ThePaparazzo

Thanks everyone! :-)

Question: At what point did any of you start back? I'm about 3 weeks past surgery and would love a cup of tea that isn't herbal. Thanks!

Photographer/Photojournalist based in Philly. Sleeved a week ago today and having some minor issues. Haven't gotten to "love" my sleeve just yet, but working on it. :-)

At the very least, a GREAT conversation starter.

King of Prussia here...sleeved 8/1 at Abington

You're also building up muscle mass now.

I wanted to keep mine, dry and tan it and have it made into a pair of shoes

The latest vlog discusses the fun of having foodie dreams, and the reality that crashes down after. https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=372338442892183

Yup...just joined here today. Surgery is on Thursday

Hi All...I'm Brian. Just found out about this site today and having the surgery on Thursday. I was always the “Fat” kid. I was perennially picked last for the teams at school and camp, frequently turned down for school dances and weekend dates, and we won’t even go into being the fat kid who was saddled with the initials BM. Growing up was not a cakewalk. But here’s the thing…I wasn’t fat! I may have been “husky” but I wasn’t fat. I may have been slightly pudgy, but never fat. I was a big kid with a big build to be sure, but I wasn’t fat. If you look at pictures of me in elementary school and high school…I wasn’t fat. I just wasn’t “thin” and when you combine that with average looks, the “cool” kids pigeonhole you as “the fat kid”. Now to be fair, I come from a long line of fat asses. My mom my was fat, like her father before her and his father before him. I come by it honestly. So if I REALLY wanted to, I could say I was genetically enhanced to be fat. Gaga would say I was just “born that way”. I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately and I have to tell you, I don’t buy into it…I believe the weight I carry with me at age 41 is not just physical, but mental. I was bullied at a young age into believing I was the “fat” kid. I was cajoled and conditioned and eventually accepted the fact that I was the “fat” kid who was bad at sports and socially awkward. I honed my sense of humor to quickly disarm those who would “attack” me. Taking pot shots at myself would render my adolescent tormentors without ammunition, and ultimately I learned how to make my fat skin thick. I discovered acting at a young age and fell in love. For 2 hours, I didn’t have to be seen or known as “Brian The Fat” but “Brian The Actor” who played to perfection loudmouthed, slightly pudgy characters like Nathan Detroit, Daddy Warbucks, Psedulous and countless others! I eventually became part of a high school rock band and sang…I was not “Brian The Fat” but “Brian The Singer”. I played in other bands over the years as a drummer. It helped that sitting behind a kit would also hide the increasingly larger “Brian The Fat”, that would show up soon as the last song was finished. But unfortunately by that time, the damage was already done to my psyche. “Brian The Fat” was not only large, but now in charge. Now, this isn’t a sad story. Those early years; for better or for worse, shaped and molded me to who I am today, which is pretty damn good. I have an awesome marriage with my wife Michele, after realizing as an adult that bullies are always going to be bullies no matter what the age, we have a wonderful group of friends and after opening a business at the worst economic time possible, I have managed to increasingly grow it and watch it become successful. For years, I embraced and to a point celebrated my increasing weight. I changed my moniker from “Brian The Fat” to “Brian The Fat Ass” and joked about it openly. I once embarrassed the crap out of my wife at a Dillard’s Department Store while we were on vacation in Florida. We walked in and I asked the very nice salesperson where “The fat ass section” was. But now I’m REALLY fat, weighing it at a hefty 315 pounds. I’m the picture of health for a fat ass, and if there is such a thing, I wear my weight well. I don’t look like I weigh as much as I do. But any way I try and spin it, 315 pounds is morbidly obese and not the picture of health. It has slowly taken a toll my knees and my back…it makes it difficult to shop for clothes and impedes my job as a photographer. I remember for years talking to Mom about her weight and saying “just don’t eat this” or “eat less of that”. She would always say that “it’s not that easy…” and I remember thinking “well, how hard could it be?” I found out in the last 10 years…it’s pretty damned hard. I, like my mother before me, have tried every diet out there. Weight Watchers, Medifast, Atkins, etc. They have all worked with varying degrees of success, but the weight ultimately came back. For no other reason than “well, if I have just ONE…” Sadly, it doesn’t end with just one. Most of the time, it doesn’t end with two or three either. People who’ve never struggled with weight don’t understand why “you can’t just eat less and exercise more”? I never really had answer for them until recently when I started thinking long and hard about how I got here. When it came to these “lose weight fast” diets, I always felt that if I can train my body to be happy with X amount of food, it would just learn how to do without; the same way I trained my body that it no longer needed nicotine. Eat less, stomach shrinks, EASY! Except it’s not. The problem is you’re constantly battling your memories and habits that have formed from them. Had a bad day? Nothing an ice cream cone or Tastykake can’t fix. It’s only a small detour…I’ll start the diet again tomorrow. Eating dinner out with friends…having a dinner roll or two, followed by an appetizer, meal and dessert has ALWAYS been the norm. I’ll just do it tonight and I’ll start the diet again tomorrow. It all adds up. The meals, the safe harbor foods, lack of exercise because you’re just not one of those people who enjoy anything but walking (and yes, I’ve tried!)… A lifetime of events and mental luggage that has now taken up residence around my midsection. For the last couple of years, I have been investigating and considering bariatric surgery. I have seen it do wonderful things for both family and friends and thought maybe it could do the for me. But I wasn’t 100% sold on the bypass side of things, and I also had heard too many horror stories about the lap band. I went to information sessions, did a lot of testing and met with Abington Bariatric Surgeon Dr. Gintaras Antanaviscus (don’t even try…just call him Dr. G). While yes, it will help me lose weight and keep it off…there is an entire mental side that needs to be dealt with as well. I’ve spent a lifetime being “Brian The Fat.” It’s so much a part of who I am…so it’s going to be a long road to not look in the mirror and see him looking back. It’s going to be an interesting ride to say the least. Luckily there are support groups for people who have had this surgery, and I have a very loving wife and family who are there to support me as well. Exercise is going to have to be part of the life in this new body. The nice thing is that I’ll be able to walk more than 2 miles without my knees and back hurting. Hell, I may even be able to do more than 1 pushup without feeling like I’m ready to pass out. I truly enjoy walking, and I’m excited that I’ll be able to do more of it. I won’t be doing a couch to 5k or anything like close to that. I’ve never enjoyed running and never will. You people who do it are just nuts There is no such thing as a “happily ever after” when it comes to something like this. I know there will be days I’ll be frustrated that I won’t be able to fully enjoy a meal at Capital Grille, but the tradeoff for that is not having to worry if I need to buy a second seat on an airplane. Sure, I won’t be able to eat but a few bites of an ice cream cone anymore, but the tradeoff for that is that I can shop in any clothing store now, and wear clothes that I actually like…rather than just buying something because it fits. Sometimes you have to sacrifice one slice of happy for another. So…that’s the story. I don’t know what the next year to 18 months will bring…but I know that at the very least I’ll have added time to live (provided I don’t get hit by a bus) the life I’ve made with Michele. That alone is worth the price of admission.