Alas, here we are.
Yet again, I am coming to you with visions of Sports Illustrated full page spreads and centerfolds, bikinis, spray tans, and fabulosity in its thinnest form!
Nope. Not taking before and after photos, or promising to post progress reports like last time. You know why? Because I cried every time I realized that no matter WHAT I did, I am accountable to my readers for showing progress that isn’t being made. And it’s not that I don’t try…because I DO. But, you see, according to my new favorite primary care physician, Dr. Hubbard? Some people are juts BIG. Point blank, period, the end.
Now see, me? I don’t buy all that. Sure, I’ve never been SMALL. And it seems no matter what I do, be it medically supervised diet drugs, Zumba [like my life DEPENDS on those dang salsa steps. I have dance battles with my teacher, and of course as a result? She LOVES me.], gym memberships, or even indulging in my favorite spray tans just to create the ILLUSION of weight loss…I get nowhere.
So, after a couple of years of research and hesitation? It’s Bariatric Surgery time.
I originally thought I’d go with the Lap Band, but given the sheer petrification I experience even LOOKING at needles (I almost passed out getting my round 2 Gardasil shot today, and yet, I walk around pretending to have a GUN in my Betsey Johnson Bag!), it doesn’t seem like quite the fit for me. My surgeon feels my commitment level is right on track for a band, and that’s saying a lot, because the band is an assistive device…it does NOT guarantee weight loss without ample effort. Yet, Dr. Takata feels that a Sleeve Gastrectomy, although a new and upcoming procedure by comparison, will be much more beneficial for me. Less post-operative care, and more post-operative results! Basically, a sleeve procedure is Dr. Too-HOT-a….I mean, Takata, cutting out a large portion of my stomach and stapling off the remainder, leaving me with a stomach relatively the size of a banana.
So, in theory, I can eat a banana, and be FULL literally. I am allergic to bananas…but you see my point! The risks are definitely still there…but I guess that’s to be expected no matter what. After all, this is an operation that is going to CHANGE. MY. LIFE.
Change is good. And I am going to be GREAT with all of the extra opportunities afforded to me by a thinner life. My Dad, who has been complaining about how he doesn’t understand why I’m so big my whole life, acts like this is the worst idea ever. It’s hard for me to NOT go off on him…seeing as I BEGGED to go to Fat Camp for years, and homeboy did NOT hook it up. The Boy thinks I’m being TOO drastic, and keeps saying “I think you look great just the way you are…why would you wanna change?” and yet, he is a personal trainer! With the body of a GOD [hence, why I can't quite seem to hold the ignorant comments(along with my body) against him].
The crazy thing is…I’m not UNHAPPY being “fat.” I try to tell myself I am, but really, my biggest problems with it boil down to vanity.I was Prom Princess, had tons of friends in high school and dealt with minimal teasing. I don’t have any obesity related diseases, nor have I ever been ridiculously limited physically. I played basketball, I cheered, I did Colorguard, and for crying out loud, I climbed a 45 degree mountainside in tennis shoes last month! In the freezing cold! Lol.
But the fact of the matter is that someday, when I’m a mother (Lord willing?) and wife and I’m too exhausted from carrying around all this weight to play tag with my kids, or take my dog for a run, or go do some fun exciting rock climbing date with my husband? It’d ruin me. So I’m looking at this as a preventative measure. I am 23 years old. This is the time for drastic measures, because I am still at a point where I can bounce back and actually ENJOY it.
After all, how many of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition cover chicks are over 30? HA!
I WILL get my centerfold.
And I’ll send each and every one of you a signed copy. Hide it from your men. Just saying!