Theotherkels

I found BariatricPal via a WLS Reddit
 
Where to start?   I've always loathed talking about myself - in fact in a recent session with my therapist I told her that I would rather she just ask me questions and I'll just respond, and then of course after she asked me the first question I just never stopped talking.  She laughed later and said she loved how I said I didn't like it and yet was able to easily do so.

I guess I'll start at the very beginning, because my relationship with food and my weight started when I was pretty young.   Food was a comfort during some pretty rough times in my childhood.  I had a stepfather who was verbally abusive and heavy-handed, and food was the one thing that never let me down.  I wouldn't just eat at meals, I would sneak food at other times.  Not always good food mind you - things like frozen bologna thawed under a heat lamp, anchovies (because I had no idea what they were...yuck!), powdered pudding mix, really there wasn't much that was off-limits for me to try except perhaps liver because I absolutely couldn't stand it.   Looking back that was the very start of my dysfunctional relationship with food, and it was something that followed me well into adulthood and only recently did I finally address it.

My mother and stepfather divorced when I was in Junior High - and that's when I really started packing on the pounds.  It was pretty awful, and kids can be very cruel.   I couldn't tell you exactly what I weighed then because I really don't remember.   I was lucky enough to have several friends who loved me no matter whether I was fat or skinny, and I still talk to several of them to this day.

I think the earliest diet I was on was weight watchers, I vaguely remember attending meetings with my stepmom but none of the information sank in because I really didn't care at that point.  I cruised through high school and into college without truly serious concern about my weight.
Then in 2005 I got a huge wake-up call.    In Junior High I'd become friends with a girl named Shawna - she was smart, funny, loyal and someone I was instantly friends with from the moment I walked up to her and said 'no one talks to you do they?'  When she replied 'no' I said "well, then I will".   She was always there for me through some of the hardest parts of my life, always supportive no matter what.  It didn't matter what was going on in her life, she was always so upbeat.    In May of 2005 I received a call from my sister that Shawna had passed away suddenly.  She had died of cardiac arrest, at age 27.   Shawna was always heavy and never really paid attention to it, it was just part of who she was.  Her family had a history of cardiac issues (her father had passed of a heart attack and her mother had at least one that I knew of) and I know that she was on medicine for high-blood pressure....but it never occurred to me that someone could die that young of something like that.  Heart attacks were for people who were in their 50s and were grossly unhealthy.   

So, I started researching what I could do to change my life.   I'd done so many diets - weight watchers, nutrisystem, slimfast, atkins, and they worked short term, but never lasted and the weight would always come back on as soon as I fell off the wagon.  I started looking at surgery options, I think my mom was the one who suggested it, and I went to a seminar.   I had a friend who had done the RNY and it literally saved his life....he was like a completely different person.  In exploring the surgeries, I found that I was really frightened of the idea of doing something as drastic as the RNY, so I put it off.   Another complication was that through genetic lottery I was blessed to not have any of the common comorbities that they required to qualify.   My glucose was fine, my blood pressure perfect, I had no sleep apnea.  The only thing I had was a BMI that qualified and sore knees.

Because of this, I didn't qualify for insurance coverage at that time with the insurance I had (I think it was United Healthcare HMO at the time).  In 2006 I made the decision to self-pay for a lap-band.  I was married by then, and my husband was very supportive.  He stressed that he loved me no matter what my size, but wanted me to be happy and healthy and my self-esteem was still suffering because I'd never dealt with any of the underlying issues from my childhood.    I was banded in Monterrey Mexico on 9/14/2006 - I was 316lbss at the time of surgery, with my highest weight being 333lbs

I came home and the weight started coming off, despite my fears that it wouldn't work - I remember that first time stepping on the scale after 2 weeks, I was convinced I'd still weigh the same and my mom finally talked me into stepping onto the scale.  I was down 14lbs, and I finally realized that this was a great thing.    It wasn't all sunshine and daisies of course, I still struggled with food and because I was a self-pay my insurance wouldn't cover the cost of my fills which were $250 a piece.  I was filled too tightly at one point and threw up everything I ate, but luckily we were able to remedy that quickly.  There were only a few fill centers at the time that would even touch patients who had been banded outside the US, and the closest one was an hour away in Chicago.   3 years in I had lost 100lbs, and I felt better than I had in as long as I could remember.  I had energy, I could shop in normal stores - I was still a size 16 but I could actually shop for attractive clothes.   

It was around this time that I started a new job in the software industry - it involved a lot of sitting and very little activity.  My whole schedule changed and I didn't handle it well.   Even though I hadn't changed my diet that much, I was gaining weight and I was so depressed and tired, but was having trouble sleeping well.  I'd always struggled with depression - having been in and out of therapy for much of my teenage and adult years, so I thought that I probably needed an antidepressant.   I finally went to my doctor and asked to be put on something.  First she told me that I was very brave to come in for help, that she knew how hard it is to admit that you can't do it on your own anymore.  The second thing she said was that she wanted to do my bloodwork because my family has a history of thyroid issues and it had been over a year since I was tested.    Sure enough, the results came back showing that I was hypothyroid....my thyroid decided to take a nap on me and it's been a battle ever since.  This was January of 2010

In September of 2010 we moved down to NC - I was teetering right at 300lbs and looking forward to having my thyroid finally under control.  I started exercising regularly, joined weight watchers again, and was making some headway.   I was 32 years old, and my husband and I had "the talk" about whether or not we wanted to try and have kids.   We had always been anti-kid, not because we didn't want them so much as because we enjoyed being unfettered and we weren't living in an area where we wanted to raise children.  The school districts were ass and we weren't making enough money.   Once we settled down in NC, bought a house, secured jobs - we started looking at our life and whether or not children were a possiblity.    We decided that yes, this was something we both wanted - so we started trying to get pregnant.

Of course that was full of angst and panic that I was so fat it was going to be problematic.  That my thyroid was going to cause me problems, that if I DID manage to get pregnant I was going to end up with gestational diabetes, that my blood pressure was going to skyrocket and my child would be born missing some essential piece because a fat woman couldn't possibly have a healthy child.   Well...I did actually get pregnant in the average amount of time (6 months), I didn't get gestational diabetes, my blood pressure got a little wonky at the very end of my pregnancy.  Our son was born at 38 weeks, 1 day via C-section because he was a footling breech (meaning he stuck his foot out my cervix...OUCH) and had all his essential parts.   I ended up at 340lbs at the very end of my pregnancy, and dropped to 320lbs after I was done swelling.

I tried joining one of those mommy stroller exercise groups for awhile - in part to get out and socialize and in part to try and do something about my weight yet again.   I ended up quitting because it was expensive, it was time consuming, and as nice as the women were they were not my type of people.   I'm introverted, and geeky, and I like to be social on my own terms.    

In 2014 I decided to give medically assisted weight loss a try - one of those weight loss clinics.  This one was called CMWL (center for medical weightloss).  I was placed on a 960 k/cal diet - largely their shakes and crisps and bars.  I went balls to the wall - exercising 6 days a week for 45 minutes, eating a strict diet, and I dropped 60lbs in 3 months.  The downside was that I got sick, so very sick.  My body was freaking out and couldn't defend itself against anything.  I caught every single cold thrown at me, I developed heart palpitations which scared the crap out of me.  The feeling of a fish flopping in your chest is so disconcerting.   I stopped the program, gained the weight back and then some, and sank the lowest I have ever felt.   The only upside to the entire experience was that I started taking medicine for my anxiety, and I sought therapy to finally address my binge-eating and the underlying causes.

In 2015 I went to a bariatric clinic here and asked for help - I was still self-pay because my insurance had no bariatric coverage.  I wanted to see if I could salvage something from my banding.  I was willing to pay for fills and go through the motions, but I wanted support.  I needed a program that had support groups, boards, meetings, people I could talk to that knew how this felt.   But instead of getting help I was told that my band was too old.  I was outside the 5 year window that most banded patients have to lose the weight.  I was expired, and despite the lady telling me she would call me to arrange something....she never called.  It was clear they weren't interested.

In 2016 we were fortunate enough to acquire really good insurance.  I did my research and started seeing a bariatric doctor in April about the possibility of a revision.  I knew it would be an uphill battle since most insurance companies are reticent to shell out for a second surgery when the first one has clearly failed.  Luckily for me I had records to show that in the beginning it was extremely successful, and my band also developed some issues (I wouldn't say this is lucky though because it's been unpleasant).   I started having nasty reflux at the beginning of the year - even water would give me heartburn.  Twice I've awakened gasping for air because I have inhaled the acid/bile while I slept (thankfully Prilosec is helping with this ailment until I have surgery).   I've done everything the doctor instructed - I had an upper GI and an endoscopy, I've attended the back on track class and I've been seeing a dietitian regularly.  I've changed my diet and activity level and it's amazing the difference it's made in just a short span of time.  My doctor says that we'll likely be ready to submit everything to the insurance soon and we are looking at Jan/Feb for my surgery date.  I'm hopeful, and terrified at the same time.

The other really important thing that I did this year was I got myself into therapy again - I'm taking care of myself, truly taking care of myself BOTH mentally and physically, for the first time in my life.   

So that's my story....it's long, and curvy, and hilly, and has shaped me into who I am today - an almost 40 introverted geek artist who believes that nonsense is necessary, and dice should be taken everywhere you go.