vikingbeast

I have stopped telling people what I'm doing. I had a nurse friend—a nurse, for crying out loud!—who thought it was cheating because she literally thought I was going in for some kind of large-scale liposuction and was going to come out the hospital with abs. Other people have told me horror stories.
So I'm not going to tell anyone else. I've started telling people I'll be out for hernia repair surgery, which may or may not be true. I'll find a different way to explain the tiny portions of food.
In the meantime—remember this: your surgeon is giving you a tool to help you with THE most restrictive diet you or anyone you know has ever followed. The gift of not feeling that awful gnawing hunger, the gift of literally not being able to fall off the wagon while you figure your stuff out.
And anyone who decides to poop on that deserves any tongue lashing you want to dish out.

So I am still pre-op but have put myself on a pre-op diet (not required, but in mind a good idea). The Protein drinks are ridiculously sweet... but the result of them is that when I took my daughter out for ice cream tonight (fulfilling a promise), I had a bite and was done. Like... WHO AM I EVEN.

I'm such a control freak (I'm a project manager!)... I actually discovered the hidden place on my insurer's website where I could track it. I actually knew about the approval before my clinic did 🤣

Are you close enough to your in-laws or his friends to be able to try and get them on your side? I know that when a friend's wife had surgery and he was against, we all kind of ganged up on him a little bit, intervention-style. ("It doesn't matter what you think about the surgery, she's your wife and you're being kind of a 🍆, bro.")

I'm trying really hard to keep my opinions of your husband's total lack of support out of here, but I'm struggling... UGH.

I think maybe you need to confide in a friend and have them do it. You're going to need someone to talk to ("why am I in a stall?" "omg if I look at another Protein Drink I'm going to scream!").

And—tell your husband this isn't cheating. It's basically a stricter diet and exercise program than he's ever been on, and a physical restriction that FORCES you to behave and re-learn how to eat.

I have stopped telling people what I'm doing. I had a nurse friend—a nurse, for crying out loud!—who thought it was cheating because she literally thought I was going in for some kind of large-scale liposuction and was going to come out the hospital with abs. Other people have told me horror stories.
So I'm not going to tell anyone else. I've started telling people I'll be out for hernia repair surgery, which may or may not be true. I'll find a different way to explain the tiny portions of food.
In the meantime—remember this: your surgeon is giving you a tool to help you with THE most restrictive diet you or anyone you know has ever followed. The gift of not feeling that awful gnawing hunger, the gift of literally not being able to fall off the wagon while you figure your stuff out.
And anyone who decides to poop on that deserves any tongue lashing you want to dish out.

I'm sorry, but the above is terrible counsel.
A 50 ml shot of vodka is 110 calories (for Americans, a standard 1.5 oz. shot of vodka is 96 calories.) 8 shots of vodka is nearly 900 calories just in alcohol, completely empty of nutrition. Most post-surgery diets ask you to stay under 1000 calories a day.

I am still pre-op (two weeks and a bit away), so I am just here to say I understand exactly where you are coming from.

But here's a story. Tonight I had to buy dinner. I've been on the pre-op diet I put myself on for a week now. I went in and ordered my usual, a chicken shawarma plate with rice and salad. Normally I'd put that away with two giant pita breads and a couple pieces of maamoul or baklawa to boot.

I couldn't even eat the bread. It stuck in my belly. I ate a spoonful of rice and went, "Meh." I had about four ounces of the chicken and some of the salad. I didn't even buy the baklawa.

It truly gave me hope that maybe, just maybe, I can make this stick when I'm no longer hungry, and do it for the 90 days it takes to make it a lifestyle change. (Obviously the restriction lasts past 90 days, just quoting one of those self-help books people insist on giving me.)

I swear. You can do this. You are a budding bad-@$$, you just don't know it yet.

I have stopped telling people what I'm doing. I had a nurse friend—a nurse, for crying out loud!—who thought it was cheating because she literally thought I was going in for some kind of large-scale liposuction and was going to come out the hospital with abs. Other people have told me horror stories.
So I'm not going to tell anyone else. I've started telling people I'll be out for hernia repair surgery, which may or may not be true. I'll find a different way to explain the tiny portions of food.
In the meantime—remember this: your surgeon is giving you a tool to help you with THE most restrictive diet you or anyone you know has ever followed. The gift of not feeling that awful gnawing hunger, the gift of literally not being able to fall off the wagon while you figure your stuff out.
And anyone who decides to poop on that deserves any tongue lashing you want to dish out.

I have stopped telling people what I'm doing. I had a nurse friend—a nurse, for crying out loud!—who thought it was cheating because she literally thought I was going in for some kind of large-scale liposuction and was going to come out the hospital with abs. Other people have told me horror stories.
So I'm not going to tell anyone else. I've started telling people I'll be out for hernia repair surgery, which may or may not be true. I'll find a different way to explain the tiny portions of food.
In the meantime—remember this: your surgeon is giving you a tool to help you with THE most restrictive diet you or anyone you know has ever followed. The gift of not feeling that awful gnawing hunger, the gift of literally not being able to fall off the wagon while you figure your stuff out.
And anyone who decides to poop on that deserves any tongue lashing you want to dish out.

I have stopped telling people what I'm doing. I had a nurse friend—a nurse, for crying out loud!—who thought it was cheating because she literally thought I was going in for some kind of large-scale liposuction and was going to come out the hospital with abs. Other people have told me horror stories.
So I'm not going to tell anyone else. I've started telling people I'll be out for hernia repair surgery, which may or may not be true. I'll find a different way to explain the tiny portions of food.
In the meantime—remember this: your surgeon is giving you a tool to help you with THE most restrictive diet you or anyone you know has ever followed. The gift of not feeling that awful gnawing hunger, the gift of literally not being able to fall off the wagon while you figure your stuff out.
And anyone who decides to poop on that deserves any tongue lashing you want to dish out.

So glad to hear you are getting support. Maybe she can thwap some sense into her son while she's there... if he were around here he'd get the chancla, no matter how old he is.

Exactly the same as me. I’m doing the same. I’ve lost 6 lbs in a week. Obviously some of that is Water but it’s not nothing!

Today I was walking through the center of town (closed to cars) and was people-watching... how easily they moved, how energetic they seemed to be.
I'm having a lot of trouble reconciling the idea that a year from now, if I stick to the plan and keep working the way I know I can, I could be that way.
I've been so obese for so long that I can't imagine a life where I can just... go to a store and buy pants. Or just... decide to sleep somewhere else without having to pack up my CPAP. Or just... run for the sake of running. I literally cannot imagine it. It should be a source of motivation, but it's impossible for me to wrap my mind around it. And then I get all overwhelmed.
I've failed so many times before, that I don't dare let myself hope.

It totally does, PLUS you're likely in ketosis. I'm having the same problem... death farts and dead-animal breath.

The only thing you can do is encourage the new hair to grow (the loss is because you're temporarily not growing new hairs and the old hairs are at the end of their life and shedding off). Protein and biotin...

Y'all are seriously getting me through the stress here. Thank you so much.

I have stopped telling people what I'm doing. I had a nurse friend—a nurse, for crying out loud!—who thought it was cheating because she literally thought I was going in for some kind of large-scale liposuction and was going to come out the hospital with abs. Other people have told me horror stories.
So I'm not going to tell anyone else. I've started telling people I'll be out for hernia repair surgery, which may or may not be true. I'll find a different way to explain the tiny portions of food.
In the meantime—remember this: your surgeon is giving you a tool to help you with THE most restrictive diet you or anyone you know has ever followed. The gift of not feeling that awful gnawing hunger, the gift of literally not being able to fall off the wagon while you figure your stuff out.
And anyone who decides to poop on that deserves any tongue lashing you want to dish out.

I have stopped telling people what I'm doing. I had a nurse friend—a nurse, for crying out loud!—who thought it was cheating because she literally thought I was going in for some kind of large-scale liposuction and was going to come out the hospital with abs. Other people have told me horror stories.
So I'm not going to tell anyone else. I've started telling people I'll be out for hernia repair surgery, which may or may not be true. I'll find a different way to explain the tiny portions of food.
In the meantime—remember this: your surgeon is giving you a tool to help you with THE most restrictive diet you or anyone you know has ever followed. The gift of not feeling that awful gnawing hunger, the gift of literally not being able to fall off the wagon while you figure your stuff out.
And anyone who decides to poop on that deserves any tongue lashing you want to dish out.

I could lose every gram of fat on my body and still be in the Obese category for BMI (yes, I know everyone says this, but I have receipts—and decades of powerlifting and strongman aren't going to suddenly disappear off my frame no matter what I do). It's strangely freeing, and allows me to use body fat percentage as a guide instead of the useless-to-me BMI. It was nice for the one moment where they needed my BMI to qualify me, but if I had 15% body fat I'd still technically qualify for surgery (35.8 BMI).

I'm expecting lose some lean body mass—can't go that low-calorie and not—but this is all about reducing comorbidities and allowing me to get to a spot where I'm not tripping weight limits on things all the time.

Today I imagined getting on an airplane and not having everyone scrunch their faces slightly ("please no please no please no please no oh thank god").

Today I was walking through the center of town (closed to cars) and was people-watching... how easily they moved, how energetic they seemed to be.
I'm having a lot of trouble reconciling the idea that a year from now, if I stick to the plan and keep working the way I know I can, I could be that way.
I've been so obese for so long that I can't imagine a life where I can just... go to a store and buy pants. Or just... decide to sleep somewhere else without having to pack up my CPAP. Or just... run for the sake of running. I literally cannot imagine it. It should be a source of motivation, but it's impossible for me to wrap my mind around it. And then I get all overwhelmed.
I've failed so many times before, that I don't dare let myself hope.

I am obsessively monitoring the case rates in my county, which have gone down a little bit, but school started. My VSG is scheduled for 9/14 and I am desperately hoping they don't shut things down. My spies in the ER say things are busy but not panic-inducing. All I can do is light a candle and pray to whoever the patron saint of fat people is.

I am obsessively monitoring the case rates in my county, which have gone down a little bit, but school started. My VSG is scheduled for 9/14 and I am desperately hoping they don't shut things down. My spies in the ER say things are busy but not panic-inducing. All I can do is light a candle and pray to whoever the patron saint of fat people is.

I'm sorry, but the above is terrible counsel.
A 50 ml shot of vodka is 110 calories (for Americans, a standard 1.5 oz. shot of vodka is 96 calories.) 8 shots of vodka is nearly 900 calories just in alcohol, completely empty of nutrition. Most post-surgery diets ask you to stay under 1000 calories a day.

You do have to take Vitamins, supplements, and a B complex for the rest of your life on the sleeve, too, and you start with liquids (surgeons vary, some require Clear Liquids before you get thicker liquids), then on to purées and soft foods, and my surgeon recommends avoiding things like cruciferous vegetables (e.g., cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower, kale, Brussels sprouts...) until you are fully healed and know your own reactions.

I don't think there's any such thing as a bariatric procedure with a simple post-op.