With a Relentless Open Heart

July 19th, 2017 at 5am, I checked into the hospital to start the first day of the rest of my life. It was the big day… the day that I would join “the losers bench” and the day that I knew would change and most importantly SAVE my life. On July 19th, 2017 I had Roux en Y Gastric Bypass surgery. This surgery literally changed the anatomy of my stomach to restrict what and how much food I can have and to maximize weight loss. I had weight loss surgery.

And today is day one of a year later post surgery. I am living in the life that I went through hell and back to maximize and to save.

Ever since I can remember, I have struggled with my weight. Feeling insecure and ashamed of myself, how I looked and the space that I took up in the world. I remember dieting from the age of 8 years old, having clothes in smaller sizes in my closet as goals and motivation to make me eat less, move more, and diet away the one seeming imperfection of my life… my size. It was a common topic of conversation between my mother and me and a part of my daily life. It was a long running joke that I was “born with curves”.

It’s funny sometimes hindsight works. I can’t begin to count how many times I thought to myself or commiserated to a friend “I wish I was as fat as I was the first time I thought I was fat!!” But that is how it always works.., there is a reason why there are so many statements, quotes and songs about this kind of sentiment. Cinderella’s song “Don’t Know What You Got” comes to mind…

‘Don’t know what you got till it’s gone
Don’t know what it is I did so wrong
Now I know what I got
It’s just this song
And it ain’t easy to get back
Takes so long’

There was a time I thought this girl, this 16 year old me, was a huge ugly person. I would starve myself, down caffeine pills and diet pills like they were candy, and when all that failed, I would throw up everything I ate. While I was starting to come into my own and find value in some parts of me, none of those things were about how I looked. I despised those aspects of myself and did my best to pummel them away, by all means necessary.

You know how the story goes… for some it’s the freshman 15, for some it’s that first year of marriage. We all go through it, weight fluctuates… realistically, not everyone maintains the body and weight they had at 16 years old. I didn’t. I steadily gained weight through out the years. I had two beautiful daughters. My body created life twice, and it let me know it physically.

Throughout the years, I continued to hate that part of myself. My body. Slowly, the hatred I felt for my physical condition began to spread, like an infection through out my whole being. Surely, if I couldn’t control this part of myself, that meant there was even more wrong with me. With my spirit, my mind… everything that made me, me. Queue dieting, losing, regaining… and the inevitable toll that that took on my health in every way possible.

Then on October 9th, 2012… my mom died. She too had battled these issues her entire life. She was 52 years old and she died of a major heart attack suddenly without warning.

And that began the day that I began to view my life as a countdown to death.

Every birthday that passed I would mentally do the math… 52-34= 28.
28 years left with my girls, my husband, my family and friends.
Then I would think about how old the girls would be… Roslyn 40, Vivi 33. At least Roslyn would be older than I was when I lost my mom, but crap- Vivi would be about the same age as I was when I lost my mom. That wasn’t a good thought at all.

I began to think about and look into the possibilities of weight loss surgery, gastric bypass. I found out my insurance covered it sometime late 2015. I made a couple of appointments. I cancelled them or rescheduled them all. Too ashamed and embarrassed to actually have those conversations with a doctor. I wasn’t even really talking to Drew about it at that time… and honestly, he is the most supportive man and husband in the history of humanity, I’m pretty sure. So I carried on, hating my body, mentally beating myself up every second of every day, further spiraling downward physically and wishing life were different, better, for me.

On Halloween night, 2016, I fell down while trick or treating with the kids and I broke my foot.

I was flat on my back, foot in a cast to my knee for 5 weeks, absolutely no weight baring was allowed. That was the turning point for me. During that five weeks, I lost what little bit of health I could still claim and cling to. Breaking my foot was the inspiration and the spark that I needed to finally take the plunge… make and keep the appointment, and start the process to save my life.

On January 6th, 2017 I finally went to the appointment that I had been putting off for over year. I told them I wanted and needed help. I asked for a referral to a bariatric surgeon. My PCP just looked at me and said “I think that’s a great idea!” with a smile on her face. No judgement. No lectures. Just support. I felt safe and I felt empowered to begin the journey. And what a journey it would be.

For the following six months… this would be my motto and the statement that I would live on. My insurance didn’t make this easy on me. And honestly, no insurance should. This is literally a life altering procedure that can only help you so far. The process before hand is what will guarantee your success or your failure. The magic of the tool of gastric bypass is not bullet proof or forever magical. It’s what you do with the tool and the chance that you have been given that will determine your long term success.

My six months entailed monthly visits where I would have to be weighed, loose at least some amount of weight, and go over again and again how I was over weight, I needed help, I couldn’t do it on my own and more. I had to go to a lung doctor, cardiologist, nutritionist, psychologist, and have countless amounts of blood work done, a sleep study and treat for sleep apnea. During all of that, I found out I was pre-diabetic, had high cholesterol, and sleep apnea in addition to what I had been treating for years, hypothyroid, high blood pressure and asthma. Physically I was falling apart and well on my way to that inevitable early death I’d been counting down to in my head.

It was HARD. In so many ways it was humiliating. Life was a constant state of being reminded what was wrong with me, finding out new things wrong with me, and dealing every second of every day with this exhausting and difficult process. There was an underlying satisfaction in knowing I was being proactive and forging a new future for myself… but it also felt so very far away.

Eventually, that 6 months was up (June 2017). I’d checked off every box on the to do list and got my surgery scheduled for the following month. All that they lay before me was the pre-op diet, surgery, recovery, and ultimately my new life.

If you’ve ever been on a liquid diet, you know it sucks. But it is a necessary requirement for almost all bariatric surgeons for their patients. It’s often called the “liver shrinking diet” because it’s purpose prior to bariatric surgery is to shrink the liver (almost all people who are obese have what’s called “fatty liver disease”) and make it easier to retract during the surgery itself. My liquid diet was a three week, clear liquid diet. Three weeks of water, broth, sugar free jello, sugar free popsicles, and the highlight of my day- protein powder supplements mixed with my water. It was ROUGH to put it lightly. But it was worth it. And ultimately made me healthier for surgery and the surgery itself that much safer for me.

Surgery day came and went with little issues or concern. I checked into the hospital at 5am and was back in surgery about an hour and a half later. The only hitch in an otherwise ideal less than ideal circumstance (surgery is never ideal or easy!) was that my order for pain medicine wasn’t put in the system so when I finally came to and the anesthesia had worn off, I was feeling the full extent of my pain and had to get up and start moving around a that point. I remember thinking and telling my nurse that I couldn’t until those meds were ordered and in my system, but I did it anyways. About an hour later, the order came through and I was able to get some relief so that I could focus on my healing and the goals of walking and water intake. I would stay on the clear liquid for another 7 days post-op, before introducing soft foods, then gradually working my way up to what would be my new normal way of eating and life for the rest of my life.

What the surgery did was to create a pouch in my stomach, and reroute my intestines up to my new stomach or “pouch”, bypassing a portion of the intestines. My new stomach holds approximately 4-6 ounces of food at a time. With being able to hold so little, it is vitally important that what I do eat counts. Protein is key. As is making sure that I take vitamins and supplements daily to make up for the malabsorption issues that can be present with the surgery and the bypass of a portion of my intestines. I also still drink a protein supplement daily.

The first three months were some of the hardest months of life that I have ever been through. Finding what foods I tolerated with my new stomach, which I affectionately refer to as “alien stomach” was a challenge. Foods that were safe and tolerated one day would make me violently ill the next day. I would deal with what’s called “head hunger” where I would want something or feel like I was hungry even though my body was not physically hungry at all. Somedays I would find myself in tears at the process of trying to decide where to eat with my friends or family because I felt like such a pain in the ass. Honestly? That sometimes still happens to me. I have to think about every aspect regarding food and sometimes, I simply wish it were easier and that I didn’t have to do that. But those days are fewer and fewer now.

The other thing I did not anticipate was that my blood pressure would correct itself to normal within 3 weeks post-op, which was awesome, but I was still on blood pressure medications. Every day tasks became difficult as I was constantly exhausted and even the smallest of tasks made me feel light headed and that I was going to pass out. I remember taking my blood pressure and it reading 88/46. Yikes. I immediately halved my medication and at my next appointment I was told to go ahead and go completely off of my blood pressure medication. My blood pressure has been perfect ever since. I have also almost completely eliminated all of my asthma issues and flare-ups, as well as halved my cholesterol medication. Due to family medical histories, I may always be on cholesterol medicines, but I am doing everything in my power to try to not need them. I will also always likely need to be on thyroid medications for my hypothyroid issues.

Understandably, the biggest question that I get asked is…

“How much weight have you lost?!”

I get it. And I have lost a LOT of weight. And I am proud of that. And to answer that question…

I have lost 140 pounds since I began my weight loss surgery  journey, 93 pounds since surgery. And also, so much more. I have lost much of my insecurities, I have lost that loathing self talk, I have lost bad habits and self defeating behaviors. I’ve lost the belief that I am not inherently worthy or valuable and I have lost the desire or ability to allow people to treat me like I don’t matter.

And I have GAINED so much as well. I’ve begun to value and respect myself. I’ve been able to do things that I had lost hope of doing years ago. I’m not afraid of chairs. I’ve been able to fly and visit my best friend in another state. I’ve climbed 200 feet of stairs in a cavern and felt empowered. I’ve gained healthy habits and a love of being as physically strong and as capable of possible. Simply, I’ve gained my life back and it’s the most beautiful thing.

When I talk to people, I always tell them this…

If all of the weight loss were to stop today, I am grateful to be where I am. If this is as good as it gets… then this is pretty damn good. My life is so much better than it was before… I have a life now. I’m not living in a state of waiting to die.

I don’t believe that staying where I am at now will be the case. I am still losing. It’s slowed down, but I am still losing pounds and gaining strength I never knew that I could have. I am still making life choices and changes that will allow me to continue to lose weight, gain strength and achieve all of the goals that I want to achieve. I eat foods that fuel my body, I exercise, I go on adventures with my friends and family. I try new things. I take risks. I’m mindful of what my body and mind need. I live my life openly, excitedly and with nothing but gratitude for this chance that I have been given.

In my real, day to day life, I have been very open about this journey. Everyone I know and love knows about this, from my family, to my best of friends, to the baristas at my favorite Starbucks. But I did realize in reflection as the one year mark approached, that I never did speak or post about it obviously or publicly online. I didn’t hide it, at least intentionally, but I realized I didn’t give it the honor of speaking it out loud in that way and sharing my story. So that is what I hope to have to done with this… Share my story in hopes that I can help or inspire someone who may be going through what I went through, and to help those who will never face making these kind of choices understand and have a glimpse into it. 

I would like to thank everyone who has stood by me, supported me, comforted me, cheered me on and loved me each step of the way in this process. It’s been a long year and a half since I started the process and without you all, I could have never gotten through it all.

Drew… thank you for being my best friend, my biggest support, taking it all in when the journey was so hard, treating me with compassion and kindness and love when I know I was in dark and down places, for loving me before, loving me during and after, for being my rock and shoulder to lean on, for working so hard to make it all possible, for driving down to Phoenix sometimes 3 times a day to be with me in the week I spent down there in recovery, for not only never acting inconvenienced by my new life and rules but for joining in with me when you don’t have to, for going to the gym after teaching 18 students in a day, and so very much more… you are the best human being that I know and I will spend the entirety of my life trying to be worthy of your amazing love.

Roslyn and Vivienne… thank you for your patience and grace while mama went through so much. For being the hug and the kiss I needed on tough days, for being my adventure buddies, for understanding when mama’s new rules interfered with some of the things you like or want to have or do, for going on hikes with me, for being so encouraging and proud of me with every milestone I meet. I did this in so many ways for you two… to be an example and inspiration to you to take your lives and health seriously and with heart… to be able to spend as much time as humanly possible with you and watch you grow up into the amazing and phenomenal women you will become. I love you both bigger than space and you two have saved me and made me who I am.

To my amazing friends and sisters, Kristin and Jessica… You two are the very definition and picture of friendship and sisterhood. Thank you for being there for me throughout the process. Thank you for understanding when I got very quiet, and for listening when I needed to talk. For sharing in the highs AND the lows of everything… for building me up and never tearing me down… you are my chosen family, the sisters of my heart and my forever best friends. I couldn’t do life without you.

There are so many more to thank and acknowledge, but this has to wrap up at some point… it’s already so long. I am forever grateful for the love and support, and for the new life I have been living for the last year and will continue to live. I am living my life… actively, no longer just existing.

This life is the greatest gift that I could have ever been blessed with and has been worth every second of the fight to get to where I am right now. Day one of a year later.