The Skinny on My Decision
Well, here goes nothing. Earlier this week I paid a visit to a bariatric surgeon and have decided to start preparations to undergo Lap-band surgery. I’m about to embark on a life changing journey and I’m here to give you the skinny on getting skinny. Not that “skinny” is really what it’s all about; it’s far too superficial of a word to encompass everything that I’m trying to achieve by undergoing weight-loss surgery. In fact, I don’t even really expect to get skinny at all. Mostly I’m shooting for a healthy, comfortable weight—basically, not fat.
Of course, I’m not going to deny the superficial aspects of my decision. I’m almost 27 years old and I tip the scales at over 300 lbs. I have no clue what it’s like to feel beautiful, sexy…skinny. I can look in a mirror and like what I see when I’m having a good hair day and my makeup is freshly applied, but that’s only above the neck—actually that’s only above the extra chins. I never leave the house feeling like I’m going to turn heads—at least not for a good reason. I remember being out at a bar a few months ago and some guy offered to buy me a drink. I was confused and politely declined. It was only after a few minutes that I realized that he might be hitting on me. Sure, it’s nice to have other people find me attractive, but what difference does it really make if I don’t find me attractive? If I’m not happy with who I am how will I ever be happy? But I digress from the philosophical, self-help, mumbo-jumbo.
The point is, my motivations go beyond what I look like. My weight problem affects every aspect of my life, in ways most people don’t even think about. Take clothing for example—sure, I can find regular clothes in plus-sized clothing stores, but what about more specific clothing needs? I love to ski but I can’t find appropriate ski clothing in my size. I have to scour racks at the uniform store to find lab coats and scrubs big enough for me to wear to work. I can’t even wear most boots because they won’t zipper up over my calves. There are other things too. Like the last time I flew I needed a seat belt extension. Or the last time I went to an amusement park and I had to sit in a special seat on the roller coaster for people with “large chest dimensions.” There are more common examples like sitting in seats with arms that dig into my sides or trying to maneuver my way through a crowded room and having trouble finding openings big enough for me to squeeze through.
And of course there’s my health which—knock on wood—has actually been quite good so far. I have irregular periods and sometimes I have some lower back pain but otherwise I'm pretty healthy. But I don’t feel like waiting for diabetes or hypertension or heart disease to hit before deciding something needs to be done. Yes people, an ounce of prevention really is better than a pound of cure.
So basically, if I lose the weight and become a knock-out I’ll be ecstatic. But if I don’t become a heart breaker, at least I’ll know that my heart is still functioning properly. If I don’t suddenly have guys falling at my feet, at least I won’t have lost either of said feet to diabetes. And if my life doesn’t turn out like some of the fantasies in my head, at least I’ll still have a life—and it’ll be one I can live to the fullest.
3 Comments
Recommended Comments
Create an account or sign in to comment
You need to be a member in order to leave a comment
Create an account
Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!
Register a new accountSign in
Already have an account? Sign in here.
Sign In Now