DeLarla

I had to self-pay, so I took a 2nd mortgage on my house. I used to get my nails done, and I had a landscaper and a pool guy. I gave that all up so I could afford the payment. So I'm looking better but my yard is another story!

Oh, and I've lost 70 pounds and my parents still don't know! My mother would hire a dective to find out who did it to me, then she'd go to Mexico and have her way with my surgeon. Some things are better left unsaid to protect everyone.

Lots of people think like you do. I didn't tell anyone but hubby. Nobody at work knew. Not even one brother or sister or parent or relative. You can tell them when you are comfortable - it's your body.

Jamie, if you had to go back to a regular full time job today, would you be ready? I'm asking for a friend who will be banded this Thursday - she plans to go back to her teaching job next Monday. I certainly wasn't ready, but some people are a lot stronger. I hope you're doing better today.

I think they send special babies to special families.

Melissa, what kind of injections are you giving yourself? I've had two ports removed already. I had an open leaking incision for 8 months. I'm really curious, so please write back. I can share this with you in case your doctor didn't mention it, but the whole reason my wound wouldn't close was because the tube was too close to the surface of the skin, so if your port is right there at the surface, it probably won't ever close till they move it. Also, I just found out that even thought the doctors in Mexico said the Fluid wasn't infected, my new American surgeon said there was most definitely bacteria in the fluid. So when the slid the brand new port through the area, the new port became infected and caused the same problem. Let me know if you want to talk on the phone - since I've been through so much with ports. Good luck.

Tammy, I can't even believe I wrote that! Did I really lose 70 pounds? It's like a weird dream, but the scale says I lost that much so I gotta believe it. I feel exactly the same way as you - that even 10 pounds would be awesome. I wish I could get even 10 more off to prove to myself that I can still lose. You'll learn a lot at the seminar. Take notes so you can come back here afterwards to fine-tune your questions. Don't listen to just one person or one doctor, but gather tons of information so you can make good decisions.

By 5th grade I weighed 175, so I spent my entire life using willpower in one form or another to diet. I discussed this in depth with a a professional shrinky-dink, who basically explained that the human mind isn't designed to sustain such stringent and constant forces, so I basically ran out of willpower. I asked the shrinks how I can restock my willpower supply, so they gave me names of book to read. I can read and write till my eyes fall out and my fingers fall off, but fighting the demons 24/7 isn't something I can sustain for long periods, which is why I got the band. I'm just rambling at this point, but I want to thank everyone for always being here, because it feels good to get it off my shoulders.

Tammy, I don't know where to start since there's way too much information to put in one short post. I've lost 70 pounds since last May with my band, even though I'm the weird one that had lots of complications. I hit rock bottom and was laying in bed every night basically waiting to die. I had high blood pressure, anxiety disorder, high chloesterol, sleep apnea, painful feet, blah blah blah. I still have 70 more pounds to lose, but I can't seem to lose any more, but the first 70 pounds was worth it. My best advice is for you to learn the "Search" feature here. Just click on the Search button, then type the type of information you want. It will take you to tons of information that's already posted here. Good luck to you.

I have one cute pair of pants from Layne Bryant that are very flattering, but their shirts don't fit. Layne Bryant must have had short arms and big boobs, cuz all the shirts fit funny on me. I love Ross now that I can try on 18s. I'm the opposite of a pack rat, so I clear out my closet every couple months. I get bored with clothes easy, so I don't like spending too much (unless I splurge at -drool- Nordstrom.) So I fill up on Ross stuff since they have all sorts of cool brands. Now if I was dripping with money... totally different story cuz I'd be dripping with the cheesiest rhinestones and fur lined underwear!

Thank you, Zoe. I went shopping today since all I wear are hand me downs. I'm right inbetween an 18 and 20. So I bought one of each. I can actually sqeeze into an 18 (thunk, head just hit the floor.) I came home so motivated that I harnessed up the pooches and took a kick butt walk to the park, did weights and I'm downing extra Water. Thanks for the clothes, thank you thank you. I wish hubby would get off the couch and take me dancing in my new pants. Dream on. Babs, come back!

Recovery is different for all of us. Some people are super human and spring back to life as if they just had a tooth pulled, while others are a little slower. I personally got sick with bronchitis the second I woke up from recovery, so I had a really hard time. But even after my chest cleared up, it took a full 2 weeks before the gas & horrible belly disgustingness went away. I had such severe cramping, gurgling & nastiness that I rushed to Urgent Care, where they ran every known test for bacteria that I might have picked up in Mexico. But I came back clean as a whistle. I've talked to a lot of people like myself, who started feeling better after a couple days, but then went backward and got much worse for another week. I've also talked to a lot of people who went back to work just after a few days. YUCK! I never had actual "pain." My problem was discomfort from bloating, gas, diarreah, shoulder pain... mostly bloating. I looked like they left a watermelon in my belly. I walked as often as possible and drank warm tea with honey to sooth my belly, and I practically lived on my heavenly heating pad. That's my number one piece of advice, to buy a new kingsize heating pad for the shoulder & back pain. Good luck to you. Keep us updated.

Carla, congrads and THANK YOU for sharing! I'm not sure I've heard of your surgeon, but I'm in need of a new port and I can't afford one in the US (considering it cost over $40,000 to remove the bad one.) Glad you made it through with such a positive experience. Be good to yourself for a couple weeks, take it nice and easy and allow your loved ones to pamper you. Keep us updated. Again, congrads, and welcome to the other side.

I'm completely at the mercy of food. I wake up with it on my mind, I fight it every second of the night, it never leaves my mind. I have both the addiction and the habit. They go hand in hand. I turned to food at a very early age to replace love. No parents, no siblings bonds, no nurturing - so it was just me and food. Over the years it became habit, but all bad habits turn to addiction. Smoking is a bad habit, but try to quit and the physical sensation is too strong. Bad habits turn into addictions, and trying to break the addictive cycle without professional help will surely drive me mad one day. So much depends on our genes, also. I have an alcoholic father and a schizophrenic mother, so I'm zapped with compulsion and obssesion. It's really hard to admit on paper, but I'm like Daisy with the pain meds. When I'm lucky enough to get a bottle, I take them till their gone, pain or no pain, which keeps me from eating. Numbness. It's the only safe place I've ever known. Trish, my night eating was my big problem before getting Banded. I discussed it with my doctor, and he said the Band would help. It does help for the most part, but I don't have much of a fill, and I don't have a port so I can't get filled. So I'm flying solo while fighting the demons. It's extra extra hard for me cuz hubby is already alseep on Friday night, and it's not even 7pm. I already took the dogs to the park & did my weights, and now I have several hours before bedtime to be alone. Sucks. Sucks in a big bad way. And I've picked up some hobbies, but they can only occupy so much time. There come too many moments where I just plain have nothing to do. Ergo, LBT.

I can't believe that girl finally got banded... seems like I've been holding my breath for her! She must be relieved. Thanks for sharing.

Ouch, can you guys believe I'm actually gonna keep my mouth shut for a change? I would really love to spout off, too!

So am I supposed to hold my ground and keep all of Las Vegas tied up in traffic? I'm so confused! Part of me wants to get out and kiss the guy, while the other part wants me to punch him in the nose for ignoring me last year!

OH, and lip gloss... how much lip gloss does a girl need? A tube used to last me a year, now they're everywhere. I just got to have them! There are 3 on my desk, 2 in my purse. Nine on my bathroom sink, one stuck like glue to my truck's console, one rolling around the back seat. They are in the washer, the dryer, and my dogs chew on them. What's with the lip gloss?

Yep, yep, and yep. Hubby says I've had more booze since banding than since we moved to Vegas 10 yrs ago. And I can't stop spending the money we don't have, and I can't stop eating candy, and I can't stop gambling, and I can't stop....

I've had two ports removed due to infection. Trust me, YOU'LL KNOW! The area will be hot, inflamed, red, itchy... maybe the wound will open and leak. If you're having any of these symptoms, call your doctor.

WARNING - MAY BE OFFENSIVE!!! DO NOT scroll down if you are easily offended. I didn't write it, but I laughed purdy derned hard at it! DIVORCE LETTER Dear Connie, I know the counselor said we shouldn't contact each other during our "cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait anymore. The day you left, I swore I'd never talk to you again. But that was just the wounded little boy in me talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one to make contact. In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride's cost me a lot of things. I'm tired of pretending I don't miss you. I don't care about looking bad anymore. I don't care who makes the first move as long as one of us does. Maybe it's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. And this is what my heart says: "There's no one like you, Connie." I look for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they're not you. They're not even close. Two weeks ago, I met this girl at Flamingos and brought her home with me. I don't say this to hurt you, but just to illustrate the depth of my desperation. She was young, maybe 19; with one of those perfect bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give you. I mean, just a perfect body. Tits like you wouldn't believe and an ass that just wouldn't quit. Every man's dream, right? But as I sat on the couch being blown by this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we've made important in our lives. It's all so superficial. What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her better in bed? Well, in this case, yes, but you see what I'm getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my moderately attractive Connie? I doubt it. And I'd never really thought of that before. I don't know, maybe I'm just growing up a little. Later, after I'd tossed her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, "Why do I feel so drained and empty?" It wasn't just her flawless technique or her slutty, shameless hunger, but something else. Some nagging feeling of loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? And then it hit me. It didn't feel the same because you weren't there to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, Connie, I'm just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you. Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at the Holiday Inn lounge last year? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she figured I wasn't eating right without a woman around. I didn't know what she meant till later, but that's not the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the next thing you know, we're banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart's a total monster in the sack. She's giving me eerything, you know, like a real woman does when she's not hung up about her weight or her career and whether the kids can hear us. And all of a sudden, she spots that tilting mirror on your grandmother's old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we can watch ourselves. And it's totally hot, but it makes me sad, too. Cause I can't help thinking, "Why didn't Connie ever put the mirror on the floor? We've had this old vanity for what, 14 years, and we never used it as a sex toy." Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Vicky's just a kid and all, but she's got a pretty good head on her shoulders and she's been a real friend to me during this painful time. She's given me lots of good advice about you and about women in general. She's pulling for us to get back together, Connie, she really is. So we're doing Jell-O shots in a hot bubble bath and talking about happier times. Here's this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think of how much she looked like you when you were 18. And that just about makes me cry. And then it turns out Vicky's really into the whole anal thing, that gets me to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do you see how even then, when I'm thrusting inside your baby sister's cinnamon ring, all I can do is think of you? It's true, Connie. In your heart you must know it. Don't you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances away and start fresh? I think we can. If you feel the same please, please, please let me know. Otherwise, can you let me know where the fucking remote is. Love,

This post inspired me to go clothes shopping at lunch since everything I own is hand-me-downs right now. The good news is 20s are too big, but the bad news is 18s fit like sausage skin. I'm a perfect 19, only there's no such size.

I should be thrilled that I'm getting more attention these days. But honestly, how sad is it that people are stopping traffic to let me in these days? Last year at 313 lbs I'd wait 10 minutes to get into traffic from my office parking lot. Now, people actually stop the traffic behind them to let me in. There's a 2nd part to this strange irritation: People often force me to make traffic moves that I'm not ready to make. They see me waiting, and they wave me in. And I politely decline cause I don't need that lane, but they sit there waving frantically, so I end up accepting their offer. This just happened at lunch, and I had to go 2 blocks out of my way to turn around. I was trying to merge into a far lane, but a guy stopped and waved me in front of him, despite my 2 denials. I end up feeling bad for all the traffic staring at me, so I just go for it and drive places I don't need to be. Is this what normal people live like?

My husband always asks me if his Levis make his butt look big. He's pretty funny for a skinny guy!

Dang, and all I brought for lunch is a can of Spaghetti-Os. Old Mother Hubbard and all! I hope Chloe doesn't find out I borrowed her O's. I need that dessert!