A Few Lessons: 10+ Years Post-Op

Mar 18, 2016

Looking at me, you might not guess that I’ve lost more weight than most women will ever weigh or that I’ve been dieting since I was scarcely old enough to print my name.

My journey to a healthier life was a meandering path, perhaps with more ups and downs than average. It led me to a point where remaining the same was much more daunting than making a change, and so, I did.

This change point is one that many people experience. You, too, might have had this moment. I believe choosing to change your life to forge a new, healthier way of living — whatever that entails — is courageous and even inspiring.

Why inspiring? Well, while this initial moment comes at an “aha” point, the whole journey takes hundreds —  maybe thousands — of tiny decisions, instances of recommitment to your health, and for many people, me included, that is hard. Sometimes, too, we are striking out on ‘roads less travelled,’ upsetting the status quo of our families and those around us to become the first… the first to run that marathon… the first to switch to a plant-based diet… the first to address obesity head-on.

As I share my story with you here, I hope that you know that I consider myself much more a work-in-progress than any kind of success story. When I first began, I imagined my journey had a beginning, middle, and an end; I felt sure good health was a destination. Instead, I now know I’ll be on this ride with all of its twists and turns, starts and stops, my whole life long.

My Story

In May of 2005, I underwent roux-en-y gastric bypass surgery. At the time, I weighed well over 300 pounds and stood at only five-feet-one-inches tall. I was in my early twenties, but suffering the comorbidities of someone many years my elder.  

The decision to have weight loss surgery was a tough one for me. On one hand, I was terrified that something could go wrong during surgery and my quest for a healthier life might end with me not getting to live it. On the other, I was afraid of what success looked like: a life lived without using food as a crutch.

The bariatric life is not one-size-fits-all. It’s a highly personal journey that is challenging, rewarding, and rather emotional, too. So, I can only really speak about my own experiences. Please, keep that in mind.

Here are a few things I’ve learned living the bariatric life for more than 10 years now.

It’s not the “easy way out.” It takes effort.

Bariatric surgery is not a magic pill, and for most of us, the weight doesn’t miraculously fall off. If you are walking a wellness journey of your own, this may come as no surprise that you have to put in significant effort to get back the kind of results you want. What might surprise you, though, is how often you’ll encounter people who don’t understand this, especially when it comes to weight loss surgery.

Years ago, an old boss of mine was flabbergasted when I told him it took me two years and copious hours in the gym to get my weight off. In his magical alternate reality, I walked into the hospital at 343 pounds, had an operation, and then left a few days later 200 pounds lighter (*magic dust*).

You may gain back some weight.

When I had my bariatric surgery, I repeatedly told myself, “I’m never going back!” I didn’t want to ever feel so encumbered again, and I operated with a sense of desperation and fear. Still today, I remember what it felt like to struggle to breathe, to barely be able to walk through a department store without sitting, to ache when I tried to sleep.  

I haven’t gone back and I don’t believe I ever will, but I’ve definitely seen my weight fluctuate, sometimes by a lot. Pregnancy, personal difficulties, and general life events have affected my weight up and down over the past decade. That’s normal. I spent a lot of time feeling stressed and pondering failure if I gained a pound (or several) here or there.

For me, committing to a healthy life has grown to include being patient with my own wellness path. The factors that influenced my obesity to begin with are largely still present today, and that means that this is a lifelong journey and success simply can’t hinge on a number on the scale.

It’s a brave choice.

This point is particularly poignant for me, because I spent so many years struggling to hold my head up high for a decision that was, in my case, life-saving.

Back when I had bariatric surgery in 2005, it wasn’t nearly so common. People largely didn’t know what it was, and what little they thought they knew seemed to offer them just enough information to pass judgement. I have bariatric friends who hid their weight loss surgeries from even their closest friends for fear of this judgement. There were moments I, too, chose not to share my experience. It is disheartening to make such a profound choice for your health and then to feel that you must hide in shame because of it.

I want to tell you right now, if you have had surgery or are considering it now, this is a brave, complex, and very personal choice. It’s one that should be based on your health needs and the direction given by your healthcare provider, not on the misinformation and prejudices of others.

You are bariatric forever.

Going into roux-en-y surgery, I generally understood the facts. Theoretically, I knew that my body would be permanently altered and that I would need to be mindful of my nutritional intake for the entirety of my life.

Of course, understanding facts and actually living in the reality were two different things.

I’ve come to know how complicated it can be to so closely monitor your nutrition and to continually ensure that your vitamin levels aren’t falling dangerously low or that your supplementation isn’t causing them to rise too high.  I didn’t know back then that I’d have to become such a strong self-advocate and that each and every time I met a new doctor, I’d have to thoroughly explain my medical history and about my supplement needs.

After more than a decade, I’ve grown accustomed to what being bariatric means for my life. I’ve woven it into the fabric of who I am, and I’ve educated those around me, too. In fact, a few months ago, during the labor and delivery of my son, it became evident that I would need an emergency c-section. When this prospect came up, my mother and husband both exclaimed, “She’s bariatric! Roux-en-y!” just in case my altered physiology would impact anything.

Indeed, I am. Like so many of my other labels, wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, “bariatric patient” has become an identifier. It is no longer just a surgery I had, it is who I am.

The day I had bariatric surgery, I could never have imagined how it would change my life, how it would change me. I didn’t know that it would become a bookmark in my history, a moment that I could forever point back to as the day my story took an unexpected turn. It was a choice that influenced everything.

For some people, getting healthy means making small, incremental changes that happen so gradually, they can only be seen through the lens of hindsight. For others, like me, it is more extreme. In my case, it was a personal revolution.


P.S. The company I work for, Vitagene, is currently conducting a research study that will allow us to build the world’s largest obesity-centric genetics database. If you have a BMI of 35 or greater, you may qualify for this important research study and have the opportunity to get free DNA testing. Learn more here.    
 

 

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About Me
La Mesa, CA
Location
27.4
BMI
RNY
Surgery
05/02/2005
Surgery Date
Nov 07, 2004
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