whippledaddy

congrats Darcey! Ain't it Great!?

I'm there! Count me in! Can I help? Hey Kelly, whassa LMBM? All I could think of was Lemon Meringue Bowel Movement, but it just didn't seem right. Bandstock here I come!

What an inspiration Leo! We need these things from bandsters who are further out. It still has an unreal quality to it for me. While I'm fifty odd pounds down, and in smaller clothes already, it still doesn't seem real. Pics like yours bring it home somehow. You should be so proud, and thankful! Good job. Big "Attaboy"!

Sorry to hear of your accident. I've had them, and those comments about being glad you came out of it relatively uninjured just don't sink in for a couple of days. But it's true. After some of this wears off, you'll realize that the material things take a back seat to our health. I also agree with others that say seek any kind of medical help you can. Many injuries don't manifest themselves until much later, and without evidence of going to the doctor you might have a hard time connecting a future problem to the accident. I've heard this can be especially true in rear enders. Sorry about your car. Perhaps this is an opportunity to find one you like even more? I for one am glad that you are ok, and know that everything will be all right in the end. If it isn't all right, it isn't the end.

HUNG CHOW???????? Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, Wow! My Mom did the same thing. If you refused to eat the crust on the bread that's what you got at the next meal. Your plate right out of the fridge and in front of you with these pitiful dried up bread crusts. While everyone else got the real meal. Anything you refused to eat at a meal would come out at each meal until you did eat it. HMmmmmmmm. I have an abhorrence to throwing away food as well. But now I have too. I can't eat it all like I used to. Now. I'm hungry. My third meal is about to be cooked.

What everyone else said. I can't add anything but if you haven't been seen by an MD by now, go to your nearest emergency room. These may be nothing, or they may be vital early warning signs. But you'll never know until the testing is done. With your symptoms and circumstances tests can be done immediately that are normally scheduled weeks out. Go to the E.R., because we all love you and want you to be safe.

Geez, sounds like Erin's a little slow on the uptake. Suggest she go downtown with you and pick out her casket. When she asks why tell her. "You're killing yourself, and driving me nuts. The least you should do is save your family the job of picking out the casket." Then ask her if she's getting six of the male members of her family exercise equipmentfor Christmas. If she asks why explain to her that she'll want pall bearers who are fit, and strong. Sounds extreme, but you'd think she'd get the hint. Good luck. Coworkers can be the worst or best part of our day. Good luck, you deserve for things to get a little easier for you!

Tina, Congratulations to you! It's a tough decision, and it takes courage to decide to change. Change is the most frightening thing we go through in life. Many people stay fat and unhealthy because of this fear. I was afraid that the Band, or any WLS surgery for that matter, would change everything about my life. And so far it has. But the changes have been good. I no longer fear change, I welcome it. People in our lives have no idea how to be supportive, I'm convinced of that. I'm also convinced that many of the people who seem so unsupportive think they are being just the opposite. But remember, change is a frightening for them as it is for you. They too are afraid. After all, any change in you could result in a change in your relationships. They are afraid, and their fear has no reason behind it. They forget that you will still be YOU whether you band or not. They forget that your quality will shine through. You are afraid, and it's normal. Change is scary. Everyone you talk to knows someone who's best friend's aunt, had an acquaintance whose youngest daughter had the surgery and she only lost the weight on one side then her left leg blew up like a zeppelin and they went in and found the band broken into seventeen pieces and lodged near a perfectly preserved donut in her uterus. (preceding ludicrous story for illustration purposes only). So, if that kind of thing bothers you, by all means, keep it all on the down low. It's your life, and your business. But fear not. The beauty of the band is it's safety. Low complication rate. Non invasiveness, and ease of reversibility. Of all the courses out there it is the logical choice. I had to decide. I picked this, and now I'm one month out, it was easy, fast, and nearly painless. Well, a lot less painful than my overactive imagination had drawn it for me. Diet and exercise do not work. Lose the weight, gain it back, plus a little bonus. Will power is good for the next meal, and maybe for months, but sooner or later the will power fades, and we fall into our old ways. If the will power worked there would be no fat people, no alchoholics, no addicts of any kind. The way I saw it the only way to go was to choose between a short life and a longer one. Keeping my messed up relationship with food was the short life, the band was the longer one. Follow your own star. Make your own decision based on who you are. One thing about these people here, they know how to be supportive, visit often, read the old threads. Contemplate. But move yourself to action. As Red says in "Shawshank Redemption" it's time to get busy living, or get busy dying. I suggest living with the band, you'll smile more than you do now, you'll laugh daily. Good luck, and glad to see you here.

Well, it's been a month. And the day I came home from the hospital I vacuumed, did dishes, laundry, and mopped floors. You all are moms and wives. You know that somebody's gotta do it. Well, in my house that somebody is me. Patty can't and I don't have any kids to enslave. Doc only told me to lift less than 25 pounds for about a week. So I guess it's safe. Besides, I'm not lifting any more than I did every moment of my life, pre-band!

I've noticed that I always swallow a little air with a glass, and not with a straw. Maybe it's just one of those things that work on paper, but not in real life. You know, like it's been proven that bumblebees and junebugs can't possibly fly.

So today was the day Patty and I had set aside to do our Christmas shopping. Well, HER Christmas shopping. I don't have any family to speak of, so all I buy for is her. But she has lots of family, and they are on their best behaviour right now, too. Her family gives presents that are to die for. We were out shopping, her in her Amigo thing with a basket, and me walking beside her. We have division of labor, she tells me what to get and then I put it in the cart. It's her job to decide what we're buying for her side, and while we're in the stores I pick up necessities. I bought dog food. Got a great deal on fifty pounds. When we got home I had to carry all this stuff in the house. Sure was a lot of stuff! I carried the fifty pound bag of dogfood in last. About halfway up the steps I realized this is about the same amount of weight as I had lost. Hmmmmmm. Boy was it HEAVY! I realized I still have a couple more of those bags around my middle. No wonder I was tired, no wonder my knees hurt. No wonder I couldn't sleep. That sure put things into perspective for me. So try this the next time you're worried that it's not coming off fast enough, get something that weighs about what you've lost and carry it around for awhile. You will develop a healthy respect for what you've already accomplished. Now, I've gotta go rest. The stores are murder this time of year.

When I had my nutritional class for the surgery, the nutritionist was very adamant about no straws. So today I had a fill, and they had me sip some Water to make sure it was flowing through my banded tummy. Yep, you guessed it, the Doc gave me a cup with a straw. Hmmmmm.

That coming out from under is a strange feeling, isn't it? To me it's like swimming to the top of a pool of thick gravy. You can get your eyes open, and you can observe, but each time you sink back down for a bit. I found it a bit unsettling. But it was worth it! And you'll think it's worth it, too. Now remember, little butterfly, when you emerge you will experience a healing time, while your wings dry, and your soft shell hardens in the sun. Don't expect to fly just yet, but rest, spread your wings and relax. When the band is healed in, then you will get a fill, then the next journey starts. Once emerged, the young butterfly crawls out into the sun, her gossamer wings glistening and wet, her young body soft and supple. Soon the breeze comes by and begins to dry her, and the sun hardens her exoskeleton, she stretches, arches her strengthening back, and in one steady glorious motion, the wings spread. They catch the sun, then the wind, and she drops from her perch and falls for a bit, then catches a puff of breeze, and flutters her new wings, and through the dappled halls of the forest she rises, to soar into the summer sky.

Zoe, those stats may not be accurate because they are the result of guessing between three different scales. My surgeon's, my doc's, and Patty's pain Doc in Cleveland just had to weigh me, he could'nt believe it! But it's in the neighborhood of fifty pounds lost. So, hey, I"ll take it. Also, I weigh less by my home scale (don't worry folks, I weigh once a week) but at home I can get on the scale nekkid. Don't have to count the clothes.

Up 'yere in the North Woods, the days are short, and sunlight is a rare commodity, it's cold, and many days are grey. I go to work in the dark, and return home in the dark most days. How about elsewhere? Needing comfort food (aka fattening) is a symptom of the winter blahs (aka S.A.D.), does everyone in the Northern Hemisphere get this way? Also, "Here there be Dangers". Everybody and his brother are shoving goodies at you, and there's a snack tray in every breakroom, and home. It's so busy that the fast food lane looks appealing (even if the food doesn't), and it just takes less effort to let the nice person at the drive through window hand you a sack of carbs and fat. But, wasn't our bingeing at this time of year much worse before the band? I know mine was. Yep the goodies find their way into you, but I used to eat a whole pie, wash it down with milk, and then grab some Cookies to fill up the corners. Now I must eat less. My heart goes out to those brothers and sisters who are still waiting, still striving for a band. This season must be hardest of all on them. Especially now that they see some help on the horizon, which just can't seem to get here fast enough. Well, gotta go get ready for my very first fill which is today. Good luck to all, and Happy Holidays. Try to love your way through them, not eat your way through!

Tellie, I'm sending the same wishes back to you. May this season be a joyous one, may life be one big NSV, and may that feeling last all year long. No one but us knows how much we've gained by losing.

One day the world is grey, the sky an ashen hue. It takes all you can muster to suck the damp air into your lungs, and put one foot in front of the other. Then a morning comes when the world has changed while you dreamed of sunlit lands. It is fluffy and white, and drifts down the corridors of the sky like frozen feathers lost by some mythical bird soaring in the stratosphere. No matter where you stand and look up you see you're in a funnel of magic, and whatever your age you are transformed, and that place inside, where the children live, is closer now to the surface than ever. The world is virginal. No foot has marked the plains of your front yard. The silence is real, and tangible. No matter how hard you try, you feel a magic, coming from all around you. You hate the cold, and you hate the snow. It crunches and groans beneath your step, it complains of your passing. Yes, you drag the shovel, and you grumble under your cloudy breath, and when each neighbor waves, you wave back. Your smile is a little broader today, and so is everyone else's, your wave a little more exhuberant. You hate the snow, you hate the cold, but you cannot, absolutely cannot, hate this day. So you grin as you grumble, you hum as you shovel. Such is the magic of a snowy day.

I've been getting a bald spot right on the top of my head. My doctor said to put Preparation H on it. He said it wouldn't grow hair on my head, but it would shrink my head to fit what hair I have left. Seriously my doctor told me that there would be some hair loss, and thinning and that it was perfectly normal, and only temporary. If I were a lady I'd think this is a good excuse to buy hats.

Funny, but the whole time I was reading this thread the old Rock and Roll tune "The Backstabbers" was going through my head. These folks are true backstabbers, aren't they?

Theresa! Come next Wednesday you'll be changing! The chrysalis will crumble and the butterfly shall emerge! Don't be nervous, be excited! Good luck to you my Band Sister!

The addiction never goes away. That's why it's an addiction, and not just an affinity for. It will always be there, but it can get easier to deal with. Like all addictions, knowing you are an addict is the largest step in the battle. Forgetting you are a food addict is the first giant step down the path of failure. Since I've been banded I've found that even when I do delve into a little emotional eating, I can't eat that much, I've got some restriction, even before a fill. When I can't eat mass quantities of anything I get very anxious. So I must grab my own thoughts and turn them 'round to work on my actual feelings and emotions. In this way I'm able to fight against the demon of overeating. This way is working for me right now. But, whether food, or something else, I know addiction. It will change and twist. I will have to constantly learn new skills, and I will lose the weight. That's what works for me. Hope it helps.

She knows I'm your banded brother. I think she liked what she saw here. She is much less critical of me being on here now. In fact she kind of encourages it. It's funny, but I think reading some of my posts reached her in a way that everything else I do could not. It's a glimpse into how I feel about her, when she's not looking. Women are definitely mysterious. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Finally got my wife on here to look at this site. She scrolled around reading any post by me. I think she was looking to see if I said anything bad about her, lol. What she did finally say was: "I'm kinda jealous. You're on here talking to all these hot babes all the time." So, you guys are all hot babes. I knew it all along, but I wasn't about to tell Patty that. She had to figure it out for herself. Of course I had a good response. I said, "I talk to those hot babes, but I married the hottest babe of all". Whew. No couch.

Michelle said "Misery loves Company". And ain't it the truth? And when seeking company sometimes the miserable try to "kill us with kindness". Well, whether it was kindness or cruelty, yer just as dead. She's struggling. She thought she was drowning in a world of fat and frosting, but at least there was someone there to go down with her. Now you've grabbed a life preserver and she suddenly feels alone. Like a jilted lover she's trying to seduce you back to the dark side with carbs and comfort. And you know what? She's not even conscious that she's doing this. Her denial goes deep. Good denial always does. To the eating addicted (or obsessed, choose your term) food takes the same place heroin does to a junky. Food is how she makes herself better after the world hurts her. Food is how she makes amends when someone is angry at her. It's a Gift of the Magi, in a way. She is, after all, giving you the most important thing in the world, to her. She doesn't think you'll be her friend any longer now that you are breaking free from the chains of caloric prison. Her self esteem tells her that she isn't very likeable, and her subconscious takes every step to make sure that it is true. I'm not analyzing her. I'm analyzing me. When my wife first started on her RNY journey I would cook anything she asked, even if I knew it was going to make her go into dumping syndrome. Now I cook whatever she asks, but in the healthiest way possible. You may have to break it off with your friend. You may have to shun her. But no matter what, you've got to take care of Lisa. This is life and death. And, if you handle it right, you may be able to remove food from the equation of your relationship with her. If she can feel accepted, as she is, without the food issue, then she might be open to hearing how she, too, can be helped like you. This can be the beginning of a good thing. And I think you're just the little ball of fire to do it! Lotsa love, and prayers for you, Lisa. Whip.