robert M.
PART 1 A Losing Battle - Published Sunday, October 1, 2006 By Robert M I’m fat. I came to that conclusion a couple of years ago. I have steadily packed on the pounds for the last five years. Now, I am forced to battle what millions of Americans are struggling with today - obesity. I’m no longer a minority in this overweight club, so what I have decided to do about it now that I can admit my problem is the most important decision I have ever made. Once I thought about what action to take, it was actually an easy decision. I decided to undergo weight-loss surgery, more specifically, Lap-Band. It’s a laparoscopic gastric banding surgery that reduces the size of the stomach. My road to losing 250 pounds in 24 months is in its third week. After steadily gaining weight over the last five years, it took one embarrassing moment in August to make me realize it was time to change or die. Making the decision It’s been said that life is a journey, not a destination. My life has been an incredible journey - I had a good home, played college football, married a great woman and together we are raising a loving family. I haven’t paid enough attention to my weight. In the last five years I put on nearly 200 pounds and have become an unhappy, unhealthy, depressed, self-conscious father. I have never felt more alone than I do now. It may appear I have a good life and am living the American dream, only without all the money, but inside I am all by myself. And I got that way by following the standard American diet. With a busy family and a job that keeps me constantly on the move into the evenings on most nights, I ate a lot on the run - McDonald’s, Chicken Express, Wendy’s and other such food. I remember there was a time when we ate out more than we did at home. And I remember thinking at one point that I was getting healthier because I switched to Taco Bell. At that point I was getting burritos with lettuce and cheese rather than quarter-pounders. And boy, I thought that was a huge improvement. But deep inside I knew better. I could not stand the pain shooting up the heel of my foot or that I was out of breath walking back to the car after a football game. Better yet, I knew I was in trouble last April when I was at Odessa’s Ratliff Stadium for the regional track meet. This massive, college-size stadium has no elevator and hauling a wide load up 50 flights of stairs several times a day about gave me heart failure. I felt doomed to die of a heart attack by the age of 32, but I didn’t know what to do. I don’t overeat so I figured eventually it would all go away. I was certain that putting on a few extra pounds was something that happens to everyone when they hit their 30s. It hit me like a ton of bricks this year, and I have one immature, rude, disrespectful Decatur High School student to thank for it. I was at my first volleyball game of the season in late August when I walked by the student body section. I noticed in my peripheral vision as I approached the group that one boy in particular kept staring at me. Just as my family and I passed, he quickly turned to two of his buddies and said, “Did you see how fat that dude was? What a freak!” This definitely was not the first time I was stared at because of my weight. It happens all the time. When I see others in my same position, I notice they all get the same kind of looks I get. Those words that boy spoke back in August are still ringing in my ears. I didn’t sign up for this, nor did I ask to be overweight. To say I didn’t cry that night as my wife slept would be a lie. What I heard come out of that boy’s mouth cut like a knife. Of all the great kids I work with at Decatur, it took one inconsiderate teenager to shake my world. I thought about it all night, the next day, and for the next week. I wanted to change overnight before the next person made fun of me. I see it almost every day now that my eyes were opened by this one person. People look at me differently every day, it’s just I can’t read thought bubbles as they stare when I slowly pass by. I realize now I have been hiding from my problem that just won’t go away. My negative feelings about my appearance prevented me from enjoying everyday life, like going to movies, going for walks at the park, visiting with family and friends and playing with my two small boys. I hide from cameras and I run from mirrors. I hated the way I looked, and worst of all, I hated myself. I talked with my wife, my extended family, my boss - heck, I even had chats with our photographer. He was a good one because he has been in my place before. After laying everything on the line, I decided it was time for drastic measures. I just could not take another minute of being this way. I wanted to change my life, not only for me but for my children. They need their father back. I decided to have weight-loss surgery before the weight killed me. Robert Morgan is the sports editor of the Wise County Messenger. He will be writing about his battle with obesity in a 24-month ongoing series about weight-loss surgery. Part 2 A Losing Battle Jumping on the ‘Band’ wagon Published Sunday, October 8, 2006 By Robert Morgan Once I sat down and thought about my family, additional health problems that could strike at any time and all of the things I could no longer do, the decision to have bariatric weight-loss surgery was the only choice I had – if I wanted to live long enough to see my boys graduate. My health had deteriorated over the last five years. The more weight I put on, the less I would do. I didn’t like going anywhere – besides work and sporting events – because of this cruel world. There are parts of our society that are not designed for overweight folks, and every time I would discover this in public, I wanted to crawl under a rock and die of embarrassment. When I took my boys to carnivals or Sea World, I was left on the outside watching them because I did not fit on rides of any kind. Flying? That could have been the worst experience ever. I had to board the plane early so no one would see me squeeze into my seat-and-a-half while connecting a seatbelt extension. Thankfully, my wife traveled to California with me and I didn’t have to pay for two seats. The list goes on. But, no matter where I went, I also looked at my wife, my kids or at the ground because I did not want to notice anyone looking at me like I was some sort of freak show. I didn’t ask to be this heavy, nor did I get this way because I wanted to be seen. I never went home at the end of the day and ate a large pizza with a side of ranch dressing while drinking a two-liter bottle of Pepsi, only later to chase it with a tub of ice cream. It’s disheartening that people actually believe those walking in my shoes live their life with food in their mouths 24 hours a day. My weight problem came along because I ate wrong. I was eating the wrong foods at the wrong times. Too much eating on the run and not enough eating a home-cooked meal at the dinner table. Now I’m fighting back. I’m going to succeed for five main reasons: 1. To be an example for those who think it’s not possible to lose 200 pounds that it can be done; 2. To show the heartless, disrespectful folks who have looked down at me these past few years that I am human; 3. To be the man my wife used to know; 4. To give my children the father they need; 5. Because I want my life back. Ready to be banded I spent many long nights and early mornings researching doctors in North Texas that specialize in Lap-Band surgery. I did my homework online and offline. I talked to people who had the surgery and discussed their doctors and I looked into past problems and how many of these operations they have performed. I finally, found the man who would help me change my life – Dr. Curtis Mosier. After talking with former patients, his Lap-Band coordinator and Mosier himself, I was ready to take the leap. I had my first appointment with Mosier on Sept. 5. We discussed everything from my family’s medical history to the surgical procedure and life afterwards. After deciding I qualified for Lap-Band surgery, he told me in detail what this medical device will do. He also let me know that I will be his heaviest patient ever to have this operation. The surgical band will tie part of my stomach and create a new, smaller pouch that will hold no more than four ounces. Fluid inside the device allows the doctor to loosen or tighten the constriction, controlling the amount of food I would consume before feeling full. Although there are risks – the Food and Drug Administration warns of nausea and vomiting, heartburn, abdominal pain and slippage of the band – the risk was certainly less than the chance of dying from a heart attack. The doctor knew I needed this immediately because I was a heart attack waiting to happen. He set my surgery date for Sept. 20 – just 15 days from my appointment. My heart raced because I expected to have to wait a couple of months. Since I do not have insurance that would cover this type of surgery, I had to pay to save my life. It took some scrambling and one big answered prayer, but I came up with $15,000 that would cover everything. Because the surgery was only two weeks away, I had to move on several of his orders immediately. I had to attend a Lap-Band seminar, as well as schedule appointments with others who played a role in my pre-op: n Lap-Band coordinator. I met with Judy Spira for the first time. She is the backbone of this whole program. She is my permanent guide to a healthy new me. She talked me through all of the surgery, talked with my whole family about how things would go in surgery and about life after surgery. Among her many jobs, she also facilitates the monthly support group of pre- and post-banders. n Nutritionist. I had to visit a nutritionist before surgery. This was a lot harder than I ever imagined. The easy – and amazing – part of the visit was going over my post-surgery diet. The first week after surgery I would be on a liquid diet. That would be followed by four weeks of pureed food, or baby food. This would be my meal three times a day and I would only eat two ounces of food (That is the equivalent of half a jar of Gerber). Now came the hard part — discussing our eating habits. Stretching the truth was not an option because the whole family was in the room. We never thought about how bad we are until we had to list our meals for every day for the last month or so. It is amazing how often we ate out. My eyes even watered just listing the places we had eaten. My wife and I were sick at the thought of how often we do eat out. It’s something everyone should think about. The blood test was the only stop I didn’t want to make. I had not been to the doctor in two years because I did not want to find out all the health problems I had developed — diabetes and high blood pressure topping the list of potential problems. Miraculously, I did not have any health problems besides my obesity. Unbelievable. I also had to see a psychologist to make sure I could mentally handle the surgery and to make sure I had the willpower to make it work. Drink up When I left the doctor’s office on Sept. 5, I had one last meal left — possibly the last real meal I will ever eat again. He put me on a 14-day liquid diet which was to begin when I woke up the next morning. Decisions, decisions. What does a guy do for a last meal? Saltgrass? Texas Roadhouse? Olive Garden? Texas de Brazil? Nothing like putting on five pounds before going for weight-loss surgery. We decided to stay in Decatur and give Chili’s my last dining dollars. Beef fajitas were the order of the day. I wanted to eat good, but not too bad, so I just ate the meat and grilled veggies. I woke up the next morning to 14 days of liquid. That meant three protein shakes a day as meal replacements, beef or chicken broth for those times I had hunger pains and all the sugar-free Jello and Popsicles I wanted. I thought, “Wow, this is too easy. Surgery will be here before I know it.” That lasted seven hours. Protein shakes just don’t satisfy a fat guy, so I went hungry the first night – and the next, and the next. Finally, four days into it and Mosier was right. I was very moody and argumentative. Maybe I should have taken his advice to let my wife stay in a hotel for the next two weeks. I was sucking down Jello and Popsicles like there was no tomorrow. On day five, however, I found my solution — broth. Nothing made me happier than a hot can of broth. This was awesome. Sure, I got hungry from time to time, but it was nothing a sports dude couldn’t handle. The day before surgery I had my last pre-op surgery with Spira. We met briefly to make sure I was ready and it was time to hit the scale. I had dropped 17 pounds on my 14-day liquid diet. A quick high-five and I was skipping back to the car. My wife almost had to put a muzzle on me because I couldn’t stop bragging, but I had earned the right to brag a little bit. I wanted everyone to know. That evening I was to stop all liquids by midnight. At 11:59 p.m., I drank a cup of broth to celebrate my future as a loser. For better or for worse, my life was going to change in 10 hours. Photos 450 It's time to lose
