Hope4K

Hi! I was banded back in 2008. I'm 5'4" and my weight before surgery was 290-something. I lost about 130 lbs in the first year, and maintained at around 165-175 (for me this weight equated to around a size 10, which I was fairly pleased with) for almost 10 years. I had a tummy tuck in 2016 and believe that my band was nicked when the plastic surgeon moved my port. In any case i suffered a 'slow leak' in the band that my surgeon Dr. Elariny could not pinpont, even under fluoroscopy, and have not really had any restriction for the last 5 years. I have sloooowwwwlly gained back up to 215 lbs during that time. Last month I had a consult with Dr Elariny to explore options for another weight loss surgery. He asked me a million questions about my eating habits and ultimately said he believes I'll be most successful with the DS. At first I was completely against it, as the malabsorptive procedures have always scared me. But after voraciously reading this and a few other DS forums, I have decided I want to go forward bc it seems like this is the most successful, most foolproof procedure. Ultimately I want to go back to the way I felt when my Lap-band was working perfectly for all those years....when I finally wasn't on a diet, for the first time in my 37 year life. I didn't have to be obsessed over every bite I put in my mouth. I wasn't constantly beating myself up over eating too many calories or eating the wrong things or eating between meals or after a certain time at night, etc etc etc. For many years when my band was working, I felt like I just ate like a "normal" person. It was so incredibly liberating. If I felt like eating a burger i ate a burger. If i felt like eating a salad i ate a salad. I just ate when I was hungry and didn't have to think about it alllll the time. I want to go back to occasionally getting on the scale out of curiosity, rather than getting on it every morning and feeling desperate and ashamed. I do think that in addition to the lack of restriction, that menopause and hormonal changes are working against me now, at age 51. I haven't changed a thing about my exercise routine. I still workout every morning, 5-7 days per week, doing a combo of weight lifting and HIIT. But nonetheless i've just steadily put on weight, year over year. So, to bring this to a question of some sort...I guess I'd like to know if any of you long-time DS'ers feel like you eat "like normal people" now? And don't have to think about it so much? Or must you be extremely focused on what you eat bc of the ill effects the malabsorption causes? It is sort of confusing that my doctor tells me that if I eat high fat foods after this surgery I'll be rewarded with many urgent trips to the bathroom, and that if i eat carbs I'll experience terrible and potently malodorous gas. But many posts I've read have said something along the lines of "fat is your friend after the DS". I understand that Your Mileage May Vary, and every person is different. And my other question is whether I'm crazy, with a BMI of 37, to consider such a "drastic" procedure? My insurance has already approved me, for what it's worth. Thanks in advance for all of your thoughts!

I am scheduled for lap band removal/DS surgery on 5/23. Starting the pre-op diet on Monday. Eeeeek!! I was banded back in 2008. I'm 5'4" and my weight before surgery was 290-something. I lost about 130 lbs in the first year, and maintained at around 165-175 (for me this weight equated to around a size 10, which I was fairly pleased with) for almost 10 years. I had a Tummy Tuck in 2016 and believe that my band was nicked when the plastic surgeon moved my port. In any case i suffered a 'slow leak' in the band that my surgeon Dr. Elariny could not pinpont, even under fluoroscopy, and have not really had any restriction for the last 5 years. I have sloooowwwwlly gained back up to 215 lbs during that time. I'm scared to death and simultaneously super excited for the DS surgery.

I'm thrilled to report that I'm down 52.5 pounds since surgery on 5/19/08. I'm losing pretty steadily at a rate of about 10 pounds per month, on average. I LOVE MY BAND!!!!!

September 2, just about 16 weeks out from surgery - 227, down from 271 Well, hmmmm, let's see...I'm down 44 pounds, no longer morbidly obese, just plain old obese. I'm losing pretty consistently at an average of around 10 pounds a month. Not bad! I've only had one fill, back in July. I feel so much better, and have started running again, finally. Started that at about 13 weeks out. That really feels great, I have to say. Well - that is to say that I have always HATED running while I'm actually doing it, but it's the best way to lose weight I know of. I feel like it's the best bang for your buck, in terms of exercise. And it feels great that I can actually do it again. I'm only going for short runs at this point, only 2 miles at a time, and I feel like I'm going to die at the end of it, but I know I'm building the stamina to increase gradually. The best part has been running with my husband. A year ago I wondered if I'd EVER be able to do that again. My restriction continues to come and go, come and go. It really is the most bewildering thing. For instance, I recently went to Vegas with a friend, and I was scared to death that the 5 hour flight would leave me with a tighter-than-tight band when I arrived. I read that all the time on LBT, people saying that flying makes them tight as hell. The flight on the way out to Vegas had absolutely no discernible impact on my band whatsoever. My restriction was the same as it had been at home: tightest in the morning, so-so at lunch, and considerably looser in the evening. But, after I returned home - whammo! For the next week, I was as tight as I had been just after I got my one and only fill in July! Maybe it was a delayed reaction?? Who knows? But I've loosened up a little bit since then. Anyway, we're making our annual trek to the beach for a week in just under 4 days. I was hoping to be in the 220's by the time we took our beach vacation this year, and I'm happy to say that I made that goal. The only thing is, I still feel huge. :party: None of my clothes fit, they are all too big, so I'm wearing the same two or three outfits over and over again. It is very frustrating trying to get dressed every morning, but I know it's a "high class" problem to have. But it's funny, 4 months ago, at 271, I was thinking how absolutely glorious it would be to be in the 220's at the beach this year, and how much more comfortable I'd surely be in my own skin. Yeaaaaah, not so much. I still cringe when I look at myself in a bathing suit, I still detest my flabby upper arms and my big belly. I know that I AM more comfortable now that I've been running and my legs have leaned out a lot and I can actually wear bermuda shorts in public and not feel like crying. But, I still long to be a girl in a tank top or a cute halter shirt or sundress when I'm at the beach, and sadly, I still won't be that girl this year. But, I guess the difference is that I know I'll EVENTUALLY get there, and that I can just keep looking forward to next year's beach vacation. The next big thing I'm looking forward to is going to the Christmas party at my husband's law firm this year and being, hopefully, at least 60 or 70 pounds lighter than I was last year, or the year before last. I'm REALLY looking forward to shopping for something youthful to wear, instead of the matronly formal clothes I've been consigned to for so many years. Dear God how I've longed to wear a 'little black dress' to these kinds of events for so many years. Now, granted, I know I won't be wearing a truly 'little' dress at 210 or so, but it will damn sure be littler than anything I've worn in the past. Can't wait to shop for that! This band frustrates me at times, when I'm looking forward to eating something delicious, and then simply can't eat it. Or when I'm really, really hungry, and take too big of a bite and get stuck.....and just end up really uncomfortable, unable to eat, and still hungry! And I'm constantly worried that I'll be found out - that a friend will put two and two together and come right out and ask me if I had weight loss surgery. I still feel desperate about keeping this a secret. AND, I'm starting to get just a little tired of having the few people who HAVE commented that they've noticed I've lost weight say, "Wow, I can really see it in your face and your shoulders!" I mean, come ON people, I have not lost 40 pounds from my double chins alone! I would really like for someone to say, "you know, your ASS really looks smaller!" That would be very gratifying. But for now I satisfy myself by noticing how much less space my ass seems to take up in my clothes each day. Patience, grasshopper, patience....I still stand by what I said in a previous post (or two), which is that I love this band and would have this surgery all over again in a h-e-a-r-t-b-e-a-t!

September 2, just about 16 weeks out from surgery - 227, down from 271 Well, hmmmm, let's see...I'm down 44 pounds, no longer morbidly obese, just plain old obese. I'm losing pretty consistently at an average of around 10 pounds a month. Not bad! I've only had one fill, back in July. I feel so much better, and have started running again, finally. Started that at about 13 weeks out. That really feels great, I have to say. Well - that is to say that I have always HATED running while I'm actually doing it, but it's the best way to lose weight I know of. I feel like it's the best bang for your buck, in terms of exercise. And it feels great that I can actually do it again. I'm only going for short runs at this point, only 2 miles at a time, and I feel like I'm going to die at the end of it, but I know I'm building the stamina to increase gradually. The best part has been running with my husband. A year ago I wondered if I'd EVER be able to do that again. My restriction continues to come and go, come and go. It really is the most bewildering thing. For instance, I recently went to Vegas with a friend, and I was scared to death that the 5 hour flight would leave me with a tighter-than-tight band when I arrived. I read that all the time on LBT, people saying that flying makes them tight as hell. The flight on the way out to Vegas had absolutely no discernible impact on my band whatsoever. My restriction was the same as it had been at home: tightest in the morning, so-so at lunch, and considerably looser in the evening. But, after I returned home - whammo! For the next week, I was as tight as I had been just after I got my one and only fill in July! Maybe it was a delayed reaction?? Who knows? But I've loosened up a little bit since then. Anyway, we're making our annual trek to the beach for a week in just under 4 days. I was hoping to be in the 220's by the time we took our beach vacation this year, and I'm happy to say that I made that goal. The only thing is, I still feel huge. None of my clothes fit, they are all too big, so I'm wearing the same two or three outfits over and over again. It is very frustrating trying to get dressed every morning, but I know it's a "high class" problem to have. But it's funny, 4 months ago, at 271, I was thinking how absolutely glorious it would be to be in the 220's at the beach this year, and how much more comfortable I'd surely be in my own skin. Yeaaaaah, not so much. I still cringe when I look at myself in a bathing suit, I still detest my flabby upper arms and my big belly. I know that I AM more comfortable now that I've been running and my legs have leaned out a lot and I can actually wear bermuda shorts in public and not feel like crying. But, I still long to be a girl in a tank top or a cute halter shirt or sundress when I'm at the beach, and sadly, I still won't be that girl this year. But, I guess the difference is that I know I'll EVENTUALLY get there, and that I can just keep looking forward to next year's beach vacation. The next big thing I'm looking forward to is going to the Christmas party at my husband's law firm this year and being, hopefully, at least 60 or 70 pounds lighter than I was last year, or the year before last. I'm REALLY looking forward to shopping for something youthful to wear, instead of the matronly formal clothes I've been consigned to for so many years. Dear God how I've longed to wear a 'little black dress' to these kinds of events for so many years. Now, granted, I know I won't be wearing a truly 'little' dress at 210 or so, but it will damn sure be littler than anything I've worn in the past. Can't wait to shop for that! This band frustrates me at times, when I'm looking forward to eating something delicious, and then simply can't eat it. Or when I'm really, really hungry, and take too big of a bite and get stuck.....and just end up really uncomfortable, unable to eat, and still hungry! And I'm constantly worried that I'll be found out - that a friend will put two and two together and come right out and ask me if I had weight loss surgery. I still feel desperate about keeping this a secret. AND, I'm starting to get just a little tired of having the few people who HAVE commented that they've noticed I've lost weight say, "Wow, I can really see it in your face and your shoulders!" I mean, come ON people, I have not lost 40 pounds from my double chins alone! I would really like for someone to say, "you know, your ASS really looks smaller!" That would be very gratifying. But for now I satisfy myself by noticing how much less space my ass seems to take up in my clothes each day. Patience, grasshopper, patience....I still stand by what I said in a previous post (or two), which is that I love this band and would have this surgery all over again in a h-e-a-r-t-b-e-a-t!

7/24 - 10 weeks out, 30.5 pounds down, from 271 to 240.5 Well, I'm truckin' along, and although it SEEMS slow to me, I just realized it actually hasn't been all that slow since I got my first fill. I just looked back at the calendar, and my fill was 2 weeks ago, on 7/10. On 7/10 I weighed 249, and I now weigh 240.5. So, that's a little less than 10 pounds in 2 weeks!! That's actually fantastic!! Wow, all of a sudden I'm counting how many weeks till we go to the beach for our summer vacation, and calculating potentially how far down I COULD be if this restriction holds out!!!!!!! I could be a svelte 210 pounds by then if I play my cards right! Ahhh!! Can't even let myself hope for that, because I don't want to end up feeling discouraged. I've been telling myself that I'd be happy if I could be somewhere in the 220's by September 6, which is the day we leave for the beach. Haven't seen the 220's in several years. Haven't seen 210 since I met my husband in 1999. Under 200 - haven't seen Onederland since I was in college in the early 90's!! The last time I was able to squeeze into a woman's size 12 was when I was in either 9th or 10th grade, and I was able to wear one specific pair of my mom's jeans. They were a size 12, and I have no idea why she had them, because she has always been a size 8 her entire life. But for whatever reason, she had these jeans that were a size 12, and I BARELY fit into them, but I could button and zip them, and that's all that mattered to me. It made me feel so good about myself for that brief period when I could wear them. Funny how you remember things like that. So, getting into a size 12 again someday is going to feel like a HUGE milestone for me. Anyway, so since I got this fill 2 weeks ago, I have noticed that I experience what many other bandsters have described on LBT - my restriction seems to fluctuate day by day, sometimes hour by hour. It's weird, there doesn't seem to really be any rhyme or reason to it? Some days I can eat breakfast and lunch, albeit carefully, but with no problems whatsoever. Some days I can hardly get yogurt to go down without a whole lot of gurgling and noise and burping (non-productive) and other fanfare. On most days, I've found that it's much easier to eat dinner than lunch, and breakfast, forget about it. By the time I get all my pills and vitamins down in the morning, I'm full and don't have any time left for breakfast anyway. That makes me feel guilty, because I know it's bad to skip breakfast, but I really can't help it. Sometimes I'll bring a yogurt along to work with me, and I can eat that at my desk, although it takes a while. Several times I've tried to eat lunch and ended up having to throw it away. I know that SOMETIMES it's because I take too big of a bite right off the bat and don't chew it enough, and then whatever it was gets stuck, and then I'm just done - can't put anything else on top of that bc that will just make it worse (learned THAT the hard way) so I just have to give up and wait till the next meal. But sometimes even if I'm following all the rules and being very conscious about it, even the smallest most chewed-to-liquid bite won't go down easily at lunch time. It's very strange! Every few days I find dinner is challenging as well, but most days dinner is easier than lunch. Mind you, I'm measuring my food intake in bites now, not cups. Lord, I never thought I'd say that. I'm amazed at how my sense of portions has changed. I still have food envy when I watch my husband take a gigantic bite out of some big juicy cheeseburger, or gobble down a bunch of crispy crunchy salad vegetables. (never thought I'd say THAT either! LOL) But when putting food onto my own plate I've gotten very, very good at taking the smallest possible servings of things. And then after I eat, I'm constantly worrying in my head that I've eaten too much, that I'm ABLE to eat too much, that I'll never lose any more weight if I eat this much, etc. And then I remind myself that I only ate, for instance, one tablespoon of mashed potatoes, or something like that. It's weird how your brain processes this phenomenon. Mostly what I've read on LBT is from people saying that they are still ordering the Extra Large Value size of everything, even though they can only eat a small fraction of it. With me it's been the opposite. I automatically order or plate-up the smallest portion, but then have some sort of dysmorphic thing happen where I panic I've eaten too much. I think part of the problem is that I never really feel hungry anymore - and I also never really feel full. That is to say, I never get the feeling of full that I got pre-band.....which was a sickening, oh-my-God-all-I-want-to-do-is-unbutton-my-pants-and-lay-on-the-couch sort of feeling. I regularly ate up until I felt that way at dinner time, almost every night. Not so much at lunch, because I had more distractions from food during that time of day, I guess. I wouldn't say that I MISS that awful stuffed to the gills feeling.....but maybe psychologically I miss having a full belly feeling?? I don't know. And I can't really say that I have ever really recognized true stomach hunger - certainly not pre-band, bc I ate all the time. And not so much post band either. I don't know, maybe I'm just not skilled enough to recognize the feeling yet? So, without being able to discern those specific feelings - hungry vs. full - I think I have a tendency to panic and to STILL think that this surgery is not going to work for me after all (present evidence disregarded) and that I'll end up sabotaging myself, despite my best efforts, as I have always done in the past. I know I've got to work on that. In my ideal world, I wouldn't have to think about, worry about, panic about, plan endlessly for, or obsess over food a-n-y-m-o-r-e. I dream of a day when I can just live my life - and eat whenever it's appropriate to do so to feed my body. Period. I think I'm on my way. I'm amazed to no longer be compelled to nightly binge sessions in front of the TV. I'm incredulous that leftover cookies or bbq chips from weekend cookouts will stay in my pantry, unmolested for weeks. Pre-band, these foods would have literally called out to me over and over again, every time I was in my house, until I either devoured them, or in a fit of fortitude stoicly dumped them down into the gargage disposal so that they couldn't torture me any more. Now, I FORGET that they are even in there. Now, that's not to say that I don't still have a weakness for junk food, and believe me, if it's in a basket somewhere at a party, I'm definitely going to eat some of it. But I don't feel like it has a power over me anymore. That is really quite remarkable. This band certainly requires it's share of sacrifices, but so far, I'd say I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat. Thirty pounds, no longer weighing me down, gone forever. Amen!

7/24 - 10 weeks out, 30.5 pounds down, from 271 to 240.5 Well, I'm truckin' along, and although it SEEMS slow to me, I just realized it actually hasn't been all that slow since I got my first fill. I just looked back at the calendar, and my fill was 2 weeks ago, on 7/10. On 7/10 I weighed 249, and I now weigh 240.5. So, that's a little less than 10 pounds in 2 weeks!! That's actually fantastic!! Wow, all of a sudden I'm counting how many weeks till we go to the beach for our summer vacation, and calculating potentially how far down I COULD be if this restriction holds out!!!!!!! I could be a svelte 210 pounds by then if I play my cards right! Ahhh!! Can't even let myself hope for that, because I don't want to end up feeling discouraged. I've been telling myself that I'd be happy if I could be somewhere in the 220's by September 6, which is the day we leave for the beach. Haven't seen the 220's in several years. Haven't seen 210 since I met my husband in 1999. Under 200 - haven't seen Onederland since I was in college in the early 90's!! The last time I was able to squeeze into a woman's size 12 was when I was in either 9th or 10th grade, and I was able to wear one specific pair of my mom's jeans. They were a size 12, and I have no idea why she had them, because she has always been a size 8 her entire life. But for whatever reason, she had these jeans that were a size 12, and I BARELY fit into them, but I could button and zip them, and that's all that mattered to me. It made me feel so good about myself for that brief period when I could wear them. Funny how you remember things like that. So, getting into a size 12 again someday is going to feel like a HUGE milestone for me. Anyway, so since I got this fill 2 weeks ago, I have noticed that I experience what many other bandsters have described on LBT - my restriction seems to fluctuate day by day, sometimes hour by hour. It's weird, there doesn't seem to really be any rhyme or reason to it? Some days I can eat breakfast and lunch, albeit carefully, but with no problems whatsoever. Some days I can hardly get yogurt to go down without a whole lot of gurgling and noise and burping (non-productive) and other fanfare. On most days, I've found that it's much easier to eat dinner than lunch, and breakfast, forget about it. By the time I get all my pills and vitamins down in the morning, I'm full and don't have any time left for breakfast anyway. That makes me feel guilty, because I know it's bad to skip breakfast, but I really can't help it. Sometimes I'll bring a yogurt along to work with me, and I can eat that at my desk, although it takes a while. Several times I've tried to eat lunch and ended up having to throw it away. I know that SOMETIMES it's because I take too big of a bite right off the bat and don't chew it enough, and then whatever it was gets stuck, and then I'm just done - can't put anything else on top of that bc that will just make it worse (learned THAT the hard way) so I just have to give up and wait till the next meal. But sometimes even if I'm following all the rules and being very conscious about it, even the smallest most chewed-to-liquid bite won't go down easily at lunch time. It's very strange! Every few days I find dinner is challenging as well, but most days dinner is easier than lunch. Mind you, I'm measuring my food intake in bites now, not cups. Lord, I never thought I'd say that. I'm amazed at how my sense of portions has changed. I still have food envy when I watch my husband take a gigantic bite out of some big juicy cheeseburger, or gobble down a bunch of crispy crunchy salad vegetables. (never thought I'd say THAT either! LOL) But when putting food onto my own plate I've gotten very, very good at taking the smallest possible servings of things. And then after I eat, I'm constantly worrying in my head that I've eaten too much, that I'm ABLE to eat too much, that I'll never lose any more weight if I eat this much, etc. And then I remind myself that I only ate, for instance, one tablespoon of mashed potatoes, or something like that. It's weird how your brain processes this phenomenon. Mostly what I've read on LBT is from people saying that they are still ordering the Extra Large Value size of everything, even though they can only eat a small fraction of it. With me it's been the opposite. I automatically order or plate-up the smallest portion, but then have some sort of dysmorphic thing happen where I panic I've eaten too much. I think part of the problem is that I never really feel hungry anymore - and I also never really feel full. That is to say, I never get the feeling of full that I got pre-band.....which was a sickening, oh-my-God-all-I-want-to-do-is-unbutton-my-pants-and-lay-on-the-couch sort of feeling. I regularly ate up until I felt that way at dinner time, almost every night. Not so much at lunch, because I had more distractions from food during that time of day, I guess. I wouldn't say that I MISS that awful stuffed to the gills feeling.....but maybe psychologically I miss having a full belly feeling?? I don't know. And I can't really say that I have ever really recognized true stomach hunger - certainly not pre-band, bc I ate all the time. And not so much post band either. I don't know, maybe I'm just not skilled enough to recognize the feeling yet? So, without being able to discern those specific feelings - hungry vs. full - I think I have a tendency to panic and to STILL think that this surgery is not going to work for me after all (present evidence disregarded) and that I'll end up sabotaging myself, despite my best efforts, as I have always done in the past. I know I've got to work on that. In my ideal world, I wouldn't have to think about, worry about, panic about, plan endlessly for, or obsess over food a-n-y-m-o-r-e. I dream of a day when I can just live my life - and eat whenever it's appropriate to do so to feed my body. Period. I think I'm on my way. I'm amazed to no longer be compelled to nightly binge sessions in front of the TV. I'm incredulous that leftover cookies or bbq chips from weekend cookouts will stay in my pantry, unmolested for weeks. Pre-band, these foods would have literally called out to me over and over again, every time I was in my house, until I either devoured them, or in a fit of fortitude stoicly dumped them down into the gargage disposal so that they couldn't torture me any more. Now, I FORGET that they are even in there. Now, that's not to say that I don't still have a weakness for junk food, and believe me, if it's in a basket somewhere at a party, I'm definitely going to eat some of it. But I don't feel like it has a power over me anymore. That is really quite remarkable. This band certainly requires it's share of sacrifices, but so far, I'd say I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat. Thirty pounds, no longer weighing me down, gone forever. Amen!

My doctor prescribed Zantac also, for 6 months after surgery. He says it prevents the occurrence of stomach ulcers. Not sure what happens after 6 months??

Almost 8 weeks out, down 26 pounds from 271 to 245 So I got my first fill last week, and I am REALLY tight. So much so that I've lost 5 pounds in 6 days! I am finding it extremely difficult to eat anything in the morning. I even feel stuck just trying to drink some water or juice in the morning; warm coffee seems to go down much more easily. I had a particularly bad day this last Saturday: so let me first say that of course I recognize that no one who is trying to lose weight has any business eating anything at McDonald's. However, every so often I allow myself to indulge, and Saturday morning was that occurrence. I was soooo excited about eating some of that sausage biscuit, let me tell you. I was going to be taking a quick road trip of about an hour on Saturday morning, and I figured with this great restriction it would practically take me an hour to eat about a quarter of that delicious biscuit. Well, I think I managed to eat a total of one normal sized bite, taken in teeny tiny little pieces which just REFUSED to go down. UGH! Never has a human being been so disappointed. I cursed the band, let me tell you! I wanted to eat that damn biscuit in the worst way! And, to showcase my food addiction even more - instead of throwing the blasted biscuit away when I reached my destination, like any sane person would.....I wrapped it up and saved it, thinking to myself, maybe I'll loosen up later today and I can still eat some of this later!! I tried, not once, but twice more throughout Saturday to eat some of that biscuit, and EVERY time I tried it was worse. Waaaahhhhhh!! I also had my first PB (productive burping) episode on Saturday. I now know that it was precipitated by the biscuit incident in the morning, but I wasn't smart enough to be worried about that when I sat down to lunch with my husband and some friends......I unrolled my chicken salad wrap and picked out a tiny forkful of tender shredded chicken. I chewed and chewed and chewed until it was liquid, and when I swallowed, at first I thought it was OK, but after a few seconds I got that awful pressure feeling in my chest. So I sat there and talked and waited for it to subside and eventually decided to take a bite of my fruit cup - one tiny cube of mushy peach, which I chewed up to nothing and then swallowed. I immediately got the stuck feeling, and my mouth started filling up with saliva. This has happened to me before many times, but somehow I realized, luckily, that this time was different. My husband's colleague was in the middle of asking me a question, and I literally jumped up from the table, completely cut him off mid-sentence, and was barely able to choke out 'please excuse me' before I was running to the ladies room. As soon as I got in there, up popped the peach, and lots and lots and lots of saliva. BLECH! I thought I would feel immediately better, but I didn't. I stayed in there a while trying to regain some composure. In previous episodes where I would get that stuck feeling, and would "slime" for a while, at a certain point I'd feel things settle down and go through, and I'd be fine and would actually want to resume eating. This time, however, there was no way I was going to try to eat anything else for a while. I had to be really careful even drinking water for the rest of the day. I finally had a very few morsels of dinner (a couple bites of mashed potatoes and a tiny piece of husband's soft and gooey chicken quesadilla) many hours later, around 8:30pm. They went down OK, but I was scared bc we were in public at a bar, and I did NOT want to have to race off to the bathroom again, so I didn't push it. Sunday morning there was very little change, I still felt extremely tight and had to be careful even swallowing my yogurt. But, by lunchtime I had loosened up and was able to eat half of a turkey sandwich with no problems. So, on Saturday I was feeling a little panicked, and thinking - maybe I'm too tight?? Maybe I should get a slight unfill? But, now, a couple of days later, I've realized that there's something to be said for being this tight - it absolutely forces me to take tiny bites, chew properly, not drink after eating......it basically forces me to be accountable at all times to the band. I think as long as I'm careful and don't PB all the time, maybe I'll just deal with it?? Because you know, of course I'm loving, loving, loving watching the scale drop each day! The only thing I'm worried about right now is how to explain my sudden bird-like portions to friends. This weekend when someone made a comment, I just said, "Oh, you know me! I'm just trying to lose some weight....AGAIN, ha ha ha..." I just wonder if someone is eventually going to catch on to my secret! I really, really, really hope not.

Almost 8 weeks out, down 26 pounds from 271 to 245 So I got my first fill last week, and I am REALLY tight. So much so that I've lost 5 pounds in 6 days! I am finding it extremely difficult to eat anything in the morning. I even feel stuck just trying to drink some water or juice in the morning; warm coffee seems to go down much more easily. I had a particularly bad day this last Saturday: so let me first say that of course I recognize that no one who is trying to lose weight has any business eating anything at McDonald's. However, every so often I allow myself to indulge, and Saturday morning was that occurrence. I was soooo excited about eating some of that sausage biscuit, let me tell you. I was going to be taking a quick road trip of about an hour on Saturday morning, and I figured with this great restriction it would practically take me an hour to eat about a quarter of that delicious biscuit. Well, I think I managed to eat a total of one normal sized bite, taken in teeny tiny little pieces which just REFUSED to go down. UGH! Never has a human being been so disappointed. I cursed the band, let me tell you! I wanted to eat that damn biscuit in the worst way! And, to showcase my food addiction even more - instead of throwing the blasted biscuit away when I reached my destination, like any sane person would.....I wrapped it up and saved it, thinking to myself, maybe I'll loosen up later today and I can still eat some of this later!! I tried, not once, but twice more throughout Saturday to eat some of that biscuit, and EVERY time I tried it was worse. Waaaahhhhhh!! I also had my first PB (productive burping) episode on Saturday. I now know that it was precipitated by the biscuit incident in the morning, but I wasn't smart enough to be worried about that when I sat down to lunch with my husband and some friends......I unrolled my chicken salad wrap and picked out a tiny forkful of tender shredded chicken. I chewed and chewed and chewed until it was liquid, and when I swallowed, at first I thought it was OK, but after a few seconds I got that awful pressure feeling in my chest. So I sat there and talked and waited for it to subside and eventually decided to take a bite of my fruit cup - one tiny cube of mushy peach, which I chewed up to nothing and then swallowed. I immediately got the stuck feeling, and my mouth started filling up with saliva. This has happened to me before many times, but somehow I realized, luckily, that this time was different. My husband's colleague was in the middle of asking me a question, and I literally jumped up from the table, completely cut him off mid-sentence, and was barely able to choke out 'please excuse me' before I was running to the ladies room. As soon as I got in there, up popped the peach, and lots and lots and lots of saliva. BLECH! I thought I would feel immediately better, but I didn't. I stayed in there a while trying to regain some composure. In previous episodes where I would get that stuck feeling, and would "slime" for a while, at a certain point I'd feel things settle down and go through, and I'd be fine and would actually want to resume eating. This time, however, there was no way I was going to try to eat anything else for a while. I had to be really careful even drinking water for the rest of the day. I finally had a very few morsels of dinner (a couple bites of mashed potatoes and a tiny piece of husband's soft and gooey chicken quesadilla) many hours later, around 8:30pm. They went down OK, but I was scared bc we were in public at a bar, and I did NOT want to have to race off to the bathroom again, so I didn't push it. Sunday morning there was very little change, I still felt extremely tight and had to be careful even swallowing my yogurt. But, by lunchtime I had loosened up and was able to eat half of a turkey sandwich with no problems. So, on Saturday I was feeling a little panicked, and thinking - maybe I'm too tight?? Maybe I should get a slight unfill? But, now, a couple of days later, I've realized that there's something to be said for being this tight - it absolutely forces me to take tiny bites, chew properly, not drink after eating......it basically forces me to be accountable at all times to the band. I think as long as I'm careful and don't PB all the time, maybe I'll just deal with it?? Because you know, of course I'm loving, loving, loving watching the scale drop each day! The only thing I'm worried about right now is how to explain my sudden bird-like portions to friends. This weekend when someone made a comment, I just said, "Oh, you know me! I'm just trying to lose some weight....AGAIN, ha ha ha..." I just wonder if someone is eventually going to catch on to my secret! I really, really, really hope not.

7/10/08 - almost 8 weeks since surgery, 249 - down 22 pounds from surgery weight of 271 It's been a while since I've posted anything here! I hit a plateau of about 2 weeks....it was characterized by my ability and propensity to eat considerably more than I have to date post-band, and the bouncing of the scale back and forth between the same 4 pounds, over and over and over and over again. Aarrgh! I knew it was time for a fill, but my doctor's office is so busy it's practically an act of God to get an appointment. I called the office when I was 3 weeks post op in order to schedule a fill for 6 weeks out (the earliest they will let you have a fill), and they told me the soonest they could get me in was around 8 weeks post op. Kind of frustrating, but I reminded myself that 2 weeks is not the end of the world, for pete's sake. So, I went in yesterday for my first fill. It was.....interesting! There was no pain involved. My doctor is one of those who sticks you with a little lidocaine or other such numbing agent, so that he can then poke around at will to find the port and not have to worry about causing you any pain. The first interesting thing was that the port was not where either he, or I, thought it was. He commented that he was surprised that it was so low, because on his patients, he normally finds the port to the upper right of the port incision. But, surprise! My port was several inches below and to the left. Bizarre, because mine definitely started out above the incision right where he thought it would be. I was obsessed with feeling it for the first few weeks, but then just kind of forgot about it. I hadn't felt for it in quite a while. I guess, somehow, it moved?? Strange. So, my doc was planning to give me 1 cc in my 4.5 cc band. He put the needle in, depressed the plunger all the way, and then pulled it back out again. Surprise, again! He pulled out almost 2cc of saline! And this is my first fill! He said, "are you sure you have the 4.55 cc band?" I just looked at him, as if to say, "you're asking ME, buddy?" And so he decided to go pull up my surgery record to make absolutely certain. He said that he almost always uses the smaller band on female patients, but he was confused because he only ever puts a fill in at surgery if he's working with a 10cc band. He said he wanted to be sure, because if I did have a 10cc band, he wanted to give me more than just the 1 cc for the first fill. So, sure enough it turns out I do indeed have the small 4.5 cc band, he confirmed it in my surgery records. He also remembered that when they put the band on in surgery, it was spinning more than it should have been. He wanted to make sure the band stayed put and wasn't spinning after they closed me up, so that the scar tissue could form properly. So, he decided to put a little bit of a fill in, in order to stablize it. So, that .8 of a cc was what allowed me to feel restricted for the better part of 6 weeks, and drop 20 pounds! I'll take it! (I'm a little bit irked that no one TOLD me this right after surgery, but oh well, what can I do about it now...) So, then I had to sit up with the needle sticking out of me and drink some water to make sure I wasn't too tight. What a bizarre thing: sitting on a doctor's exam table, needle and syringe sticking out of my belly, shirt up under my boobs with big flabby belly exposed, and drinking a dixie cup of water. He kept saying, "do you feel anything different?" and me: "um, yes, I think so?! Wait, no. It feels the same. Well, no maybe not, maybe it feels a little different???" I swear I couldn't tell the difference at first! Some people say they can feel things going from their pouch through the stoma, or they can feel it when their pouch completely empties, especially when drinking liquids. I couldn't feel a thing at that point. I had some broth for dinner and a couple of sugar free all fruit popsicles. I think my stomach and actual hunger were satisfied, but husband was eating a yummy italian pasta dish and leftover pizza, and I had a MAJOR case of food envy last night. Ah well, these sacrifices will all pay off down the road, won't they? Dare I quote - Nothing tastes as good as thin feels! Apologies. I usually want to smack anyone who says that to me! So, today I'm definitely feeling some restriction, even with still being on liquids. I was drinking a protein shake this morning and tried to drink it too quickly, and immediately got a stuck feeling. This is a good thing. For the last two weeks leading up to this fill I was eating waaaay too fast and taking waaay too big of bites, with no negative repercussions! I was definitely too loose. I'm just hoping this restriction sticks around for a while so I can get the scale moving again!!! But just in case, I've already booked my next fill, 6 weeks from now on August 20.

7/10/08 - almost 8 weeks since surgery, 249 - down 22 pounds from surgery weight of 271 It's been a while since I've posted anything here! I hit a plateau of about 2 weeks....it was characterized by my ability and propensity to eat considerably more than I have to date post-band, and the bouncing of the scale back and forth between the same 4 pounds, over and over and over and over again. Aarrgh! I knew it was time for a fill, but my doctor's office is so busy it's practically an act of God to get an appointment. I called the office when I was 3 weeks post op in order to schedule a fill for 6 weeks out (the earliest they will let you have a fill), and they told me the soonest they could get me in was around 8 weeks post op. Kind of frustrating, but I reminded myself that 2 weeks is not the end of the world, for pete's sake. So, I went in yesterday for my first fill. It was.....interesting! There was no pain involved. My doctor is one of those who sticks you with a little lidocaine or other such numbing agent, so that he can then poke around at will to find the port and not have to worry about causing you any pain. The first interesting thing was that the port was not where either he, or I, thought it was. He commented that he was surprised that it was so low, because on his patients, he normally finds the port to the upper right of the port incision. But, surprise! My port was several inches below and to the left. Bizarre, because mine definitely started out above the incision right where he thought it would be. I was obsessed with feeling it for the first few weeks, but then just kind of forgot about it. I hadn't felt for it in quite a while. I guess, somehow, it moved?? Strange. So, my doc was planning to give me 1 cc in my 4.5 cc band. He put the needle in, depressed the plunger all the way, and then pulled it back out again. Surprise, again! He pulled out almost 2cc of saline! And this is my first fill! He said, "are you sure you have the 4.55 cc band?" I just looked at him, as if to say, "you're asking ME, buddy?" And so he decided to go pull up my surgery record to make absolutely certain. He said that he almost always uses the smaller band on female patients, but he was confused because he only ever puts a fill in at surgery if he's working with a 10cc band. He said he wanted to be sure, because if I did have a 10cc band, he wanted to give me more than just the 1 cc for the first fill. So, sure enough it turns out I do indeed have the small 4.5 cc band, he confirmed it in my surgery records. He also remembered that when they put the band on in surgery, it was spinning more than it should have been. He wanted to make sure the band stayed put and wasn't spinning after they closed me up, so that the scar tissue could form properly. So, he decided to put a little bit of a fill in, in order to stablize it. So, that .8 of a cc was what allowed me to feel restricted for the better part of 6 weeks, and drop 20 pounds! I'll take it! (I'm a little bit irked that no one TOLD me this right after surgery, but oh well, what can I do about it now...) So, then I had to sit up with the needle sticking out of me and drink some water to make sure I wasn't too tight. What a bizarre thing: sitting on a doctor's exam table, needle and syringe sticking out of my belly, shirt up under my boobs with big flabby belly exposed, and drinking a dixie cup of water. He kept saying, "do you feel anything different?" and me: "um, yes, I think so?! Wait, no. It feels the same. Well, no maybe not, maybe it feels a little different???" I swear I couldn't tell the difference at first! Some people say they can feel things going from their pouch through the stoma, or they can feel it when their pouch completely empties, especially when drinking liquids. I couldn't feel a thing at that point. I had some broth for dinner and a couple of sugar free all fruit popsicles. I think my stomach and actual hunger were satisfied, but husband was eating a yummy italian pasta dish and leftover pizza, and I had a MAJOR case of food envy last night. Ah well, these sacrifices will all pay off down the road, won't they? Dare I quote - Nothing tastes as good as thin feels! Apologies. I usually want to smack anyone who says that to me! So, today I'm definitely feeling some restriction, even with still being on liquids. I was drinking a protein shake this morning and tried to drink it too quickly, and immediately got a stuck feeling. This is a good thing. For the last two weeks leading up to this fill I was eating waaaay too fast and taking waaay too big of bites, with no negative repercussions! I was definitely too loose. I'm just hoping this restriction sticks around for a while so I can get the scale moving again!!! But just in case, I've already booked my next fill, 6 weeks from now on August 20.

Still happening to me too, after clearing cache and cookies and the whole 9 yards. Extremely frustrating!!!

5 and 1/2 weeks out, 21 pounds lost, weight 250 Well, I think I've finally hit a plateau. I've been dancing up and down the scale by 1 or 2 pounds since last week. I feel like I can eat more now than I could a couple of weeks ago. I can also tell that I don't have to be as careful about chewing really well and taking small bites anymore. I haven't had any 'stuck' sensations since early last week. This is not good! Get thee to a fill doctor! One of the drawbacks about going to a highly reputable, highly acclaimed, and highly recommended doctor is that it is next to impossible to get an appointment with him. I called in May to make my 4 week post op appointment, which should have been on 6/16, and was told they had no openings until July, making me 8 weeks post op. I then asked if I could get an appointment for a fill at 6 weeks out, and 8 weeks out is the earliest they can squeeze me in. I want to go NOW! I'm addicted to seeing the scale go down! I went shopping this past weekend and bought a few things - I'm in desperate need of work pants, bc all of mine are falling off of me now. I was a size 24 pre-surgery - I tried on several pairs of pants and capris in size 20 this weekend, and was amazed that they fit already. Trying on smaller clothes is wonderfully encouraging - even at 251 pounds and a size 20, which is where some bandsters START their journey! My face looks a lot thinner too, that's where I always lose it first. No one has commented on my 21 pound loss yet though, except my fabulous husband. Sadly, I suspect this means that I was so huge, it will probably take another 20 or 30 pounds coming off for anyone to notice anything different about me! I think that's all part of that phenomenon where you become invisible to people when you are fat.. For what it's worth, I have been feeling pretty good about myself lately. I've been using my inner voice to congratulate myself for making good food choices, and trying to give myself inner encouragement whenever possible. I'm still working on banishing the evil negative inner voice that tells me I'm destined to fail at this too. I know that voice is just scared of change, and is decidedly wrong. I will succeed! In the midst of all this jubilance, however, a little barb to bring me back down to reality: my neices and nephews were visiting this weekend, and as I was bending over helping my 4 year old neice put on her PJ's, she eyed my ample midsection and asked, "Do you have a baby in your belly?" Ouch. That question stung in many ways. Firstly, of course, that is the fat woman's most dreaded question, or more often, most feared assumption. Humiliating in any circumstance. The first time it happened to me I was about 16 years old, working at my first job - a salesgirl at a local department store. I had come to work clad in a brand new Laura Ashley dress. Does anyone remember the style of Laura Ashley clothing back in the 80's? Think shapeless plaid, flowered, or striped cotton dresses, with no waist definition whatsoever, with prim starched white collars and mother-of-pearl buttons. They were all the rage in 1986, and all of the girls at school were wearing them. I was probably about a size 14, almost 16 at that time, so not monstrously obese by any stretch. But the thing about those dresses is that they went straight out and down, in pleats, from your boobs to the floor. And on me, instead of going straight to the floor, the pleats sort of rested on my ever protruding belly. So, anyway, picture me bouncing into work thinking how cute I am in my fashionable Laura Ashley dress. Then, as soon as I stepped out onto the sales floor, a catty, bratty, nasty teenaged co-worker immediately brayed in a super loud voice so that everyone in 3 surrounding departments overheard, "Oh my goodness!! Kristin, I didn't even know that you were pregnant!! When are you DUE??!!" The thing is, she KNEW that I wasn't pregnant, she was only being cruel and trying to embarrass me. Unfortunately, as we all know, kids can be very, very cruel. I was shocked into silence at first, then turned beet red and stammered a timorous refute, "I'm not pregnant...............", becoming increasingly more mortified as I realized that even though I couldn't bring MYSELF to finish that phrase out loud....EVERYONE else was thinking it in their heads: "................I'm just fat." Ugh. That goes down as one of the most awful and simultaneously life defining moments of my high school career. So, my neice's question this weekend obviously paled in comparison to that. I'm older and wiser now and have a much thicker skin (and sadly, much larger waistline). But, her question was double barbed for me, because my husband and I have struggled with infertility for almost 4 years now. So, when she asked me if there was a baby in my belly, my first thought was of course, shame about my weight, But then, a flood of bitterness as I thought about just how very much I've wished and hoped and prayed that there WERE in fact, a baby in my belly. Siiiiigggghhh..... But, improving my fertility was one of the most motivating factors for me in deciding to have this surgery. I know that every pound I lose lessens the hold that PCOS has on my poor ovaries. The further the scale goes down, the higher the chances climb that someday, I might know what's it like to proudly flaunt a growing belly, instead of trying to hide it in shame.

5 and 1/2 weeks out, 21 pounds lost, weight 250 Well, I think I've finally hit a plateau. I've been dancing up and down the scale by 1 or 2 pounds since last week. I feel like I can eat more now than I could a couple of weeks ago. I can also tell that I don't have to be as careful about chewing really well and taking small bites anymore. I haven't had any 'stuck' sensations since early last week. This is not good! Get thee to a fill doctor! One of the drawbacks about going to a highly reputable, highly acclaimed, and highly recommended doctor is that it is next to impossible to get an appointment with him. I called in May to make my 4 week post op appointment, which should have been on 6/16, and was told they had no openings until July, making me 8 weeks post op. I then asked if I could get an appointment for a fill at 6 weeks out, and 8 weeks out is the earliest they can squeeze me in. I want to go NOW! I'm addicted to seeing the scale go down! I went shopping this past weekend and bought a few things - I'm in desperate need of work pants, bc all of mine are falling off of me now. I was a size 24 pre-surgery - I tried on several pairs of pants and capris in size 20 this weekend, and was amazed that they fit already. Trying on smaller clothes is wonderfully encouraging - even at 251 pounds and a size 20, which is where some bandsters START their journey! My face looks a lot thinner too, that's where I always lose it first. No one has commented on my 21 pound loss yet though, except my fabulous husband. Sadly, I suspect this means that I was so huge, it will probably take another 20 or 30 pounds coming off for anyone to notice anything different about me! I think that's all part of that phenomenon where you become invisible to people when you are fat.. For what it's worth, I have been feeling pretty good about myself lately. I've been using my inner voice to congratulate myself for making good food choices, and trying to give myself inner encouragement whenever possible. I'm still working on banishing the evil negative inner voice that tells me I'm destined to fail at this too. I know that voice is just scared of change, and is decidedly wrong. I will succeed! In the midst of all this jubilance, however, a little barb to bring me back down to reality: my neices and nephews were visiting this weekend, and as I was bending over helping my 4 year old neice put on her PJ's, she eyed my ample midsection and asked, "Do you have a baby in your belly?" Ouch. That question stung in many ways. Firstly, of course, that is the fat woman's most dreaded question, or more often, most feared assumption. Humiliating in any circumstance. The first time it happened to me I was about 16 years old, working at my first job - a salesgirl at a local department store. I had come to work clad in a brand new Laura Ashley dress. Does anyone remember the style of Laura Ashley clothing back in the 80's? Think shapeless plaid, flowered, or striped cotton dresses, with no waist definition whatsoever, with prim starched white collars and mother-of-pearl buttons. They were all the rage in 1986, and all of the girls at school were wearing them. I was probably about a size 14, almost 16 at that time, so not monstrously obese by any stretch. But the thing about those dresses is that they went straight out and down, in pleats, from your boobs to the floor. And on me, instead of going straight to the floor, the pleats sort of rested on my ever protruding belly. So, anyway, picture me bouncing into work thinking how cute I am in my fashionable Laura Ashley dress. Then, as soon as I stepped out onto the sales floor, a catty, bratty, nasty teenaged co-worker immediately brayed in a super loud voice so that everyone in 3 surrounding departments overheard, "Oh my goodness!! Kristin, I didn't even know that you were pregnant!! When are you DUE??!!" The thing is, she KNEW that I wasn't pregnant, she was only being cruel and trying to embarrass me. Unfortunately, as we all know, kids can be very, very cruel. I was shocked into silence at first, then turned beet red and stammered a timorous refute, "I'm not pregnant...............", becoming increasingly more mortified as I realized that even though I couldn't bring MYSELF to finish that phrase out loud....EVERYONE else was thinking it in their heads: "................I'm just fat." Ugh. That goes down as one of the most awful and simultaneously life defining moments of my high school career. So, my neice's question this weekend obviously paled in comparison to that. I'm older and wiser now and have a much thicker skin (and sadly, much larger waistline). But, her question was double barbed for me, because my husband and I have struggled with infertility for almost 4 years now. So, when she asked me if there was a baby in my belly, my first thought was of course, shame about my weight, But then, a flood of bitterness as I thought about just how very much I've wished and hoped and prayed that there WERE in fact, a baby in my belly. Siiiiigggghhh..... But, improving my fertility was one of the most motivating factors for me in deciding to have this surgery. I know that every pound I lose lessens the hold that PCOS has on my poor ovaries. The further the scale goes down, the higher the chances climb that someday, I might know what's it like to proudly flaunt a growing belly, instead of trying to hide it in shame.

I complained about exactly the same situation when I went in for my first post-op appointment at 2.5 weeks out. My surgeon said exactly what others have said - at 1,000-ish calories per day, my body was in starvation mode, and hanging onto every calorie, being extremely efficient. He said, if you REALLY want to lose weight, keep your caloric intake at FOUR HUNDRED CALORIES PER DAY, all Protein, and the pounds will fall off. He said that your body can no longer be "tricked" at that rate of calories going in. I just laughed at him - I have very little restriction! I'm a food addict! Do you think I would weigh 250-something pounds if I could maintain a 400 calorie per day diet??? Ugh. Instead I cut out simple carbs and have been losing about a pound a week since. Haven't gotten my fat ass off the couch to start exercising yet, but I KNOW that would help a lot too..... Good luck to you!

I am almost 4 weeks out and feel the same way. It's so sad that I miss such unhealthy habits! Well, the chowing down on large bites and large amounts of food part, anyway. I live in VA and we had 100+ temperatures over the weekend - I was so jealous watching my husband gulp down half a bottle of ice cold Water in 10 seconds! I don't have to SIP, necessarily, but I do have to go much slower than I did in the past. And watching my normal-weight husband chowing on a big plate of delicious food makes me feel sad that I can't load up that way anymore. It's really ridiculous and embarrassing to admit, but it depresses me that I'll never be able to overeat that way again. For whatever reason, there's something satisfying to me about piling up a big plate of yummy food and shoveling it in. Obviously, that's why I weighed 271 pounds on the day of my surgery. I would bet any amount of money that if I asked that question of any of my naturally "skinny" friends, not one would agree. My naturally skinny mother has the constant mindset of not wanting to put too much food on her plate (or in her body). When she looks at food, she thinks, I'll never be able to eat all of that, I should cut that in half, I should take a smaller serving. Whereas, all of my life, I've had a compulsion to pile up a lot of food, worrying to myself that whatever it is will never be enough to fill me up. I would say it's almost an obsession. I've often wondered over the the years if this is a genetic or brain chemical issue. Certainly my mother always tried to help me and teach me to think like her, but my compulsion to eat overrode everything. I'm still amazed that this band is helping me to get into that frame of mind - the-I'll-never-be-able-to-eat-all-of-that mindset. I'm so grateful for that, and so hopeful, here at the beginning of my journey, that this will be life-changing for me.

6-8-08, 257, 14 pounds lost I thought I'd record some thoughts about a typical, fun-filled summer weekend's worth of activities in my life and how they have changed (or not) post-band. My husband and I are extremely social creatures, and in the summer time we are constantly entertaining, hosting parties, etc. This weekend was typical for us: we planned a gathering for 30 or so friends at a local bar to celebrate my husband's birthday on Friday, and on Saturday we co-hosted a huge going-away party for a close friend. We had 5 overnight guests and one guest dog staying in our house to attend all the festivities this weekend. So, hmmmmmmm, how has the band changed how I normally would have behaved in such situations? Well, on Thursday I went to the grocery store to lay in a supply of what I call "hospitality foods". I'm a southern girl, and we're all about hospitality, and I think when you have overnight guests you ought to be prepared to feed them something, even if most of your meals are going to be out somewhere. So I always make sure I have lots of snacky things to put out in little bowls, in case people are arriving from road trips at various times and are hungry, etc. I got nuts, fruit, cheese and crackers, some dark chocolate m&m's, tons of bottled water, flavored and unflavored, and lots of stuff to make a big protein filled breakfast on Saturday morning. I bought all the things that I normally would have gotten. The difference is that I wasn't "excited" to put them all out so that I myself could begin to eat them with all abandon! The fact is that I'm sure this is just a license to eat with no guilt that my stomach has tricked my brain into issuing whenever there is company in town! It was really nice to feel freedom from this. I still reached my hand into the bowl with the nuts a few times over the weekend, but I didn't partake every time I walked through the kitchen as I normally would have. On Friday night at the bar, I normally would have abstained from all food until the end of the night, when all the cocktails had gone to my head, at which point I would have devoured half of the mini burgers and chicken wings my husband ordered at 1am. OR, when the whole gang went to the 24 hour diner at 2:30am on the way home from the bar (lest you should worry, my sister-in-law was the designated driver after this drink-fest) I normally would have ordered eggs with cheese, sausage, hashbrowns, maybe a side of grits, a biscuit or some toast with strawberry jam - you get the idea, the whole 3-egg heart-attack-on-a-plate special. And I would have eaten probably 3/4 of that. Plus an enormous diet coke to wash it all down. However this Friday, I ordered a grilled chicken breast and 2 scrambled eggs with cheese. I ate about 4 bites of the chicken and about 3 bites of the eggs.......and, I was done. I wouldn't necessarily say that I felt really decidedly full. I felt like I COULD have eaten more, but I didn't feel COMPELLED to keep eating and eating the way I always felt before. I felt more in control. Now, I don't know if this is real freedom? I really can't tell yet if this is just the normal I'm-doing-really-well-on-this-diet honeymoon feeling that I've had so many times before, which always drops out after a month or two at the most? Perhaps I've just tricked myself into believing that I don't have the compulsion to eat and eat and eat the way I used to? I mean, I'm DELIGHTED that I feel this way, and don't feel so powerless in front of plate of yummy food like before.........but I still don't trust that this sense of control that I have is real. I don't know if that makes sense, but that's the best way I can articulate it right now. On Saturday at the going-away bash for our friend, there was a TON of yummy food that I was really looking forward to. Tons of chips and dips, cheeseburgers, hot dogs, bratwursts, and chicken from the grill, homemade coleslaw, baked beans, mac and cheese, and potato salad, freshly baked brownies, a huge sheet cake with buttercream icing, etc.,etc. My old MO would probably have been to put together a plate with a cheeseburger on a bun, a bunless hot dog, a piece of chicken, and some of aaaaallll the side dishes. Then I probably would have eaten a couple of brownies on my past the food table at a later point in the evening. Then I would have had at least one piece of cake, and probably finished my husband's piece too. And every time I passed the food table I would have gotten a handful of chips. Every time I passed the table. Every.time. Post band, my plate consisted of a bunless cheeseburger, a spoonful of coleslaw, a spoonful of mac and cheese, and a spoonful of potato salad. I actually ate about a third of the cheeseburger, two bites of coleslaw, and one bite each of the beans and mac and cheese. I gave the rest to my husband. And I didn't feel deprived at all. I also didn't feel guilty for eating carbs. I thought I might have a brownie later, but I never got around to it. I actually FORGOT about wanting to eat a brownie. Unheard of. I did eventually cut a serving of cake into fourths, and ate about 3 bites of it. It was scrumptiously delicious, and I began to feel a little out of control.....so, I threw the rest away. The rest of the night I was drinking water like it was going out of style. Well.....I shouldn't make myself sound TOO virtuous, as I WAS the designated driver, and it was about 103 degrees in the shade. But the point is that for once, my every move at this party was not dictated by making a pass by the food table and trying not to look like a pig while scarfing up the food that was constantly calling my name! In the past I have felt in those situations like I couldn't stop thinking about the food that I wanted to eat long enough to enjoy the party to the full extent. I can recall in recent memory being irritated that my husband (who can eat like no one's business, and who never gains weight) wasn't going back to the food table for seconds quickly enough. Being so overweight, I always felt like I shouldn't ever act enthusiastic about eating in front of other people. Does that make sense? I've always been envious of thin people who enjoy eating, and can openly express great enthusiasm for piling their plate high, who can openly share how much they are looking forward to tasting the cake or sinking their teeth into the ribs. As a fat person, I would NEVER want anyone to know how much I love food, because of course I would be embarrassed having anyone look at me and think -well, no wonder she's fat! But of course that's so silly, because everyone with eyes in their head can see that I'm fat. They know I haven't gotten that way by eating broccoli and cauliflower. But still I never want to go to the food table without my husband, I would never rush up to the buffet to be the first one to dig in, I would never ever go back for seconds unless my husband or someone else went first, I always refuse the offer of taking some leftovers to go at the end of the party.......... So these thoughts of how to get the food that I want as surreptitiously as possible, drawing the least possible amount of attention, would consume me. This Saturday I felt liberated from that. I felt a palpable sense of 'sheeew, thank goodness I don't have to worry about that tonight' kind of feeling. I made a plate, I ate some of each thing I was looking forward to.....and that was that. I didn't obsess and worry that I didn't get enough food, or that I really wanted 2 burgers but was too embarrassed to take them, etc., etc. ad nauseum, ad infinitum. So, I'm counting these feelings as non-scale victories. I just hope this isn't diet-honeymoon fallacy. I hope I don't wake up tomorrow and realize that I don't have as much restriction and or WILLPOWER as I THINK I do. We shall see. So far, with this band, so good.

6/5/08 - 258.5, 12.5 pounds lost Well, it's been 3 weeks as of today. I'm down 12.5 pounds. I've lost one dress size, and it is quite a boost to dig things out of my closet that I haven't worn in a while. I'm so relieved to finally be eating regular food again - my biggest anxiety over the last 4 weeks has been trying to 'hide' the special diet I was on. The only people that know I had the surgery done are my incredible supportive husband and mother, and my two best friends. I told everyone else that I had a terrible stomach bug the weekend that I had the surgery done, and that I was just being 'careful with my stomach' afterwards. But, I know that several friends are very suspicious, as I had to eat pureed food in front of each of them at separate times. I'm just hoping they aren't bold enough to come right out and voice their suspicions to me. If they were direct about it, I wouldn't be able to lie, I'm just no good at it! And for whatever reason at this stage of the game, I just feel like this is my own personal, private business. I suppose I'm afraid of being judged in any way....I hate the thought of people always watching every morsel I'm eating and/or making comments about what I should or shouldn't be eating vis-a-vis the band, or how much I should or shouldn't have lost by any given amount of time. I just feel like that's a whole set of frustrations that I'd like to spare myself, at least for now. Who knows, if I'm very successful I may decide to appoint myself an outspoken spokeswoman for the lap band - but that would be much, much further down the road. I think mostly I'm afraid of failing at this, and then having everyone know that not only am I a failure at diets, I'm a failure at weight loss surgery too. I just couldn't take that. So, for now at leaast, I'm trying to be very secretive. That is SO difficult for me, because I'm an open book by nature, and I HATE lying. Anyway, other than that, I'm trying to break my obsession with the scale. Or at least, I'm trying not to let the scale's reading each morning dictate my emotional state. I think I'll always be the kind of person that weighs every morning, because in many ways I think it keeps me accountable and is a safeguard against major backslides. Usually, when I 'go off' of any given diet, my scale collects dust. As I'm eating whatever I want, I have no desire to see the numbers go up every day. But if I'm being 'good', then I have to see what it says every day, in some ways to reassure myself that what I'm doing is making a difference. I think what I've got to work on now is untying my emotions from the numbers - I need to be able to tell myself that if the scale goes up by a pound or two on any given day, it's OK, and it isn't the end of the world. The week that I started on pureed food, after being on liquids for 2 weeks, the scale immediately jumped up by about 6 pounds. I freaked out, and had all these thoughts running through my head telling me that I was a failure at this already, that it wasn't going to work, that I might as well give up hope.....all that negative self talk. But, what happened was that I got my period, and most of that was water weight, and in 4 days, all 6 pounds came off again. So then of course my head was full of positive self talk - I'm doing it, I'm going to be successful, this is working, etc. I recognize that I've got to disengage my feelings of self worth or accomplishment from the number on the scale in the morning. I'm hoping that will get easier the further along I get in this journey.

6-8-08, 257, 14 pounds lost I thought I'd record some thoughts about a typical, fun-filled summer weekend's worth of activities in my life and how they have changed (or not) post-band. My husband and I are extremely social creatures, and in the summer time we are constantly entertaining, hosting parties, etc. This weekend was typical for us: we planned a gathering for 30 or so friends at a local bar to celebrate my husband's birthday on Friday, and on Saturday we co-hosted a huge going-away party for a close friend. We had 5 overnight guests and one guest dog staying in our house to attend all the festivities this weekend. So, hmmmmmmm, how has the band changed how I normally would have behaved in such situations? Well, on Thursday I went to the grocery store to lay in a supply of what I call "hospitality foods". I'm a southern girl, and we're all about hospitality, and I think when you have overnight guests you ought to be prepared to feed them something, even if most of your meals are going to be out somewhere. So I always make sure I have lots of snacky things to put out in little bowls, in case people are arriving from road trips at various times and are hungry, etc. I got nuts, fruit, cheese and crackers, some dark chocolate m&m's, tons of bottled water, flavored and unflavored, and lots of stuff to make a big protein filled breakfast on Saturday morning. I bought all the things that I normally would have gotten. The difference is that I wasn't "excited" to put them all out so that I myself could begin to eat them with all abandon! The fact is that I'm sure this is just a license to eat with no guilt that my stomach has tricked my brain into issuing whenever there is company in town! It was really nice to feel freedom from this. I still reached my hand into the bowl with the nuts a few times over the weekend, but I didn't partake every time I walked through the kitchen as I normally would have. On Friday night at the bar, I normally would have abstained from all food until the end of the night, when all the cocktails had gone to my head, at which point I would have devoured half of the mini burgers and chicken wings my husband ordered at 1am. OR, when the whole gang went to the 24 hour diner at 2:30am on the way home from the bar (lest you should worry, my sister-in-law was the designated driver after this drink-fest) I normally would have ordered eggs with cheese, sausage, hashbrowns, maybe a side of grits, a biscuit or some toast with strawberry jam - you get the idea, the whole 3-egg heart-attack-on-a-plate special. And I would have eaten probably 3/4 of that. Plus an enormous diet coke to wash it all down. However this Friday, I ordered a grilled chicken breast and 2 scrambled eggs with cheese. I ate about 4 bites of the chicken and about 3 bites of the eggs.......and, I was done. I wouldn't necessarily say that I felt really decidedly full. I felt like I COULD have eaten more, but I didn't feel COMPELLED to keep eating and eating the way I always felt before. I felt more in control. Now, I don't know if this is real freedom? I really can't tell yet if this is just the normal I'm-doing-really-well-on-this-diet honeymoon feeling that I've had so many times before, which always drops out after a month or two at the most? Perhaps I've just tricked myself into believing that I don't have the compulsion to eat and eat and eat the way I used to? I mean, I'm DELIGHTED that I feel this way, and don't feel so powerless in front of plate of yummy food like before.........but I still don't trust that this sense of control that I have is real. I don't know if that makes sense, but that's the best way I can articulate it right now. On Saturday at the going-away bash for our friend, there was a TON of yummy food that I was really looking forward to. Tons of chips and dips, cheeseburgers, hot dogs, bratwursts, and chicken from the grill, homemade coleslaw, baked beans, mac and cheese, and potato salad, freshly baked brownies, a huge sheet cake with buttercream icing, etc.,etc. My old MO would probably have been to put together a plate with a cheeseburger on a bun, a bunless hot dog, a piece of chicken, and some of aaaaallll the side dishes. Then I probably would have eaten a couple of brownies on my past the food table at a later point in the evening. Then I would have had at least one piece of cake, and probably finished my husband's piece too. And every time I passed the food table I would have gotten a handful of chips. Every time I passed the table. Every.time. Post band, my plate consisted of a bunless cheeseburger, a spoonful of coleslaw, a spoonful of mac and cheese, and a spoonful of potato salad. I actually ate about a third of the cheeseburger, two bites of coleslaw, and one bite each of the beans and mac and cheese. I gave the rest to my husband. And I didn't feel deprived at all. I also didn't feel guilty for eating carbs. I thought I might have a brownie later, but I never got around to it. I actually FORGOT about wanting to eat a brownie. Unheard of. I did eventually cut a serving of cake into fourths, and ate about 3 bites of it. It was scrumptiously delicious, and I began to feel a little out of control.....so, I threw the rest away. The rest of the night I was drinking water like it was going out of style. Well.....I shouldn't make myself sound TOO virtuous, as I WAS the designated driver, and it was about 103 degrees in the shade. But the point is that for once, my every move at this party was not dictated by making a pass by the food table and trying not to look like a pig while scarfing up the food that was constantly calling my name! In the past I have felt in those situations like I couldn't stop thinking about the food that I wanted to eat long enough to enjoy the party to the full extent. I can recall in recent memory being irritated that my husband (who can eat like no one's business, and who never gains weight) wasn't going back to the food table for seconds quickly enough. Being so overweight, I always felt like I shouldn't ever act enthusiastic about eating in front of other people. Does that make sense? I've always been envious of thin people who enjoy eating, and can openly express great enthusiasm for piling their plate high, who can openly share how much they are looking forward to tasting the cake or sinking their teeth into the ribs. As a fat person, I would NEVER want anyone to know how much I love food, because of course I would be embarrassed having anyone look at me and think -well, no wonder she's fat! But of course that's so silly, because everyone with eyes in their head can see that I'm fat. They know I haven't gotten that way by eating broccoli and cauliflower. But still I never want to go to the food table without my husband, I would never rush up to the buffet to be the first one to dig in, I would never ever go back for seconds unless my husband or someone else went first, I always refuse the offer of taking some leftovers to go at the end of the party.......... So these thoughts of how to get the food that I want as surreptitiously as possible, drawing the least possible amount of attention, would consume me. This Saturday I felt liberated from that. I felt a palpable sense of 'sheeew, thank goodness I don't have to worry about that tonight' kind of feeling. I made a plate, I ate some of each thing I was looking forward to.....and that was that. I didn't obsess and worry that I didn't get enough food, or that I really wanted 2 burgers but was too embarrassed to take them, etc., etc. ad nauseum, ad infinitum. So, I'm counting these feelings as non-scale victories. I just hope this isn't diet-honeymoon fallacy. I hope I don't wake up tomorrow and realize that I don't have as much restriction and or WILLPOWER as I THINK I do. We shall see. So far, with this band, so good.

6/5/08 - 258.5, 12.5 pounds lost Well, it's been 3 weeks as of today. I'm down 12.5 pounds. I've lost one dress size, and it is quite a boost to dig things out of my closet that I haven't worn in a while. I'm so relieved to finally be eating regular food again - my biggest anxiety over the last 4 weeks has been trying to 'hide' the special diet I was on. The only people that know I had the surgery done are my incredible supportive husband and mother, and my two best friends. I told everyone else that I had a terrible stomach bug the weekend that I had the surgery done, and that I was just being 'careful with my stomach' afterwards. But, I know that several friends are very suspicious, as I had to eat pureed food in front of each of them at separate times. I'm just hoping they aren't bold enough to come right out and voice their suspicions to me. If they were direct about it, I wouldn't be able to lie, I'm just no good at it! And for whatever reason at this stage of the game, I just feel like this is my own personal, private business. I suppose I'm afraid of being judged in any way....I hate the thought of people always watching every morsel I'm eating and/or making comments about what I should or shouldn't be eating vis-a-vis the band, or how much I should or shouldn't have lost by any given amount of time. I just feel like that's a whole set of frustrations that I'd like to spare myself, at least for now. Who knows, if I'm very successful I may decide to appoint myself an outspoken spokeswoman for the lap band - but that would be much, much further down the road. I think mostly I'm afraid of failing at this, and then having everyone know that not only am I a failure at diets, I'm a failure at weight loss surgery too. I just couldn't take that. So, for now at leaast, I'm trying to be very secretive. That is SO difficult for me, because I'm an open book by nature, and I HATE lying. Anyway, other than that, I'm trying to break my obsession with the scale. Or at least, I'm trying not to let the scale's reading each morning dictate my emotional state. I think I'll always be the kind of person that weighs every morning, because in many ways I think it keeps me accountable and is a safeguard against major backslides. Usually, when I 'go off' of any given diet, my scale collects dust. As I'm eating whatever I want, I have no desire to see the numbers go up every day. But if I'm being 'good', then I have to see what it says every day, in some ways to reassure myself that what I'm doing is making a difference. I think what I've got to work on now is untying my emotions from the numbers - I need to be able to tell myself that if the scale goes up by a pound or two on any given day, it's OK, and it isn't the end of the world. The week that I started on pureed food, after being on liquids for 2 weeks, the scale immediately jumped up by about 6 pounds. I freaked out, and had all these thoughts running through my head telling me that I was a failure at this already, that it wasn't going to work, that I might as well give up hope.....all that negative self talk. But, what happened was that I got my period, and most of that was water weight, and in 4 days, all 6 pounds came off again. So then of course my head was full of positive self talk - I'm doing it, I'm going to be successful, this is working, etc. I recognize that I've got to disengage my feelings of self worth or accomplishment from the number on the scale in the morning. I'm hoping that will get easier the further along I get in this journey.

4 total: 3 which were re-used from my gallbladder surgery from last year, and 1 port incision.

I was banded on Thursday, 5/15. I arrived at the hospital at 6:30am for my 8am surgery. After signing in, a nurse came and walked me and my mom back to the 'holding area'. Along they way we stopped and the nurse weighed me, then walked me back to my little cubicle made of curtains. She explained that I was to take these cloths that were in plastic packages and open them and 'wash' my entire body with them. I guess it was some sort of anti-septic wash or something. The cloths were warm, but it sort of gave me the creeps, and my skin felt slightly itchy all over afterwards. So I donned my lovely hospital gown and stylish socks with the rubber treads on the bottom, and hopped up on the gurney to wait. The anesthesiologist came in and asked me a bunch of verification questions while the nurse started my IV. Then my surgeon came in and talked to my mom and me about the procedure, and gave my mom a stack of prescriptions and post-op instructions. My mom and I sat and chatted for about an hour, and then around 7:30 they came to wheel me into the OR. My mom was given a pager, which they said they would use to contact her when my surgery was over, and they said that my surgeon would come out to the waiting area afterwards to tell her how it went. I kissed my mom and tried not to cry, even though I was REALLY nervous, but I knew if I cried, my sweet mom would start crying too. They put some sort of cocktail into my IV as they were wheeling me out of the cubicle, and I didn't feel it at first. I commented to the nurse that I wasn't sure they had given me enough of whatever it was, because I didn't feel anything yet. She said, "don't worry my dear, you'll start to feel it when you are about halfway down the hallway." Sure enough, I did, and I only have the vaguest recollection of seeing the inside of the operating room before I was out. The next thing I knew, I woke up listening to this awful moaning and crying, and slowly I realized that it was me! I was in terrible pain at first, but as soon as I started to come around the nurse came over to tell me I was in recovery and everything had gone well. She asked if I was in pain, and I said YES! She asked me on a scale of 1 to 10 to rate the pain, and I think I said 9. They put something in my IV then, and I felt immediate relief. I was in and out of it in recovery for a while, I don't really know how long I was there. I remember that two nurses came over and slid some kind of board under my back, which they said was in order to do an x-ray to make sure the band was placed properly. I kept falling asleep, and I remember a nurse kept waking me up and reminding me to take deep breaths. Apparently my oxygen saturation rate (or whatever it's called) kept dropping whenever I'd slip back to sleep. I don't remember them wheeling me to my room, I think I must have slept on the way. The next thing I remember was seeing my mom and being in the hospital room. I think that was around 1:30pm. The nurse came in and explained that my doctor had ordered that I was to have nothing by mouth the first day, not even ice chips or Water. She pointed to a machine that was hooked up to my IV, and explained that I could push a button every 10 minutes which would dispense more pain medication into my IV as I needed it. She said I wouldn't need to worry about getting up out of the bed until the next day, as I was still catheterized, and wouldn't be expected to pee on my own until tomorrow. She also brought a cup of water with several swabs which she said I could dip in and swab my mouth, because I was complaining that my mouth was terribly dry. I tried to talk to my mom, but my voice was really really hoarse, because of the tube that had been down my throat during surgery. I needed to cough, but it was difficult because it hurt a lot to do so. The nurse also put those air filled compression thingys on my calves at that point. I kind of liked them, it felt like a nice massage! My best friend came to visit for a while, and while he was there, I suddenly had terrible pain that went across my entire abdomen. Before that point, I had only been feeling localized pain on my left side under the port incision. I had a terrible time getting any of the nurses to listen to me when I told them the pain pump wasn't even TOUCHING the pain I suddenly had across my abdomen, I was panting and crying and it was really, really awful. My mom was yelling at the nurses to page my surgeon, I was crying and constantly pressing the call button.....after about 20 minutes of this, the pain management nurse finally came in and gave me extra dilaudid in the IV, and that did the trick. After that the pain pump was sufficient at keeping the pain at bay. I fell asleep for about an hour after that, and when I woke up my husband had arrived. My mom and best friend left, and my husband stayed all afternoon and evening until I fell asleep around 10:30pm. By that time the pain was easily manageable with the pain pump, and my only complaint was that I was desperately thirsty. The nurses came all through the night to continue checking my vitals, and I woke up fully around 8am on Friday morning. My husband came back on Friday as soon as I woke up, and stayed with me the rest of the day until I was discharged, around 4pm. I was allowed to begin sipping water as soon as I woke up, and then I had some broth and some apple juice for Breakfast. Around 10am a nurse came to remove the catheter, which didn't hurt as much as I feared it would. It was just more of an uncomfortable pulling sensation. Around 11:30am the nurse came in to remove my IV, saying that I had to try to manage the pain on oral meds, to see if I'd be OK going home. She also said that I had to get out of the bed and walk to the bathroom, and urinate on my own, otherwise they wouldn't discharge me. I got up and did manage to go, thank goodness! My husband did a cheer with me in the bathroom! (Celebrate the small stuff!) Then after lunch, which was more broth, more apple juice, and some Jello that I couldn't bear to eat (why does hospital jello taste so different from jello at home???) I did laps around the hospital floor with my husband. My surgeon came in to see me around 2pm and looked at my incisions and chatted with me for a while. He said as long as I was feeling OK that I could be discharged without seeing him again later in the day. I ended up leaving around 4pm, after my husband got all of my prescriptions filled at the hospital pharmacy. I took a dose of liquid pain meds just before leaving the hospital, so the ride home wasn't that bad. It was worse trying to get into and out of my non-raising-and-lowering bed once I got home! I sort of had to roll in and out, because it hurt a lot to use my stomach muscles. I also had to sleep on my back the first two nights, because it hurt too much to lay on either side. The first two or three days after I got home were the worst for me. I definitely had more than a few moments of thinking - what have I done to myself? Especially after I got stuck and slimed on WATER the day after getting home from the hospital. I was so swollen that I had to take the tiniest sips of water or broth or I would get that golf ball in the throat feeling. But each day got better and better, and now, 2 weeks out, I feel SO much better. I have a fair amount of restriction still - I don't know if that's still swelling from the surgery or what, but I don't have to take tiny sips anymore. I mean, I can't gulp like I could pre-band, but it's manageable. The only pain I have is really just a sore feeling around the port incision. It still hurts a little bit using my stomach muscles, but not enough to stop me from doing everyday activities. It's also a little bit uncomfortable sitting straight up at my desk at work with "work" clothes on (as opposed to the sweats I lived in for a week after surgery), but as long as I get up and walk around every hour or so, it's manageable. I'm down 11.5 pounds, and feeling hopeful for the future!

5/29/08, still 10 pounds down Well, I started "soft foods" today, and was thrilled beyond belief to be able to chew a very soft, very moist chicken tenderloin. Who ever thought I could get so excited to eat a piece of skinless boneless chicken??? It felt so good to actually CHEW something! I was able to eat one chicken tender, 1/2 of a hot dog, and about 4 spoonfulls of green beans. I ate way too fast though, because I was so excited to be chewing real food, and it hurt! I had to stop, and I thought I'd just let it go down and then be ready to eat the other half of the hot dog and maybe another piece of chicken. That is to say, I really, really, really WANTED to be able to continue eating, but I sat there for about 3 or 4 minutes and overrode the voice in my head telling me to eat, eat, eat. I decided I was done. Amazing! I know I have a hard road ahead though, shutting up that head hunger voice. It wants me to eat through the uncomfortableness and/or pain and/or full feeling. I know it will be difficult to not to give in, but with this band helping me, I know I can do it. On another more depressing note, I got bad news when I went for my post-op appointment at the surgeon's office yesterday. My surgeon as a rule does liver biopsies on all gastric surgery patients, and although I thought it was silly, I consented for him to do this while he was in there placing the band. The pathology report came back, and I definitely have what's known as fatty liver disease. Apparently approximately 80% of all morbidly obese people have this. It's when fat cells invade the liver, and the white blood cells then attack them, causing inflammation of the liver. This in and of itself is considered a relatively benign condition, because it does not, they don't THINK, lead to fibrosis or cirrhosis of the liver - or liver damage, per se. However, lucky me, I'm among the less than 20% of people whose fatty liver disease has actually progressed to the stage of fibrosis. This condition is known as NASH - nonalcoholic steatohepatitis. This is a serious condition because in 20% of patients with NASH, it leads to cirrhosis of the liver, which basically means your liver ceases to function. The only cure at that advanced point is to have a liver transfer. I'm only in the fibrosis stage, but the kicker is that there is no known treatment for NASH, nor is there any way to know whether I'll be one of the ones in whom it will continue to progress to cirrhosis, or whether it will resolve with weight loss. I've been researching this online since yesterday. Needless to say I'm extremely upset. I'm not sure what to do about it? My surgeon said that in some patients, just losing a significant amount of weight has been shown to resolve the condition. In others, it doesn't. No rhyme or reason. He did tell me that I shouldn't feel guilty - it has nothing to do with the fat that you eat in your diet. It is not known why NAFL (nonalcoholic fatty liver) and NASH are more prevalent in morbidly obese people - in other words, it isn't necessarily caused by obesity in and of itself, it just happens to be common among people who are obese. Same for people who are insulin resistant, or who have full blown type ii diabetes. I don't have diabetes, but I do have PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome) which has an insulin resistant component. There seem to be no clear cut answers to anything about this condition. I'm really confused, and I think I'm going to find a hepatologist (liver specialist) to get his or her opinion. My surgeon wants me to join a clinical trial that he is apparently co-sponsoring, which is looking at the impact of a drug called Urso, which is commonly used to treat gallstones. Apparently they have seen successful reversal of NASH using high doses of Urso. He gave me the name of the project manager coordinating the clinical trial at the hospital, but she hasn't called me back yet. I think I should seek the counsel of a hepatologist before I do anything though. It's just such a vulnerable and disconcerting feeling. I feel like I'm a ticking time bomb. Am I going to wake up in 5 years and find that my liver is failing and need a transplant? That is a very sobering thought. The crazy thing that I keep thinking about is that NASH has absolutely no symptoms, and if I hadn't decided to have the lap band surgery, I never would have had any idea whatsoever that my liver was damaged in any way. And I wouldn't be worrying myself to death over it right now. Sigh.....

5/29/08, still 10 pounds down Well, I started "soft foods" today, and was thrilled beyond belief to be able to chew a very soft, very moist chicken tenderloin. Who ever thought I could get so excited to eat a piece of skinless boneless chicken??? It felt so good to actually CHEW something! I was able to eat one chicken tender, 1/2 of a hot dog, and about 4 spoonfulls of green beans. I ate way too fast though, because I was so excited to be chewing real food, and it hurt! I had to stop, and I thought I'd just let it go down and then be ready to eat the other half of the hot dog and maybe another piece of chicken. That is to say, I really, really, really WANTED to be able to continue eating, but I sat there for about 3 or 4 minutes and overrode the voice in my head telling me to eat, eat, eat. I decided I was done. Amazing! I know I have a hard road ahead though, shutting up that head hunger voice. It wants me to eat through the uncomfortableness and/or pain and/or full feeling. I know it will be difficult to not to give in, but with this band helping me, I know I can do it. On another more depressing note, I got bad news when I went for my post-op appointment at the surgeon's office yesterday. My surgeon as a rule does liver biopsies on all gastric surgery patients, and although I thought it was silly, I consented for him to do this while he was in there placing the band. The pathology report came back, and I definitely have what's known as fatty liver disease. Apparently approximately 80% of all morbidly obese people have this. It's when fat cells invade the liver, and the white blood cells then attack them, causing inflammation of the liver. This in and of itself is considered a relatively benign condition, because it does not, they don't THINK, lead to fibrosis or cirrhosis of the liver - or liver damage, per se. However, lucky me, I'm among the less than 20% of people whose fatty liver disease has actually progressed to the stage of fibrosis. This condition is known as NASH - nonalcoholic steatohepatitis. This is a serious condition because in 20% of patients with NASH, it leads to cirrhosis of the liver, which basically means your liver ceases to function. The only cure at that advanced point is to have a liver transfer. I'm only in the fibrosis stage, but the kicker is that there is no known treatment for NASH, nor is there any way to know whether I'll be one of the ones in whom it will continue to progress to cirrhosis, or whether it will resolve with weight loss. I've been researching this online since yesterday. Needless to say I'm extremely upset. I'm not sure what to do about it? My surgeon said that in some patients, just losing a significant amount of weight has been shown to resolve the condition. In others, it doesn't. No rhyme or reason. He did tell me that I shouldn't feel guilty - it has nothing to do with the fat that you eat in your diet. It is not known why NAFL (nonalcoholic fatty liver) and NASH are more prevalent in morbidly obese people - in other words, it isn't necessarily caused by obesity in and of itself, it just happens to be common among people who are obese. Same for people who are insulin resistant, or who have full blown type ii diabetes. I don't have diabetes, but I do have PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome) which has an insulin resistant component. There seem to be no clear cut answers to anything about this condition. I'm really confused, and I think I'm going to find a hepatologist (liver specialist) to get his or her opinion. My surgeon wants me to join a clinical trial that he is apparently co-sponsoring, which is looking at the impact of a drug called Urso, which is commonly used to treat gallstones. Apparently they have seen successful reversal of NASH using high doses of Urso. He gave me the name of the project manager coordinating the clinical trial at the hospital, but she hasn't called me back yet. I think I should seek the counsel of a hepatologist before I do anything though. It's just such a vulnerable and disconcerting feeling. I feel like I'm a ticking time bomb. Am I going to wake up in 5 years and find that my liver is failing and need a transplant? That is a very sobering thought. The crazy thing that I keep thinking about is that NASH has absolutely no symptoms, and if I hadn't decided to have the lap band surgery, I never would have had any idea whatsoever that my liver was damaged in any way. And I wouldn't be worrying myself to death over it right now. Sigh.....