ashleekm
By the time I was seventeen, I weighed 409 pounds. Long story short, my surgery got seriously jacked up. I was on the news about teenagers who have weight loss surgery, I no longer have any contact with my original surgeon, but don't talk about it because some of the legal areas get gray and muddy. (Yeah, no. Forreal. LEGAL AREAS. That shit happened.)
I've gone five years after my surgery without any kind of health insurance. Initially, I lost about 165 pounds, and then I went batshit crazy. Well okay, not really batshit. I had some trouble with addiction transfers and residuals of my youthful rebellion catching up with me. I'm reallyyy glad that crap's over now. When I was about eighteen or nineteen, we found out I had a post-op complication called a gastrogastric fistula. Big fancy words that means I, much like a cow, have more than one stomach. Kids from high school, eat your heart out!
I was planning a revision before my insurance lapsed. Now I have insurance again, pretty solid insurance. So I'm planning on going back AGAIN, because apparently I just looove Bariatric Surgery THAT much! I've dealt with some regain, which various surgeons have told me is not entirely unattributable to said complication, although I'm not such a punk that I can't take the credit for screwing up. I'm hoping, that at twenty-two, five years and a whole HELL of a lot of life experience wiser, that I won't eff it up like last time.
I'm a straight talker. I don't buy a lot of self-motivational bullshit. Either someone's going to do something or they aren't. If they decide not to do it, it's their choice. If they decide TO do it, their choice. I'm not gonna shove rainbows and unicorn poop down anyone's throat because that never worked for me. All that said, I really do have some things I'm passionate about, and I hope those things can come to fruition in the next few years.
