I am excited and a litle scared, all at the same time. That is so cliche, but so true.
For those of who do not know, I work for the newspaper, The Daily News, in Longview. A wonderful part of my job is the ability to write about life events. My surgery, which is scheduled for Jan. 10, 2012, is just one of those things about which I have been offered the privilege of writing.
My first piece will appear about a week before the surgery. At this point, the story is in the baby steps part of taking shape. I don't know how many pieces I will write, when the rest will occur or ... much of anything else at this point.
This blog is going to be an accompaniment to the stories.
To begin with, let me clue you in to how this process began. It started 44 years ago when I emerged into the world, a health 9 pounds, 8 ounces. I was a big girl, with broad shoulders. My father thought that I was a boy, and even went around proudly telling people he met that he had a son. Ummmm ... no.
I grew up a bit of a tomboy, but always had a voracious appetite. I drank milk by the gulp. I was the biggest girl in school ... always. I've inserted a photo from first grade. I am in the front row, dressed in red. I pretty much stand out like a sore thumb.
The boys in my class did tease me, but I don't recall too many trauma situations. For the most part, they ignored me. I grew accustomed to being ignored by boys and, later, by men.
Being overweight made you invisible. Oh, a few men now and then might look at you sideways, but not many. I was blessed to meet a man who took my size in stride. His name is Rick McCorkle.
Over the years, I ballooned from roughly 230 pounds to 310 in 2010. I was at the height of my misery, but still determined to eat myself to death if possible.
In January 2011, I began researching bariatric surgery (also known as weight loss surgery). At first I thought it would be a walk in the park: You have the surgery, then magically, the fat melts away. You can eat what you like, when you like and how much you like and still become thin.
WRONG!
I am still learning all the ins and outs of this surgery, but what I have found out is that I am still going to be fighting this battle. Even with the surgery, you can eat yourself right back to square one. And it's fairly easy to do.
I will not go into all the specifics in this post, but will say that there is a window of opportunity for me right after the surgery. It is a time period during which you feel no hunger. You force yourself to eat. At least, that's how it works out "ideally." I say that because, it doesn't work out that way for everyone.
So this surgery is just like every other aspect of life: There are no guarantees.
One of my favorite songs to play while I work out at the gym is "Lose Yourself," by rap singer Eminem. One of the lines talks about "you've got one shot." This is my one shot. The insurance will pay for one surgery. The surgeon might be willing to do a "do-over" at some point, but it would take a lot of convincing. Why would he want to do surgery on someone who failed once?
There are no three strikes for this one. It's one strike and if you're out, you're out.
That might not be technically true, but that's how I am looking at it. For the first time in my life, I want to follow through at something and succeed. This will be one of the most important things I've ever done in my life, and I don't plan on blowing it.
Until next time.
