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Last night I got the wild idea that I would look up Lab Band Vlogs on YouTube. Big MISTAKE. HUGE! The first 20 or so results were all negative. The first lady I watched to understand why she hated the Lap Band and seemed to make it her personal mission in life to discourage the world from this evil thing called the lap band. As I listened I heard excuse after excuse as to why her band failed. She said she threw up everyday and that nobody told her about PB's. Then she went on to say later that she never got restriction and could eat a plate full of food. Two things. 1)If you over eat you are going to get sick.2) If you're having PB's you have some sort of restriction. She talked about never having restriction again, then told a story of how she almost died (rolling eyes) because she was over filled and couldn't swallow her own saliva. Ok... so we can all conclude she had restriction. She also confesses she's a binge eater. Another red flag. You have to commit to eating smaller portions and having the will power to stop eating when you're full. In my most humble newbie opinion this lady was either not educated on how the Lap Band works, and if that's the case shame on her surgeon, or she just thought it was going to fix all her eating issues. She also kept using air quotations when she said the Lap Band was a "tool". She said she hated when people said that. MY GOD WOMANIT IS A TOOL. NOT A MIRACLE CURE! I was so sad to see all the comments of gratitude for her being so brave to post such an honest video. Uhm... that was not an honest video that was an angry woman who failed to follow band 101 rules. It actually made me angry. I considered the video an EPIC FAIL. She made broad sweeping generalizations saying that the only people that the band works for were people who replaced one vice for another. She used the example of transference of food binging for exercise. They just swapped one for the other. I have to say that I realize that there are risk of complications with the band and that it doesn't work for everyone. But, from what I've read most of the time if people are truly honest they failed the band the band didn't fail them. AND... If you're band isn't working talk to your doctor be persistent there could be something mechanically wrong with your band... but you have to be diligent in taking care of your band. It's high maintenance, but I have to tell you, knowing that every month I have to go in and see my Dr. and be accountable for my weight loss and how I've been treating my band makes me mind my P's and Q's. I've been stuck at 230 for two weeks...but... I've lost another jeans size so my body is losing inches. I love my band. If I was brave enough I would start my own Vlog on YouTube. Just a side note. I always here the soup Nazi's voice in my head from Seinfeld when I want something I shouldn't have. He says, "No cookies or cupcakes for you!". Happy Hump Day, Ya'll!

Hello there, Ugh, it's SNOWING AGAIN here in Ontario Canada. Oh well, I can't fix that. Today is my one week surgiversary and I'm pleased to say that I've lost 5 more pounds this past week. I'm very pleased with that. The day before yesterday I started taking lessTylenol for pain - and being lazy I hadn't gotten any more after I ran out. Yesterday I walked the longest yet - too long in fact for being 6 days out. Over an hour and almost four miles. I staggered home and was exhausted by bed time yesterday. I woke up around 2am in a lot of pain, and at last the pharmacy has just opened and I've returned from buying the tylenol and taking my double dose. During the night I tried taking 2 tylenol pills. That was pretty awful, and while they didn't come up, I'm not certain they ever went down. I'm really sore today. I'll stay with the children tylenol double dose for as long as needed and today I'll take it easier, though I can still use the treadmill downstairs for a short stint. I like the walking, and was so pleased I found out how far I could go, although next time outside walking, I doubt I'll try for an hour or more. I have a tendency to overdoing it, to pushing myself, and it's one way that I'm not nice to myself. All things in good time Nancy is what I think. Tomorrow I get to move to more 'foods'. I cannot wait as I'm truly sick of shakes. Thanks to all of you for your support! Nancy

I'll be 8 weeks post-op tomorrow, and here's what I've learned about my sleeve thus far. Note to self: Alas, my eyes are still (literally) bigger than my stomach! I should take what I think I can eat, and cut it IN HALF I've learned that my stomach cannot handle a lot of protein when it comes from any meat. For example, I can barely eat 2-3 oz of pork, chicken or steak (even with a sauce so it's not dry). I can, however, seem to be able to eat ground beef / turkey & pork. Hummm?!?! Since I'm not meeting my daily protein requirement, I think I'm going to change my focus to more dense protein (yogurts, cottage cheese, egg whites, beans, lentils, quinoa, flounder, ricotta cheese, and, of course protein drinks / bars, etc...). Protein isn't something you should take lightly. It's important to the overall success of our health. See my note below. I've noticed it helps me get more fluids in when I drink a 16.9 oz bottle of Propel first thing in the morning. I start drinking it on my commute to work & finish it off within 2 hours. Yes, it takes me that long. I still struggle getting in all my fluids for the day, so drinking a bottle of Propel flavored water in the morning helps me move along. I've never been one to eat many veggies, but I discovered that I really enjoy eating spinach. I found a spinach souffle in the freezer section that I split in 1/2 as a serving. I then cook an egg with it & have it for breakfast or lunch. Note to newbies: Please make sure you meet those protein & fluid requirements. If you don't, you're taking a chance of getting light-headed, and feeling faint from time to time. Yes, this happens to me more often than not. That's why I blog & talk about it; so I can keep track of what I need to do, and to help others. Weight loss is GREAT, but it's nothing if you can't stay healthy.

http://www.stuff.co....r-says-shes-fat Dear Mum, I was seven when I discovered that you were fat, ugly and horrible. Up until that point I had believed that you were beautiful - in every sense of the word. I remember flicking through old photo albums and staring at pictures of you standing on the deck of a boat. Your white strapless bathing suit looked so glamorous, just like a movie star. Whenever I had the chance I'd pull out that wondrous white bathing suit hidden in your bottom drawer and imagine a time when I'd be big enough to wear it; when I'd be like you. But all of that changed when, one night, we were dressed up for a party and you said to me, ''Look at you, so thin, beautiful and lovely. And look at me, fat, ugly and horrible.'' At first I didn't understand what you meant. ''You're not fat,'' I said earnestly and innocently, and you replied, ''Yes I am, darling. I've always been fat; even as a child.'' In the days that followed I had some painful revelations that have shaped my whole life. I learned that: 1. You must be fat because mothers don't lie. 2. Fat is ugly and horrible. 3. When I grow up I'll look like you and therefore I will be fat, ugly and horrible too. Years later, I looked back on this conversation and the hundreds that followed and cursed you for feeling so unattractive, insecure and unworthy. Because, as my first and most influential role model, you taught me to believe the same thing about myself. With every grimace at your reflection in the mirror, every new wonder diet that was going to change your life, and every guilty spoon of ''Oh-I-really-shouldn't'', I learned that women must be thin to be valid and worthy. Girls must go without because their greatest contribution to the world is their physical beauty. Just like you, I have spent my whole life feeling fat. When did fat become a feeling anyway? And because I believed I was fat, I knew I was no good. But now that I am older, and a mother myself, I know that blaming you for my body hatred is unhelpful and unfair. I now understand that you too are a product of a long and rich lineage of women who were taught to loathe themselves. Look at the example Nanna set for you. Despite being what could only be described as famine-victim chic, she dieted every day of her life until the day she died at 79 years of age. She used to put on make-up to walk to the letterbox for fear that somebody might see her unpainted face. I remember her ''compassionate'' response when you announced that Dad had left you for another woman. Her first comment was, ''I don't understand why he'd leave you. You look after yourself, you wear lipstick. You're overweight - but not that much.'' Before Dad left, he provided no balm for your body-image torment either. ''Jesus, Jan,'' I overheard him say to you. ''It's not that hard. Energy in versus energy out. If you want to lose weight you just have to eat less.'' That night at dinner I watched you implement Dad's ''Energy In, Energy Out: Jesus, Jan, Just Eat Less'' weight-loss cure. You served up chow mein for dinner. (Remember how in 1980s Australian suburbia, a combination of mince, cabbage, and soy sauce was considered the height of exotic gourmet?) Everyone else's food was on a dinner plate except yours. You served your chow mein on a tiny bread-and-butter plate. As you sat in front of that pathetic scoop of mince, silent tears streamed down your face. I said nothing. Not even when your shoulders started heaving from your distress. We all ate our dinner in silence. Nobody comforted you. Nobody told you to stop being ridiculous and get a proper plate. Nobody told you that you were already loved and already good enough. Your achievements and your worth - as a teacher of children with special needs and a devoted mother of three of your own - paled into insignificance when compared with the centimetres you couldn't lose from your waist. It broke my heart to witness your despair and I'm sorry that I didn't rush to your defence. I'd already learned that it was your fault that you were fat. I'd even heard Dad describe losing weight as a ''simple'' process - yet one that you still couldn't come to grips with. The lesson: you didn't deserve any food and you certainly didn't deserve any sympathy. But I was wrong, Mum. Now I understand what it's like to grow up in a society that tells women that their beauty matters most, and at the same time defines a standard of beauty that is perpetually out of our reach. I also know the pain of internalising these messages. We have become our own jailors and we inflict our own punishments for failing to measure up. No one is crueler to us than we are to ourselves. But this madness has to stop, Mum. It stops with you, it stops with me and it stops now. We deserve better - better than to have our days brought to ruin by bad body thoughts, wishing we were otherwise. And it's not just about you and me any more. It's also about Violet. Your granddaughter is only 3 and I do not want body hatred to take root inside her and strangle her happiness, her confidence and her potential. I don't want Violet to believe that her beauty is her most important asset; that it will define her worth in the world. When Violet looks to us to learn how to be a woman, we need to be the best role models we can. We need to show her with our words and our actions that women are good enough just the way they are. And for her to believe us, we need to believe it ourselves. The older we get, the more loved ones we lose to accidents and illness. Their passing is always tragic and far too soon. I sometimes think about what these friends - and the people who love them - wouldn't give for more time in a body that was healthy. A body that would allow them to live just a little longer. The size of that body's thighs or the lines on its face wouldn't matter. It would be alive and therefore it would be perfect. Your body is perfect too. It allows you to disarm a room with your smile and infect everyone with your laugh. It gives you arms to wrap around Violet and squeeze her until she giggles. Every moment we spend worrying about our physical ''flaws'' is a moment wasted, a precious slice of life that we will never get back. Let us honour and respect our bodies for what they do instead of despising them for how they appear. Focus on living healthy and active lives, let our weight fall where it may, and consign our body hatred in the past where it belongs. When I looked at that photo of you in the white bathing suit all those years ago, my innocent young eyes saw the truth. I saw unconditional love, beauty and wisdom. I saw my Mum. Love, Kasey xx This is an excerpt from Dear Mum, a collection of letters from Australian sporting stars, musicians, models, cooks and authors revealing what they would like to say to their mothers before it's too late, or would have said if only they'd had the chance. All royalties go to the National Breast Cancer Foundation. Published by Random House and available now.

Thank you so much for posting this. It made me cry, which is a good thing. Living in the states, I hadn't heard of this book or of this letter. Just like the author, I have a 3 year old daughter. I am the fat daughter of a fat mother, so I also learned from an early age that fat is bad and I hated myself because of it. I am going to share this link with my own family and with all my friends who are mothers of daughters so they can also see this powerful message and maybe they will think a bit more about how their own body image may be hurting their girls.