bfrancis

I stand and tip my hat to you all. Thank you for your positive encouragement and words of concern. awill - they do indeed help. Thank you. imaluckydog - very much appreciated thank you - I believe! PJB - If I knew what the exact issues were, that would be a way to help out a million others. Not only would I bottle that - I'd sell it too! Thank you. arkansasbandster - a lot of encouragement there. I indeed need to find my internal source of inspiration (as opposed the the external sauce I am currently working with!). A very strong quote there. I'm hoping this has been the first step on the ladder - indeed four little extra steps have been added on top of my first. Thanks again people (here's me with a big fat glass of water in my hand...and a piece of chocolate - baby steps!)

I’m suffering. I’m rubbish. I’m a failure. I can’t do it. I didn’t think I should write about this on a weight loss surgery blog as it doesn’t entirely have relevance. Especially as I signed out almost two months ago saying I wouldn’t be writing any more. Ah, but how the slow winter nights of insomnia have a way of thrusting the urge to splurge upon one’s frame. So, why am I suffering? Why am I rubbish? A failure? And what exactly can’t I do? All will be revealed in the next exciting paragraph. With as much stalling as I can muster – I am slowly coming to the painful realisation that I might well be an alcoholic. Ouch. Did I say that? Well – I may not be an alcoholic, but indeed I am a heavy drinker. All who know me and love or hate me will vouch for that very fact. But when it comes to being a true alcoholic – the definitions seem so muddy, I am not sure. Or am I? I have no withdrawal symptoms when I stop and I am not dependent, but – I continue to drink despite the negative social effects, despite the financial drain on my less than healthy financial state and despite the effects it has on my health. This is where I am stretching the relevance to a weight loss issue. But lately, I am wondering whether it is more closely linked than I initially thought. Over the last few months, my progress into the halls of The Temple of Normal BMI has halted. My eating has lessened and my exercise has increased. My drinking has also picked up a tad. Goddammit, there lies the big bloody bastard bugger-face staring me straight in the eyes. I know it’s there. I can see it plainly and simply. Alcohol is causing me to not lose weight, despite being over-tightened on the band front. Alcohol is causing me to slowly lose friends. Alcohol is causing me to lose money. Alcohol is having great effects on my family life and alcohol is causing me to hate myself. So you can see the attraction I have to it, eh! I am writing this because I am so disappointed in myself and have used this outlet to vent and eventually feel better about the problems at hand. However, I don’t think this problem is going to be sorted by vitriolic venting. What has become clear in this whole gastric band journey is the addiction I had to food – and probably still do. You may well catch me of an evening desperately trying to eat a juicy steak. After each mouthful – running to the lavatory to expel what I have just swallowed as my band is currently just a little too tight. I could easily eat less cumbersome things to ensure ease of passage – but I want the steak. And I will return to the plate and repeat the same procedure perhaps four or five times. Because the band hasn’t cured my need to satisfy my desire for flesh! But it has offered me a way to control it should I so desire. It has helped me realise my addiction more than anything else. A knowledge which I am grateful for; but sometimes a little foolhardy with. I have so far, despite my pitfalls and apparent bulimic state, been relatively good with all other food (I won’t bore you with my chocolate rushes). Booze on the other hand has no control in place. I am at its mercy. In fact, I am at MY mercy. Let’s face it – I decide when to drink – I am aware and I am fully conscious of what it is doing. I was under the grand illusions as I started to lose weight that I would quit drinking. I know the reason I do it and it is sadly very simple. I do it because I am terribly shy. When I have had a drink however, I am quite the opposite. I become bombastic, gregarious and hugely annoying and people, despite their best efforts, can’t fail to notice me. Something in me likes that. The shy retiring giant hates being shy and retiring and craves people to remember him. Even if it means the memories for them are bad and the memories for me are non-existent. I figured it would be the end to my drinking because I wouldn’t be so shy. Losing weight would give me more confidence and make me more outgoing and allow me to stand tall and have conversations with people on an equal standing knowing that they were talking to a person, not a walrus. But, such is life that when a walrus loses weight – it is still a walrus. I am still painfully shy and I still find it difficult to talk to people. Maybe years of fatness have ingrained shyness into my psyche or maybe I am just shy because I am. The gastric band has given me a great opportunity to overcome some of my demons. An opportunity that I sometimes abuse and take for granted – time has a wonderful way of letting one forget their blessings. What it hasn’t done is offer me a cure for all of my other failings. Perhaps writing this will be the first step on another journey of self-discovery and perhaps it will just be another piece of prose that adds to my posthumous biography that will never be written. I decided to write this because I do feel it is of relevance to people considering having the surgery as it has shown me that I was perhaps a little over-eager to consider it the answer to my problems instead of a pretty good guide to help me find my own answers – a guide that is sometimes ignored. So, after that marathon outpouring of in most angst and in summation: I’m suffering - yes I am, but I am admitting I need help, so my suffering on that side of things is perhaps no longer in silence and it may well help my future efforts. I’m rubbish - yes again. But, I know I have a way to crawl out of the trash can. It’s just up to me to do it. I’m a failure - not entirely, because it’s not yet over. Maybe I can turn things around. I can’t do it - Yes I can. Originally posted at: www.lapbandblog.org.uk

I’m suffering. I’m rubbish. I’m a failure. I can’t do it. I didn’t think I should write about this on a weight loss surgery blog as it doesn’t entirely have relevance. Especially as I signed out almost two months ago saying I wouldn’t be writing any more. Ah, but how the slow winter nights of insomnia have a way of thrusting the urge to splurge upon one’s frame. So, why am I suffering? Why am I rubbish? A failure? And what exactly can’t I do? All will be revealed in the next exciting paragraph. With as much stalling as I can muster – I am slowly coming to the painful realisation that I might well be an alcoholic. Ouch. Did I say that? Well – I may not be an alcoholic, but indeed I am a heavy drinker. All who know me and love or hate me will vouch for that very fact. But when it comes to being a true alcoholic – the definitions seem so muddy, I am not sure. Or am I? I have no withdrawal symptoms when I stop and I am not dependent, but – I continue to drink despite the negative social effects, despite the financial drain on my less than healthy financial state and despite the effects it has on my health. This is where I am stretching the relevance to a weight loss issue. But lately, I am wondering whether it is more closely linked than I initially thought. Over the last few months, my progress into the halls of The Temple of Normal BMI has halted. My eating has lessened and my exercise has increased. My drinking has also picked up a tad. Goddammit, there lies the big bloody bastard bugger-face staring me straight in the eyes. I know it’s there. I can see it plainly and simply. Alcohol is causing me to not lose weight, despite being over-tightened on the band front. Alcohol is causing me to slowly lose friends. Alcohol is causing me to lose money. Alcohol is having great effects on my family life and alcohol is causing me to hate myself. So you can see the attraction I have to it, eh! I am writing this because I am so disappointed in myself and have used this outlet to vent and eventually feel better about the problems at hand. However, I don’t think this problem is going to be sorted by vitriolic venting. What has become clear in this whole gastric band journey is the addiction I had to food – and probably still do. You may well catch me of an evening desperately trying to eat a juicy steak. After each mouthful – running to the lavatory to expel what I have just swallowed as my band is currently just a little too tight. I could easily eat less cumbersome things to ensure ease of passage – but I want the steak. And I will return to the plate and repeat the same procedure perhaps four or five times. Because the band hasn’t cured my need to satisfy my desire for flesh! But it has offered me a way to control it should I so desire. It has helped me realise my addiction more than anything else. A knowledge which I am grateful for; but sometimes a little foolhardy with. I have so far, despite my pitfalls and apparent bulimic state, been relatively good with all other food (I won’t bore you with my chocolate rushes). Booze on the other hand has no control in place. I am at its mercy. In fact, I am at MY mercy. Let’s face it – I decide when to drink – I am aware and I am fully conscious of what it is doing. I was under the grand illusions as I started to lose weight that I would quit drinking. I know the reason I do it and it is sadly very simple. I do it because I am terribly shy. When I have had a drink however, I am quite the opposite. I become bombastic, gregarious and hugely annoying and people, despite their best efforts, can’t fail to notice me. Something in me likes that. The shy retiring giant hates being shy and retiring and craves people to remember him. Even if it means the memories for them are bad and the memories for me are non-existent. I figured it would be the end to my drinking because I wouldn’t be so shy. Losing weight would give me more confidence and make me more outgoing and allow me to stand tall and have conversations with people on an equal standing knowing that they were talking to a person, not a walrus. But, such is life that when a walrus loses weight – it is still a walrus. I am still painfully shy and I still find it difficult to talk to people. Maybe years of fatness have ingrained shyness into my psyche or maybe I am just shy because I am. The gastric band has given me a great opportunity to overcome some of my demons. An opportunity that I sometimes abuse and take for granted – time has a wonderful way of letting one forget their blessings. What it hasn’t done is offer me a cure for all of my other failings. Perhaps writing this will be the first step on another journey of self-discovery and perhaps it will just be another piece of prose that adds to my posthumous biography that will never be written. I decided to write this because I do feel it is of relevance to people considering having the surgery as it has shown me that I was perhaps a little over-eager to consider it the answer to my problems instead of a pretty good guide to help me find my own answers – a guide that is sometimes ignored. So, after that marathon outpouring of in most angst and in summation: I’m suffering - yes I am, but I am admitting I need help, so my suffering on that side of things is perhaps no longer in silence and it may well help my future efforts. I’m rubbish - yes again. But, I know I have a way to crawl out of the trash can. It’s just up to me to do it. I’m a failure - not entirely, because it’s not yet over. Maybe I can turn things around. I can’t do it - Yes I can. Originally posted at: www.lapbandblog.org.uk

Thanks for the comments people - still here - just not posting blogs until something of interest happens. Time for me to be reading about you guys!

Hello gorgeous people Does anyone here Twitter? I'm getting a little bored following mass marketers and pedlars of absolutely nothing relevant by reurn follow and would welcome actually reading up on like-minded people for a change. If so, please follow me or post your Twitter username here so I can add to my profile. Benedict Francis (benfrancis) on Twitter (@benfrancis) Thank you! Ben

Go for it: Lap Band | Gastric Band Weight Loss Blog Taking a look at your this evening after some hefty karaoke! "She's Like the Wind" is obviously on the cards....

It seems to be a huge balancing trick to me. I was there too. Sounds like you need a tiny, tiny bit more restriction and to re-educate the chewing system. Half a year down the line - I sometime still forget to chew properly. Just when you find your sweet spot - you'll lose enough weight in a few weeks to start all over. Great fun!

I recently received some distressing news that has meant that I will be bringing this blog to a close for the foreseeable future. The news from my doctor was sudden and very sharp. Having been basking in the speedy weight loss glory that the Lap Band enabled me to have has been nothing short of amazing for me. But it was over the last couple of months that I noticed a change in my eating habits and frame reduction. I have been eating less, feeling unwell and not losing any weight at all. This prompted a visit to the doctor. A visit that left me cold. After the array of basic tests that were performed on me – a diagnosis was delivered in perhaps the worst bedside manner that any man could muster. “Well Mr Francis”, the doctor sternly opened with. “I don’t think we need any blood tests, it’s pretty obvious what the problem is”. The words left me curious and somewhat scared. “You need to pay close attention to me here, as I am going to say something that may well initially distress you”. I braced myself for the worst possible scenario. “You are going to…” Time stopped – I knew exactly what he was going to say…and he confirmed my worst fears in just a few words… “You are going to…have to start exercising”. Oh god no. I left the surgery having just been diagnosed with terminal laziness. I reached out for sympathy when I got home – but there was none to be had. I was in this on my own. After the initial shock subsided, I realised that perhaps I had been far too melodramatic for anyone to pay attention to; melodrama that may well have come across in the above prose, who knows? I moved through the stages of grief pretty quickly. Denial came and went in a brief flash – “What does that quack know? I have a gastric band godammit!” No sooner had denial crossed my mind, that the thought of complaining to the Medical Council about his delivery of such a ridiculous prognosis entered my mind. I would demand that he was struck off immediately! The angry stage left just as speedily as it came and was replaced with bargaining. I tried to think of ways I could bribe him to give me magical beans that would speed up my metabolism in a less unhealthy way than amphetamines. I realised there were no such beans. And so, by the time I arrived home, bargaining was replaced by depression. The very thought of changing my sedentary life style to something less stagnant left me in need of a pantry populated with Prozac. Self-pity is a funny thing. It’s heroically tedious. This led to the fifth and final stage, acceptance. I got very bored of being in a black mood over something as trivial as raising my heart rate above sluggish. I turned myself around very quickly with some financial therapy and a new excercise bike. Only forty kilometers and a rather large bucket of sweat later – I am convinced that I may well start feeling excited about this whole thing again. I am very easily bored – and may well find myself in everlasting ennui with my new excercise machine – but, if I do, I am going to do my utmost to replace it with something that will keep this new life that the Lap Band has offered me. I entitled this article Goodbye because I feel I have reached the end of scribing anything useful to the weight-loss community and I would only be serving to fill empty space with nonsensical rambles. As per this one. I may well return for an update if and when I feel there is something of relevance to say in relation to this blog – but until then, I sign off. I do hope you have enjoyed these stories or found them interesting, useful or reminiscent of your own experiences. If not, then I pity the fact that you have read this far! Feel free to make cyber-friends with me on Facebook, Twitter or see my website. Goodbye fair fellow and wannabe fellow banders, I wish you success and pleasant trails on your life ahead! Ben x Originally posted at www.lapbandforum.org.uk

I recently received some distressing news that has meant that I will be bringing this blog to a close for the foreseeable future. The news from my doctor was sudden and very sharp. Having been basking in the speedy weight loss glory that the Lap Band enabled me to have has been nothing short of amazing for me. But it was over the last couple of months that I noticed a change in my eating habits and frame reduction. I have been eating less, feeling unwell and not losing any weight at all. This prompted a visit to the doctor. A visit that left me cold. After the array of basic tests that were performed on me – a diagnosis was delivered in perhaps the worst bedside manner that any man could muster. “Well Mr Francis”, the doctor sternly opened with. “I don’t think we need any blood tests, it’s pretty obvious what the problem is”. The words left me curious and somewhat scared. “You need to pay close attention to me here, as I am going to say something that may well initially distress you”. I braced myself for the worst possible scenario. “You are going to…” Time stopped – I knew exactly what he was going to say…and he confirmed my worst fears in just a few words… “You are going to…have to start exercising”. Oh god no. I left the surgery having just been diagnosed with terminal laziness. I reached out for sympathy when I got home – but there was none to be had. I was in this on my own. After the initial shock subsided, I realised that perhaps I had been far too melodramatic for anyone to pay attention to; melodrama that may well have come across in the above prose, who knows? I moved through the stages of grief pretty quickly. Denial came and went in a brief flash – “What does that quack know? I have a gastric band godammit!” No sooner had denial crossed my mind, that the thought of complaining to the Medical Council about his delivery of such a ridiculous prognosis entered my mind. I would demand that he was struck off immediately! The angry stage left just as speedily as it came and was replaced with bargaining. I tried to think of ways I could bribe him to give me magical beans that would speed up my metabolism in a less unhealthy way than amphetamines. I realised there were no such beans. And so, by the time I arrived home, bargaining was replaced by depression. The very thought of changing my sedentary life style to something less stagnant left me in need of a pantry populated with Prozac. Self-pity is a funny thing. It’s heroically tedious. This led to the fifth and final stage, acceptance. I got very bored of being in a black mood over something as trivial as raising my heart rate above sluggish. I turned myself around very quickly with some financial therapy and a new excercise bike. Only forty kilometers and a rather large bucket of sweat later – I am convinced that I may well start feeling excited about this whole thing again. I am very easily bored – and may well find myself in everlasting ennui with my new excercise machine – but, if I do, I am going to do my utmost to replace it with something that will keep this new life that the Lap Band has offered me. I entitled this article Goodbye because I feel I have reached the end of scribing anything useful to the weight-loss community and I would only be serving to fill empty space with nonsensical rambles. As per this one. I may well return for an update if and when I feel there is something of relevance to say in relation to this blog – but until then, I sign off. I do hope you have enjoyed these stories or found them interesting, useful or reminiscent of your own experiences. If not, then I pity the fact that you have read this far! Feel free to make cyber-friends with me on Facebook, Twitter or see my website. Goodbye fair fellow and wannabe fellow banders, I wish you success and pleasant trails on your life ahead! Ben x Originally posted at www.lapbandforum.org.uk

Thanks for the feedback ladies. BG - Do you really think there will be negativity? If so - best off brushing away those people who frown on you surely? Shed the pounds as well as the bigots! We're all in this together - let's Band together and fight the prejudice! Anyhow - most people on this board who are hiding teh fact from their friends have their pictures on the profiles - so I guess there is an awful lot of reliance on the fact that the people who would beat us up about it are too stupid to use the Internet...in which case they are too stupid to have any valuable opinions! Look at me - all gearing up for my entry into the trenches of La Resistance! Allons-y mes amis! Q09 - hope you are feeling less blue today - this time next year you will be...um...what's a happy colour...pink? Green? Puce? Probably teracotta!

Today’s exciting instalment does not revolve around me. In fact, it’s not exciting either. And indeed, I wrote it yesterday. So it’s not actually today’s…let’s move on. Of late, I have had several people contact me from the gastric band communes across the globe commenting about our shared experiences. One good thing about this procedure is that it is encourages people to seek out fellow bandibulars to discuss what we are going through or are likely to go through and in doing so, encourages virtual friendships – which is a decent first step to real-life friendships I suppose. This urge to find like minded bandicles seems to have its roots firmly entrenched in the shame that a lot of people still seem to have with the operation. The fact that I know there are an awful lot of people out there even in my own home town that have had it done but are not willing to discuss it. This article will hopefully act as commentary rather than a soap box and is written from the perspective of someone who has gone through this in public view – with friends, family and even the unfortunates who really have no interest whatsoever, but find themselves under the hypnotic cast of my conversation on the subject (and by that I mean my incessant drunken ramblings that many people have been subject to). When I set about researching the surgery – I too was part of the secret sect – those that have taken an oath of silence concerning their desires to seek out help on the road to fatlightenment. I used to read about people’s experiences on the Internet discussion boards and delete all history and temporary browsing files as if I had been partaking in pornographic fun times. What if somebody found out that I was looking at Lap Band surgery – oh the shame! It was only when I had decided to definitely go ahead and undergo the procedure that I looked at the experiences of the like of Fern Britten and see the mistakes made previously by others before me. For the non-UK contingent out there – Fern Britten is a TV personality over here that was banded and decided it was a good idea (either by her own volition or by her press team’s insistence) to not admit to having it done. In fact, she even went so far as to release an exercise video pushing the fact that she lost all her weight on her own. This led to a big public outcry when they found out she had had surgery. I believe it also did a lot of damage to the perception of gastric bands in the UK for a while after also. It became a bit of a shameful stigma and taboo. Now, I understand the urge to keep it quiet. It struck me in the first phases of my Passage to Thindia that I had failed on my quest by resorting to medical help. I had not been strong enough to do it on my own and my personality was so weak that I just didn’t have the ability to succeed in losing my excess weight. I suppose there is a small part of me that still feels that. But, it is a very small part indeed. I would have loved to have had the motivation, the will power and the control without going through the operation. Anyone would. But, the simple fact of the matter is – I didn’t. I read an interview with Richard Branson once, where he proclaimed that a turning point in his life was when he started to admit that he had weaknesses. When he realised he was unable to do things that others could. In doing so, he brought on board people with skills that he lacked to fill the gaps. And this act of self-awareness allowed him to succeed. Along with the discovery of Mike Oldfield. This is the way I look at the band. I have hired a thick-necked doorman that stands at the entrance to the nightclub that is my stomach and send the trouble makers on their way. Allowing me to get on and run the bar. Pouring drinks – doing what I do well. I have found that my openness about the surgery has caused an awful lot of interest from almost everyone I talk to. Morbid curiosity about the practicalities mainly – but nonetheless, a very healthy interest. Most have also congratulated me on taking the steps to do something about my weight. It may well not be their cup of tea, but I am lucky to surround myself with nice people who seem to believe that I did the right thing. People who would no doubt by upset if I passed away too soon because of my stegosaurus eating habits of a bygone era. My over-sensitive and paranoid nature has made me obviously look at some people and silently accuse them of judging me as a failure – but I imagine that would have been there had I lost the weight naturally and unaided. That’s just one of my personality traits and failings. When people write to me and ask me to not announce on their Facebook pages or the like that they have had surgery upsets me for a couple of reasons. Firstly – of course I wouldn’t do that. That’s not the way it works with me. I will proudly announce my own inner-most thoughts and dark secrets – but leave the revealing of yours, to you. The other reason I am dismayed (over-exaggeration is a lovely thing) is that I believe you are painting yourself into a corner. The surgery can cause such a dramatic change that the deep dark secret will eventually surface. Through suspicion or evidence – people will start to whisper and you will probably find yourself in an awkward position of having to come out of the banded closet and admit your procedure under scrutiny and shame. Fuelling the undeserved frowns that the band already seems to engender. I guarantee that I know of at least two local ladies who have had surgery but won’t admit it – making them look bad. My recommendation to anyone undertaking this procedure is be open and honest with everyone. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Where you fall in one area, you rise in another. So what if you weren’t built the same way as the lucky slender – your life experience in being a rotund has no doubt given you the knocks and pain that has given you something that they will never have. And when you eventually become the healthy figure you yearn for – you will have the looks as well as the “great personality” that us tubbies have always been accused of having…something that natural beauties always seem to lack in abundance. Originally posted at: Lap Band Blog

Today’s exciting instalment does not revolve around me. In fact, it’s not exciting either. And indeed, I wrote it yesterday. So it’s not actually today’s…let’s move on. Of late, I have had several people contact me from the gastric band communes across the globe commenting about our shared experiences. One good thing about this procedure is that it is encourages people to seek out fellow bandibulars to discuss what we are going through or are likely to go through and in doing so, encourages virtual friendships – which is a decent first step to real-life friendships I suppose. This urge to find like minded bandicles seems to have its roots firmly entrenched in the shame that a lot of people still seem to have with the operation. The fact that I know there are an awful lot of people out there even in my own home town that have had it done but are not willing to discuss it. This article will hopefully act as commentary rather than a soap box and is written from the perspective of someone who has gone through this in public view – with friends, family and even the unfortunates who really have no interest whatsoever, but find themselves under the hypnotic cast of my conversation on the subject (and by that I mean my incessant drunken ramblings that many people have been subject to). When I set about researching the surgery – I too was part of the secret sect – those that have taken an oath of silence concerning their desires to seek out help on the road to fatlightenment. I used to read about people’s experiences on the Internet discussion boards and delete all history and temporary browsing files as if I had been partaking in pornographic fun times. What if somebody found out that I was looking at Lap Band surgery – oh the shame! It was only when I had decided to definitely go ahead and undergo the procedure that I looked at the experiences of the like of Fern Britten and see the mistakes made previously by others before me. For the non-UK contingent out there – Fern Britten is a TV personality over here that was banded and decided it was a good idea (either by her own volition or by her press team’s insistence) to not admit to having it done. In fact, she even went so far as to release an exercise video pushing the fact that she lost all her weight on her own. This led to a big public outcry when they found out she had had surgery. I believe it also did a lot of damage to the perception of gastric bands in the UK for a while after also. It became a bit of a shameful stigma and taboo. Now, I understand the urge to keep it quiet. It struck me in the first phases of my Passage to Thindia that I had failed on my quest by resorting to medical help. I had not been strong enough to do it on my own and my personality was so weak that I just didn’t have the ability to succeed in losing my excess weight. I suppose there is a small part of me that still feels that. But, it is a very small part indeed. I would have loved to have had the motivation, the will power and the control without going through the operation. Anyone would. But, the simple fact of the matter is – I didn’t. I read an interview with Richard Branson once, where he proclaimed that a turning point in his life was when he started to admit that he had weaknesses. When he realised he was unable to do things that others could. In doing so, he brought on board people with skills that he lacked to fill the gaps. And this act of self-awareness allowed him to succeed. Along with the discovery of Mike Oldfield. This is the way I look at the band. I have hired a thick-necked doorman that stands at the entrance to the nightclub that is my stomach and send the trouble makers on their way. Allowing me to get on and run the bar. Pouring drinks – doing what I do well. I have found that my openness about the surgery has caused an awful lot of interest from almost everyone I talk to. Morbid curiosity about the practicalities mainly – but nonetheless, a very healthy interest. Most have also congratulated me on taking the steps to do something about my weight. It may well not be their cup of tea, but I am lucky to surround myself with nice people who seem to believe that I did the right thing. People who would no doubt by upset if I passed away too soon because of my stegosaurus eating habits of a bygone era. My over-sensitive and paranoid nature has made me obviously look at some people and silently accuse them of judging me as a failure – but I imagine that would have been there had I lost the weight naturally and unaided. That’s just one of my personality traits and failings. When people write to me and ask me to not announce on their Facebook pages or the like that they have had surgery upsets me for a couple of reasons. Firstly – of course I wouldn’t do that. That’s not the way it works with me. I will proudly announce my own inner-most thoughts and dark secrets – but leave the revealing of yours, to you. The other reason I am dismayed (over-exaggeration is a lovely thing) is that I believe you are painting yourself into a corner. The surgery can cause such a dramatic change that the deep dark secret will eventually surface. Through suspicion or evidence – people will start to whisper and you will probably find yourself in an awkward position of having to come out of the banded closet and admit your procedure under scrutiny and shame. Fuelling the undeserved frowns that the band already seems to engender. I guarantee that I know of at least two local ladies who have had surgery but won’t admit it – making them look bad. My recommendation to anyone undertaking this procedure is be open and honest with everyone. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Where you fall in one area, you rise in another. So what if you weren’t built the same way as the lucky slender – your life experience in being a rotund has no doubt given you the knocks and pain that has given you something that they will never have. And when you eventually become the healthy figure you yearn for – you will have the looks as well as the “great personality” that us tubbies have always been accused of having…something that natural beauties always seem to lack in abundance. Originally posted at: Lap Band Blog

As ever ladies, thanks for the comments! questions09 - here's raising a glass to your surgery in the Autumn (you guys say The Fall right?) and good to see your doing so well BG - don't worry about small gain you had - weigh your self every month - so much more rewarding not watching the short term hiccups!

Thanks Xavier - having played a few hefty Shakespearean roles - I wouldn't quite describe that charatcer as a "leading man" though...more of a leading lady!

Well, didn’t I get a shock yesterday! My first venture into on-screen acting arrived in a neatly packaged DVD. Regular readers may well remember that I discussed the filming of this back in a post in February, “Killing With Kindness“. Seeing myself on screen five stone heavier was a bit of an eye-opener. It’s not as if I was blind when I was that heavy – but when you are actually behind all that weight, there is a certain amount of self-preservation that must go on in one’s mind when you look at yourself in the mirror. Something must trigger to make the brain think it’s really not all that bad which protects you from giving in and throwing yourself out of the window and causing much death and destruction below. But looking at it from this side of the chubby fence…it was that bad indeed. Here is a comparison picture… Now, I realise that there are heavier people than I was back then and indeed, lighter people than I am now – but by the Holy Staff of St Cheeseburger – why couldn’t I see what I was doing to myself?! I can only imagine that I didn’t want to see it. Or was it that the road to change was so bloody hard? Was it blindness by fear? Was it because I could put a brave face on it and convince myself that it really didn’t matter…and let’s face it – apart from the verbal digs and health risks – it didn’t. I was happy in a relationship, with three wonderful children and always looking at the bright side of life – I was always happy and laughing. And that is probably why it didn’t matter. Life was good. I just didn’t realise how much better it could be. I’m out of the relationship now and, thankfully, on great terms with my ex(es) and seeing my children whenever I want. I have a much better prognosis for living past 50 (touch wood) and I feel bloody great. It is very worrying to see pictures and videos of me pre-band and has made me thankful once again for the advances in medicine that have allowed me to get to where I am today (and for the marvels of interest-free credit from the private hospital!). Having just returned from a trip to my most favourite place in the world, Paris, I need to get myself back in the mindset of eating properly again. I took five days off from watching what I eat and spent far too many times in the cafe toilets throwing up because I was eating incredibly delicious and fattening food much too quickly for my band restriction. On top of that, the toilets were more often than not the disgusting holes in the floor that Europeans seem far too happy with for civilised people. Bad experiences all round! So, here I am after having watched my former fat self in a short film and reinvigorated on to my weight loss programme once again. Hovering around 70lbs down and ten inches off my waist, I am very much looking forward to losing the rest of the “muffin top” that sits around my belt over the next few months and will do so with a renewed avoid-the-horrible-French-holes-in-the-floor vigour! For those that are interested in seeing me portray a very camp speed dating host in the film…please feel free to visit my new channel on YouTube at YouTube - BenedictFrancis's Channel where you can see a couple of videos of me at my heaviest and most mincing! Here’s to hindsight…what a wonderful concept! Originally posted at: Lap Band Blog

Well, didn’t I get a shock yesterday! My first venture into on-screen acting arrived in a neatly packaged DVD. Regular readers may well remember that I discussed the filming of this back in a post in February, “Killing With Kindness“. Seeing myself on screen five stone heavier was a bit of an eye-opener. It’s not as if I was blind when I was that heavy – but when you are actually behind all that weight, there is a certain amount of self-preservation that must go on in one’s mind when you look at yourself in the mirror. Something must trigger to make the brain think it’s really not all that bad which protects you from giving in and throwing yourself out of the window and causing much death and destruction below. But looking at it from this side of the chubby fence…it was that bad indeed. Here is a comparison picture… Now, I realise that there are heavier people than I was back then and indeed, lighter people than I am now – but by the Holy Staff of St Cheeseburger – why couldn’t I see what I was doing to myself?! I can only imagine that I didn’t want to see it. Or was it that the road to change was so bloody hard? Was it blindness by fear? Was it because I could put a brave face on it and convince myself that it really didn’t matter…and let’s face it – apart from the verbal digs and health risks – it didn’t. I was happy in a relationship, with three wonderful children and always looking at the bright side of life – I was always happy and laughing. And that is probably why it didn’t matter. Life was good. I just didn’t realise how much better it could be. I’m out of the relationship now and, thankfully, on great terms with my ex(es) and seeing my children whenever I want. I have a much better prognosis for living past 50 (touch wood) and I feel bloody great. It is very worrying to see pictures and videos of me pre-band and has made me thankful once again for the advances in medicine that have allowed me to get to where I am today (and for the marvels of interest-free credit from the private hospital!). Having just returned from a trip to my most favourite place in the world, Paris, I need to get myself back in the mindset of eating properly again. I took five days off from watching what I eat and spent far too many times in the cafe toilets throwing up because I was eating incredibly delicious and fattening food much too quickly for my band restriction. On top of that, the toilets were more often than not the disgusting holes in the floor that Europeans seem far too happy with for civilised people. Bad experiences all round! So, here I am after having watched my former fat self in a short film and reinvigorated on to my weight loss programme once again. Hovering around 70lbs down and ten inches off my waist, I am very much looking forward to losing the rest of the “muffin top” that sits around my belt over the next few months and will do so with a renewed avoid-the-horrible-French-holes-in-the-floor vigour! For those that are interested in seeing me portray a very camp speed dating host in the film…please feel free to visit my new channel on YouTube at YouTube - BenedictFrancis's Channel where you can see a couple of videos of me at my heaviest and most mincing! Here’s to hindsight…what a wonderful concept! Originally posted at: Lap Band Blog

I figured the time was nigh to write a overview and summary on my thoughts so far on this whole gastric band thing. In doing so, I will try to avoid my usual rapier wit and innuendo to get my message across! I was a bit concerned to have feedback on my last blog entry suggesting that my words had managed to put her in a position of thinking again about going through the operation. I was concerned because it seems that in my attempt to be as open and honest about the things I have experienced along the way, I seem to have not got my real message across. I will get the very point of this article out the way at the start so that as many people read this as possible: Deciding to opt for the gastric band is simply ONE OF THE BEST THINGS I HAVE EVER DONE. Now, you can read on to find out why, or carry on browsing the rest of the Internet; all I ask is that you believe the above bold, italicised and capitalised words. I have spent much of my writing hours talking about the experiences of having this implement fitted inside my not-so-cavernous-anymore body. I have dwelled upon the things that I have experienced that were new to me and sometimes hovered around the more negative experiences such as the initial pain and regurgitation - the things we all would like to do without in a perfect world. What it seems people are forgetting are the negatives and experiences I wrote about at the start and the experiences many of you have gone through or are living through right now; the days before the operation. The surgery carries some risks and is not the most utopian solution one could wish for - but it has proved to be the best option for me. I would take the discomfort and learning procedure of having to live with the band any time if it meant that I never have to be fat again. I don't care if people who don't understand about this operation call me a failure. I would rather be a healthy "failure" in their eyes than a miserable, morbidly obese, diabetic, fat "failure" with a decreased expected life span. Simple and easy. The discomfort I felt along the way was nothing compared to the discomfort of fat. Nothing at all. I wrote about it all because it was new and because I had never felt it before. This was the point of my blog - to discuss my thoughts with anyone who wanted to read about what was going on in my mind. Therapy by blogging. I have been in the fortunate position of having my band fitted and tightened almost perfectly and have lost weight steadily and, some would say, too speedily. But for me, it has shown me the benefits of being thinner more so than if I had lost it gradually over two years - I remember being 70lbs heavier just three months ago. I remember it very clearly and vividly. Each month I have been dropping trouser sizes. I have had wonderful comments from people week in and week out. I have had to throw away clothes that are far too big and have been able to replace them in normal shops instead of humiliating shops purpose built for fat people. I have gone through the embarrassing "morbidly obese" category, whizzed on through "obese" and am currently travelling through "overweight" on my way to the final destination of "normal". I have been approached by women - something that simply never happened before. I have cut my grocery shopping bills down from incomprehensible levels to just a few pounds a week. I have been more creative and productive with my new state of mind and boosted confidence. I have been feeling less ill and achey. Mainly though, above all else, I am happy. I reiterate and proclaim once again: I AM HAPPY! Having my eldest child tell me she enjoys cuddling me now because her arms meet and she can hold all of me in one go was a huge reaffirmation that this was the best decision. If the cost of all that is relearning eating habits and some discomfort once in a while when I get it wrong - it's not much of a price to pay at all. In fact it's no price. It's a steal. Looking back over the course of the last few months and the previous 15 years I know that I simply would not be on my way to healthy if it wasn't for the band. My will power simply wasn't strong enough without it. My brain chemicals simply wouldn't send out the right signals to help me out like the majority of healthy people's do. Maybe in a few years there will be a more acceptable way for the public to lose weight. A magic pill that actually works (rather than claims to work but really just makes you mess yourself or commit suicide). A free personal trainer given out with every pack of Special K (which would personally have made me mess myself or commit suicide). But, this band works for me and I stand up and recommend it to everyone who has failed in their battle to lose weight. I know there are people out there that have not had such a plain sail with this operation but I will leave it up to you to read about their progress and experiences. I do believe from my previous research though, that the people who don't get along with this procedure are in the unfortunate minority. I am proud to admit to anyone and everyone that I have had my Lap Band and am happy for people to think what they like about my reasons behind doing it. I also recommend to those that are hiding the operation from friends and family (you know who you are!) that they come out of the gastric closet - there is nothing to be ashamed of. Help others - stand up, make your voice heard and be proud! As The Style Council put it so perfectly: Shout to the Top! Originally posted at: Lap Band Blog

I figured the time was nigh to write a overview and summary on my thoughts so far on this whole gastric band thing. In doing so, I will try to avoid my usual rapier wit and innuendo to get my message across! I was a bit concerned to have feedback on my last blog entry suggesting that my words had managed to put her in a position of thinking again about going through the operation. I was concerned because it seems that in my attempt to be as open and honest about the things I have experienced along the way, I seem to have not got my real message across. I will get the very point of this article out the way at the start so that as many people read this as possible: Deciding to opt for the gastric band is simply ONE OF THE BEST THINGS I HAVE EVER DONE. Now, you can read on to find out why, or carry on browsing the rest of the Internet; all I ask is that you believe the above bold, italicised and capitalised words. I have spent much of my writing hours talking about the experiences of having this implement fitted inside my not-so-cavernous-anymore body. I have dwelled upon the things that I have experienced that were new to me and sometimes hovered around the more negative experiences such as the initial pain and regurgitation - the things we all would like to do without in a perfect world. What it seems people are forgetting are the negatives and experiences I wrote about at the start and the experiences many of you have gone through or are living through right now; the days before the operation. The surgery carries some risks and is not the most utopian solution one could wish for - but it has proved to be the best option for me. I would take the discomfort and learning procedure of having to live with the band any time if it meant that I never have to be fat again. I don't care if people who don't understand about this operation call me a failure. I would rather be a healthy "failure" in their eyes than a miserable, morbidly obese, diabetic, fat "failure" with a decreased expected life span. Simple and easy. The discomfort I felt along the way was nothing compared to the discomfort of fat. Nothing at all. I wrote about it all because it was new and because I had never felt it before. This was the point of my blog - to discuss my thoughts with anyone who wanted to read about what was going on in my mind. Therapy by blogging. I have been in the fortunate position of having my band fitted and tightened almost perfectly and have lost weight steadily and, some would say, too speedily. But for me, it has shown me the benefits of being thinner more so than if I had lost it gradually over two years - I remember being 70lbs heavier just three months ago. I remember it very clearly and vividly. Each month I have been dropping trouser sizes. I have had wonderful comments from people week in and week out. I have had to throw away clothes that are far too big and have been able to replace them in normal shops instead of humiliating shops purpose built for fat people. I have gone through the embarrassing "morbidly obese" category, whizzed on through "obese" and am currently travelling through "overweight" on my way to the final destination of "normal". I have been approached by women - something that simply never happened before. I have cut my grocery shopping bills down from incomprehensible levels to just a few pounds a week. I have been more creative and productive with my new state of mind and boosted confidence. I have been feeling less ill and achey. Mainly though, above all else, I am happy. I reiterate and proclaim once again: I AM HAPPY! Having my eldest child tell me she enjoys cuddling me now because her arms meet and she can hold all of me in one go was a huge reaffirmation that this was the best decision. If the cost of all that is relearning eating habits and some discomfort once in a while when I get it wrong - it's not much of a price to pay at all. In fact it's no price. It's a steal. Looking back over the course of the last few months and the previous 15 years I know that I simply would not be on my way to healthy if it wasn't for the band. My will power simply wasn't strong enough without it. My brain chemicals simply wouldn't send out the right signals to help me out like the majority of healthy people's do. Maybe in a few years there will be a more acceptable way for the public to lose weight. A magic pill that actually works (rather than claims to work but really just makes you mess yourself or commit suicide). A free personal trainer given out with every pack of Special K (which would personally have made me mess myself or commit suicide). But, this band works for me and I stand up and recommend it to everyone who has failed in their battle to lose weight. I know there are people out there that have not had such a plain sail with this operation but I will leave it up to you to read about their progress and experiences. I do believe from my previous research though, that the people who don't get along with this procedure are in the unfortunate minority. I am proud to admit to anyone and everyone that I have had my Lap Band and am happy for people to think what they like about my reasons behind doing it. I also recommend to those that are hiding the operation from friends and family (you know who you are!) that they come out of the gastric closet - there is nothing to be ashamed of. Help others - stand up, make your voice heard and be proud! As The Style Council put it so perfectly: Shout to the Top! Originally posted at: Lap Band Blog

Oh dear! I'm sorry you got the impression that any of my experience has been bad! It has been FAR from that. In fact, I would go so far as to say that, with the exception of having my children, opting to have the lap band has been the best thing I have ever done. Sure, I will go on about the bad sides about the operation, but if you read through the whole blog (put aside a couple of weeks!) you should pick up a full view - I am over the moon with the phsychological as well as physical effects it has had. On balance, I would recommend this to anyone and everyone...that said, I don't speak for everyone who has had this operation.

For those few and far between people who actually read this blog, you may have noticed I am slowing down on my initial spurt and outpouring of psychological literary sticking plasters. This is not because I am getting bored with the process of scribing my thoughts down or that I am filling my time with more fulfilling activities. It is simply because I seem to be getting used to this whole new world of eating to live and not living to eat. The “new experiences” are now relatively few and far between. I don’t want to re-cover old ground and I don’t intend to write much about that which bears no relevance on my new lap band lifestyle. That said, I love the new album by The Leisure Society! Having recently had another band fill, I found that the re-education process of controlling intake is something that is, paradoxically, a constant variable. However (even in the knowledge that this is something I will take some time to get used to in its entirety with the varying changes) finding out about ten days ago that I was able to eat as much as most people at the table could, did fill me with fear and dread. Of course, my assumptions were that of a paranoid and over-sensitive fool: Had my band fallen off? Had my stomach stretched and negated the effects of the surgery? Had my internal organs rewired themselves because they missed KFC that much? 1.5ml of saline reminded me that I was indeed being an idiot. I was made aware by my surgeon that fat people don’t just hold fat on their bellies, chins and thighs. Organs that sit delicately inside you are also subject to becoming individually overweight. The suggestion was that as I had lost so much weight so quickly, the area that the band was wrapped around on my stomach had lost a layer of fat also - hence increasing the dilation and reducing the band’s effectiveness. This theory seems to also be confirmed by the display of plastinisation by that weird fedora-donned German doctor. His demonstration of the differences between the internal organs of an ex-healthy person and a not-so-healthy-mainly-because-they-are-dead fat chap show huge variations in size and lardy colours of their internal organs. I never knew I had fat behind the fat. This would also explain why people were surprised whenever I told them how much I weighed - a lot of my butter was out of sight. It was strangely comforting to be told that I was losing weight from my internal organs (fingers crossed it doesn’t have any such effect on external ones!). It is plain to see the outer weight loss, but knowing your heart is probably operating under less suffocating conditions is somehow more of an achievement to me than another notch down on my trouser belt. Being saline-squeezed once more has led to a number of slightly embarrassing and uncomfortable blockages as I once again get used to the restriction and what I can and can’t eat. How many chews on a morsel of food I make is once again on my mind - as an extra five mastications can make the difference between normal polite conversation over a meal and an hour of painful regurgitation of very little food and even less polite conversation. It’s a learning process that I imagine I will go through several times across my way to normal as my internal and external flab dissipate and my visible and invisible belts both need adjustment from time to time. Originally posted at: Lap Band Blog

For those few and far between people who actually read this blog, you may have noticed I am slowing down on my initial spurt and outpouring of psychological literary sticking plasters. This is not because I am getting bored with the process of scribing my thoughts down or that I am filling my time with more fulfilling activities. It is simply because I seem to be getting used to this whole new world of eating to live and not living to eat. The “new experiences” are now relatively few and far between. I don’t want to re-cover old ground and I don’t intend to write much about that which bears no relevance on my new lap band lifestyle. That said, I love the new album by The Leisure Society! Having recently had another band fill, I found that the re-education process of controlling intake is something that is, paradoxically, a constant variable. However (even in the knowledge that this is something I will take some time to get used to in its entirety with the varying changes) finding out about ten days ago that I was able to eat as much as most people at the table could, did fill me with fear and dread. Of course, my assumptions were that of a paranoid and over-sensitive fool: Had my band fallen off? Had my stomach stretched and negated the effects of the surgery? Had my internal organs rewired themselves because they missed KFC that much? 1.5ml of saline reminded me that I was indeed being an idiot. I was made aware by my surgeon that fat people don’t just hold fat on their bellies, chins and thighs. Organs that sit delicately inside you are also subject to becoming individually overweight. The suggestion was that as I had lost so much weight so quickly, the area that the band was wrapped around on my stomach had lost a layer of fat also - hence increasing the dilation and reducing the band’s effectiveness. This theory seems to also be confirmed by the display of plastinisation by that weird fedora-donned German doctor. His demonstration of the differences between the internal organs of an ex-healthy person and a not-so-healthy-mainly-because-they-are-dead fat chap show huge variations in size and lardy colours of their internal organs. I never knew I had fat behind the fat. This would also explain why people were surprised whenever I told them how much I weighed - a lot of my butter was out of sight. It was strangely comforting to be told that I was losing weight from my internal organs (fingers crossed it doesn’t have any such effect on external ones!). It is plain to see the outer weight loss, but knowing your heart is probably operating under less suffocating conditions is somehow more of an achievement to me than another notch down on my trouser belt. Being saline-squeezed once more has led to a number of slightly embarrassing and uncomfortable blockages as I once again get used to the restriction and what I can and can’t eat. How many chews on a morsel of food I make is once again on my mind - as an extra five mastications can make the difference between normal polite conversation over a meal and an hour of painful regurgitation of very little food and even less polite conversation. It’s a learning process that I imagine I will go through several times across my way to normal as my internal and external flab dissipate and my visible and invisible belts both need adjustment from time to time. Originally posted at: Lap Band Blog

Thanks for the comments Sandy & Angel - very much appreciated by the over-dramatic Brit!

4luci - I envy your abiliy to take pain so well - I had a slightly uncomfortable hang-nail incident last week. I nearly passed out. Rollercoasters = unnecessary tears = avoid at all costs for fear of embarrassing myself.

Marmite Crumpet - I'm not entirely sure about the whole world enjoying the splendour - perhaps just the few select! However - food for thought on a rainy day! ;o)