bfrancis

I stand and tip my hat to you all. Thank you for your positive encouragement and words of concern. awill - they do indeed help. Thank you. imaluckydog - very much appreciated thank you - I believe! PJB - If I knew what the exact issues were, that would be a way to help out a million others. Not only would I bottle that - I'd sell it too! Thank you. arkansasbandster - a lot of encouragement there. I indeed need to find my internal source of inspiration (as opposed the the external sauce I am currently working with!). A very strong quote there. I'm hoping this has been the first step on the ladder - indeed four little extra steps have been added on top of my first. Thanks again people (here's me with a big fat glass of water in my hand...and a piece of chocolate - baby steps!)

I’m suffering. I’m rubbish. I’m a failure. I can’t do it. I didn’t think I should write about this on a weight loss surgery blog as it doesn’t entirely have relevance. Especially as I signed out almost two months ago saying I wouldn’t be writing any more. Ah, but how the slow winter nights of insomnia have a way of thrusting the urge to splurge upon one’s frame. So, why am I suffering? Why am I rubbish? A failure? And what exactly can’t I do? All will be revealed in the next exciting paragraph. With as much stalling as I can muster – I am slowly coming to the painful realisation that I might well be an alcoholic. Ouch. Did I say that? Well – I may not be an alcoholic, but indeed I am a heavy drinker. All who know me and love or hate me will vouch for that very fact. But when it comes to being a true alcoholic – the definitions seem so muddy, I am not sure. Or am I? I have no withdrawal symptoms when I stop and I am not dependent, but – I continue to drink despite the negative social effects, despite the financial drain on my less than healthy financial state and despite the effects it has on my health. This is where I am stretching the relevance to a weight loss issue. But lately, I am wondering whether it is more closely linked than I initially thought. Over the last few months, my progress into the halls of The Temple of Normal BMI has halted. My eating has lessened and my exercise has increased. My drinking has also picked up a tad. Goddammit, there lies the big bloody bastard bugger-face staring me straight in the eyes. I know it’s there. I can see it plainly and simply. Alcohol is causing me to not lose weight, despite being over-tightened on the band front. Alcohol is causing me to slowly lose friends. Alcohol is causing me to lose money. Alcohol is having great effects on my family life and alcohol is causing me to hate myself. So you can see the attraction I have to it, eh! I am writing this because I am so disappointed in myself and have used this outlet to vent and eventually feel better about the problems at hand. However, I don’t think this problem is going to be sorted by vitriolic venting. What has become clear in this whole gastric band journey is the addiction I had to food – and probably still do. You may well catch me of an evening desperately trying to eat a juicy steak. After each mouthful – running to the lavatory to expel what I have just swallowed as my band is currently just a little too tight. I could easily eat less cumbersome things to ensure ease of passage – but I want the steak. And I will return to the plate and repeat the same procedure perhaps four or five times. Because the band hasn’t cured my need to satisfy my desire for flesh! But it has offered me a way to control it should I so desire. It has helped me realise my addiction more than anything else. A knowledge which I am grateful for; but sometimes a little foolhardy with. I have so far, despite my pitfalls and apparent bulimic state, been relatively good with all other food (I won’t bore you with my chocolate rushes). Booze on the other hand has no control in place. I am at its mercy. In fact, I am at MY mercy. Let’s face it – I decide when to drink – I am aware and I am fully conscious of what it is doing. I was under the grand illusions as I started to lose weight that I would quit drinking. I know the reason I do it and it is sadly very simple. I do it because I am terribly shy. When I have had a drink however, I am quite the opposite. I become bombastic, gregarious and hugely annoying and people, despite their best efforts, can’t fail to notice me. Something in me likes that. The shy retiring giant hates being shy and retiring and craves people to remember him. Even if it means the memories for them are bad and the memories for me are non-existent. I figured it would be the end to my drinking because I wouldn’t be so shy. Losing weight would give me more confidence and make me more outgoing and allow me to stand tall and have conversations with people on an equal standing knowing that they were talking to a person, not a walrus. But, such is life that when a walrus loses weight – it is still a walrus. I am still painfully shy and I still find it difficult to talk to people. Maybe years of fatness have ingrained shyness into my psyche or maybe I am just shy because I am. The gastric band has given me a great opportunity to overcome some of my demons. An opportunity that I sometimes abuse and take for granted – time has a wonderful way of letting one forget their blessings. What it hasn’t done is offer me a cure for all of my other failings. Perhaps writing this will be the first step on another journey of self-discovery and perhaps it will just be another piece of prose that adds to my posthumous biography that will never be written. I decided to write this because I do feel it is of relevance to people considering having the surgery as it has shown me that I was perhaps a little over-eager to consider it the answer to my problems instead of a pretty good guide to help me find my own answers – a guide that is sometimes ignored. So, after that marathon outpouring of in most angst and in summation: I’m suffering - yes I am, but I am admitting I need help, so my suffering on that side of things is perhaps no longer in silence and it may well help my future efforts. I’m rubbish - yes again. But, I know I have a way to crawl out of the trash can. It’s just up to me to do it. I’m a failure - not entirely, because it’s not yet over. Maybe I can turn things around. I can’t do it - Yes I can. Originally posted at: www.lapbandblog.org.uk

I’m suffering. I’m rubbish. I’m a failure. I can’t do it. I didn’t think I should write about this on a weight loss surgery blog as it doesn’t entirely have relevance. Especially as I signed out almost two months ago saying I wouldn’t be writing any more. Ah, but how the slow winter nights of insomnia have a way of thrusting the urge to splurge upon one’s frame. So, why am I suffering? Why am I rubbish? A failure? And what exactly can’t I do? All will be revealed in the next exciting paragraph. With as much stalling as I can muster – I am slowly coming to the painful realisation that I might well be an alcoholic. Ouch. Did I say that? Well – I may not be an alcoholic, but indeed I am a heavy drinker. All who know me and love or hate me will vouch for that very fact. But when it comes to being a true alcoholic – the definitions seem so muddy, I am not sure. Or am I? I have no withdrawal symptoms when I stop and I am not dependent, but – I continue to drink despite the negative social effects, despite the financial drain on my less than healthy financial state and despite the effects it has on my health. This is where I am stretching the relevance to a weight loss issue. But lately, I am wondering whether it is more closely linked than I initially thought. Over the last few months, my progress into the halls of The Temple of Normal BMI has halted. My eating has lessened and my exercise has increased. My drinking has also picked up a tad. Goddammit, there lies the big bloody bastard bugger-face staring me straight in the eyes. I know it’s there. I can see it plainly and simply. Alcohol is causing me to not lose weight, despite being over-tightened on the band front. Alcohol is causing me to slowly lose friends. Alcohol is causing me to lose money. Alcohol is having great effects on my family life and alcohol is causing me to hate myself. So you can see the attraction I have to it, eh! I am writing this because I am so disappointed in myself and have used this outlet to vent and eventually feel better about the problems at hand. However, I don’t think this problem is going to be sorted by vitriolic venting. What has become clear in this whole gastric band journey is the addiction I had to food – and probably still do. You may well catch me of an evening desperately trying to eat a juicy steak. After each mouthful – running to the lavatory to expel what I have just swallowed as my band is currently just a little too tight. I could easily eat less cumbersome things to ensure ease of passage – but I want the steak. And I will return to the plate and repeat the same procedure perhaps four or five times. Because the band hasn’t cured my need to satisfy my desire for flesh! But it has offered me a way to control it should I so desire. It has helped me realise my addiction more than anything else. A knowledge which I am grateful for; but sometimes a little foolhardy with. I have so far, despite my pitfalls and apparent bulimic state, been relatively good with all other food (I won’t bore you with my chocolate rushes). Booze on the other hand has no control in place. I am at its mercy. In fact, I am at MY mercy. Let’s face it – I decide when to drink – I am aware and I am fully conscious of what it is doing. I was under the grand illusions as I started to lose weight that I would quit drinking. I know the reason I do it and it is sadly very simple. I do it because I am terribly shy. When I have had a drink however, I am quite the opposite. I become bombastic, gregarious and hugely annoying and people, despite their best efforts, can’t fail to notice me. Something in me likes that. The shy retiring giant hates being shy and retiring and craves people to remember him. Even if it means the memories for them are bad and the memories for me are non-existent. I figured it would be the end to my drinking because I wouldn’t be so shy. Losing weight would give me more confidence and make me more outgoing and allow me to stand tall and have conversations with people on an equal standing knowing that they were talking to a person, not a walrus. But, such is life that when a walrus loses weight – it is still a walrus. I am still painfully shy and I still find it difficult to talk to people. Maybe years of fatness have ingrained shyness into my psyche or maybe I am just shy because I am. The gastric band has given me a great opportunity to overcome some of my demons. An opportunity that I sometimes abuse and take for granted – time has a wonderful way of letting one forget their blessings. What it hasn’t done is offer me a cure for all of my other failings. Perhaps writing this will be the first step on another journey of self-discovery and perhaps it will just be another piece of prose that adds to my posthumous biography that will never be written. I decided to write this because I do feel it is of relevance to people considering having the surgery as it has shown me that I was perhaps a little over-eager to consider it the answer to my problems instead of a pretty good guide to help me find my own answers – a guide that is sometimes ignored. So, after that marathon outpouring of in most angst and in summation: I’m suffering - yes I am, but I am admitting I need help, so my suffering on that side of things is perhaps no longer in silence and it may well help my future efforts. I’m rubbish - yes again. But, I know I have a way to crawl out of the trash can. It’s just up to me to do it. I’m a failure - not entirely, because it’s not yet over. Maybe I can turn things around. I can’t do it - Yes I can. Originally posted at: www.lapbandblog.org.uk

Thanks for the comments people - still here - just not posting blogs until something of interest happens. Time for me to be reading about you guys!

Hello gorgeous people Does anyone here Twitter? I'm getting a little bored following mass marketers and pedlars of absolutely nothing relevant by reurn follow and would welcome actually reading up on like-minded people for a change. If so, please follow me or post your Twitter username here so I can add to my profile. Benedict Francis (benfrancis) on Twitter (@benfrancis) Thank you! Ben

Go for it: Lap Band | Gastric Band Weight Loss Blog Taking a look at your this evening after some hefty karaoke! "She's Like the Wind" is obviously on the cards....

It seems to be a huge balancing trick to me. I was there too. Sounds like you need a tiny, tiny bit more restriction and to re-educate the chewing system. Half a year down the line - I sometime still forget to chew properly. Just when you find your sweet spot - you'll lose enough weight in a few weeks to start all over. Great fun!

I recently received some distressing news that has meant that I will be bringing this blog to a close for the foreseeable future. The news from my doctor was sudden and very sharp. Having been basking in the speedy weight loss glory that the Lap Band enabled me to have has been nothing short of amazing for me. But it was over the last couple of months that I noticed a change in my eating habits and frame reduction. I have been eating less, feeling unwell and not losing any weight at all. This prompted a visit to the doctor. A visit that left me cold. After the array of basic tests that were performed on me – a diagnosis was delivered in perhaps the worst bedside manner that any man could muster. “Well Mr Francis”, the doctor sternly opened with. “I don’t think we need any blood tests, it’s pretty obvious what the problem is”. The words left me curious and somewhat scared. “You need to pay close attention to me here, as I am going to say something that may well initially distress you”. I braced myself for the worst possible scenario. “You are going to…” Time stopped – I knew exactly what he was going to say…and he confirmed my worst fears in just a few words… “You are going to…have to start exercising”. Oh god no. I left the surgery having just been diagnosed with terminal laziness. I reached out for sympathy when I got home – but there was none to be had. I was in this on my own. After the initial shock subsided, I realised that perhaps I had been far too melodramatic for anyone to pay attention to; melodrama that may well have come across in the above prose, who knows? I moved through the stages of grief pretty quickly. Denial came and went in a brief flash – “What does that quack know? I have a gastric band godammit!” No sooner had denial crossed my mind, that the thought of complaining to the Medical Council about his delivery of such a ridiculous prognosis entered my mind. I would demand that he was struck off immediately! The angry stage left just as speedily as it came and was replaced with bargaining. I tried to think of ways I could bribe him to give me magical beans that would speed up my metabolism in a less unhealthy way than amphetamines. I realised there were no such beans. And so, by the time I arrived home, bargaining was replaced by depression. The very thought of changing my sedentary life style to something less stagnant left me in need of a pantry populated with Prozac. Self-pity is a funny thing. It’s heroically tedious. This led to the fifth and final stage, acceptance. I got very bored of being in a black mood over something as trivial as raising my heart rate above sluggish. I turned myself around very quickly with some financial therapy and a new excercise bike. Only forty kilometers and a rather large bucket of sweat later – I am convinced that I may well start feeling excited about this whole thing again. I am very easily bored – and may well find myself in everlasting ennui with my new excercise machine – but, if I do, I am going to do my utmost to replace it with something that will keep this new life that the Lap Band has offered me. I entitled this article Goodbye because I feel I have reached the end of scribing anything useful to the weight-loss community and I would only be serving to fill empty space with nonsensical rambles. As per this one. I may well return for an update if and when I feel there is something of relevance to say in relation to this blog – but until then, I sign off. I do hope you have enjoyed these stories or found them interesting, useful or reminiscent of your own experiences. If not, then I pity the fact that you have read this far! Feel free to make cyber-friends with me on Facebook, Twitter or see my website. Goodbye fair fellow and wannabe fellow banders, I wish you success and pleasant trails on your life ahead! Ben x Originally posted at www.lapbandforum.org.uk

I recently received some distressing news that has meant that I will be bringing this blog to a close for the foreseeable future. The news from my doctor was sudden and very sharp. Having been basking in the speedy weight loss glory that the Lap Band enabled me to have has been nothing short of amazing for me. But it was over the last couple of months that I noticed a change in my eating habits and frame reduction. I have been eating less, feeling unwell and not losing any weight at all. This prompted a visit to the doctor. A visit that left me cold. After the array of basic tests that were performed on me – a diagnosis was delivered in perhaps the worst bedside manner that any man could muster. “Well Mr Francis”, the doctor sternly opened with. “I don’t think we need any blood tests, it’s pretty obvious what the problem is”. The words left me curious and somewhat scared. “You need to pay close attention to me here, as I am going to say something that may well initially distress you”. I braced myself for the worst possible scenario. “You are going to…” Time stopped – I knew exactly what he was going to say…and he confirmed my worst fears in just a few words… “You are going to…have to start exercising”. Oh god no. I left the surgery having just been diagnosed with terminal laziness. I reached out for sympathy when I got home – but there was none to be had. I was in this on my own. After the initial shock subsided, I realised that perhaps I had been far too melodramatic for anyone to pay attention to; melodrama that may well have come across in the above prose, who knows? I moved through the stages of grief pretty quickly. Denial came and went in a brief flash – “What does that quack know? I have a gastric band godammit!” No sooner had denial crossed my mind, that the thought of complaining to the Medical Council about his delivery of such a ridiculous prognosis entered my mind. I would demand that he was struck off immediately! The angry stage left just as speedily as it came and was replaced with bargaining. I tried to think of ways I could bribe him to give me magical beans that would speed up my metabolism in a less unhealthy way than amphetamines. I realised there were no such beans. And so, by the time I arrived home, bargaining was replaced by depression. The very thought of changing my sedentary life style to something less stagnant left me in need of a pantry populated with Prozac. Self-pity is a funny thing. It’s heroically tedious. This led to the fifth and final stage, acceptance. I got very bored of being in a black mood over something as trivial as raising my heart rate above sluggish. I turned myself around very quickly with some financial therapy and a new excercise bike. Only forty kilometers and a rather large bucket of sweat later – I am convinced that I may well start feeling excited about this whole thing again. I am very easily bored – and may well find myself in everlasting ennui with my new excercise machine – but, if I do, I am going to do my utmost to replace it with something that will keep this new life that the Lap Band has offered me. I entitled this article Goodbye because I feel I have reached the end of scribing anything useful to the weight-loss community and I would only be serving to fill empty space with nonsensical rambles. As per this one. I may well return for an update if and when I feel there is something of relevance to say in relation to this blog – but until then, I sign off. I do hope you have enjoyed these stories or found them interesting, useful or reminiscent of your own experiences. If not, then I pity the fact that you have read this far! Feel free to make cyber-friends with me on Facebook, Twitter or see my website. Goodbye fair fellow and wannabe fellow banders, I wish you success and pleasant trails on your life ahead! Ben x Originally posted at www.lapbandforum.org.uk

Thanks for the feedback ladies. BG - Do you really think there will be negativity? If so - best off brushing away those people who frown on you surely? Shed the pounds as well as the bigots! We're all in this together - let's Band together and fight the prejudice! Anyhow - most people on this board who are hiding teh fact from their friends have their pictures on the profiles - so I guess there is an awful lot of reliance on the fact that the people who would beat us up about it are too stupid to use the Internet...in which case they are too stupid to have any valuable opinions! Look at me - all gearing up for my entry into the trenches of La Resistance! Allons-y mes amis! Q09 - hope you are feeling less blue today - this time next year you will be...um...what's a happy colour...pink? Green? Puce? Probably teracotta!