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Daddy, you just made me cry. I realize the grass is always greener on the other side, but I want to trade my husband in for you. I don't know any guy that talks/writes the way you do. It's what I crave. I'm lucky to get a two-syllable grunt out of my husband. Usually just one "ugg" is all I get.

And for the record, I the food isn't secretly killing me. It has no problem killing me publicly.

Not long ago I had a mental breakdown over a stupid Weight Watchers scale. I started crying because after a lifetime of dieting, I couldn't do one more measure, weight, food diary, etc. I wanted to die, so I did the right thing and called the emergency help line that is on a magnet on the fridge (must have come with my insurance card.) I'll have to look up the true meaning of "crisis" because the "Crisis Line" made me an appointment with a counselor... three weeks away. Gee, should I hold the noose for three weeks? So I waited for the appointment.

When I met the new counselor, I asked, "what would you do if I told you I was killing myself tonight." And she turned white and jumped to the edge of her chair, reached for the phone and said, "I'm sorry but I'm forced to call the authorities." When she realized I didn't have a gun to my head, she relaxed a tad and asked how I was going to kill myself. I said, "Oh, I'm already killing myself by eating myself to death, because I have high cholesterol, high blood pressure, heart murmer, anxiety disorder, GERD, reflux, and a history of stroke and diabetes."

She took one, big sign of relief, put down the phone, and sunk back into her chair. I told her I was holding her personally responsible for my life, and she just shucked it off like I just described a hang nail or an eyelash in my eye.

Needless to say I never went back. I did write a novel to my insurance company, thanking them for caring so much, but they never responded.

I just dig it that you responded... just what I needed. What movie is your wife watching over and over, and does she wanna share those drugs? I want to "not know" stuff right now.

What kinda uniform? Please don't say fireman... that would put me over the edge.

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Whippleddaddy..I have to giggle at your post about Patty and her fentanyl induced stupor..I go through the same thing every single night. My hubby watches the same thing over and over..please do not take offense to my laughing it is not directed at Patty but your situation is so simliar to mine. We tease my hubby all the time about his TV addiction and watching the same things over and over. That Fentanyl must be some knarly stuff huh? But it makes them comfotable in their pain and thats what matters right?

Your post to Delarla is so kind..you are such a tender man and great with words. I was just talking with Delarla and she did have a rough go of tonight I hoped talking with her helped her . but the strangest thing happened to me ..I did too have a bad food choice , tonight was the FIRST night since being banded that I ate 3 bites of a brownie and 3 bites of ice cream I had this horrible sweet tooth that I had to satisfy. I felt so damn guilty and wanted to cry or make myself get sick but knew that was not wise with the band but Delarla put my mind at ease and reminded me it was a bandster portion size and not like what I would use to eat so I feel so much better..THANKS DELARLA.

Thanks to you too Whippleddaddy (what is your real name by the way) even though your post was addressed to Delarla it has comforted me also and I sure many other who will read it .

P.S. Patty is a lucky woman to have you !

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Sometimes we forget the good stuff and eat. Here my Kitty is walking all over my lap, across my head, on my shoulders, and I pushed him away to reach for the Pringles. My dogs are at my feet begging for affection. I just remembered that I need to pick up Kitty, who I've had since before I ever met my husband 13 years ago. It used to be just me and Kitty, yet I push him away for Pringles when all he wants to do is show me how much he loves me? I'm taking my fur babies to the living room to watch TV now. Thanks for chatting with me Michelle... I had my big glass of Water and won't eat any more tonight. xoxo to you all!

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DeLarla, your story about the crisis line is so true, and, unfortunately it is that way in other places. My wife became suicidal over her seemingly endless battle with pain. It took a while for us to find someone who really cared. It was worth the look, and the wait, but why does a person ready to kill themselves have to wait?

You know you're in trouble when the suicide prevention line answers the phone with the message: Listen carefully as our automated phone options have changed:

I wear a white shirt, black pants, and black hat. I am a supervisor in food service in a prison. After thirty six years of being a chef, souschef, and executive chef, I needed a job that let me have some time to take care of my wife. This job does that, and the benefits help take care of her too. It was a humongous cut in pay, but what's my time worth?

Not everyone can find the keys to eloquence. But everyone is eloquent in their own way. Your husband loves you. He tells you a thousand different ways. He just doesn't use words. He can't. You'll have to look for the signs, make it a game.

La Madam. My name is: Ryan Webster. Yep, just like the dictionary.

I agree that your portion size does not seem detrimental. I would have eaten three PANS of brownies, and three CARTONS of ice cream. Then I would have looked around for a little something to fill up the corners. It is possible that when the Doc goes in to do my lap he'll find the entrance to a black hole, bent on swallowing the universe and the darkness after.

The Dura Gesic Fentanyl patch makes life easier on the patient, but it can wreak havoc on the family. Does it make your mate cranky? My wife gets a deplorable case of patch mouth, especially when she's at a high dose (like right now 150).

Thank you both for the kind words about my writing. I have always been a frustrated writer who was too chicken to try to do it professionally. So, if I should write well, it's because of a lifetime of practice, practice, practice.

I'd get the band now if for no other reason than it would put me in the company of wonderful people like you two.

Tonight's movie is "About Schmidt". Good movie. The first couple of times. I can now recite it by rote. When I'm not on the computer I keep a book handy. Others that we've watched nearly one hundred times, all for the first time each time, are:

Fried Green Tomatoes.

Steel Magnolias

Pretty Woman

Fire Down Below

An Officer and A Gentleman

28 Days

Two Weeks Notice

Stand By Me

The Green Mile

and many more.

Take care, both of you, and all you other Bandsters who read this. Be kind to yourselves. Don't hold yourselves up to too strict a ruler. Don't expect yourselves to be perfect. Where's the fun in that?

Instead tell yourself some good things about yourself. How you keep it together against unbelieveable odds. How you run families riddled with grief and sorrow. How you face the tears, trials and terrors of each day with a smile and a flip of the hair. How you do the little things that must be done. How you exhibit courage in just functioning each day.

No one ever said that being courageous meant the same thing as being fearless. If you are unafraid, you need no courage.

Don't punish yourselves for being human, if you need a hug and no one's there, hug yourself. Why not? Better yet come on line and get a cyber hug, though I hate those parenthetic thingies called hugs.

DeLarla, I hope you don't distress too much over your feeding frenzy. You can do this. You can win.

Same for you, La Madam, be as kind to yourself as you are to everyone else. Give your hubby a kiss and a hug. I'll do the same for my girl.

It will be Okay in the end. If it's not okay. It's not the end.

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Ryan,

Your post read like a well written novel. I find myself imagining you wife and how well you love her. I think that you have missed what many of us do. Our calling. I personaly would by any book that you would take the time to write. You have a gental since of humor that is as I think you said so elegant. My husband is a wonderful and caring poet. I fell in love with him for the same reason that I am sure your beloved loves you. Your soul was meant to share.

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Quote "How you run families riddled with grief and sorrow. How you face the tears, trials and terrors of each day with a smile and a flip of the hair"

Nice write, Ryan, but I'm more of a finger flipper than a hair flipper!

You got me laughing... it's safe to go to sleep now. Thanks for that. Good stuff.

Oh, I hope you simply forgot to add these movies, but just in case, please run and buy them immediately:

hair

Lorenzo's Oil

Shawshank Redemption

Silkwood

My Life

Not necessarily in that order, but get them because they belong on that list!

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Wow!!! I just read all 5 pages of this post.

Ryan, I am not sure if you should be a writer or a therapist. Maybe both!

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Ya...I just read all 5 too!You should write a love story and incorporate some of your true life stories...let me know when it comes out!:)

C

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I just read this amazing thread, and just want to WELCOME you, Ryan, to LBT. It's wonderful to have you here, and I ain't just whistlin' Dixie.

My husband is a chef, too, and reached the same conclusion you did about the hours. During one of our very early conversations when we met, he told me of his years working at restaurants and country clubs. But at age 32 he'd quit and took a job at a delicatessen, because he realized he was missing his life while working evenings, weekends, and holidays. My reaction was "wow, you're going to make someone a wonderful husband someday."

Little did I realize then that that someone would be me. People like him, and you, restore my faith in the human race. :)

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Yeah it's true, this thread in particular is better than the soaps! It has humor, romance, philosophy, advice, and one heck of a story line. No wonder I can't get anything done! BTW, I also have been pigging out. I was starting to get scared, but then I read all those true life confessions and now I feel normal again. Thanks everyone!

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Thank you all for inspiring me. I have had only two surgeries in my life, and those were a long time ago. One when I was nine and one when I was thirty two.

Listening to you guys comforts me. When I finally get my surgery date and then go to get the band, I'll rest easier for reading the posts on this forum.

Ummmmm. You should read my profile. I do have one novel published. It's not the kind that would lend itself to this forum though. It's a horror novel. And no, it's not a true story! I've got an agent, but she's new, and well........

I'm always sorry when we lose a chef to a sensible life. Alexandra tell your hubby he's doing the right thing. I'm still looking for someone who has met a chef at a party, or gathering. They aren't there because they're cooking. We are an invisible lot. Some make it big on TV, but when they do that they aren't chefs anylonger. Just people in white coats.

I don't know if I could write a book about this stuff. It's hard, you know. What it's like to be fat. The stares, the jokes, kids pointing, the health issues. I often think that if other diseases could be so readily identified then everyone would have a different story to tell. I mean you can spot a fat person in any crowd. They're the jolly ones, right? But what if alchoholics were a bright lime green. I mean ground effects colors, and you could spot it a mile away. What if sex addicts were a day glo pink color that stood out on the gloomiest day. At the beach you would know to stay away from them!

What if drug addicts really did get high? Like about three feet off the ground all the time. Then it'd be different.

But that isn't the case, is it? Nope. Fat people can be spotted just as easily as people of other races, or people with physical challenges. I mean, you can tell somebody's in a wheelchair. They can't hide it.

And, this is the real gasser, it's not okay to be prejudiced against the drug addict, the sexual offender, the alchoholic, the physically impaired, or the other races. But it is perfectly acceptable to be prejudiced against fat people.

Caring loving individuals who would never tell a racist joke, or a joke about mental retardation, or a joke making fun of a crippled person will not even flinch at a fat joke. "Hey, my Mother In Law was visiting a farm, she tripped and left a crop circle."

I know all these things, but I don't know if I can get as down and personal I would need to. A book must be the truth. Even fiction must be the truth in some fashion. I would have to dig into some pretty dark and scary places inside of me, and I don't know if I have that courage.

I mean, I was thin until that summer when......................my babysitter and her sadistic brother started,,,well, can you guess?

I would have to face that time, and I don't know if I want to.

But I will say this. If such a thing should ever happen, you all would be the first to know. Six or eight of you would get a rough copy to read and mark up and send back. And I'd find a way to have it benefit all who suffer beneath the adipose tissue. Because I have a feeling that, even after losing the weight, that person inside remembers, and the suffering eases, but never wholly stops.

But, in the meantime, I'll take pleasure in being here, among all you beautiful souls with hearts full of caring, and souls full of sharing. I'll take heart from the weight loss stories, and I'll keep reading how you've lost and are still losing.

And, because of you all, I shall find and keep that treasure that has driven every facet of mankind since the dawn of time. I'll recieve, from you and this lap band system, that special thing that makes it possible to go on. Of course I speak of magic, great magic, and the most magical thing of all........HOPE.

I hope I will get approved. I hope I still have time to reverse the damage I have done to my body. I hope I shall be as courageous as all of you bandsters and really go through with it, and not wussy out at the last second.

I hope. And because I hope. I thank you all.

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