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Today when I lifted up a bucket of Kitty Litter -- 40 pounds -- I thought how amazing it is that I have lost more than that! And it was HEAVY! Imagine carrying around that much all the time. I did! And now, I've lost 51 pounds, and I'm amazed.

I'm also amazed at how generally good I've felt and that I haven't felt like I'm deprived or suffering. There are times when I want to eat more of something because it tastes good, but when I think about the pain I'll suffer if I fill up too much ... that slows me down.

I imagine my torso to be filled with spaces and air pockets and rivers and tunnels, and sometimes those spaces fill up with noxious air, painful gas, that seeps around throughout my body in a kind of bue haze, pressing against my internal organs and making them hurt. And somewhere in there is my tiny new stomach pouch and it is crammed full of food and it is moaning in pain, and the staples -- what about the staples? Are they getting loose? Are they straining? Are they now grown into my body? I just wonder about those staples....

Important moments:

Realizing some of my rings were too loose to wear.

Realizing some of the rings I've loved and haven't worn in years now fit!

The first time I wore a shirt tucked in! 1/6/17

The first time I was able to eat Chinese food. 1/4/17

The first time I ate chicken ... but ate too much and had some sad consequences. 12/27/16

The day someone said they could tell I lost weight in my face, neck and chest.

The eay I was able to trim my toenails without feeling like I would suffocate! Huge. 1/26/17

The day my friend Ann told me my winter coat was too big and just hung on me. 2/5/17

It's exciting to think about what other important moments are ahead!

 

 

The main reason I decided to have bariatric surgery is because I have Type 2 Diabetes. It's a nasty, sneaky, insidious disease that can creep up on you when you're not looking.

I certainly wasn't looking. It came as a complete surprise to me in the fall of 2000 when my nurse practitioner told me that I might have "a little diabetes." That was back when health care professionals wanted to couch the bad news in euphemisms like "a little diabetes." I went to a seminar with people like myself and learned a whole lot. Even as I sat in the room with those other people, I thought -- "I'm not really like them. I don't really have very bad diabetes. " Well, there's no such thing as "a little diabetes." You have it, or you don't. I had it.

I lived in complete denial. I told very few people about it because I was extremely embarrassed. Even though I knew there had to be a genetic component in order to get diabetes, I was ashamed. I thought if I ignored it, it couldn't really be that bad. And frankly, I didn't feel any different. Never mind that I was thirsty all the time and sleepy almost every afternoon and especially after I ate anything.

I knew it could be controlled with diet and exercise, but I was not especially fond of exercise, and my diet was all over the place -- and not very healthful. Until my mid-30s, I never had a weight problem. I had an extremely stressful job with long hours, usually during the graveyard shift of 4 p.m. to 1 a.m. I rarely went to bed before 3 a.m. When friends were getting up at 7, I was rolling over to get another three hours of sleep. Lunch was usually breakfast, and a snack was usually lunch. Dinner was catch as catch can, and never on a regular schedule. Grazing was a way of life.

Food was a way of life. My boyfriend (who also has a weight problem and Type 2  -- but well-controlled) correctly pointed out that I ate when I was sad. Ate when I was nervous or bored. Ate when I was happy. Food was my friend! And I couldn't figure out how to distance myself from that relationship.

One of the best things I've ever done was to visit a clinic for eating disorders. There I was diagnosed as having a compulsive over-eating disorder -- COE (and which is finally recognized as a valid disease, like anorexia or bulemia). There, I met a lot of people just like me. Their eating disorder -- often known in our community as Ed -- was controlling their lives and slowly killing them.

I've been going to that clinic for just over eight years, and it has been a lifesaver. It is not a place where you go to lose weight -- it's where you go to figure out why you eat too much (thus, gaining weight). You learn about the tools to say no to food, to become much more mindful about your behavior and why food has such control over your life. I have been asked, "So, you've been going there a lot. You must be cured, right?" I don't think one ever really "cures" an eating disorder, just like you can't "cure" diabetes. You can control it through mindfulness and behavioral change.

So: No surprise that the eating disorder contributed to the damn diabetes. And the damn diabetes can, apparently, be controlled -- sometimes nearly eliminated -- with bariatric surgery. The side effects of diabetes -- sight loss, kidney disease, neuropathy, sores on the legs and feet that can become infected and require amputation (I'm not kidding) -- are not going away by ignoring it.

I'm putting a lot of hope on that surgery. I want to be free of diabetes, or at least, no longer tethered to my insulin pump and no longer dragging around all kinds of medications and equipment. Am I hoping for too much? Is it all up to how hard I work, how much I lose, or how hard I pray? I'm sure it depends on the person.

And this person really wants to say goodbye to Type 2 Diabetes. And change her life.

Thoughts? Comments? Please share!

Over the weekend I went to the cabin in Wisconsin with Susan, Amira, and Mary ... all of them fit women who have no eating disorders that I have ever been aware of. And since they are three of my best friends, I felt like it was time to tell them about this new episode in my life. (Susan already knew about it, though, quite awhile ago. We spend too much time and too many meals together for her not to know!) M and A were, of course, supportive. I think my friends have been more worried about my health than I realized. I think they're going to be great allies. In fact, I think I will have a lot of allies. No one has said that they think this is a bad idea. And that's why I need to only tell people whom I trust beforehand: I only want people who can be positive.

I don't think of myself as a heavy, fat, unhealthy person. I am surprised when I look in the mirror. Who is that person looking back at me with three chins and no jaw line?  People who didn't know me "back then" probably just see me as a fat lady with gray hair. Like the coffee shop kids. They're all really young and don't think of "old" people as having had a life like theirs, back in the day.

My biggest reaon for the surgery really is for the the Type 2 diabetes I've had for about 17 years. Those sores I had on my leg all last summer and fall (and into the winter) really scared me. Even though my disease is now under fairly good control, it's only because I am on all kinds of medications, included insulin. It's not going to get better, though, and it can't be cured. I guess this is the closest thing to curing.

I hope that by the time it happens, I'll be able to really follow through. To live with the changes and accept them. And wouldn't it be nice to go on a trip and NOT have to bring along all my insulin pump equipment, my drugs, my insulin, etc.? It does mean I won't be able to try a lot of the interesting foods I find in other countries, and that makes me sad. But it doesn't mean that the trips will be any less interesting.

Reading over other people's stories of their journeys and what they go through at first is at times terrifying, yet also comforting. No one seems to be saying they wish they had never done it. The idea of walking without pain, sitting on a plane without a seatbelt extender, and of being able to tie my shoes without working up a sweat is positively giddifying. That's what I'm after. To live a normal life and to do things that I took for granted. Like walking up the stairs or even going down to the basement.

And it's not being able to do those things -- and my family and friends noticing it more and more even as I realize it myself -- that has persuaded  me to explore what it would be like to lose that weight and pursue a healthier lifestyle. It's an adventure I don't want to have by myself, so sharing it with the right people (and at the right time) seems like another step in wise preparation. Right?

 

June 8, 2016

This is the first time for me to write about my potential weight loss surgery (WLS). The first time, at least on something official, like a blog, which, even though it is (not yet) published, is a good place to start keeping track of what I'm thinking. It might be good just to be able to barf up some feelings and thoughts that I can eventually look back on, I hope, and see what progress -- again, I hope! -- I've made, and how I was feeling at the beginning of this journey.  

So many fears: Will I be able to control my eating disorder? Will I be able to establish new patterns beore the surgery? Will I lose weight before the surgery? Will I be desperate to eat all kinds of food before the surgery? Will I eat poorly after the surgery and embarrass myself by having a terrible diarrhea accident in public? Will I feel sick all the time? Will I hate what I've done and wonder why I did it? Will I feel like a different person, and will I like that person?

I guess this is the place to rant and rave about those fears. Because who really wants to hear them? I get tired of even hearing myself. So if anyone else is out there reading this, I'll be happy to hear your impressions as to whether they had or are having these obsessive worries. You can't just go around telling everyone how you feel about this experience -- for one thing, many people have the idea it's all about "wanting to take the easy way out." Hah. We know that's not true. The worry and fear alone makes it anything but easy.