Background

I'm fat...  It's a fact that although obvious in that such a state would preclude the need for Lap Band surgery or some other remedy, it bares some discussion on how I got to this state of bulk.  I don't want to spend a tremendous amount of time on this, as I would like this blog to be more about my slimming journey to wellness than a look back at my climb to obesity, but none the less some time is warranted.

I wasn't born this way, although it wasn't long before the word obese was used to describe me.  In fact it took only a week.  For those who do not know I grew up in Connecticut before moving to Florida in the Summer of 1993.  It was to be the promise of a new life and I wanted to start it right and prepared.  To that end I gathered up my medical records from my family doctor who I had had since birth to bring with me to Florida.  To my astonishment I had been born thin and frail as indicated by the first hand written entry.  Next to this entry were instructions to take me home and feed me to gain weight.  Maybe not the best instructions to give a Portuguese grandmother as the very next entry dated a mere week later read, "child is obese, please stop feeding it!"  Not quite sure how I went from thin and frail to obese in a week, but alas that is history.

My grandmother was an incredible woman, who was my primary care giver at home while my mother was at work.  She had one weakness, probably the same as all Portuguese grandmothers, maybe even all grandmothers in general, that of a hungry and insatiable child.  She couldn't deny me a thing when it came to food.  To say her cooking was the best was an understatement.  I know probably everyone says that about their mother or grandmother, but in my case it is based on many opinions beyond my own.  I still remember as a child the seemingly never ending smiling faces of family members parading through on holidays to get their fill.  I remember a local restaurant complaining that they needed her to provide more of her rice pudding as the several trays she provided would disappear in only a couple hours.  I remember friends coming over and wondering what she may have made or just to partake in her home made ice tea.  She made anything from traditional Portuguese dishes such as bacalhau assado to typical American fare such as spaghetti and meatballs.  I can't even tell you about her chicken cutlets.  To consume them bordered on a religious experience.  Alas, I don't want to go too far down this track as it is making me hungry.  I believe I've made my point.

This is in no way meant to blame my poor grandmother; it is merely to illustrate the backdrop.  She only created an ample delicious supply.  I myself provided the insatiable demand.  I am not going to be the addict who blames his suppliers.  I am responsible.  I alone did this to myself and I alone can change it.  There were plenty of times where my grandmother would tell me I had enough or that I should cut back or limit how much I was eating.  I couldn't seem to stop myself.  I felt like I had an insatiable whole in my belly to fill.  One I was determined to feed, whether it was my grandmother's incredible cuisine or my local favorite haunts such as Pepe's Pizza.  I confess to a particular weakness for pizza.  Weight Watcher's would call it my red light food, one where I would be nearly incapable of having in moderation.  I dare say I owe a large part of my obesity to this one food.  God help me I love it so....

On the reverse side of the equation, I was always an active child.  I was very into sports and loved to participate.  I even lettered as a starter of my high school's tennis team.  Unfortunately I didn't balance the ledger; my intakes far outweighed my activity.  I dare say it may have taken Michael Phelps' prowess in the pool to exhaust what I was eating as a young person.  I was cursed with my mother's flat feet and her fear of water relegating me to limited activity as my bulk grew through the years.  I certainly didn't always proceed with reckless abandon.  I've had many attempts through the years at stemming the tide through diet and exercise.  I even have a weight record that goes back to prior to adulthood in an endless cycle of Yo-Yo dieting.  I've done all manner of methods from Weight Watchers to Adkins;  low fat, calorie counting, point systems, low carbs, low sugars, water, soup, etc, etc, etc...  Not to say I didn't have varying degrees of success along the way on some of these attempts.  In fact I remember once going as far as losing as much as 50 pounds on one combination.  Sadly there would always be something to derail my progress or success.  Sometimes it would be an injury such as when I began my chronic battle with plantar fascitis.  For those who do not know, it is a sever debilitating condition of the feet which renders them useless for exercise.  I would at times have to nearly crawl to the bathroom first thing in the morning as it is when the pain was most sever.  Some times I would get discouraged after reaching an endless plateau weight where despite the best of efforts I couldn't break through.  There was always an excuse to eat; perhaps a holiday, a vacation, any social gathering would due.

At some point I started resolving myself to a life of bulk and an eventual surrender to gravity.  But something amazing happened.  I met the woman of my dreams, who became my wife.  With her by my side I had a renewed strength, a resolve.  Unfortunately the usual methods had limited success.  It appears that even with the promise of a new bride and an approaching wedding date, the pounds wouldn't come off with any regularity.  Perhaps my age was catching up to me, maybe it was slowing my metabolism to a turtle's crawl.  Even worse still was my health started going south.  Not to say I always felt like the healthiest individual, but in general I felt fine or at least as fine as I came to expect to feel as normal.  Over the last several years that changed.  Perhaps my youthful vigor gave way to the stodgery of middle age.  I don't know, but it wasn't good.  I lost my breath; I couldn't sleep; I could barely walk.  My activity level was flat-lining.  I felt like I was eating less yet it didn't matter; the die was cast.  My body had sustained damage, maybe permanent?  God I hope not.  A visit to the doctor confirmed some of my worst fears, I had become diabetic.  This put a scare in me.  It was time for a change.  I needed a change desperately.

I can't say that Lap Band surgery or other bariatric optons such as gastric bypass weren't considered before, but my need was never so grave.  I needed to feel that I had exhausted other options, I had to get over my fear of the surgery itself, I had to know it could work, and most of all I had to be ready.  Luckily someone very close to me had followed a similar path and came to this realization a change was needed in their life sooner than I.  They embarked on their journey over a year ago now and the results for them have been astounding, a real success story.  I can't emphasize enough the difference this has made in my thinking.  To know and see on a personal level the great success the surgery could be is all I needed to assuage my fears and doubts.  I was inspired.  It was time.  Time to make a change, a life lasting change.

me