RavenClaw779

Reasons for Weight Loss Surgery Part 1 I was a normal weight child and very active - a “Tomboy”. My home life at best was dysfunctional , at worst, physically and emotionally abusive. Food and access to food was controlled by my mother. You ate what was put on your plate and if you didn’t finish by the time everyone else had, you sat there until you did. Didn’t finish? Your plate was put in the refrigerator and served again at breakfast and again until you ate it. You were not allowed to help yourself to something to eat in between meals and there were no “after school snacks” unless I had a friend over. When I had company, treats like milk and cookies were offered but I knew better than to have any - as soon as the other child had gone home, I’d be castigated for having eaten the “treats” which were “just for company“. I was also schooled not to accept any snacks at a playmates’ house. If by chance the other parent mentioned to my mother that, “the kids had a snack of…“ as soon we got home I would be punished. Food and the withholding of food figured prominently in our disciplining. Poor grade on a test - I was sent to my room to await my father’s return from work. At which point I would be beaten with a belt and sent to bed with no dinner. Accused of “back talking” - sent to my room to write 1,000 sentences; “I will not back talk” - and provided an apple and a glass of milk per day until the task was completed. My mother designated food as belonging to certain people; “your father’s cookies”, “my ice cream”. To ensure my brothers and I didn’t, “steal” or “sneak” food, it was often hidden. When I was 9 or 10, my younger brother already had a weight problem so to ensure neither of us were eating outside of my mother’s control, we were locked in our rooms at night. Mealtime was itself was a miserable experience. My father would come home from work to down a pitcher of martinis and as my mother would harangue about a variety of issues, we would sit down to dinner. To deflect my father’s anger away from her, my mother would pick a scapegoat. Usually, it was me. Both of my parents made it clear from the time I was a small child that they hadn’t wanted a daughter, thus I was fair game for humiliation for any shortcomings ranging from a poor grade or a messy room to not being invited to a party. More often than not the verbal abuse would denigrate to being slapped, punched or dragged by my hair from the room before being beaten with a belt. I learned to eat fast and get away from the table as quickly as possible. At age 13, my mother became concerned that I was getting, “too fat” and took me to the pediatrician for my annual physical. The doctor assured her my weight was normal and that I was developing into a woman. As we left the doctor’s office my mother told me that she, “Didn’t care what the doctor said - you’re going on a diet!“. I tend to recall that day as the day my problems with food really started. My mother was an expert dieter - 5’6’’ and no more than 118 pounds ever. Extremely proud that at the birth of her last child, my second brother, she’d gained no weight, her eating habits were poor: coffee and a cigarette for breakfast, a weight loss shake for lunch, minimal servings of whatever we had for dinner, followed by a large serving of frozen yogurt for dessert. Following the fateful doctor visit, the focus on my weight became excruciating as did the rules. No bread, no dessert, breakfast of coffee and orange juice only. My lunch was packed for me daily and was the same thing - dry tuna, an apple, a thermos of skim milk. Dinner was portioned out by my mother - no seconds allowed. We did not celebrate my birthday one year as I was “too fat”. Now in high school, the control over my eating extended to my personal life. My mother went though my drawers, reading notes from friends, refusing to allow me to drive, or work, putting me on social restrictions for months. Despite this I was a solid B+ student, class officer and involved in numerous clubs and school organizations. At home the physical and verbal abuse continued; I had, “thunder thighs”, “whale lips”, “piano legs”. I chose a college five hours away from home. While I quickly got the hang of college life, the availability of food was something I wasn’t used to. I joined at sorority and lived in the house. We were provided with three meals a day and it certainly wasn’t the narrow selections offered to me a home. Other girls were eating bread and dessert - it wasn’t long before I was eating like everyone else. I was 118 pounds when I left home and 133 when I came home for Thanksgiving my freshman year. My mother was furious and refused to speak to me again after advising me that if I wasn’t down to 118 by Christmas, there’d be no presents. I wasn’t and there weren’t. When I came home for the summer break that year I was up to 156. This time I was advised that it was too humiliating to be for her to been seen in public with a “pig” and that if I wasn’t 120 by the time it was time to return to school there would be no new clothes. That summer passed with her indirect references to me as “her”, “she” and “it”, using other family members to communicate as necessary. I came home from my summer job on my birthday to find my parents had left that day for a beach vacation with my brothers. The note left indicated that no one wanted me to go as it was too embarrassing to be seen with someone as “disgusting” as me. I left for college that fall - 123 pounds but no new clothes as I weighed “too much”. I haven’t worn shorts or a bathing suit since then. (Continued...)

I've said it before - I wonder how many of us had some aspect of childhood abuse underlying our weight problem? I spent a couple of hours after my bariatric support group talking with a women with a childhood much like mine - uncanny. I'm very fortunate to volunteer with my local hospital's Diabetes & Nutrition Center. Five RD's have my back and have given me loads of reading material re; GB/LB. I'm also working one-on-one with an RD testing a new protocal for nutritional counseling for obese adults - right now it's coping skills in lieu of stuffing down the stress with food. I am learning a lot especially about myself and not hiding my past for fear it makes me seem weak.

Thanks for your kind thoughts - Yes, I do know it wasn't my fault and I'm thankful that I didn't turn out like either of my parents.

My WLS has everyone on Medifast for a minimum of a month prior to surgery. I'd lost 10 lbs of the 10% required on my own and hoped to only have to do the "MF" for the two weeks prior to my surgery date (3/10) but NOooo... It's basically 4 MF shakes a day, 1 cup of low sodium broth(if desired - anybody "desire" something that smells like dog food?), 5 oz of protein(chicken/fish) and roughly 1.5 cups of low carb veggies. After one week it turned out I had an allergy to the soy in the MF. Since I live about an hour away from my WLS, the nurse suggested a find a product comparable to MF (100 cal/13/Carbs/15g Protein) and recommended Slimfast Lo Carb or High Protein. She told me the goal is 70+ grams of Protein, < 65 grams of carbs and around 500 calories. I found Jillian Michaels Whey (100cal/7carbs/18gm Protein) and Top Care (Price Chopper's store brand) with (110cal/4 carbs/20 grams Protein). I make and freeze it then throw it back in the blender. I am not having a problem with my carbs, but I am with getting enough protein and keeping my calories under 500. I am not losing at all - it feels like my metabolism is in revolt. I guess I could go to just 5 shakes a day but God help me I live for that one meal!:thumbdown: When in doubt check with your doctor's office or the nutritionist! Good Luck

(Continued) Through the remainder of my college years and through my twenties, I kept my weight under control; my weight averaged between 125 - 136, but I worked and worried about it endlessly, always feeling “fat”. As my career started to really take off and my responsibilities grew - travel, business dinners, I had to aggressively restrict my food intake to maintain my weight. I spent the first seven years after I graduated living at home, helping to support my financially irresponsible father, nursing my mother through breast and then lung cancer and caring for my youngest brother. I was finally able to break free in 1995. Money was tight and the debts incurred supporting my parents were high. I worked for an international insurance company, but the pay wasn’t great and my boss difficult to work for. Turnover in my department was over 50% that year, so I was working long hours, weekends and living in fear that I wouldn’t be able to keep a roof over my head. My weight escalated to 176 by January 1996. As I became more acclimated to living on my own and managing my career, I was able to better manage my weight. Between January 1996 and August 1997 I lost 37 pounds. I started dating my future husband, in July of that year. We both worked for the same company and although it was not against company policy to date a co-worker we opted to keep it a secret. That in addition to living 150 miles apart, was stressful and I began to battle my weight again. In the first year we dated, we both gained 20 pounds. In 1998 I was offered a plumb position with a competing company, one that would provide a new direction to my career, a company car, double my salary, and eventually transfer me to the same city as my future husband. I now telecommuted from a home office and inherited a service territory which hadn’t been handled in two years. Coupled with the fact that the promised “training” wasn’t provided, I was now working at times 14 hours a day, seven days a week. Often on the road for hours at time, I turned to fast food. Late nights at my desk with pizza, long work hours, long distance relationship and loads of stress and I soon became a junk food, comfort food and binge eater. By the end of 1998 I was 166. In 1999, I was a top performer with my company and was offered a relocation to the same city as my future husband. I was made aware that my assignment had problems and as I worked my way into my new territory, it became clear that the “problems” were quite serious and in some cases, potentially litigious. I was charged to, “treat this territory like it was my own business”. I did, and won the support of my direct manager and home office staff. I was still working 12 to 14 hours a day plus weekends. I ended 1999 at 183 pounds. Year 2000 would prove to be the most stressful year of my life. My company decided to dramatically change my (and my co-workers) job duties. I was now juggling tasks that had been handled by three separate individuals. In April I got engaged and began planning a wedding for October in my future husband's home state, a 1,000 miles away. In August I found a lump in my breast and was diagnosed with breast cancer the same weekend the invitations arrived from the printer. Fortunately I became a patient at a world recognized research facility, but it was still a crazy, stressful time. Between August and October I was diagnosed, packed my apartment, moved to my fiance's house, arranged a wedding reception for 150 people, had surgery and worked full time. In November I began chemotherapy. By the end of 2000 my weight was up to 213 pounds. I finished chemo in January 2001. A month later I started five weeks of radiation therapy. I continued to work full time, often 70+ plus hours a week. Despite winning multiple “key contributor” awards that year, I was given my first “unsatisfactory” performance review and told that as soon as my radiation therapy had finished, I should’ve been able to get back to my old service numbers. I was constantly stressed, sleeping sometimes just four hours a night - terrified that I’d lose my job and hence my insurance coverage. Couple with my new job duties as a “wife” I threw in the diet towel and ate whatever I wanted. By the end of 2001, I was 252 and 2002 added another 31 pounds - 283. In 2003 I was diagnosed with Type II diabetes and not surprisingly, due to the radiation to my chest, my thyroid had shut down. The job stress was incredible . My territory was supposed to be staffed by four people, but despite numerous promises from corporate that additional staff would be hired, I continued to hear that management didn’t feel we needed additional staff , since, I, "managed it all so well”. When once again my recommendations were ignored and resulted in a loss to the company in excess of 1M, I realized that I was just wearing myself out for nothing. My husband and I discussed it and as it looked like his company was going to transfer us to New York in 2004(actually took until 2005) we decided it would be best for me to quit before it killed me. Following my early “retirement” I enrolled in a local hospital's Simple Success Weight Loss Program and lost 20 pounds over 8 week period. Over the last seven years, my weight has averaged between 253-267. I can manage weight loss for a limited time, but stress leads me to binge eating. I find myself haunted by memories of my childhood and sometimes wonder if I’m not stuffing myself to stuff down the painful memories. I am the primary “homemaker” and find that everything from paying bills, to housework, to family obligations are my resonsibility. I have minimal down time and often find my days are just as long now, serving my family, as it was when I worked full-time. I jokingly say that I “gave up” one of my jobs - now I can’t figure out how I managed to work the hours I used to and do all that I do now?!? Nevertheless, not working has created a gap in my life socially and for my husband and I financially. I need to get back in the work force, but I’m afraid to get out there at this size. In the South, where I'm from, people are a little more gentile, a little less willing to pick on someone for their weight. I’ve found since I’ve moved to New York, that people, even strangers, will very directly comment on someone’s weight. I’ve had a neighbor snub me then very loudly comment on my weight and make disparaging remarks to other neighbors. I’ve had business professionals I contact on behalf of my charity work feel free to comment. I even had a medical professional at Memorial Sloan-Kettering harass me to the point I left the clinic in the middle of an MRI! I have had enough of dealing with and being defined by my weight, by being weighed in the balance and being found wanting because I’m too big. I’ve spent 32 years with issues related to food and my weight coloring every aspect of my life. I was able to overcome the short comings related to growing up in a physically and emotionally abusive home; going on to have a productive professional career, a real family, and being an active member of my community. Despite numerous attempts to control my weight, this is one area in which I have failed repeatedly. I’ve been well-educated through nutritional counseling, and my own efforts to self-educate. I know the risks this extra weight puts on my overall health and I am already seeing the effects. Coupled with the social and emotional aspects of being “plus sized”, I feel like the “life” is gone from my life - that I’m avoiding doing more and more activities because I’m trapped in a body that doesn’t feel like mine. When I dream, I don’t look like this. I’m willing to make the changes needed to lose weight - I’ve done it before, but I need a partner(so to speak) to help me down the long road back to being me.

I had a "mini-meltdown" the other day too - I thank God that as I've been fairly open I've lucked into meeting other people going through the process and esp everyone on LapBandTalk. Stay strong - it took courage just to get to this decision - it's normal to have some jitters. Heard a great comment from a friend who had the procedure in Nov '09 - she's an RN and states that having the lap-band surgery was the "best thing" she's ever done. 65 pounds are gone and she's coach cheerleading and traveling again.:thumbdown:

(Continued) Through the remainder of my college years and through my twenties, I kept my weight under control; my weight averaged between 125 - 136, but I worked and worried about it endlessly, always feeling “fat”. As my career started to really take off and my responsibilities grew - travel, business dinners, I had to aggressively restrict my food intake to maintain my weight. I spent the first seven years after I graduated living at home, helping to support my financially irresponsible father, nursing my mother through breast and then lung cancer and caring for my youngest brother. I was finally able to break free in 1995. Money was tight and the debts incurred supporting my parents were high. I worked for an international insurance company, but the pay wasn’t great and my boss difficult to work for. Turnover in my department was over 50% that year, so I was working long hours, weekends and living in fear that I wouldn’t be able to keep a roof over my head. My weight escalated to 176 by January 1996. As I became more acclimated to living on my own and managing my career, I was able to better manage my weight. Between January 1996 and August 1997 I lost 37 pounds. I started dating my future husband, in July of that year. We both worked for the same company and although it was not against company policy to date a co-worker we opted to keep it a secret. That in addition to living 150 miles apart, was stressful and I began to battle my weight again. In the first year we dated, we both gained 20 pounds. In 1998 I was offered a plumb position with a competing company, one that would provide a new direction to my career, a company car, double my salary, and eventually transfer me to the same city as my future husband. I now telecommuted from a home office and inherited a service territory which hadn’t been handled in two years. Coupled with the fact that the promised “training” wasn’t provided, I was now working at times 14 hours a day, seven days a week. Often on the road for hours at time, I turned to fast food. Late nights at my desk with pizza, long work hours, long distance relationship and loads of stress and I soon became a junk food, comfort food and binge eater. By the end of 1998 I was 166. In 1999, I was a top performer with my company and was offered a relocation to the same city as my future husband. I was made aware that my assignment had problems and as I worked my way into my new territory, it became clear that the “problems” were quite serious and in some cases, potentially litigious. I was charged to, “treat this territory like it was my own business”. I did, and won the support of my direct manager and home office staff. I was still working 12 to 14 hours a day plus weekends. I ended 1999 at 183 pounds. Year 2000 would prove to be the most stressful year of my life. My company decided to dramatically change my (and my co-workers) job duties. I was now juggling tasks that had been handled by three separate individuals. In April I got engaged and began planning a wedding for October in my future husband's home state, a 1,000 miles away. In August I found a lump in my breast and was diagnosed with breast cancer the same weekend the invitations arrived from the printer. Fortunately I became a patient at a world recognized research facility, but it was still a crazy, stressful time. Between August and October I was diagnosed, packed my apartment, moved to my fiance's house, arranged a wedding reception for 150 people, had surgery and worked full time. In November I began chemotherapy. By the end of 2000 my weight was up to 213 pounds. I finished chemo in January 2001. A month later I started five weeks of radiation therapy. I continued to work full time, often 70+ plus hours a week. Despite winning multiple “key contributor” awards that year, I was given my first “unsatisfactory” performance review and told that as soon as my radiation therapy had finished, I should’ve been able to get back to my old service numbers. I was constantly stressed, sleeping sometimes just four hours a night - terrified that I’d lose my job and hence my insurance coverage. Couple with my new job duties as a “wife” I threw in the diet towel and ate whatever I wanted. By the end of 2001, I was 252 and 2002 added another 31 pounds - 283. In 2003 I was diagnosed with Type II diabetes and not surprisingly, due to the radiation to my chest, my thyroid had shut down. The job stress was incredible . My territory was supposed to be staffed by four people, but despite numerous promises from corporate that additional staff would be hired, I continued to hear that management didn’t feel we needed additional staff , since, I, "managed it all so well”. When once again my recommendations were ignored and resulted in a loss to the company in excess of 1M, I realized that I was just wearing myself out for nothing. My husband and I discussed it and as it looked like his company was going to transfer us to New York in 2004(actually took until 2005) we decided it would be best for me to quit before it killed me. Following my early “retirement” I enrolled in a local hospital's Simple Success Weight Loss Program and lost 20 pounds over 8 week period. Over the last seven years, my weight has averaged between 253-267. I can manage weight loss for a limited time, but stress leads me to binge eating. I find myself haunted by memories of my childhood and sometimes wonder if I’m not stuffing myself to stuff down the painful memories. I am the primary “homemaker” and find that everything from paying bills, to housework, to family obligations are my resonsibility. I have minimal down time and often find my days are just as long now, serving my family, as it was when I worked full-time. I jokingly say that I “gave up” one of my jobs - now I can’t figure out how I managed to work the hours I used to and do all that I do now?!? Nevertheless, not working has created a gap in my life socially and for my husband and I financially. I need to get back in the work force, but I’m afraid to get out there at this size. In the South, where I'm from, people are a little more gentile, a little less willing to pick on someone for their weight. I’ve found since I’ve moved to New York, that people, even strangers, will very directly comment on someone’s weight. I’ve had a neighbor snub me then very loudly comment on my weight and make disparaging remarks to other neighbors. I’ve had business professionals I contact on behalf of my charity work feel free to comment. I even had a medical professional at Memorial Sloan-Kettering harass me to the point I left the clinic in the middle of an MRI! I have had enough of dealing with and being defined by my weight, by being weighed in the balance and being found wanting because I’m too big. I’ve spent 32 years with issues related to food and my weight coloring every aspect of my life. I was able to overcome the short comings related to growing up in a physically and emotionally abusive home; going on to have a productive professional career, a real family, and being an active member of my community. Despite numerous attempts to control my weight, this is one area in which I have failed repeatedly. I’ve been well-educated through nutritional counseling, and my own efforts to self-educate. I know the risks this extra weight puts on my overall health and I am already seeing the effects. Coupled with the social and emotional aspects of being “plus sized”, I feel like the “life” is gone from my life - that I’m avoiding doing more and more activities because I’m trapped in a body that doesn’t feel like mine. When I dream, I don’t look like this. I’m willing to make the changes needed to lose weight - I’ve done it before, but I need a partner(so to speak) to help me down the long road back to being me.

Reasons for Weight Loss Surgery Part 1 I was a normal weight child and very active - a “Tomboy”. My home life at best was dysfunctional , at worst, physically and emotionally abusive. Food and access to food was controlled by my mother. You ate what was put on your plate and if you didn’t finish by the time everyone else had, you sat there until you did. Didn’t finish? Your plate was put in the refrigerator and served again at breakfast and again until you ate it. You were not allowed to help yourself to something to eat in between meals and there were no “after school snacks” unless I had a friend over. When I had company, treats like milk and cookies were offered but I knew better than to have any - as soon as the other child had gone home, I’d be castigated for having eaten the “treats” which were “just for company“. I was also schooled not to accept any snacks at a playmates’ house. If by chance the other parent mentioned to my mother that, “the kids had a snack of…“ as soon we got home I would be punished. Food and the withholding of food figured prominently in our disciplining. Poor grade on a test - I was sent to my room to await my father’s return from work. At which point I would be beaten with a belt and sent to bed with no dinner. Accused of “back talking” - sent to my room to write 1,000 sentences; “I will not back talk” - and provided an apple and a glass of milk per day until the task was completed. My mother designated food as belonging to certain people; “your father’s cookies”, “my ice cream”. To ensure my brothers and I didn’t, “steal” or “sneak” food, it was often hidden. When I was 9 or 10, my younger brother already had a weight problem so to ensure neither of us were eating outside of my mother’s control, we were locked in our rooms at night. Mealtime was itself was a miserable experience. My father would come home from work to down a pitcher of martinis and as my mother would harangue about a variety of issues, we would sit down to dinner. To deflect my father’s anger away from her, my mother would pick a scapegoat. Usually, it was me. Both of my parents made it clear from the time I was a small child that they hadn’t wanted a daughter, thus I was fair game for humiliation for any shortcomings ranging from a poor grade or a messy room to not being invited to a party. More often than not the verbal abuse would denigrate to being slapped, punched or dragged by my hair from the room before being beaten with a belt. I learned to eat fast and get away from the table as quickly as possible. At age 13, my mother became concerned that I was getting, “too fat” and took me to the pediatrician for my annual physical. The doctor assured her my weight was normal and that I was developing into a woman. As we left the doctor’s office my mother told me that she, “Didn’t care what the doctor said - you’re going on a diet!“. I tend to recall that day as the day my problems with food really started. My mother was an expert dieter - 5’6’’ and no more than 118 pounds ever. Extremely proud that at the birth of her last child, my second brother, she’d gained no weight, her eating habits were poor: coffee and a cigarette for breakfast, a weight loss shake for lunch, minimal servings of whatever we had for dinner, followed by a large serving of frozen yogurt for dessert. Following the fateful doctor visit, the focus on my weight became excruciating as did the rules. No bread, no dessert, breakfast of coffee and orange juice only. My lunch was packed for me daily and was the same thing - dry tuna, an apple, a thermos of skim milk. Dinner was portioned out by my mother - no seconds allowed. We did not celebrate my birthday one year as I was “too fat”. Now in high school, the control over my eating extended to my personal life. My mother went though my drawers, reading notes from friends, refusing to allow me to drive, or work, putting me on social restrictions for months. Despite this I was a solid B+ student, class officer and involved in numerous clubs and school organizations. At home the physical and verbal abuse continued; I had, “thunder thighs”, “whale lips”, “piano legs”. I chose a college five hours away from home. While I quickly got the hang of college life, the availability of food was something I wasn’t used to. I joined at sorority and lived in the house. We were provided with three meals a day and it certainly wasn’t the narrow selections offered to me a home. Other girls were eating bread and dessert - it wasn’t long before I was eating like everyone else. I was 118 pounds when I left home and 133 when I came home for Thanksgiving my freshman year. My mother was furious and refused to speak to me again after advising me that if I wasn’t down to 118 by Christmas, there’d be no presents. I wasn’t and there weren’t. When I came home for the summer break that year I was up to 156. This time I was advised that it was too humiliating to be for her to been seen in public with a “pig” and that if I wasn’t 120 by the time it was time to return to school there would be no new clothes. That summer passed with her indirect references to me as “her”, “she” and “it”, using other family members to communicate as necessary. I came home from my summer job on my birthday to find my parents had left that day for a beach vacation with my brothers. The note left indicated that no one wanted me to go as it was too embarrassing to be seen with someone as “disgusting” as me. I left for college that fall - 123 pounds but no new clothes as I weighed “too much”. I haven’t worn shorts or a bathing suit since then. (Continued...)

Great article by Melissa Healy(LA Times) - Eating away at binge disorders - a must read! Several quotes in her article really struck home with me: "...Overwhelming feelings of sadness, anger or stress trigger episodes of eating unusually large quantities of food, often when she's not at all hungry..." "...childhood traumas that may drive binge eating and other self-destructive behaviors..." When I was going through breast cancer treatment (10 yr survivor!) I was blessed to be treated at the Mayo Clinic. Their approach was comprehensive - whole body/whole person. I went through therapy and dealt with some of my childhood issues - apparently not as successfully as one would hope as I managed to gain 83 pounds in three years! Nevertheless, one thing my therapist commented on was that she was surprised given my experiences, I hadn't become an anorexic, alcoholic or drug user. I often wonder how many of us out here battling our weight have been using food to comfort ourselves or stuff down our pain or loneliness?

Just got an email from a family friend who had the procedure at Ellis(same place I'm using). She's an RN and her comment was that this was the "best thing" she's ever done and has lost 65 pounds. She says she feels good and is traveling and being far more active than she's been in years. Can't argue with those sentiments. I chose the lap-band because I'm not comfortable with the malabsorbtion issues and because I am a breast cancer survivor(10 Years!) and if I ever had a recurrance I know I'd need additional nutrition/calories in the face of chemo & radiation. I think what's been most frustrating over the years especially following nutrition counseling has been knowing what to eat, how much, the importance of having no forbidden foods, portion control and still continuing to eat too much. I'm more and more convinced that the lap-band will allow me(eventually) to eat like a normal person and not focus so much on food.

As part of the pre-assessment for my surgeon, I had to write an "essay" regarding why I wanted to have bariatric surgery. I grew up in a physically and emotionally abusive home where food was restricted as either a control or punishment and there was a push to always be perfect - appearance, grades, right college... Writing that essay forced me to really focus on the underlying issues of my weight problem. Issues that I've covered over by being successful in my career, building my own family, not being like my parents - but never really addressed. A commited behavioral health professional is a blessing even if your life seems in synch - one who really isn't skilled or in the profession for the right reasons can be damaging. I've already started looking for a real counselor to help me work through the past - it sure won't be the gal who was only interested in ticking off the required items with her hand out for my check!

Three month wait - are you kidding?!? I'm going through Ellis Hospital(Schnectady, NY) - they assigned the surgery date and time at my first meeting with the PA which was 1/14/10. My surgery is set for 3/10/10. Of course when I checked with the case manager she'd yet to submit it to BCBS for approval...she's waiting on the test results from next weeks' whirlwind of UGI, Cardio, sleep Lab & Nutritionist...so maybe it won't be 3/10... Let's say I'm 75% sure I'm going to do it. I'm not going to kid myself - I've done the diet-lose-gain+ crapola too many times to count. I know proper portioning and I cook 95% from scratch(WW Cookbooks are #1) but I overeat, stress eat, boredom eat and I'll need that physical push back to actually make progress.

My surgeon's office gave me a list of four psychologists and I didn't think to ask if I could choose a provider on my own. My bariatric center is 45 minutes away, so I chose the counselor who was closest. What a ding-dong! She was late, locked herself out of her office and couldn't finish the consult in the alotted time so she had to call me at home several days later!? Her biggest concern - how she was getting paid for her time. I wasn't too surprised to hear that someone in my support group had a similar experience with her and got the similar recommendation - "Attend two support group meetings prior to surgery". Take it for what it's worth - it's really just to weed out someone who is doing this for the wrong reasons(to please a spouse...) and someone with obvious psychological issues. Frankly I always thought that my ability to eat a whole large pizza on my own made me a psycho - guess not!:scared2:

So..after this morning's post I'm off to run errands while pondering my decision. As I walk into Walmart I notice the obese gentleman sitting in his van in the fire lane trying to muster the energy to get out. Hmm - that could be me in a few years I think. In the store I see two very obese ladies having to shop using the motorized carts - in one case the cart's motor is grinding so bad it sounds like a cat stuck in a mailbox. Once again, I think to myself, that could be me sometime down the road. Off to the pet food aisle and as I heave a 20+ pound of dog chow into my cart one-handed and older gentleman comments something to the effect of, "You get around pretty good for a big girl!" Gee - thanks! All kidding aside, I know my own strengths and weakness(clearly Good Eats is one) and have always tried to avoid judging someone solely on their appearance. But with this decision weighing on my mind, it made me more focused today. I noticed all the people shopping who were clearly struggling with their weight and in a number of cases their health was clearly on the downswing. I'm in relatively good health and I have to opportunity to add a tool to my arsenal so that someday a much smaller me will heave that dog food bag and the only comment will be that I'm pretty strong for a woman!:scared2:

I hear you! I am very lucky in that I volunteer in the nutrition center of my local hospital so the RD's are behind me all the way. My husband on the other hand while not unsupportive is of the "if you just tried harder..." school of thought(he doesn't have a weight problem and hasn't battled it for 20+ years). I was going to keep my surgery to myself as we live in a small town with a big gossip problem, but I felt that I probably should tell the family. BIG mistake - and one you'd think I'd have foreseen considering my sister-in-law has blabbed every confidence any friend has told her. I didn't even get to inform my mother-in-law before blabber-mouth called to tell her. Now everyone knows and feels compelled to ask the What? Why? and recount the "OMG I Heard...Horror Story". And the diet sabotage has begun...last week it was a family birthday dinner at the Outback that I just HAD to go to(per my s-i-l) - didn't. Today it's a phone message from the monster-in-law..."Family dinner tomorrow night...I know you're on your little diet, but maybe you can bring your special food..." - NOT! I'm sending the hubs and renting a movie - saving myself from an evening of BS Q&A! Like most women I do most things for others i.e. the family - But this journey I'm doing for me:thumbup:

My surgery is 3/10. When I had my initial meeting with the surgeron's PA I was told that a "MediFast" diet was required 2 weeks prior to surgery. Four shakes plus 5oz protein and 1 & 1/2 cups veg. My starting weight at the first appt - 279. My pre-surgery goal weight - 252. I was 263 on 1/29 when I had to meet with the "MediFast Nurse" - six weeks prior to surgery. They wanted me to start the MediFast diet then - to lose 11 pounds?! I have had an indirect calorimeter done at my local hospital which indicated I need about 1900 cal to maintain my weight; about 1200-1500 to lose about 2 pounds a week. A week in to this diet I had severe allergic reactions so I called the nurse. She tells me that I can use Slimfast or other low-carb/high protein shake mixes, "that's what the people who can't afford MediFast use"?! and that this diet phase it like Adkins - 70+grams of protein a day and less than 65 carbs being the goal. Incidentally my actual CT's are being done next week - so my liver has yet to be examined in any way. I'm ravenous and ready to call my doc for an rx for an appetite supressor! :thumbup:

My first meeting with the nutritionist is next week; my surgery is 3/10. Last week the "Medifast" nurse reviewed the pre-surgical diet (basically 4 Medifast Shakes & one meal of 5 oz of protein plus a cup and a half of veggies for about 500 calories a day) with me and told me to start. Since I'm 8 pounds from the weight my surgeon wants it's a bit of overkill. Nevertheless the reason for the pre-surgical diet is to help shrink the liver to make it easy to manipulate the laproscopic tools and because the less you weigh before any surgery the safer it is. Every doctor is different but I think most limit this to a two week period prior to the surgery.:thumbup: