kyrrin1

Hi, to anyone who's listening. I'm 45 year old New Yorker, newly separated, a Mom of 2, and about to embark on a terrifying adventure...lap band surgery.
 
I have been chubby all my life. Never the biggest girl in the room, but certainly the girl next in line after her. Fortunately I have always had enough personality to pull it off without suffering a lot of the discrimination I have seem others suffer. Despite my weight I've become a successful doctor and author and have appeared on many many TV shows talking about what I love most, my field of Psychiatry. There is not a time I see myself on TV that I don't wonder, "wasn't there some skinny little Kelly Rippa shaped Shrink available?" Obviously they like what I have to say enough to overlook the limitations on camera angles a girl my size demands. I am flattered. And when Mehmet calls you don't say no.
 
I didn't always mind being big. I come from a family of overweight people who love themselves and carry out fruitful productive happy lives. My parents are both very overweight but smooch each other like newlyweds. I never believed being fat meant you didn't deserve to be loved, or that any doors would close because of your weight, unless of course you wanted to be a ballet dancer or a model, and I did not.
 
Then a few years ago I hurt my back lifting my then 3 year old daughter who had had a classic 3 year old middle of the crosswalk throw down in which you either sweep her up or let her be run over by a bus. I chose the former. Really I had no choice. That moment was the beginning of the end. My daughter lived but my painfree life ended. A herniated disc. No amount of PT could make it get better. Eventually I needed surgery. Surgery didn't help. Now I need another surgery. There is not a day when my actions are not severely limited by pain. But don't worry, I'm not here to be a drag and write about depressing stuff. I want solutions. And I'm pretty sure that no matter what they can or can't do to my back, it would certainly help if I lost 50 lbs.
 
 
Then there's the sad status of my relationship. When I look back on my 10 year relationship I realize that in many ways I allowed a bad situation to brew. When my spouse was working all the time and always late, missing family events and blowing off birthdays this voice inside me was furious. But somehow I rationalized that if I was the trophy wife I was supposed to be I would have had more power to make demands. Instead everything I said seemed to fall on deaf ears. With no cuddle or kindness to look forward to at the end of a hard day I could at least count on the sensual delights of a delicious dinner. In many ways the weight was my friend: When the affection stopped altogether the only thing that kept me faithful was my weight.
 
Over the years I have tolerated a lot of treatment that I believe I would not have stood for had I not had a weight problem. Even things like my spouses smoking, which I hated, I felt I couldn't put my foot down about, because here I was with this uncontrollable behavior as well. There were a lot of things I didn't demand for fear my spouse would demand I lose weight, and I knew I couldn't.
 
I'm tired of feeling like I can't have a voice. I'm tired of not being able to participate fully in my daughters life. I'm tired of feeling like the time in life to travel and hike and camp and kayak is past. I'm tired of wearing clothes that do not reflect who I am because someone thinks fat people like to wear rayon smocks with no style. I'm tired of having to lie down to rest my aching back when my head is full of dreams and plans and my heart is itching to participate. I'm tired of getting ready for a date wondering wondering what abominable personality trait, mole, tail, wart cult whathaveyou etc I will have to endure in exchange for their willingness to deal with my weight.
 
So a few months ago I walked alone into a NYU lap band info session and I learned something. I thought the band was just basically a way of training you to eat less because you barf if you don't. There I learned that the band actually acts to trigger fullness nerves so that you feel satisfied eating less. That sounded awesome.
 
Because as a physician I know a lot about Nutrition and Healthy eating. I am expert at making healthful meal plans for my fussy 7 year old who is underweight...but who I'm determined to not have develop bad eating habits. I've been going to Weight Watchers since the Ice Age but I can't eat that little!!! I know what a normal portion looks like, but damned if I feel satisfied after eating that little. Lap Banded folks say that the band really changes their relationship to food, that they are able to eat just a half a cup a few times a day and feel satisfied. This is incomprehensible to me. But man, it sounds awesome.
 
So this fall I'm getting banded. My BMI is too low to get my insurance to pay for it. My choice is gain 17 lbs, qualify, then spend 6 months of supervised weight loss...or spend the whole $20K I've been able to save since my divorce and starting over...and Ive decided to just do this one big expensive indulgent crazy ass thing for myself. I'm going for it. I'm not going to Mexico. I'm going to NYU, the best place I know of in the neighborhood where I live because from now on I want no compromises on my happiness. I'm tired of making the budget work by taking away from what I need. I need my life back. I do this, and by next summer imagine who I can be?!
 
My ex seems excited by the prospect of the skinny me, but doesnt know that I have plans for a personality makeover for that skinny girl. Second Chance Sally is going to be much more demanding, much less charming, much less acquiescent than the girl I used to be. Fat me was a people pleaser, a giver, the one who didn't complain. The old me really cared what people thought, really wanted people to like her. Second Chance Sally is going to speak her mind, stand her ground, demand her due and do it all wearing Desigual. Second Chance Sally is getting skinny before her kid has the chance to notice she's fat and be ashamed of her.
 
SCS, as I like to call the new me, is so not psyched about sliming and PBing and yet more surgeries, but I'm cleaning out my storage space and for once I am not saving all those sizes I no longer fit into. Even though this might be the first chance I've had to get back into those sizes. NOPE. If in fact I do get down to those new sizes I am going SHOPPING for some new things. A new start.
 
Will you join me for the ride?