I believe anyone that has 85% of their stomach removed will lose weight. You can't help but lose, if you are limited to 4oz of food every few hours.
Now the big question is, where is your hunger coming from? Only you can figure that part out. Is it from emotional eating, boredome, stress, or is it because you have hunger pangs caused by the hormone ghrelin?
From my own experience, I knew that my hunger was real (even though I had eaten 2 hours earlier, I'd be hungry again). It wasn't until I talked to my surgeon that he told me that I had an excess of the hormone ghrelin (produced by the stomach). The bigger the stomach, the more of the hormone produced.
The surgery stopped my hunger pangs. I have not had that nagging sense of hunger (other than my stomach growling) since surgery 7 weeks ago. And 4 or 5 oz of food keeps me satisfied, whereas before, I could eat 1 lb of steak and know I'd be raiding the fridge in 2 hours.
And I don't have any cravings anymore for certain flavors. Whereas before, I'd think about something that would taste good and I couldn't get the thought out of my head until I ate it - and a lot of it, not just a small portion.
Don't get me wrong, you can sabotage yourself after surgery. There are foods, called slider foods, that are calorie dense (ice cream, peanut butter) that pass through the stomach quickly, so it's possible to eat more. And it is possible to just graze all day on snacks that are high in calories.
The sleeve gave me the control over my eating that I needed. When I eat, I have full control of what I eat. I can pass on the donuts or just have 1 and be satisfied. With the exception of pasta - it triggers my sugar cravings. So I have to be real careful about eating it.
But I don't know if I'd the same success if my hunger was tied to my emotions instead of hormones.
I really believe food was an addiction - one you can't quit and never touch again.
Other addictions can be quit and never touched again. But what if a heroine addict, smoker or alcoholic knew they had to take some every day or their body would die?
What if they had 75 TV channels that ran commericals for cigarrets every 10 minutes during their favorite programs? Or had reality programs (like the best places to pig out or the food challenges) devoted to the best places to get their fix and showed people taking drugs and loving it? Could the addicts just reduce the amount they took every day and never over do it or would they give in to the nagging voice in their head telling them how good it was going to feel?
How long has it been? How long since I felt like I was the right size and weight and everything about my body was acceptable?
And, bigger question... Where did this bloated, waddling, unhealthy, wide loaded woman come from that keeps showing up in my mirror and in pictures that get taken with my family?
Looking in the mirror is so hard, especially in the evenings when I'm getting ready for bed and seeing "all my glory" and realizing I really am as big and ugly fat and tired looking as I feel. Arrrrggghhh!
Is that really me? How did I let myself get to this point? I sit in a dressing room, my cute little teenage daughter (13) trying on adorable trendy little outfits and dresses. I see her spin and pose as she gets in a pink princess thing. She walks back in to try another one on. I'm sitting on a bench holding several hangers of other dresses and feeling tired, again. I look over at the mirror and see myself and I lose it. I cry and almost start sobbing right then and there. It hurts so bad. I used to look like her and I thought I was fat. Is that what doomed me to this? Was it because I didn't thank God for how I looked then? Did I take it for granted?
Honestly, I have thought I was fat from eighth grade (5'7", 130 lbs) when I began to get taller and a little wider in the hips than my little petite and pretty and girly classmates. That's the same age as my youngest daughter. I already hear occasional little comments she makes of herself and things that are not just perfect. I want to make her see how beautiful she is and embrace it!
When I look back at pictures from that time in my life (high school years), I wanna go back and slap her (myself) silly for not appreciating how pretty I was. I really had such an adorable figure. No, I didn't have much in the way of boobs, but I had curves in other "right places." I got attention from boys. I looked great and was tall and thin really, until I had my second child at 22.
In all truth, I know a lot of the explanations and reasons that I am in this place physically. I know there are a variety of things to blame from four pregnancies, perhaps a few medical causes, nutritionally bad choices, laziness, pain, bad marriage, stress, genetics, environment, and probably a few I haven't read about or dealt with yet.
Now in the last three years I come to the point where I have these little break downs like in the dressing rooms multiple times, or getting ready for a night out or to go to church and just sit in my closet and cry and hate myself. I've done it getting out of bed (rather, heaving myself out). Mentally being in a state of fury at my limitations that I know are self-imposed when I try to help my daughter move out of her college apartment and I can't even carry a 15 pound box down a flight of stairs without having to rest 10 minutes and huff and puff like I ran a mile.
This place is my "low point"... my "end of the rope". I'm at the bottom and exhausted enough to finally admit I need MAJOR HELP. And THAT is what brought me to WLS and specifically VSG.
There is a change in my focus that has helped me transition slowly, day by day from disgust with where I let my weight go and my new found hope and belief in myself I have begun to feed little by little with that hope. I can do this... I can do this... I really can be healthy and fit again. There is a tool I can use that I never really considered. Thanks to where I am in my life, the fact that we have good insurance through my husband's job and the support and encouragement he has showered on me constantly... I'm ready.
I'm feeling that by this time next year, I'll be looking in mirrors and pictures and saying "WOW, I knew that pretty girl was still in there somewhere under all the fat."
