OK, as long as you promise not to judge me, I'll let you in on it. I had Gastric Bypass surgery in January '10. My finger hovers over the backspace key. If everyone knows, they might disdain me for taking the "easy route". If everyone knows and I fail at this weight loss attempt too, the shame will be unbearable. If everyone knows, they might scrutinize my weight even more; they might wonder why I'm not thin yet. After all, it's been three months already.
My dilemma began about 2 years ago. No, that's not true. My first attempt at weight loss began at the tender age of 8. Since then, I have been systematically destroying my body's natural ability to lose weight with my yo-yo dieting. (Aging doesn't really help either, but I don't know that I'm ready to admit that yet.) You know how that is, right? Unless you happen to be one of the...lucky? disciplined? genetically superior?...15% of Americans with "normal" weight.
Anyway, 2 years ago, after suffering through a year of infertility I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome, or PCOS. The doc told me that losing weight would improve the condition, but that women with PCOS find it almost impossible to lose weight. (Ha! How's that for advice?) I decided to just try to eat healthy; you know, reduce consumption of processed foods, cut out most meats, drink more water, eat more fruits and veggies, yadda yadda. Surprise! It didn't work.
Then my fertility clinic gave me the fatal blow. They told me they could keep injecting me with hormones indefinitely, but that what would really improve my chances of conception was weight loss. By this time, I was frustrated, ashamed, depressed, angry. I gave up on fertility treatments. My weight kept climbing until I was back to the all-time high I had reached during the all-time low point of my life. The weight I had sworn to myself I would never, ever see again.
Desperate for a solution, I attended an informational seminar on Bariatric Surgery. I think that was an emotional low point for me. It felt like admitting defeat. Like admitting to weakness of character. But I kept remembering my grandmother's eulogy, where the presiding minister mentioned her "obvious love of food". I might be able to avoid that if I get help now.
It's been 11.5 weeks since my surgery. I have a stomach pouch that holds 4 fluid oz. of food at a time, and a shortened small intestine that hinders absorption. I also ended up with an ulcer that severely limits protein intake. If I indulge in my drug of choice, sugar, I become violently ill. I'm still struggling emotionally with the realization that I can't eat "normally". At least once a week I experience intense regret that I made this decision. Easy way out? Not by a long shot.
To date, I've lost 60 of the 100 pounds I needed to lose before surgery. Some people are just starting to notice that something is different about me. I get asked if I did something different with my hair. Sure! I put it on a thinner face.
