A little over a week ago I was speaking to my father on the phone. He was sharing with me the details of his brother who was living in the hospital again due to his health issues. My surgery was scheduled, but I felt guilt because I didn't think I had a valid enough reason for it.

Then my father said something I will never forget. He described my uncle as a sad blob who didn't have a tooth in his head. A burden on his family because he couldn't care for himself. When I realized that being fat not only turned my uncle helpless but categorized as a burden, I immediately knew I was doing the right thing. I don't want to be a stereotype/burden/blob/etc to my family.

Last night my uncle died. It feels odd. He was only 65 and never really lived. He was the final straw for me proceeding with this surgery and now that he's gone, I feel like his last moment unknowingly saved my life.

I just want to say, to those fearful or unsure if this is right, how could it be wrong if it could be the saving grace in your life?

HW: 328 (02/21/17)

SW: 271 (05/24/17)

CW:

I'm very sorry for the loss of your uncle. I had similar thoughts as you - I didn't want to die at 65 (or earlier!) a burden to my family because of my weight. It was time to do something drastic...

I'm sorry for your loss. [Hugs]

I'm sorry for your loss. I had a similar motivation - I honestly was thinking specifically about what would happen if I was in an accident or died. Could the paramedics lift me onto a stretcher and/or into an ambulance? would I fit in a standard coffin? would my family/friends/caregivers look at me as a burden? It was very morbid to consider but that is what ultimately pushed me over the edge.