*An abbreviated ending to the story…And obviously my story isn’t over. Not even close. I suppose this puts me at about December 2015*
I never finished my story of my weight loss and gain, I never really thought about updating this page. I was stalling. I was ignoring. I was trying to come up with a different excuse not to write here at al, but I stopped running out of words. Because I’m scared. Because I a sick of who I am. I am tired of sitting straight up so my boobs aren’t too heavy on my heart. I will catch you up as quickly as I can.
I had a lap band placed in 2013, the Friday before Mothers day. I worked my ass off to get that lap band. I went through the program and got told I had to stop because I was in an outpatient program. I started again once I was cut of that program and went through 6 months of exercise and getting ready for surgery. I lost 32 pounds before surgery. By my bandaversay I had lost a total of 83 pounds.
Then the downward spiral happened. There was a custody battle, I was in the hospital very sick… Yet, I was still doing ok. I had a new bf, my old one still lived with me, as well as his son. I went through long periods of time with my head somewhere is should have been. I pushed through, went about my life, broke up with my other half and turned the stress level down yet I kept getting sick. But the sick didn’t stop. I couldn’t hold down food, I couldn’t look at food without throwing up. I had pain, I was not doing well. I had tests done.
They pulled out my Mirena because they found I had an allergy to progesterone. Then did every scan they could on my gall bladder, including an endoscopy we couldn’t figure out what was wrong. I had discussed with my surgeon turning the band into a sleeve a while back, I thought this would actually help in my weight loss and healthiness. When they found nothing with my gallbladder we set a date for a band removal. I did it right before Pixies birthday. Two weeks later I found out I was pregnant.
It wasn’t the lap band, it was I was pregnant. I lost the baby in June. It was most likely the anesthesia.
I mourned, parts of me still are in mourning. I had lost so much over the past few years and now this. Now my little one. It was not ok, I was not ok. I had to get healthy. So I wanted a month, watched the video to get back into the program and had just started it. I was 305 pounds.
By the time everything was in place, I hadn’t seen the nutritionist yet or the exercise physiologists but I saw the psych. Who after 2 classes and no gym time at all decided that I couldn’t be part of the program. I wish I had a happier ending to that story but I don’t The doctor said that I relied too much on the surgery to get better. Which is bullshit and my surgeon knew it. I got two letters in the mail and had an appointment with the doc and yup that was it. I was not even allowed into the nonsurgical program.
So there you go…I buried my sorrows the way any fat kid does…..in cake.
My BMI was over 60
This shrink didn’t care about my health
I felt very alone….