What pre-ops need to understand about loose skin

I posted this to my blog today -- but I figured it bore saying here (hopefully "bore" is not the operative word !): __________________

It's something that I myself didn't comprehend at all until pretty recently, and I say that as someone who's got plenty of the stuff. Loose skin, that is. Pre-op and until the last month or so I thought, "Okay, so after WLS and rapid, major weight loss, we'll have loose skin. Big deal. We were fat before; now we'll have some flab and folds in exchange for a thinner, healthier body. Everything's a trade-off -- why do people get so tense about it? It's worth it!" Well, I was right about that last part. It is worth it. Definitely. And I did understand that, depending on how much weight one has to lose, excess skin can pose health and logistical problems at the end of the line that will need to be corrected with reconstructive surgery. But the great big secret that I didn't understand as a pre-op? (Post-ops would touch upon this in posts on message boards, but they didn't go into detail, so I didn't get it -- and actually, I don't know that you can really get it until you're there.) After a certain point (and it's going to vary from person to person depending on [re-op starting weight and pounds lost), our deflated skin assumes vastly different properties from the skin we had when it was stretched over the fat we used to carry. To compare the two different kinds of skin is like comparing apples and oranges. At least when we were fat, something (er, that would be the fat itself) supported the skin, held it up, gave it something to wrap around, so to speak. After rapid weight loss, however, it's truly like letting air out of a big balloon that's been inflated for a long time: the elasticity is gone, and the skin is just -- there in this kind of frighteningly inert way. It just lies there, limp, almost as if it were dead and in the post-rigor phase. I'm not talking about literal necrosis here, of course, but the major head-trip is that the skin begins to feel like a separate entity appended to your body -- not truly part of it or of you at all. And that's a damn freaky feeling, I can tell you. Frankly, I only fully understood this whole syndrome this morning as I was shimmying into my Spanx control panty undergarment. I was having trouble getting into it and this puzzled me because I bought it at least 20 pounds ago. It couldn't be too small for me, I thought, and then decided that I simply must not have dried myself off thoroughly after my shower and dampness was making the process difficult. I grabbed a towel, redid the job, and tried again. Shimmy. Tug. Shimmy. Tug. No go. Sighing, I peeled the garment down and began putting on as if it were a pair of panty hose instead of just tugging it on over myself as I would a pair of underpants. You know, getting into it, tugging it up in phases, making sure each segment has been pulled up and smoothed before you adjust the next segment -- and that's when I realized what was going on. I was having to stuff my extra skin into the Spanx garment, almost as if I were tucking the excess fabric of a shirt into the waistband of a pair of pants. It's not that the garment didn't fit -- it's the the extra skin just lay there like dead weight and had to be pushed and dragged into place. Um .... EEEEWWWW! Seriously, EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! I assure you that the freak factor was not how ugly my loose skin looks but rather how I feel in it when it's not functioning the way it used to. I mean, intellectually I understood before why people would choose reconstructive surgery following massive weight loss, but I understood it only superficially. I didn't understand that living with excess skin might feel similar to living with a necrotic limb or a giant cyst! Now, does this mean I'm racing out to consider plastics? No, I'm still desperately hoping that a) I won't want it; b) I'll adjust over time; c) my hernia will not require repair so that I won't be faced with a choice of doing a tummy tuck and abdominoplasty at the same time. I do not want more surgery. But the freak factor was high today.

   Someone should publsh your writing.....no, i'm serious you had me standing there looking at you go through all of this.  I love to read your writing.

Thanks, Evelyn (and yay on seeing Dr. Roslin!) My grandfather and mother were writers, and I guess I am, too, in that I'm published in academic journals.  Eventually, however, I'd like to publish some non-academic writing for the mass market. (Maybe after I get tenure, hopefully in 5 years ... then I can do what I want!)

Why wait - NaNoWriMo starts November 1st. --BT

What's NaNoWriMo??? My work schedule as a starting assistant professor is so heavy that I can't even do the academic writing I'm supposed to -- only other writing I do is blogging because it relaxes me and keeps me sane! Er. semi-sane.

I was just talking to a friend today about her coming swimming in my pool next spring.  I remembered someone posting months ago about the "mushroom" syndrome when they got in water, I can't remember who.  I can only imagine what the loose skin is like in water, I will probably look like a manatee or some weird type of jellyfish We decided we will use the skin as a flotation device, just trap some air under it and float all day!

I absolutely LOVE manatees! They are the sweetest creatures. Their skin feels very smooth, even though by looking at it, the texture looks  rough. I swim with them quite often and happen to think they are beautiful - and cute. Besides, they are very near-sighted and if you stay still in the water, they think you are one of them!

Skin as a floatation device...mmmm. I noticed that the skin may waddle under water, but my bouancy has decreased! Now, I actually have to move instead of just floating!

Dianne from FL

Dianne, You know, I never thought about the buoyancy going down but it only makes sense, the past summer I would get in the water and brag that I could float in any position without sinking, I was unsinkable!   And manatees are sweet creatures, I'm very jealous that you get to swim with them, they look like big underwater teddy bears!  I actually meant to say I would look like a stingray with my skin a flapping out like wings, don't know why I said manatee, because they have nice tight skin around the chub, lol!  I have really been having some duh! moments lately. 

I wholeheartedly agree!     Remember the movie Alien, and the guy who had an alien strapped to his face??    That's how I feel about the excess skin on my belly.    It's like this foreign entity has attached itself to my otherwise shrinking body.   I can even see the lines where my belly SHOULD be, when I pull the skin up/over/out of the way. The 'tucking it in' happens both with my belly & my boobs.  I'm sure my thighs also have that same process going on, but I largely ignore that as I put on jeans.

--BT

I have a consultation with Dr. Hurwitz on 9/28 to address the loose skin issue...it IS freaky, like having a deflated party doll glued to your body. I can fold my thighs over themselves, I wear a minimizer bra that squishes my extra breast tissue under my armpits, my extra stomach skin sits like a potbelly in my jeans, except that my hip bones stick out on the sides and sometimes it looks like I'm 4 months pregnant...the worst has got to be my pubic area...sorry if this is TMI, but it looks like I'm a transvestite hiding a package in my bathing suit and panties. I also believe the deflated weight and distribution is a major factor in my chronic neck and thoracic spine pain, it just feels like having a 10 pound bag of potatoes slung over my shoulders all the time. All the sit ups and collagen in the world won't make this go away. To be honest, it is a constant reminder of how big I used to be and like a scarlet "O" for obese that I literally wear on my arms for all the world to see and I hate being exposed!