I didn’t think I had it in me to be optimistic again, after failing time and time again, I didn’t think I had the energy to be.

But here it is.

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I have been struggling with weight my whole life. I was a fat kid, a fat teenager, fat twenty-something, now I hope to say that I will not be a fat thirty-something.

Sure I have lost 30, 40, even as much as 60 lbs over those years, but it always crept back up. I don’t know why I seemed shocked, it’s not like I woke up one day and “Surprise” it had all returned, like it was back from holiday, but somehow I managed to let things get way out of control.

Just 4 years ago I went from weighing 285lbs to 230lbs, the lowest I have seen since I gave birth to my daughter, which, was the last time the scale has read anything under 200lbs. That was 1997.

I had managed to avoid a scale since I regained the weight, depressed, defeated, ashamed, broken.

The day I booked my appointment ….

I was at the doctors at my pre-op assessment for gall-bladder removal and I had to step on the scale …

The number… 330lbs … I was stunned …. The nurse asked me if that sounded right?

I just stared at her …

How on earth could I weight 330lbs and not know?!?!?!?

In Psychology there is a phenomenon called Change Blindness, where a person looking at a scene will fail to notice a massive change to that scene. Maybe in a sense that’s what I was experiencing. Or maybe it was a choice. Either way it happened.

When I returned home I picked up the phone …

Knowing that if I want the surgery it will be a self-pay option, I had done a bit of research, had names of Doctors bookmarked on my computer.

I talked with the surgery coordinator on the phone, she of course asked me my BMI,

I didn’t know .. “Well how tall are you”? I am 5’5” and “How much do you weigh”?

I answered with “a lot”.

Obviously she needed the number, I stumbled, I couldn’t spit it out. I finally managed to repeat that number 330. As soon as I said it I broke down, crying to a total stranger on the other end. The shame just flooded over me.

She reassured me that everything was going to be okay. She let me know that she has been there, has had the procedure, and everything will be fine for me.

I believed her.

It was the little bit of hope that I needed, that I couldn’t seem to find for myself.

There it was that glimmer of light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel.

I would even say at this point I am optimistic. I didn’t think I had it in me to be optimistic again, after failing time and time again, I didn’t think I had the energy to be.

But here it is.

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I hear you SheeShee!!! Fat kid - check, Fat teenager - check, Fat twentysommething - check (and it looks like it's ending that way too).... I turn 30 next April and like you am determined to NOT spend my thirtysomething years overweight and with my health spiraling out of control.

GOOD LUCK on your journey - and I think you will find plenty of information and support on this website!

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