Your Normal vs You're Normal

It’s nearing three years since being sleeved, yet I still have a hard time fathoming, perhaps even accepting the “new” me.  I feel like I’ve met people who have more recently undergone a sleeve or bypass surgery that are doing better than I am – not in terms of physicality, but more the mental game.  I’m left to wonder why this is – clearly it’s me, but what makes me special, unable to accept the remarkable changes I’ve undergone?  I think I now have an idea about the why.

Every Summer, my family goes to a beach in Port Aransas.  Texas beaches are not the blue waters and white sands of the Caribbean, or even Florida - but to us, it’s our home away from home.  Here, we eat, veg, swim, eat, relax…did I mention food plays a part?  Yes, friends – this sleever has managed to put on EIGHT (8!) pounds for two consecutive years.  Do I recommend this?  No.  However, it does serve two good reminders: it is very easy to gain weight, even with the sleeve as a tool; BUT, getting back on track quickly will take it off.  Or, another way to put it: when you do good most of the time, it’s ok to not be so good for a little while.  One of the local support group docs calls them “banquet days”, and it’s an important distinction from a cheat day in that guilt over what you eat should not be a factor.  Make that not so good choice and own it, enjoy it, reap the consequences, and when the banquet day (or week) is over, get back into routine.  Still, why can’t slider foods be cauliflower and beef liver? 

One day in the midst of our week long do-nothing excursion, I took a break from binging on trail mix and Pringles to head out to the water.   There is a ramp that crosses over the sand dunes connecting the condo to the beach, and most of it is at a gradual incline.  Halfway up the ramp, I passed a little girl, and in this context, I mean little to be young, maybe 8yrs old.  I know you will all welcome her with open arms one day, for she is a WLS patient in the making, her body weight easily double what would be considered healthy for her age.  She was eating a bag of Cheetos, her hands caked in orange dust, and though she walked slowly, she was out of breath from exertion.  Her mouth full of carby goodnesss, she looked over at me as I strolled by, and said with a heavy sigh “this is hard!”

I almost stopped in my tracks.  I looked at her and smiled a genuine smile, or at least that was my intent, for emotion overtook me.  I kept walking, but I thought about that encounter the rest of the trip, and often since.  I knew I would get around to blogging about it eventually. 

See, the thing is, kid…it’s not.  Or, at least, it’s not supposed to be.  At 8yrs old, you aren’t supposed to be gasping for air as you go up a few feet in altitude.  Running, jumping, playing should be instinctual, enjoyable, not a chore.  I wasn’t sure what I felt – anger, sadness, heartache…I just knew it wasn’t good.  And I wasn’t upset with the child, or her parents, or Frito-Lay, or the stupid inclined ramp.  I was saddened that this child would not, for a long time if ever, know what normal is, or what normal is supposed to feel like, and that every event and experience in her life will be masked by this bubble of weight she so struggles to carry. 

I know this, because the child is me.

Notice I said “is”, and not “was”.  In so many ways, I am still that pudgy child, just grown and without the layer of fat anymore that "protected" me. 

But…but…I’m normal now, right?  To the outside world, probably, yes.  I’m guessing strangers see a fairly unassuming dude with a mostly average build.  I stand between 5’10” – 5’11”, and hover between 190-195lbs.  Pretty normal, right?  But what is normal, or rather, what is “your” normal? 

I mentioned in my first post how I’ve been heavy my whole life; certainly during my formative years.  My normal was life as a heavy kid and teen, and I learned at an early age that life wasn’t fair, though I took a lot of ownership for that unfairness.  It was, after all, my “fault”, as I was the one who was different; not “normal.”  I made due with school desks that I squeezed into, often leaving a painful red mark on my swelled belly.  I took ridicule from lots of boys (and a few girls) without retaliating because the few times I did, I was the one who was punished.  I mused that though bullies were allowed to taunt me for being the slowest runner, I wasn’t allowed the same courtesy of pointing and laughing when one of them struggled on a math problem.  And, sure, kids can be cruel - but I also learned that many teachers in a position to do something about the teasing and bullying often turned a blind eye.  For example, It was completely acceptable for kids to peer into the window and snicker at me as I had my shirt off for a body fat screening, while the PE teacher halfheartedly waived them off.

In short, a lot of my experience from being different from the other kids taught me that I was less than, or at least that’s how I interpreted it - and that feeling is still what I fight daily.  I’m normal, but since I’ve never been normal, I have a hard time accepting that I’m normal, or even understanding what normal is supposed to feel like.  The head takes so much more time to catch up than the body, and sometimes I don’t feel as if mine ever will - especially when it comes to something as sensitive as, say, dating and romantic relationships.  That’s a whole blog post by itself, but when you’ve viewed yourself as “less than” and unattractive your whole life, how do you simply turn that off and allow others in??  It’s an area that I actually intend to seek professional counseling for – I may be in my mid-30s, but I might as well be an adolescent again dealing with a lot of experiences for the first time that most go through in middle or high school. 

I suppose this isn’t the most uplifting post before the holidays, but I try to keep it real.  I’ve treated the symptoms of my obesity problem, but I feel like I haven’t done enough to battle the disease itself – the underlying causes.  I am going to try to focus on that this next year.  I wouldn’t change what I’ve done.  But, there is something to be said for the simpler life of yesteryear, where choices were limited, and it was easier to make do; to be at peace with the tiny bubble that was my world.  Easier…but not better.  However, more choices leaves me vulnerable to making bad ones sometimes.  I guess that’s life…that’s normal.

It’s been a whirlwind year.  There’s a lot I still want to write about.  Coming soon:

I go all the way.  

And…

I go under the knife…again.  

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!  

          

Open Letter to "The Biggest Loser"

To the producers of “The Biggest Loser” :

I am writing to express my concern over the statement made by Dr. Huizenga disparaging weight loss surgery in the season finale episode.  Having battled my weight since I was 6yrs old, I have always found “The Biggest Loser” to be motivational and inspirational, and I share in the physical and emotional struggles of the contestants each season.  For personal reasons which I will outline below, I decided WLS was the best option to help me take charge of my health, and for Dr. Huizenga to dismiss WLS on a national stage as a potentially viable tool for the millions of obese Americans is irresponsible and quite frankly dangerous.

As mentioned, my weight issues began in childhood.  Though sadly commonplace to see overweight kids and teens in today’s society, growing up a fat kid in the 1980s subjected me to daily bullying and ridicule.  As an adult, my top weight neared 400lbs.  At 5’10”, and not large framed, my body fat percentage put me at risk for an early death.  I developed high blood pressure at the age of 14, and severe gout and arthritis in my 20s.  I exercised to the extent that I could, but pain and poor cardiovascular health prevented me from doing much.  I knew how to lose weight, but I didn’t know how to keep it off and still progress forward; to make a life change instead of going on a short-term diet.  Every year, I would make a new resolve, lose some weight, and eventually put it (and more) back on. 

January 2013 rolled around, and I didn’t have the yearning to make losing weight a priority again.  What was the point?  I had tried, and failed, countless times.  Moreover, the same exercise routine that I had been doing for years was getting harder, not easier.  I was in terrible shape, near my highest weight, and had no desire to do anything about it.  I knew if I didn’t do something, I would die sooner rather than later, and yet I didn’t care enough to make a change.  The feeling of panic that ensued at this revelation was the motivation I needed to explore weight loss surgery. 

In March 2013, I had a vertical gastrectomy.  I knew the risks, but I also knew the far greater risk of doing nothing.  Since then, I have lost over 180lbs.  My life has changed so drastically that it is hard for me to comprehend; it’s as if I’m living in a fantasy world that was so far from the realm of possibility just two years ago.   My fitness level has gone from a slow two mile walk that left me utterly exhausted to multi-mile runs that clear my head and prepare me for the day.   I participate in dozens of races, and what’s more, I look forward to them.   I fit in airplane seats without a problem.  I look good in clothes.   I go on dates.  I feel so much better about myself than I did. 

I commend anyone who can lose weight and maintain the loss for an extended period of time.  I did not feel I had it in me to do it “on my own”.  I needed the help of a tool – a great tool, but still a tool.   It limits the amounts of some foods I can consume at one time, but it does not wake me up at 5:30 every morning to work out, or get me out of the house to go to a support meeting, or stop me from eating a pint of ice cream.  I do (or not do) these things on my own.  The gastric sleeve helped give me a new lease on life, one in which I hope I never to take for granted.  It jump started my weight loss journey, but it did not do it for me.  I’ve worked very hard to achieve and maintain a high percentage of weight loss, and the healthy habits I have developed to maintain my weight loss have been done entirely on my own.    

Dr. Huizenga congratulated Rob on his transformation, saying that he did it without resorting to that “distasteful weight loss surgery everyone wants to have”.  The distasteful remark aside for the moment, I have never met anyone who wanted weight loss surgery.  I have met many who, like myself, opted to have it performed as a perceived last ditch effort to save their life.  You know who I have never met?  A contestant from “The Biggest Loser”, because there have been so few of them.  That these contestants auditioned, were selected to be on the show, and were able to put their work and family lives on hold for months in order to save their lives is fantastic and admirable.   However, this does nothing to help the vast majority of the overweight American public. 

I do not profess weight loss surgery is the right solution for all who struggle with their weight.  I believe it was the right solution for me.  The argument can definitely be made that if a lifestyle change is required for the surgery to succeed, why not try to alter one’s lifestyle before surgery and avoid potential complications.  Had Dr. Huizenga made a comment to this nature, it would have been perfectly acceptable.  However, for him to blanketly dismiss WLS to the American public as a possible tool in the fight against obesity in my humble opinion does more harm than good.  His intentions may have been honorable, but he came across as judgmental and condescending to those who have either had or are considering such a procedure. 

As for the distasteful remark, I fail to see how this term even applies to WLS.  Despite the billions of dollars spent on the diet and fitness industries each year, obesity rates continue to rise.  Weight loss surgery is an extreme method to combat obesity and should only be used in extreme circumstances; however, there are plenty of people at or near that point, and these people should know that WLS is a potential option without a doctor on a national stage implying it is a fad or dismissing its effectiveness.

I have been a fan of “The Biggest Loser” since it first aired.  It is an uplifting show, and gives hope to those that may have none.  I also feel it is one of the few programs interested in bettering the health of America.  However, if the goal of TBL really is to help those afflicted by morbid obesity, I question whether Dr. Huizenga should be the doctor of public appearance on the show.  He is entitled to his personal opinions on weight loss surgery, but I see the very real possibility of someone taking his comments to heart, continuing the weight loss roller coaster, and never exploring weight loss surgery when, at the very least, it is an option worth considering.  If TBL sees it fit to continue leaving Dr. Huizenga in his current role, then perhaps he should check his own distasteful comments at the door.