ObesityHelp

My surgeon Dr. Karl LeBlanc mentioned last week that a good measurement of progress in the first month would be losing 8-10 percent of my body weight. I think I have the 8 percent down, but I would like to make that 10 percent mark.

I'm in a much better condition since last week this time. I turned a corner last weekend and got a little extra rest. I got my gallbladder taken out and liquids are giving me more intestinal angst so I was battling dehydration. I stepped firmly into mushies and had a lot of fish (tuna salad, grilled tuna, salmon, mahi-mahi, sushi) last week and that helped me more than protein drinks which are running straight through me.

I have 4.4 pounds to reach the 30-pounds since surgery  mark, but my ticker includes my loss during the preop diet. Dr. LeBlanc isn't buying that into his equation.



I think some walking and sipping will help this ticker reach the goal.  I appreciate the prayer and support.

I'm two weeks postop after my revision to the gastric sleeve. I've lost about 25 pounds counting the preop diet and the first two weeks.

I need to concentrate on getting more food and water and less work. I'm a work-a-holic big time.

Create Your Own!

I spent most of yesterday in a storm -- literally. I'm at the ObesityHelp convention in Lexington after nearly an entire day watching grounded planes and seeing storm clouds go by. I found this journey so symbolic of my weight loss journey (and my life) that I didn't mind the delays, wet baggage and lack of sleep.

After a nearly two-hour delay in Baton Rouge, we headed out for Houston knowing that there was a monster storm hovering over most of southeast Texas. The storm was so big and dangerous, that the air traffic navigators were sending the planes on an "S" curve around it. This took nearly two more hours in the air. At maximum flying height, I discovered what it means to be taken out of a storm and allowed to ride side-by-side with it and view its beauty and force at the same time.

The pictures above show a storm the size of a mountain range. Lightning bolts and dark, rolling clouds put on one heck of a show. I took my camera out because I felt safe. Afterall, I had another persepective of this storm.

For two years, I've been riding in this storm. I get up, I get knocked back down, but I get up again. What some may see as slow weight loss progress, I choose to see as survival and life more abundantly.

The one thing I choose to remember about weighing 350 pounds is that life and death were daily considerations. I was not yet 40, but I had seen numerous surgeries, ICU units and buried babies whose coffins were little more than decorated shoe boxes. Life was good, but not abundant and there was litte hope for a long, happy existence.

Now, two years later, I love my size 18 jeans and fun-loving endurance, but most of all, I love the second chance that the Lord has extended to me.

Being removed from this storm for a moment of majesty, I viewed my progress and pain as a spectator. I see the challenge and I see the struggle, but I know I'm safe -- I'm only riding through the storm.