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Surgeon Testimonial Daniel Davis, M.D. Dr. Daniel Davis is my hero! Dr. Davis is a skilled, laproscopic surgeon. He handled my unusual case with determination and superior ability. His bedside manner is kind, friendly, and professional. Because of his confidence in handling difficult cases, I felt I was in expert hands with Dr. Davis. After consulting with 5 different surgeons, none of whom were confident they could take-down an old Kuzmak gastric band, a friend suggested I pursue THE BEST surgeon in the area from NY Presbyterian at Columbia. I'm sure glad I did! I have recovered nicely and am losing weight easily. Dr. Davis' practitioner, Gio Dugay, gives me the attention and care I need. When I was hospitalized post op practitioner Gio Dugay was at my bedside as often as possible, Dr. Davis, Dr.Bessler and their team worked super hard to ensure my recovery. Dr. Davis' administrative assistant, Kristen, administrator of their office in Ridgewood, NJ was friendly and on the ball! I give this surgical team the highest possible rating for expertise in handling difficult cases like mine and patients in general. They are truly the BEST!.................... {{My first WLS was perfomed by Dr. Lubomyr Kuzmak who gave me one of the first Adjustable Gastric Bands in 1988. I required a revision in 1993. Both the initial gastric banding and the revision were done with full, OPEN surgical incisions that left me full of adhesions and scar tissue.rnAfter AGB (Adjustable Gastric Banding) surgery I realized that Dr. Kuzmak did not fully explain the nature of how the lap band supposedly decreases food intake. I was told I would feel \"full\" or \"satisfied\" after eating a small amount of food. Instead, after eating or drinking even a tiny amount of anything,rnI immediately felt the need to vomit.rnDr. Kuzmak told me to AVOID eating or drinking soft foods because the wholernpoint of the operation was to eat dense foods thatrnI would not be able to tolerate so that I would eat only a forkful or so for any given meal.rnEven that forkful would not stay down and I rnvomitted for a year after the initial gastric banding until my insides were so inflamed, the band had to be replaced.rnI believe that Dr. Kuzmak failed to provide referrals to professionals who could address rnthe cure of my compulsive over eating. Dr. Kuzmak rninsisted on keeping my band super tight because he told me I was a \"poor candidate\" for surgery to begin with and would most likely defeat the surgery. Dr. Kuzmak reprimanded me for not losing weight atrnthe expected pace. He retired without referring me to a surgeon who might be willing to reverse the band (thoughrnthe reversibility of the operation was onernof its selling points). When I contacted Dr. Bertha, the surgeon who supposedly adopted Kuzmak's practice, he was unwilling to even see me for a consult.}}.....................................rnrnDr. Davis had the complex task of 'taking down' the old AGB installed by Kuzmak. Although I was on the operating table for longer than anticipated, Dr. Davis was able to keep me closed and complete the surgery laproscopically! Dr. Davis performed the 'take down' and the Bypass that has helped me to save my own life. I believe Dr. Davis is one of the few surgeons in this country who could have handled my case successfully.rn Member Interests
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Lisa is the author of TheSkinnyOnline.Blogspot.com following her daily struggles to recover from a severe binge eating disorder, morbid obesity and depression. She shares her real life experience about her fight for life after Gastric Bypass surgery (RNY August 16th 2006) in a world that shuns and shames the morbidly obese.
My Story I've always wanted to be lean, strong and healthy. Well, sorta. A more honest statement would be: I've always wanted to be thin and pretty. I dress it up in the more respectable phrase - lean, strong and healthy. That's what I would recommend to a client, or student, or friend. I would recommend that they lose weight and/or get in shape for the sake of their health and well-being. I would try to convince them that "if you have your health..." or however that old cliche goes. But when it comes to pinpointing my own dreams and my own goals...I'm full of crap. I want to be thin and pretty. Health is nice. Universe, I 'm grateful for my health. Please don't try to teach me a lesson by somehow taking my health away so I that I can learn to appreciate it. I DO I DO I DO appreciate my health. It's just that I would appreciate being thin and pretty so much more. Why? Dunno. Maybe I'm shallow. Or maybe I'm scarred. When someone suffers repeated, systematic abuse as a child, they're scarred for life. Look, being damaged is no excuse for bad behavior, but is trying to become thin and pretty really that bad?? It was my first criticism. I don't remember being 'wrong' or 'bad' about anything prior to my pediatrician telling my mother to switch me over to skim milk because I was overweight for my age and height. Did he ask about my activity level? No. Did he recommend more fruits, vegetables or lean protein? NO. With his irresponsible skim milk recommendation he started my mother down a slippery slope of imposed deprivation that contributed to my developing an eating disorder. My mother embarrassed me publicly. At social functions, while the other kids were enjoying dessert she would openly, loudly announce that I was on a diet and was not allowed to have any treats. I sat there like a freak, watching the other kids. If I sulked or showed any kind of disappointment, my mother would again embarrass me by asking me, openly and loudly, if I wanted to be fat like one of Cinderella's ugly step-sisters and if so, then GO AHEAD, have dessert. I would put my head down and she would announce to everyone, SEE SHE DOESN'T WANT TO BE FAT AND UGLY! On the rare occasions that I was allowed to visit a friend's house for play time or a birthday party, my mother would walk me to the door and tell the parent that I was not allowed to have any snacks, desserts or birthday cake because the doctor had put me on a diet. While the other kids enjoyed cake or ice cream or god forbid, a Twinkie, they would look at me with wide eyes as I sat there watching them and feeling left out. Even when the adults took pity on me and told me it was a special occasion, that it was alright to have 'just a little piece,' I would refuse, not out of discipline, but out of fear of my mother. She would grill me afterward. She would put me on the spot and ask if I had indulged in any of the forbidden food. I believe I DID slip up one time. I remember it vaguely. One of the mothers had convinced me to have 'just a little piece' and I did. She was an adult after all, an authority figure. If she said it was alright then it must be. When I admitted this to my mother during her post-visit grilling she became enraged. How dare I let some other woman override her edict. What was the matter with me? Who the hell was so-and-so's mother to give me permission to eat cake? Did I want to go live with THOSE people instead? Since I was willing to listen to so-and-so's mother I must be UNhappy living with my own Mommy and Daddy and my cats, so I should go live with those other people if that's who I was going to listen to. She hollered at me. Sometimes she'd hit me, too. In spite of all that imposed deprivation in and out of my household, I was still chubby. Back in the day, we ate Arnold's or Pepperidge Farm white bread, bologna and cheese sandwiches, peanut butter and jelly, Spaghetti-Os, sugary cereals, steak with butter, hot dogs, cheeseburgers, all in the name of the Four Food Groups and the All-American diet. And I was sedentary. I was not permitted to work up a sweat. I was not permitted to run around outside with the other kids. I was not allowed to make noise. Silent, sedentary, and so hungry. The crappy, processed foods I lived on were not filling. The high corn syrup and corn starch content of most of my breakfast and lunchtime foods gave me energy highs, then dropped me down in the low blood sugar pits. My stomach growled by the time dinner was served. I was starving when I sat down to dinner. Starving and anxious. My parents didn't get along. My father was hungry and grouchy after his day at work. His high ball cocktails before supper either brightened his mood or made him defensive against my contentious, offensive mother. They could explode at any moment. I wolfed down my food in a hurry. I wanted to be able to put away my first round of food and grab a giant helping of seconds before my parents were finished eating or started fighting thereby signalling the end of dinnertime. My father scolded me for eating so much so fast. He accused me of making noises like a pig when I ate. It must have sounded that way as I gulped and snarfed at my food. I often had the hiccups. I was 5 years old when all this started. The humiliation. The derivation. The dieting. At five years old, I understood that if I were thin and pretty, the doctor would NEVER have recommended the switch to skim milk. For more of Lisa's story and her DAILY look at post-op life: http:/./TheSkinnyOnline.Blogspot.com |
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