whippledaddy

Find out if they were fresh or frozen. If they were frozen you're a very lucky person. They may have been harvested in their poisonous month. Sheeeesh. go through major surgery to beat the enemy, food, and find that food is still the enemy.

Janet Quinn in Dr. Cudjoe's office is great with insurance. She can help you get it through. She's tough as nails, smart as a whip, and never gives up. She's only there every other week (she commutes from like Minnesota or somewhere), but she's a great help. You could meet her at the seminar. There I met her, Dr. Cudjoe, Dr. Smith, and the office staff. It's a very informative meeting, well worth the trip for you. Good luck, and when you get your packet, be sure to fill out everything, it speeds stuff up. Also I set up my own psych eval and other tests. You may want to do that so you won't have to be coming to alma once a week until you're banded.

Penny you look great and happy birthday!

I saw the surgeon today. I scheduled my psych evaluation already. I got a date for my endoscopy. I got a date for my nutrition class. I got a date for my pulmonary test. I got a date for my stress test. And................................. I got my surgery date: November 16! Let the rollercoaster begin.

I haven't had the band yet, but maybe I can help this little bit. You can go to weather.com and tell it your location, and get the weather for any place. It's free, and it's pretty accurate in my area. Good luck, and keep us posted.

I don't know what possessed me to take a picture then! Even more why post it? I was all night with little sleep (Up every two hours for two days and nights to check on DW"s head injury) I was unshaven and coming down with a cold, or flu, or something. Still got the stuff, sniffle. Thanks for all the kind words about the pic, that dog one kept creeping me out. I like it, but I don't. I come home from work each day, cook supper, fold the clothes in the dryer, put the ones from the washer in the dryer, start another load, get Patty to sleep (not so hard since they raised the patch again) and rush to the computer to read this forum. In these days of waiting while clocks tick as slowly as oaks grow, reading the postings here is my rock, my connection to a sanity that involves me, and this journey I have just begun. Can't really find anyone to talk to. The wife tries, but the drugs keep her from listening her best. Only here do I find people who have walked the same paths as I. We share so much, and will all share even more. Each of us has felt the sting of humiliation as a result of our disease. Each of us knows what it is to be angry with oneself because "EEEEEAAAAAHHHHH! I ate it all!!!!" Why? Why?Why? Plus we all have our normal demons to fight. Families, children, jobs, spouses, ex-spouses. You all save me. You all teach me about courage under fire. You show me how to care about others when you need to put yourself first. Your posts are inspiration to me. Your altruism elevates me to a higher place. When I'm down, really down, coming here, and reading about you all, how you wait for the band, how you deal with it once you have it, and most of all how you are all so positive and supporting of each other, welcoming strangers with open arms: well............it's the best cure for a downer day I can imagine. I can't thank you enough.

Howdy Nancy! I'm from Michigan, but I'm stuck up in the Middle of the Mitten. A ways away from you. There are other Michiganians here, one from Menominee! Now that's way up there! Good luck, and keep on these boards. Maybe we could get a Michigan Bandster get together going. Maybe just a worldwide bandster get together as there are folks here from all over the world. Looking forward to hearing from you as you progress. Me? I'm not banded yet. Waaahhhhh!

Decided to take it when I was at my worst, after all, the before pictures should be DRAMATIC. I'm unshaven, and I've been up every two hours all night to check on my bride 'cause she fell and bumped her head. There, now I've made enough excuses.

I really envy you folks who had the courage to just get 'er done. I needed to lurk here on this forum for a while to just make the decision to get it done! This is a great group of people. They are caring enough to give each other the support we all need, and they are sane enough to help each other through the tough times, but they aren't so sane that they can't have a great time. I've just had more fun here. Good luck with your journey.

Good Luck Kimberly! Stay calm, and keep your eyes on the prize.

Keep us posted. These fine ladies say it's different for guys, so I can learn a lot from your experiences. Like what to expect, for instance. Sounds like it's not too bad, so far. Did'ja get the jitters before the surgery? I know you said something to that effect in another post. Have you had surgery before? The last time I was on an OR table I was like twelve. Barely remember it. Good luck! Sounds like you're losing already.

At the risk of sounding smug, I'd like to say that if hubby still needs some convincing, or some insight, I'd be more than happy to devote some time to writing about how it feels to be fat. Men have a hard time getting anything that has to do with feelings or emotions. Our brains are not as well equipped as women's for handling such things. I'm not making that up, it's true. Well, if I can help let me know. I'm being banded on 11-16-04 with a BMI somewhere near the national debt.

Forty Three years ago, a nine year old boy was put in a prison of his own making. It was that year that I started getting fat. My prison bars were soft, and warm, and they grew in strength every year. I tried to break out when I was 13. I tried to tunnel through my prison walls of fat with a 1000 calorie diet. But the security was too good, and the walls came back, thicker and stronger than ever. I tried to escape numerous times since then. But to no avail. The closer I got to the outside world the farther I dropped back into the prison when I failed. It's lonely in here. There are places I cannot go. The chairs don't fit. There are things I cannot do. Imagine taking a prison with you everywhere! I have to drag my prison around. Shopping, movies, up and down stairs. I can see the beautiful world outside, I can smell the roses on the evening breeze. From my extra large La-Z-Boy. I can hear the laughter of the skinny and the free. When you look at me don't see the prison, see the prisoner within. Stare into my eyes, you might just catch a glimpse. Inside, I'm thin, and young, and studly. No, nevermind. I see myself reflected in the windows at the bank. Confronted with my image, even I forget the little prisoner within. Now, today, I got a date to go before the Parole Board. They'll put a band on my stomach, it'll ease me out of prison. If I do right I'll be free. If I do right I'll stay free. I want to do right. I want to be free. Free of the stares, and the stairs. Free of the sideways glance in public. Free of the need to see if I'm really the fattest person in the room. November 16, 2004. You seem so far away. Until then I'll dream of what I'll do as I earn my new freedom. I built this prison one bar at a time, and that's how the walls will tumble. Until then, I'll look out the bars, and wait, and wonder, and hope.

They make Archie Bunker look like Billy Graham. Thanks! I don't think I've been anyone's favorite anything before.

The best part will be when I don't take part in the strange antics of that dysfunctional crew. Hey, maybe I can say that I'm kind of morose about not being able to eat several pounds of turkey and they'll let me have a quiet day at home? Great Idea. Ireland? There are three places I want to visit before I die. New Zealand, Oregon, and Ireland. And, I hear Ireland loves writers and poets and such. Hmmmmm. Even to the point that those who make their living artistically get to forego taxes. Is that true? If so, maybe I'll be buying a ticket.

I took a little poetic license with the Prison post, but you are so right. I cannot see the future and I do not know how all this will turn out, but I have a feeling that, somewhere down the corridor of time, I will come to a place where I realize that my life as a fat man stood me in good stead. There have been other things in my life that I thought really sucked at the time, and it turned out that I would have missed out on something positive had it not been for my "misfortune". I already know that these layers of fat have played an enormous (pun intended) part in who and what I am today. I feel I am more compassionate because of the pain I have felt from others. I am slower to criticize or ridicule others. I feel more able to accept people, and even life itself, at face value, because I would like to be accepted that way myself. I work with prisoners and some of them talk about how the experience can change them for the better, make them look at their own lives. One said "Webster, I thought my crime only had one victim until I came here. I saw the look on my wife's face, and the shame and horror in my children's eyes, and I realized I victimized so many people, including my own family." But now that these soft warm chains, forged by many a second helping, have made me a better person, it's time to sever them and walk free to be a better person for a longer time.

Wow, that's impressive work. You will do fine, I know it. It must be great for you not to have a hum drum job. You're very fortunate in that regard. Hey, you know what? I'm addicted to this place too. It's my haven from the crappier parts of my life.

I've got too many of these stories, and I'm afraid you'll all think I'm well....................................... a couple of tacos short of a combo plate. But, here goes: When I finally moved out of my parents house I found a cute little place to rent on the other side of our small town. I filled it with what meager furniture I had and it was enough. I was single, I was young and dumb. It was wonderful. One thing I remember about moving in was a built in dresser in the walk in closet. When I opened the top drawer I found a pair of gold post earrings. I thought nothing of it and threw them away. I then filled it with my underwear. I was smaller back then and it took more than one pair to fill a drawer. Ah me. Well, back to the story: The next morning when I went to get my underwear out there were those earrings on top of my clothes! I threw them away again, thinking that perhaps I had meant to toss them last night, but had forgotten and just lay them in the drawer. The next day, yes, you guessed it, they were back. I held them up and said "This is my place now, I dont' want you to store your stuff here." Then I made a big show of taking the earrings and carrying them to the kitchen to throw away. I never found the earrings again, but, several days later I found a large and used (ugh) pair of ladies undies (the big cotton granny kind) wedged in my recliner. A couple days after that I found a pair of tube socks. Very used. I spoke to the air again, feeling more than just a little foolish, and told the ghost that they were dead, and they had to go to God now. I'd take care of their house and all their stuff but they couldn't stay here anymore. I never found any more items. But, every night I would go to bed and close and latch my bedroom door. In the morning it would be open. Hmmmmmm. Later my landlady confessed that previous renters had left because the house was haunted by Mrs. Heck, who had lived there into her old age and passed away in that very bedroom I slept in.

The only thing that brings an insurance company to tears is making out a check. LOL

Fifty pounds! Way to go! It's 'cause of the motorsickle, ain't it?

Thanks for all the kind words and support guys. I must admit, I'm kind of geeked, and I like to think of myself as the cool type who doesn't get his feathers ruffled so easy. I would be posting more, but we're in a strange phase with my wife. She's taken to falling. Seven times yesterday. I gotta put the squeeze on the docs or they'll just keep doing the same thing over and over and expect different results. I'm the one who told them to test for RSD. Then I had to teach them what it was. Sheeeesh. I think it's the maximum dose of Neurontin she's been on for four years that's causing it. They don't understand, she's had the RNY and her absorption is different. Also she's had constipation since the surgery, and this stuff stays in her system for a long time. I'll get through to them. I have before. Well anyway, thanks for all the kind words. Now, she's sleeping, and not walking, I think I'll have a look around on the computer. 'night.

Nancy, you couldn't come to a better place. I've been hanging out here since I made this decision, and it's great. You'll meet so many wonderful people, with such touching stories to tell. You'll meet the courageous and the hilarious. You'll laugh here. You'll cry here. You'll kiss your cares goodbye here. If you're like me you'll come here often in the next few weeks, especially in those sleepless nights when you both fear and embrace the future. Hope to see ya around in here, fellow Michigander (Michiganian?) I never know which. Good luck.

I have no direct family of my own. Parents dead, two half brothers, and one half sister, but we were never close as we never grew up together. So................................lucky me, I get to have ALL the flippin' holidays with the (gasp) In Laws! DeLarla: My wife's family is like yours. I shudder to call them dysfunctional because that implies that once upon a time there was function. So it's gonna be kind'a nice to be out of the loop on Thanksgiving. I'll still be drinkin' my dinner (I think) and so won't have to join the feeding frenzy punctuated by skirmishes and family fights. I'll also be spared the inevitable beer drinkin' contest, and the tobacco spittin' contest the men are expected to partake in. I will, unfortunately, still have to listen to the political repartee. The Patriarch of the Family will spout his usual "We should'a nuked Iraq, and every other country with a towel head in it, and brought all their sand over here and give every American free kittly litter for life!" Ah, you think I'm exagerating. Instead I'll be counting my blessings. A beautiful, if chronically ill, wife, a good job with great bennies, a technology that finally gives me the chance to be healthier and happier, and a group of souls on the internet who are a delight to be with. Lap Banders: I enjoy your company. Even when my life is too hectic to post I come here just to be. this place is like a Water tower of caring, and support, and inspiration, and each computer, flung across our globe, is like a faucet. And all you have to do is log on to drink the cool sweet water of LapBandTalk. G'night.

Maybe I say it as shouldn't, since I am not yet banded, but I know all the reasons I picked the band. And one of them was that the weight would come off in a more manageable way. And one pound less on the band is one pound that doesn't have to come back. Thirty pounds are gone! They will stay gone forever. Thirty little gremlins that cannot haunt your dreams any longer. Thirty reasons you can lose thirty more. "Most people lose the majority of their weight in the first year" Let's look at that closely. The truth is: Most people don't get banded. There is no window of opportunity like the RNY. Did you need a window of opportunity to gain the weight? I know I didn't. I put it on one bite at a time. And that's how it will come off. Now is the time to harness that inner strength and beauty that I can see you have from your posts. Determine that you aren't most people. Determine that the generalities spouted to you by the thin won't apply to you. Thirty pounds in nine months? That's just short of a pound a week. What's so bad about that? If you were gaining a pound a week everyone would be alarmed, so why not be elated that you are losing that much? From what you say you're doing the right things. It'll come off. But you cannot hold yourself to any one else's yardstick. Every person is different. You'll lose the weight. You'll do it. You'll do it because you have the strength. You'll do it because you have all these wonderful people here to come to. You'll do it because you sat out to do it, and if it comes off in pounds, ounces, or tons, it'll come off because you've made that decision. You can do it. I know this. And, if you slow your breathing, turn down the lights, turn off the TV, radio, and other noisemakers, and listen to that little voice inside you...................you will know it too.

I guess I shouldn't say I'm a skeptic. I've posted several stories here that show I've experienced something, though I don't know what. But I can't believe all the new age stuff, any more than I can believe that there isn't anything out there, greater than we are. Try as I might, I can't believe there is no God. And I can't say that I'm not a Christian. But I know plenty of people who claim to be Christian, who do not seem to believe in anything. I do. I believe in magic. I believe in miracles. I look around me and I know that dreams come true. Your clothes, your shoes, the car you drive, this computer, the desk you sit at, the toothpaste you used this morning. All were once just dreams. They rattled around in the heads of their creators and they were made into reality. It's a world of miracles if you look at it that way. My parents are deceased. Yet I feel them looking out for me, here and there. I have lost friends. And I know they are friends still. Where ever they are. We have all found each other, here in this nowhere land of cyber space. Is that not miraculous? You don't have to believe in God, or Angels, as long as they believe in you. And to DeLarla, and Iluvharleys, and all you others who love the two wheeled life: Never ride faster than your guardian angel can fly!