Globetrotter

An amazing thing is happening. For the first time in my life, I can honestly say, "I don't give a s h i t what other people think." Perhaps it's because I'm another year older today, and on birthdays one is wont to take stock. Perhaps it's because I am feeling the empowerment than accompanies true change. Perhaps it's because I'm finally realizing I have people in my life who love me unconditionally, or that I now know I am deserving of that love. Perhaps it is all of these. What I do know is I've said that phrase many times before, at times very convincingly, but I never meant it. I wanted to mean it, others even believed that I meant it because I come across as irreverent and impossible to embarrass, but there was always a motivational undercurrent of wanting to be liked.
 
The following is a list of notions I've recently come to accept as valid. Some are mere reminders to myself, some are rants, some are missives directed at specific people on this site. All are liberating:
 
I am not required to tell anyone about my decision to have weight loss surgery. Should I choose to do so, I have no obligation to explain or defend my decision.
 
I am justified in flipping off another driver when the egotistical delusions acquired from watching "The Fast and the Furious" momentarily override his cognizance of the fact that he is operating a deadly weapon.
 
I may express my offense when someone implies I should be ashamed of the way I look, or used to look.
 
I am permitted to be impolite, even rude, to a man whose words or actions are causing me to feel uncomfortable or unsafe. I am allowed to inflict physical harm if his clear intention is to harm me.
 
I am free to voice my belief that it is not all right for people posting in the general forum to attribute their weight loss to a higher power. If I attributed mine to Obama or the recent supreme court ruling on gay marriage, and put that post in a general discussion forum, I would be criticized. And rightfully so.
 
I have a right to discuss the increase in my libido on an internet forum, as well as the conundrum I'm faced with as a single teacher in a small town, without being accused of advertising for sex. And should someone attempt to shame me out of talking about sex, I have a right to stand firm in my refusal to be shamed.
 
I am allowed to call people out for misusing this and other support sites; for not following the rules, which have been clearly laid out; and I am allowed to do so without being subjected to ridicule and insult.
 
I am not required to dumb myself down because others are intimidated by my intelligence. I also am allowed to state that others are intimidated by my intelligence without apologizing or prefacing such a remark with a qualifier or self-deprecating damper such as "This is probably going to sound egotistical, but...." when I have a higher than average IQ. It is also true that I am endlessly disheartened by the dissolution of the English language, have won awards for performance and writing, and am, on the whole, infinitely more impressed with the emotional intelligence of animals over that of people. None of these statements require compensation.
 
I do not have to remain passive when others make remarks that are sexist, racist, ageist, homophobic, heterosexist, xenophobic, misogynistic, violently aggressive, indicative of body fascism, or convey intolerance of mental illness, mental retardation, or other disability.
 
I deserve to be treated with dignity.
 
And if you don't agree with me, I really don't care. Honestly. And it feels so f u c k i n g good to say that.

My last meal was bruschetta, little toasted pieces of baguette, rubbed with garlic, laden with chopped tomatoes and basil. I thought maybe I would never be able to eat them again, I mourned a little that it had come to this, I was excited to have hope again, I was already bookmarking favorites in online shopping, filling the imaginary shopping cart with pretty items in never before dreamt of sizes.
 
Two years ago today I woke very early, 6 perhaps, amazing how some things get forgotten ... I had drunk the horrific milk of magnesia the night before and had my final water at the same time and now was nervous and thirsty, the adrenaline making both sensations all the more acute. My Mother and I were at a hotel around the corner from the hospital and we drove there, or did we take the shuttle? I was in my pyjamas, having just showered with the special cleanser they gave me. I was private pay from one of the best surgical teams for VSG in the world, Laparascopic Associates of San Francisco, so I got a pretty 5 star treatment, private changing room, garment bag for my things, robes etc. with the LASF logo stitched on. I must have been nervous but my adrenaline kept me from really feeling much. My Mom and I waited in a private room, I laid on a bed in my gowns. One last trip to the bathroom and it was off to the OR to meet the kindest anesthesiologist ever, I think she had all sorts of dogs printed on her surgical cap, that's all I remember ...
Next thing, I was waking up in my room with a view of the City, in and out of consciousness ... there were popsicles ... there was walking ... there was feeling like I was going to barf but nothing happening ... I didn't pee when they wanted me to and a few other things so I spent an extra day in the hospital ...
 
The following few days are mostly a blur, 2 years later my Mother tells me the timeline of events during those days and it's all news to me. I spent 3 weeks recovering in the country, in a little cottage up the coast a few hours from SF. That first night I stayed on the couch in a sitting position and the following 3 nights I slept in bed but only on my side as sleeping on my back gave me terrible sensations. My body was a foreign landscape that first week and for the first month I felt as close to vampiric as one can, I had no human bodily functions - no need to pee or poop, no interest in human food, in fact a revulsion of nearly every food or beverage.
 
Before I walked into the OR they weighed me one last time, 294. 2 weeks later I came back for a check up and they weighed me, 274. 20 pounds! Those first 20 pounds were more stunning than the following 100. After all the research, all the thinking, all the talking to sleevers, it still had never genuinely sunk in that this was real and that it really does work. I sat in my Dr's office, stunned!
 
There are plenty of people here on VST who tell delightful tales of reaching and exceeding their goals within 6 months, how they are now under goal, wear a size 0, and chirp chirp chirp, tweet tweet tweet. Well, good for them, wish I was one. That has never been my VSG story however. It was a full year before I joined the century club and 2 years out I am still shy of surgeon's goal by approx. 25 lbs and personal by approx. 50.
 
Two years out I sometimes still reflexively tense up when I sit in a chair with arms, genuinely expecting to not be able to fit into it. I still stiffen up when in crowds, thinking people are staring and staring for negative reasons. I still FEEL fat often, I still feel frustrated that after so much time and effort I still probably look like a pudgy lazy bones to the average lay person, but I would rather be at this stage of the game rather than having never begun and still at square one!
 
I've learned that losing weight and becoming physically active and strong does solve a lot of problems and does bring a lot of simple joy but that losing weight or becoming a specific size doesn't automatically confer happiness and that fat or thin life can just suck sometimes. Weight loss is NOT a fairy tale prince come to swoop me onto a horse and ride me off into a happily ever after sunset, a fact that honestly, I am still trying to come to terms with.
 
One final thought, I think I might not have made the decision or had the success I have had or a lot of positive things if it weren't for this forum and the support I've found here. Fellow sleevers from around the world have supported me, advised me, commiserated with me and have just been indispensable on this journey. I hope I have been able to give some of that back. Here's to the continued adventures, the continued seeking of and eventual attainment of goals, for me and for us all,
 
-Globetrotter

My last meal was bruschetta, little toasted pieces of baguette, rubbed with garlic, laden with chopped tomatoes and basil. I thought maybe I would never be able to eat them again, I mourned a little that it had come to this, I was excited to have hope again, I was already bookmarking favorites in online shopping, filling the imaginary shopping cart with pretty items in never before dreamt of sizes.
 
Two years ago today I woke very early, 6 perhaps, amazing how some things get forgotten ... I had drunk the horrific milk of magnesia the night before and had my final water at the same time and now was nervous and thirsty, the adrenaline making both sensations all the more acute. My Mother and I were at a hotel around the corner from the hospital and we drove there, or did we take the shuttle? I was in my pyjamas, having just showered with the special cleanser they gave me. I was private pay from one of the best surgical teams for VSG in the world, Laparascopic Associates of San Francisco, so I got a pretty 5 star treatment, private changing room, garment bag for my things, robes etc. with the LASF logo stitched on. I must have been nervous but my adrenaline kept me from really feeling much. My Mom and I waited in a private room, I laid on a bed in my gowns. One last trip to the bathroom and it was off to the OR to meet the kindest anesthesiologist ever, I think she had all sorts of dogs printed on her surgical cap, that's all I remember ...
Next thing, I was waking up in my room with a view of the City, in and out of consciousness ... there were popsicles ... there was walking ... there was feeling like I was going to barf but nothing happening ... I didn't pee when they wanted me to and a few other things so I spent an extra day in the hospital ...
 
The following few days are mostly a blur, 2 years later my Mother tells me the timeline of events during those days and it's all news to me. I spent 3 weeks recovering in the country, in a little cottage up the coast a few hours from SF. That first night I stayed on the couch in a sitting position and the following 3 nights I slept in bed but only on my side as sleeping on my back gave me terrible sensations. My body was a foreign landscape that first week and for the first month I felt as close to vampiric as one can, I had no human bodily functions - no need to pee or poop, no interest in human food, in fact a revulsion of nearly every food or beverage.
 
Before I walked into the OR they weighed me one last time, 294. 2 weeks later I came back for a check up and they weighed me, 274. 20 pounds! Those first 20 pounds were more stunning than the following 100. After all the research, all the thinking, all the talking to sleevers, it still had never genuinely sunk in that this was real and that it really does work. I sat in my Dr's office, stunned!
 
There are plenty of people here on VST who tell delightful tales of reaching and exceeding their goals within 6 months, how they are now under goal, wear a size 0, and chirp chirp chirp, tweet tweet tweet. Well, good for them, wish I was one. That has never been my VSG story however. It was a full year before I joined the century club and 2 years out I am still shy of surgeon's goal by approx. 25 lbs and personal by approx. 50.
 
Two years out I sometimes still reflexively tense up when I sit in a chair with arms, genuinely expecting to not be able to fit into it. I still stiffen up when in crowds, thinking people are staring and staring for negative reasons. I still FEEL fat often, I still feel frustrated that after so much time and effort I still probably look like a pudgy lazy bones to the average lay person, but I would rather be at this stage of the game rather than having never begun and still at square one!
 
I've learned that losing weight and becoming physically active and strong does solve a lot of problems and does bring a lot of simple joy but that losing weight or becoming a specific size doesn't automatically confer happiness and that fat or thin life can just suck sometimes. Weight loss is NOT a fairy tale prince come to swoop me onto a horse and ride me off into a happily ever after sunset, a fact that honestly, I am still trying to come to terms with.
 
One final thought, I think I might not have made the decision or had the success I have had or a lot of positive things if it weren't for this forum and the support I've found here. Fellow sleevers from around the world have supported me, advised me, commiserated with me and have just been indispensable on this journey. I hope I have been able to give some of that back. Here's to the continued adventures, the continued seeking of and eventual attainment of goals, for me and for us all,
 
-Globetrotter

My last meal was bruschetta, little toasted pieces of baguette, rubbed with garlic, laden with chopped tomatoes and basil. I thought maybe I would never be able to eat them again, I mourned a little that it had come to this, I was excited to have hope again, I was already bookmarking favorites in online shopping, filling the imaginary shopping cart with pretty items in never before dreamt of sizes.
 
Two years ago today I woke very early, 6 perhaps, amazing how some things get forgotten ... I had drunk the horrific milk of magnesia the night before and had my final water at the same time and now was nervous and thirsty, the adrenaline making both sensations all the more acute. My Mother and I were at a hotel around the corner from the hospital and we drove there, or did we take the shuttle? I was in my pyjamas, having just showered with the special cleanser they gave me. I was private pay from one of the best surgical teams for VSG in the world, Laparascopic Associates of San Francisco, so I got a pretty 5 star treatment, private changing room, garment bag for my things, robes etc. with the LASF logo stitched on. I must have been nervous but my adrenaline kept me from really feeling much. My Mom and I waited in a private room, I laid on a bed in my gowns. One last trip to the bathroom and it was off to the OR to meet the kindest anesthesiologist ever, I think she had all sorts of dogs printed on her surgical cap, that's all I remember ...
Next thing, I was waking up in my room with a view of the City, in and out of consciousness ... there were popsicles ... there was walking ... there was feeling like I was going to barf but nothing happening ... I didn't pee when they wanted me to and a few other things so I spent an extra day in the hospital ...
 
The following few days are mostly a blur, 2 years later my Mother tells me the timeline of events during those days and it's all news to me. I spent 3 weeks recovering in the country, in a little cottage up the coast a few hours from SF. That first night I stayed on the couch in a sitting position and the following 3 nights I slept in bed but only on my side as sleeping on my back gave me terrible sensations. My body was a foreign landscape that first week and for the first month I felt as close to vampiric as one can, I had no human bodily functions - no need to pee or poop, no interest in human food, in fact a revulsion of nearly every food or beverage.
 
Before I walked into the OR they weighed me one last time, 294. 2 weeks later I came back for a check up and they weighed me, 274. 20 pounds! Those first 20 pounds were more stunning than the following 100. After all the research, all the thinking, all the talking to sleevers, it still had never genuinely sunk in that this was real and that it really does work. I sat in my Dr's office, stunned!
 
There are plenty of people here on VST who tell delightful tales of reaching and exceeding their goals within 6 months, how they are now under goal, wear a size 0, and chirp chirp chirp, tweet tweet tweet. Well, good for them, wish I was one. That has never been my VSG story however. It was a full year before I joined the century club and 2 years out I am still shy of surgeon's goal by approx. 25 lbs and personal by approx. 50.
 
Two years out I sometimes still reflexively tense up when I sit in a chair with arms, genuinely expecting to not be able to fit into it. I still stiffen up when in crowds, thinking people are staring and staring for negative reasons. I still FEEL fat often, I still feel frustrated that after so much time and effort I still probably look like a pudgy lazy bones to the average lay person, but I would rather be at this stage of the game rather than having never begun and still at square one!
 
I've learned that losing weight and becoming physically active and strong does solve a lot of problems and does bring a lot of simple joy but that losing weight or becoming a specific size doesn't automatically confer happiness and that fat or thin life can just suck sometimes. Weight loss is NOT a fairy tale prince come to swoop me onto a horse and ride me off into a happily ever after sunset, a fact that honestly, I am still trying to come to terms with.
 
One final thought, I think I might not have made the decision or had the success I have had or a lot of positive things if it weren't for this forum and the support I've found here. Fellow sleevers from around the world have supported me, advised me, commiserated with me and have just been indispensable on this journey. I hope I have been able to give some of that back. Here's to the continued adventures, the continued seeking of and eventual attainment of goals, for me and for us all,
 
-Globetrotter

My last meal was bruschetta, little toasted pieces of baguette, rubbed with garlic, laden with chopped tomatoes and basil. I thought maybe I would never be able to eat them again, I mourned a little that it had come to this, I was excited to have hope again, I was already bookmarking favorites in online shopping, filling the imaginary shopping cart with pretty items in never before dreamt of sizes.
 
Two years ago today I woke very early, 6 perhaps, amazing how some things get forgotten ... I had drunk the horrific milk of magnesia the night before and had my final water at the same time and now was nervous and thirsty, the adrenaline making both sensations all the more acute. My Mother and I were at a hotel around the corner from the hospital and we drove there, or did we take the shuttle? I was in my pyjamas, having just showered with the special cleanser they gave me. I was private pay from one of the best surgical teams for VSG in the world, Laparascopic Associates of San Francisco, so I got a pretty 5 star treatment, private changing room, garment bag for my things, robes etc. with the LASF logo stitched on. I must have been nervous but my adrenaline kept me from really feeling much. My Mom and I waited in a private room, I laid on a bed in my gowns. One last trip to the bathroom and it was off to the OR to meet the kindest anesthesiologist ever, I think she had all sorts of dogs printed on her surgical cap, that's all I remember ...
Next thing, I was waking up in my room with a view of the City, in and out of consciousness ... there were popsicles ... there was walking ... there was feeling like I was going to barf but nothing happening ... I didn't pee when they wanted me to and a few other things so I spent an extra day in the hospital ...
 
The following few days are mostly a blur, 2 years later my Mother tells me the timeline of events during those days and it's all news to me. I spent 3 weeks recovering in the country, in a little cottage up the coast a few hours from SF. That first night I stayed on the couch in a sitting position and the following 3 nights I slept in bed but only on my side as sleeping on my back gave me terrible sensations. My body was a foreign landscape that first week and for the first month I felt as close to vampiric as one can, I had no human bodily functions - no need to pee or poop, no interest in human food, in fact a revulsion of nearly every food or beverage.
 
Before I walked into the OR they weighed me one last time, 294. 2 weeks later I came back for a check up and they weighed me, 274. 20 pounds! Those first 20 pounds were more stunning than the following 100. After all the research, all the thinking, all the talking to sleevers, it still had never genuinely sunk in that this was real and that it really does work. I sat in my Dr's office, stunned!
 
There are plenty of people here on VST who tell delightful tales of reaching and exceeding their goals within 6 months, how they are now under goal, wear a size 0, and chirp chirp chirp, tweet tweet tweet. Well, good for them, wish I was one. That has never been my VSG story however. It was a full year before I joined the century club and 2 years out I am still shy of surgeon's goal by approx. 25 lbs and personal by approx. 50.
 
Two years out I sometimes still reflexively tense up when I sit in a chair with arms, genuinely expecting to not be able to fit into it. I still stiffen up when in crowds, thinking people are staring and staring for negative reasons. I still FEEL fat often, I still feel frustrated that after so much time and effort I still probably look like a pudgy lazy bones to the average lay person, but I would rather be at this stage of the game rather than having never begun and still at square one!
 
I've learned that losing weight and becoming physically active and strong does solve a lot of problems and does bring a lot of simple joy but that losing weight or becoming a specific size doesn't automatically confer happiness and that fat or thin life can just suck sometimes. Weight loss is NOT a fairy tale prince come to swoop me onto a horse and ride me off into a happily ever after sunset, a fact that honestly, I am still trying to come to terms with.
 
One final thought, I think I might not have made the decision or had the success I have had or a lot of positive things if it weren't for this forum and the support I've found here. Fellow sleevers from around the world have supported me, advised me, commiserated with me and have just been indispensable on this journey. I hope I have been able to give some of that back. Here's to the continued adventures, the continued seeking of and eventual attainment of goals, for me and for us all,
 
-Globetrotter

My last meal was bruschetta, little toasted pieces of baguette, rubbed with garlic, laden with chopped tomatoes and basil. I thought maybe I would never be able to eat them again, I mourned a little that it had come to this, I was excited to have hope again, I was already bookmarking favorites in online shopping, filling the imaginary shopping cart with pretty items in never before dreamt of sizes.
 
Two years ago today I woke very early, 6 perhaps, amazing how some things get forgotten ... I had drunk the horrific milk of magnesia the night before and had my final water at the same time and now was nervous and thirsty, the adrenaline making both sensations all the more acute. My Mother and I were at a hotel around the corner from the hospital and we drove there, or did we take the shuttle? I was in my pyjamas, having just showered with the special cleanser they gave me. I was private pay from one of the best surgical teams for VSG in the world, Laparascopic Associates of San Francisco, so I got a pretty 5 star treatment, private changing room, garment bag for my things, robes etc. with the LASF logo stitched on. I must have been nervous but my adrenaline kept me from really feeling much. My Mom and I waited in a private room, I laid on a bed in my gowns. One last trip to the bathroom and it was off to the OR to meet the kindest anesthesiologist ever, I think she had all sorts of dogs printed on her surgical cap, that's all I remember ...
Next thing, I was waking up in my room with a view of the City, in and out of consciousness ... there were popsicles ... there was walking ... there was feeling like I was going to barf but nothing happening ... I didn't pee when they wanted me to and a few other things so I spent an extra day in the hospital ...
 
The following few days are mostly a blur, 2 years later my Mother tells me the timeline of events during those days and it's all news to me. I spent 3 weeks recovering in the country, in a little cottage up the coast a few hours from SF. That first night I stayed on the couch in a sitting position and the following 3 nights I slept in bed but only on my side as sleeping on my back gave me terrible sensations. My body was a foreign landscape that first week and for the first month I felt as close to vampiric as one can, I had no human bodily functions - no need to pee or poop, no interest in human food, in fact a revulsion of nearly every food or beverage.
 
Before I walked into the OR they weighed me one last time, 294. 2 weeks later I came back for a check up and they weighed me, 274. 20 pounds! Those first 20 pounds were more stunning than the following 100. After all the research, all the thinking, all the talking to sleevers, it still had never genuinely sunk in that this was real and that it really does work. I sat in my Dr's office, stunned!
 
There are plenty of people here on VST who tell delightful tales of reaching and exceeding their goals within 6 months, how they are now under goal, wear a size 0, and chirp chirp chirp, tweet tweet tweet. Well, good for them, wish I was one. That has never been my VSG story however. It was a full year before I joined the century club and 2 years out I am still shy of surgeon's goal by approx. 25 lbs and personal by approx. 50.
 
Two years out I sometimes still reflexively tense up when I sit in a chair with arms, genuinely expecting to not be able to fit into it. I still stiffen up when in crowds, thinking people are staring and staring for negative reasons. I still FEEL fat often, I still feel frustrated that after so much time and effort I still probably look like a pudgy lazy bones to the average lay person, but I would rather be at this stage of the game rather than having never begun and still at square one!
 
I've learned that losing weight and becoming physically active and strong does solve a lot of problems and does bring a lot of simple joy but that losing weight or becoming a specific size doesn't automatically confer happiness and that fat or thin life can just suck sometimes. Weight loss is NOT a fairy tale prince come to swoop me onto a horse and ride me off into a happily ever after sunset, a fact that honestly, I am still trying to come to terms with.
 
One final thought, I think I might not have made the decision or had the success I have had or a lot of positive things if it weren't for this forum and the support I've found here. Fellow sleevers from around the world have supported me, advised me, commiserated with me and have just been indispensable on this journey. I hope I have been able to give some of that back. Here's to the continued adventures, the continued seeking of and eventual attainment of goals, for me and for us all,
 
-Globetrotter

My last meal was bruschetta, little toasted pieces of baguette, rubbed with garlic, laden with chopped tomatoes and basil. I thought maybe I would never be able to eat them again, I mourned a little that it had come to this, I was excited to have hope again, I was already bookmarking favorites in online shopping, filling the imaginary shopping cart with pretty items in never before dreamt of sizes.
 
Two years ago today I woke very early, 6 perhaps, amazing how some things get forgotten ... I had drunk the horrific milk of magnesia the night before and had my final water at the same time and now was nervous and thirsty, the adrenaline making both sensations all the more acute. My Mother and I were at a hotel around the corner from the hospital and we drove there, or did we take the shuttle? I was in my pyjamas, having just showered with the special cleanser they gave me. I was private pay from one of the best surgical teams for VSG in the world, Laparascopic Associates of San Francisco, so I got a pretty 5 star treatment, private changing room, garment bag for my things, robes etc. with the LASF logo stitched on. I must have been nervous but my adrenaline kept me from really feeling much. My Mom and I waited in a private room, I laid on a bed in my gowns. One last trip to the bathroom and it was off to the OR to meet the kindest anesthesiologist ever, I think she had all sorts of dogs printed on her surgical cap, that's all I remember ...
Next thing, I was waking up in my room with a view of the City, in and out of consciousness ... there were popsicles ... there was walking ... there was feeling like I was going to barf but nothing happening ... I didn't pee when they wanted me to and a few other things so I spent an extra day in the hospital ...
 
The following few days are mostly a blur, 2 years later my Mother tells me the timeline of events during those days and it's all news to me. I spent 3 weeks recovering in the country, in a little cottage up the coast a few hours from SF. That first night I stayed on the couch in a sitting position and the following 3 nights I slept in bed but only on my side as sleeping on my back gave me terrible sensations. My body was a foreign landscape that first week and for the first month I felt as close to vampiric as one can, I had no human bodily functions - no need to pee or poop, no interest in human food, in fact a revulsion of nearly every food or beverage.
 
Before I walked into the OR they weighed me one last time, 294. 2 weeks later I came back for a check up and they weighed me, 274. 20 pounds! Those first 20 pounds were more stunning than the following 100. After all the research, all the thinking, all the talking to sleevers, it still had never genuinely sunk in that this was real and that it really does work. I sat in my Dr's office, stunned!
 
There are plenty of people here on VST who tell delightful tales of reaching and exceeding their goals within 6 months, how they are now under goal, wear a size 0, and chirp chirp chirp, tweet tweet tweet. Well, good for them, wish I was one. That has never been my VSG story however. It was a full year before I joined the century club and 2 years out I am still shy of surgeon's goal by approx. 25 lbs and personal by approx. 50.
 
Two years out I sometimes still reflexively tense up when I sit in a chair with arms, genuinely expecting to not be able to fit into it. I still stiffen up when in crowds, thinking people are staring and staring for negative reasons. I still FEEL fat often, I still feel frustrated that after so much time and effort I still probably look like a pudgy lazy bones to the average lay person, but I would rather be at this stage of the game rather than having never begun and still at square one!
 
I've learned that losing weight and becoming physically active and strong does solve a lot of problems and does bring a lot of simple joy but that losing weight or becoming a specific size doesn't automatically confer happiness and that fat or thin life can just suck sometimes. Weight loss is NOT a fairy tale prince come to swoop me onto a horse and ride me off into a happily ever after sunset, a fact that honestly, I am still trying to come to terms with.
 
One final thought, I think I might not have made the decision or had the success I have had or a lot of positive things if it weren't for this forum and the support I've found here. Fellow sleevers from around the world have supported me, advised me, commiserated with me and have just been indispensable on this journey. I hope I have been able to give some of that back. Here's to the continued adventures, the continued seeking of and eventual attainment of goals, for me and for us all,
 
-Globetrotter

My last meal was bruschetta, little toasted pieces of baguette, rubbed with garlic, laden with chopped tomatoes and basil. I thought maybe I would never be able to eat them again, I mourned a little that it had come to this, I was excited to have hope again, I was already bookmarking favorites in online shopping, filling the imaginary shopping cart with pretty items in never before dreamt of sizes.
 
Two years ago today I woke very early, 6 perhaps, amazing how some things get forgotten ... I had drunk the horrific milk of magnesia the night before and had my final water at the same time and now was nervous and thirsty, the adrenaline making both sensations all the more acute. My Mother and I were at a hotel around the corner from the hospital and we drove there, or did we take the shuttle? I was in my pyjamas, having just showered with the special cleanser they gave me. I was private pay from one of the best surgical teams for VSG in the world, Laparascopic Associates of San Francisco, so I got a pretty 5 star treatment, private changing room, garment bag for my things, robes etc. with the LASF logo stitched on. I must have been nervous but my adrenaline kept me from really feeling much. My Mom and I waited in a private room, I laid on a bed in my gowns. One last trip to the bathroom and it was off to the OR to meet the kindest anesthesiologist ever, I think she had all sorts of dogs printed on her surgical cap, that's all I remember ...
Next thing, I was waking up in my room with a view of the City, in and out of consciousness ... there were popsicles ... there was walking ... there was feeling like I was going to barf but nothing happening ... I didn't pee when they wanted me to and a few other things so I spent an extra day in the hospital ...
 
The following few days are mostly a blur, 2 years later my Mother tells me the timeline of events during those days and it's all news to me. I spent 3 weeks recovering in the country, in a little cottage up the coast a few hours from SF. That first night I stayed on the couch in a sitting position and the following 3 nights I slept in bed but only on my side as sleeping on my back gave me terrible sensations. My body was a foreign landscape that first week and for the first month I felt as close to vampiric as one can, I had no human bodily functions - no need to pee or poop, no interest in human food, in fact a revulsion of nearly every food or beverage.
 
Before I walked into the OR they weighed me one last time, 294. 2 weeks later I came back for a check up and they weighed me, 274. 20 pounds! Those first 20 pounds were more stunning than the following 100. After all the research, all the thinking, all the talking to sleevers, it still had never genuinely sunk in that this was real and that it really does work. I sat in my Dr's office, stunned!
 
There are plenty of people here on VST who tell delightful tales of reaching and exceeding their goals within 6 months, how they are now under goal, wear a size 0, and chirp chirp chirp, tweet tweet tweet. Well, good for them, wish I was one. That has never been my VSG story however. It was a full year before I joined the century club and 2 years out I am still shy of surgeon's goal by approx. 25 lbs and personal by approx. 50.
 
Two years out I sometimes still reflexively tense up when I sit in a chair with arms, genuinely expecting to not be able to fit into it. I still stiffen up when in crowds, thinking people are staring and staring for negative reasons. I still FEEL fat often, I still feel frustrated that after so much time and effort I still probably look like a pudgy lazy bones to the average lay person, but I would rather be at this stage of the game rather than having never begun and still at square one!
 
I've learned that losing weight and becoming physically active and strong does solve a lot of problems and does bring a lot of simple joy but that losing weight or becoming a specific size doesn't automatically confer happiness and that fat or thin life can just suck sometimes. Weight loss is NOT a fairy tale prince come to swoop me onto a horse and ride me off into a happily ever after sunset, a fact that honestly, I am still trying to come to terms with.
 
One final thought, I think I might not have made the decision or had the success I have had or a lot of positive things if it weren't for this forum and the support I've found here. Fellow sleevers from around the world have supported me, advised me, commiserated with me and have just been indispensable on this journey. I hope I have been able to give some of that back. Here's to the continued adventures, the continued seeking of and eventual attainment of goals, for me and for us all,
 
-Globetrotter

My last meal was bruschetta, little toasted pieces of baguette, rubbed with garlic, laden with chopped tomatoes and basil. I thought maybe I would never be able to eat them again, I mourned a little that it had come to this, I was excited to have hope again, I was already bookmarking favorites in online shopping, filling the imaginary shopping cart with pretty items in never before dreamt of sizes.
 
Two years ago today I woke very early, 6 perhaps, amazing how some things get forgotten ... I had drunk the horrific milk of magnesia the night before and had my final water at the same time and now was nervous and thirsty, the adrenaline making both sensations all the more acute. My Mother and I were at a hotel around the corner from the hospital and we drove there, or did we take the shuttle? I was in my pyjamas, having just showered with the special cleanser they gave me. I was private pay from one of the best surgical teams for VSG in the world, Laparascopic Associates of San Francisco, so I got a pretty 5 star treatment, private changing room, garment bag for my things, robes etc. with the LASF logo stitched on. I must have been nervous but my adrenaline kept me from really feeling much. My Mom and I waited in a private room, I laid on a bed in my gowns. One last trip to the bathroom and it was off to the OR to meet the kindest anesthesiologist ever, I think she had all sorts of dogs printed on her surgical cap, that's all I remember ...
Next thing, I was waking up in my room with a view of the City, in and out of consciousness ... there were popsicles ... there was walking ... there was feeling like I was going to barf but nothing happening ... I didn't pee when they wanted me to and a few other things so I spent an extra day in the hospital ...
 
The following few days are mostly a blur, 2 years later my Mother tells me the timeline of events during those days and it's all news to me. I spent 3 weeks recovering in the country, in a little cottage up the coast a few hours from SF. That first night I stayed on the couch in a sitting position and the following 3 nights I slept in bed but only on my side as sleeping on my back gave me terrible sensations. My body was a foreign landscape that first week and for the first month I felt as close to vampiric as one can, I had no human bodily functions - no need to pee or poop, no interest in human food, in fact a revulsion of nearly every food or beverage.
 
Before I walked into the OR they weighed me one last time, 294. 2 weeks later I came back for a check up and they weighed me, 274. 20 pounds! Those first 20 pounds were more stunning than the following 100. After all the research, all the thinking, all the talking to sleevers, it still had never genuinely sunk in that this was real and that it really does work. I sat in my Dr's office, stunned!
 
There are plenty of people here on VST who tell delightful tales of reaching and exceeding their goals within 6 months, how they are now under goal, wear a size 0, and chirp chirp chirp, tweet tweet tweet. Well, good for them, wish I was one. That has never been my VSG story however. It was a full year before I joined the century club and 2 years out I am still shy of surgeon's goal by approx. 25 lbs and personal by approx. 50.
 
Two years out I sometimes still reflexively tense up when I sit in a chair with arms, genuinely expecting to not be able to fit into it. I still stiffen up when in crowds, thinking people are staring and staring for negative reasons. I still FEEL fat often, I still feel frustrated that after so much time and effort I still probably look like a pudgy lazy bones to the average lay person, but I would rather be at this stage of the game rather than having never begun and still at square one!
 
I've learned that losing weight and becoming physically active and strong does solve a lot of problems and does bring a lot of simple joy but that losing weight or becoming a specific size doesn't automatically confer happiness and that fat or thin life can just suck sometimes. Weight loss is NOT a fairy tale prince come to swoop me onto a horse and ride me off into a happily ever after sunset, a fact that honestly, I am still trying to come to terms with.
 
One final thought, I think I might not have made the decision or had the success I have had or a lot of positive things if it weren't for this forum and the support I've found here. Fellow sleevers from around the world have supported me, advised me, commiserated with me and have just been indispensable on this journey. I hope I have been able to give some of that back. Here's to the continued adventures, the continued seeking of and eventual attainment of goals, for me and for us all,
 
-Globetrotter