Fat Girl, Slim: My Journey Through Gastric Bypass

March 13, 2000

My Quest for Normality: How "It" All Began

For the longest time it was just a dream, a far-off notion, something that would probably never be. It all began in early 1999, when I started to see more and more about gastric bypass and what it was doing for the morbidly obese. I toyed with the idea, and more or less just wished I had the finances, and, let's face it, the courage, to do something so drastic and permanent.

I asked my doctor to check into it for me, to see what the safest procedure was, just out of curiosity. As with all questions asked in this era of HMOs, I never heard back from him. For months, I scarcely thought about it, until one day I saw a woman on a talk show (I know, I know, yuk, a talk show!) who had lost well over 100 pounds. I looked at her in amazement... she didn't have the slightest hint of ever being "fat" like me.

Then, I moved my quest onto the Internet. Searching, searching, searching. Gastric banding, stapling, you name it, I read about it. It was information overload, really. I lusted after it, drooled thinking about it... but had no idea where to begin. Again, it went to the back of my mind and collected more dust.

In early August 1999, it resurfaced again. This time, with a clearer message. A funny name, Roux en-Y. I stumbled across an online article about Carnie Wilson and her weight issues, and discovered that she was scheduled for surgery LIVE on the Internet! Her surgery was to be conducted by two doctors in San Diego in a renowned clinic... one that had performed more than 3500 of this very procedure.

I read and read and read, and finally got up the nerve to email the clinic to ask for more information. I was invited to an informational seminar to learn about my options. Shortly after my 26th birthday, I attended the seminar. They discussed options, what was safest, what was most permanent, etc. and at that point I knew Roux en-Y was right for me. I then began the loooong process of getting my insurance company to concur...

Now, it's just 3 weeks away...my own surgery. My Roux en-Y. April 3, 2000. God! I know it's the right thing, maybe the only thing, that will help me. Still, I can't help feeling nervous and shaky. Especially since everyone around me seems so shocked when I talk about it. All they keep thinking to themselves (few have the guts to actually say it aloud) is WHY? Well, I'll tell you why:

A Living, Breathing Medical Nightmare: My History

Let's start with a little something called heredity. Yes, that magical, wonderful thing that you inherit. I got some very robust German genes...tough, solid genes. And, very large ones. Up until I began my quest it was something my family never really talked about. I thought I was THE fat girl. The only one in the family. Turns out, there were several very large (aka morbidly obese) members of my family that died so long ago, I never even knew about them. And, it's not exactly something you go bragging about. So, there it was...the fat family secret. The fat gene: Strike One.

And what might Strike Two be? Well, still hereditary stuff, but even more fun than the fat gene...medical problems! My health issues arose at a very young age. I started gaining a lot of weight between age 5 and 10. At 10, I was diagnosed with an underactive thyroid. At 14, high blood pressure was added into the mix. At 17, diabetes (undiagnosed for several years) was finally discovered. At 19, the female troubles began: irregular menses.

At 21, I started to experience insulin resistance. My body's need for insulin was growing outrageously. So much so, that my pharmacist did not believe my prescription at first. She asked me if it was right, and even double-checked with my doctor. I was taking close to 400 units of insulin each day - almost unheard of! The more insulin my body needed, the more hunger I experienced, the more weight I gained, the more insulin resistant I became. Vicious cycle. Very, very vicious!

Through diet, exercise and the addition of type-II diabetes pills, I was able to cut that dose in half short-term. But, of course, it didn't last. I was starving myself, exercising to the point of near fainting and at times, my blood sugar was dangerously low. Close to coma, that's how low. It was only a matter of time before the insulin won. The fear of what would happen if I continued this radical diet regimen (which really just managed to keep me at my "very large, yet not-quite-enormous" weight) was too great.

Then, at age 23, I was diagnosed with high cholesterol. At 25, my periods completely stopped. Now, at 26, I am back to being extremely insulin resistant... taking 300+ units per day, even WITH the oral meds. Just a few weeks ago, I learned I had steatohepatitis, a diabetes-induced liver inflammation. Oh yeah, and a distended gallbladder. Already, the complications of diabetes are here... if I continue on this path, what will the future hold? Can there even be a future?

Why Diets Have Failed: Yo-Yo, Ma!

Strike Three? Very simple: Dieting! In addition to my problems with insulin resistance, I feel that dieting has contributed very significantly to my weight gain.

Overeater's Anonymous, Phen-Fen, Carbohydrate Addict's Diet, Atkin's, liquid diets, Weight Watcher's, Healthy Choice frozen meals, grapefruit, those horrible shakes, counting calories, support groups, going completely vegetarian, eating as little as possible, sometimes nothing, for days at a time... I've tried it all. And, I've tried it in combination with exercise... lots of it. Aerobics, walking, swimming, biking, you name it. So, why am I still fat?

The "Yo-yo" effect, as every dieter knows, is the horrible process of going on a diet, doing well short-term, going off the diet, regaining the weight and a few additional pounds. But that's not the end of it... out of sheer desperation, we start another diet hoping that this time we have the magic solution...that it will work. We do it again and again, regaining it all PLUS more.

The sad fact is, as far as I can tell, diets don't work. If they did, the diet industry wouldn't be making the kind of money they do! If we all got thin/trim and stayed that way, there would be no industry, now, would there? Seems like anyone who can lose weight and keep it off turns around and makes tons of dough off the 99% of us who can't. Doesn't anyone else see how ridiculous this is?

Oprah, who is probably just about the richest woman in America can't even keep it off. She's been yo-yoing for years now. If all the money you could ever possibly need can't buy THE diet, then maybe THE diet doesn't exist. It's a quest for the impossible, and it only causes more pain (and yes, more gain). Say it with me, "Diets don't work!"

But, Gastric Bypass? Oh, That's Dangerous! Anything but THAT!

I'm tired of failing and feeling like a failure. I'm tired of the "advice" I receive from people who couldn't possibly understand what it's like to be me. I'm tired of the media, doctors, friends, family members and yes, even strangers insinuating (or sometimes blatantly stating) that I am lazy, unmotivated or just plain unwilling to "do what it takes" to lose weight.

Stupid things people have said to me:

"I don't want to be hard on you like this, but dammit, what will it take for you to get off your butt and DO SOMETHING about this?"
-- Family Member

"Just look at yourself in the mirror everyday. I know you couldn't possibly like what you see. Maybe that will motivate you!
-- Former Doctor

"You're such a wonderful person, so beautiful on the inside. It's such a waste."
-- Former Friend

"Why do I make fun of you? Because I know what it does to you. Because you deserve it. You're a PIG!"
-- Family Member

"Have you seen a dietician? How about exercise...do you exercise? Try eating less."
-- Former Doctor

Well, you normal-sized people who think you know just what I should do to make everything right can go to hell. You, so high and mighty, have never had to carry around this kind of burden. The weight, the shame, the desperation, the ridicule, the awkwardness. Does anyone, honestly, believe that people are fat because they WANT to be that way? That they're just not doing all they can to change? Well, I've got news for you... you don't know JACK.

April 3, 2000: My Surgery Day

I woke early. Very early. For the last week or so, the nervousness had subsided. I was more mentally prepared, more able to accept the incredible thing I was about to do. It was what I dreamed about...and it was all about to come true. And I was ready, completely secure in my decision. Or so I thought. My stomach betrayed me. I vomited over and over out of sheer nervousness. In my heart, I knew it was what I wanted, but somehow, the message didn't get relayed to my stomach. By about 1pm, groggy and out of it, I headed into surgery under the care of Dr. Clark, assisted by Dr. Tremblay. Both renowned doctors at the Alvarado Center for Surgical Weight Control. My time had come.

In an instant (or, at least, what felt like one) it was over. I was in ICU, with people swarming around me. I was hazy, not quite sure of what was going on. Finally, a nurse came up and very loudly explained what had happened. The surgery was a success. Everything was fine, except that I would be on a ventilator for 24 hours. I laid there, listening, unable to speak, since a large tube was firmly planted down my throat.

Apparently, just prior to surgery, they had tried to insert a breathing tube down my throat but it didn't work. After several tries, they decided to stick the tube into my nose instead. Which, was fine, until they tried to take it out in the recovery room. I bled and bled, filling up my nasal cavity and aspirating blood down my throat and into my lungs. They were forced to reintubate me via my throat so that I would actually be able to continue breathing. And that was that.

I laid helplessly in ICU waiting and waiting to be taken off the ventilator. I could not speak and at times, it was difficult for me to breathe. It was more out of panic than anything else, knowing that a tube no larger than a drinking straw was my only path to my next breath. There was no such thing as a deep breath...there couldn't be. Just when I thought I couldn't take another breath, they came in to extract more fluid (ok, BLOOD) from the tube I was breathing through. And, then I could breathe a little better for a short time. What fun!

April 4, 2000: The Moment of Truth

Finally, about a century later (10am), the crowd swarmed around me once again in ICU. They were prepared for the worst. They talked about me as if I wasn't there, hearing every scary word. "If she is unable to breathe on her own once the tube is remove, trach team, get ready." Uh, yeah, tracheotomy. As in cut a hole in her throat so she can breathe through THAT for the rest of her life... And I thought I was panicked before! Thankfully, it was near effortless. I coughed up some nasty lung cookies and began breathing instantly. And, the swarm buzzed away. Now, on to the ever-exciting "recovery" portion of my hospital stay.

Things were pretty uneventful from that point forward. Walks around the halls (trying to, anyway with difficult, excruciating baby steps), pushing that wonderful pain button and dealing with poking, prodding, temp reading, etc. Eating broth and jello, watching superb daytime TV, talking with other "survivors." It wasn't half bad, but of course, I couldn't wait to go home. I was discharged from the hospital late on April 6, and after followups with the nutrition counselors, exercise gurus, doctors, nurses, etc, I was finally able to return home from San Diego on April 13. Still in pain, still a little touchy and out of it, but 21 pounds lighter.

February 3, 2001: Wow!

10 months post-op. It was rocky for a few months at the beginning (pain, needing waaaaaay too much sleep, being grouchy for no reason, dealing with insulin changes, etc., but after that, smooth sailing. At the start, the weight just fell off... no effort, no guesswork. Just me, going - going - gone! So did the need for most of my meds.

Nearly a year later, I was 122 pounds lighter! I still had probably 60 to go, but I wasn't worried or focused on it. Obsessing about my weight is what got me so fat. I had to keep reminding myself of that. Forcing myself not to step on the scale every day, letting the number on there decide if it was going to be a good or bad day. No way, not anymore!

Weight loss was harder, but I had come so far. I could finally be the active girl I used to be. I could rollerblade, swim, bike, hell, I could RUN.

April 15, 2003: A Whole New Me!

It's been over 3 years! Today, I don't even recognize the person I used to be. 331?! I don't know anymore how I ever got there, but I don't dwell on it. There are too many happy things to focus on. I now fluctuate between 155 and 165. I've lost over 170 pounds! It's exactly six short months until I turn 30 and I've decided what I want to do for myself.

I want to be fit at 30 and beyond, and I know I will... lately I've been letting the stress get to me and keep me from a lot of the things I enjoy, but no more! I want to spend the next 6 months enjoying myself outdoors as much as possible. I'm going to rollerblade, walk my lil pups, swim in my new pool, hike, anything. It might not be every day, I might not look perfect in a bathing suit, I might eat a few bites of chocolate cake. But you know what? I'm finally free. My weight will never again control me, or my life. And, I have such a wonderful brand new life that I am FREE to enjoy.

So many things "normal" people take for granted make me smile every day. I'll never look back. This road I've traveled has truly made all the difference.

Right After Surgery...

Eight Months Post Op...

Almost 3 Years Later!