Following is a short story inspired of Jack and offering an analogy of the path of the lap-band. It was sort of an emotional piece for me to write and gave me emotional and mental comfort and resolve for the band and what was happening to me in life and with this new band. It is nothing that great-speaking in a literary sense, but perhaps might offer some ideas to others somewhere along the journery into the lap-band and recognition of what drove there food compulsions and how to control them.

Most of all it offers hope of controlling the dragon that rages inside of us.

Capture Of The Dragon

In a world far from the one that we see with eyes and hear with ears lived a dragon. A gigantic, ferocious, fire breathing dragon. It was master of its realm, with no person ever challenging this dragon successfully. The challenger, often clad with the armor of will power and the sword of determination would return singed to a crisp having their sword melted down and armor ripped to shreds.

This dragon was a strange one, it was irrational, often requiring offerings of huge amounts of food and drink, at all times of the day and night. It would rally the community with constant orders of more this, more that, stuff it in, more….more….more… Often the villagers would fall down in exhaustion from the feeding frenzy the dragon would initiate. Then the dragon would finally sit back, a smile on its face and its body stuffed and full, knowing that it is not possible to stuff one tiny morsel in. The villagers dejected and repulsed by this dragon were nonetheless forced to continue on their existence in servitude to this dragon.

Oh, there would be revolts and a strong hero would occasionally enter the kingdom, offering the villagers hope and promises of liberation, only to have them defeated and depressed when the hero evaporated or the dragon once again proved itself too strong for such mortal battles. This was the story for many, many years.

Then one day a new hope was offered, it did not offer destruction of the dragon, but offered control of the dragon. Could this work? Or will the hope of the villagers be once again dashed as if they were thrown into a fiery furnace? The villagers were not yet ready to give up to a future of futility and control under this dragon. So armed with a sleeping bomb the dragon was put to sleep. This hero now put a chain around the dragon’s neck. This chain was not one of steel, nor gold, not even one of electrum. For such chains were too easy for the dragon to destroy. This chain was one of silicon and saline.

When the dragon awoke--it was shocked, for all its strength and fury were sapped. The dragon, practiced and practiced, hoping for its fire and fury to return. And from time to time it would have but a glimpse of its former glory to the surprise of the villagers. But the villagers, no longer under constant control and fear of the dragon, would just yank on the dragon’s silicone and saline chain and cause the dragon to falter once again. This gave the villagers a much needed break and hope for a future life of endless possibilities. The villagers used this new found time for so many new things. They developed new hobbies, made new friends and found new activities to make use of their energy.

So now the dragon lives in fear of the villagers and most importantly of its chain. No longer able to command the villagers with any authority, it has become subject to the villagers wishes, it now knows the previous life of the villagers. The same life of pain and compulsion, of no longer controlling its own destiny or will. The big red, fire breathing dragon has become a shadow of its own former glory. It is now a paper dragon….one with size and color but no power or fury. The capture of the dragon is complete.

Thanks BigT and Jack. I loved the story and what a great analogy about the band. Best wishes to both of you, Teresa

Absoutely wonderful. Watch out, though - my dragon is loose again!!

Donali,

Maybe your dragon learned better manners and consequences. I'm sure glad to see you popping on here more frequently. My world wasn't the same without Donali. Best wishes, Teresa

Cool story, Tony (and Jack)! Thanks for posting it.

Proposed patron saint of the S.O.R.D.: St. George.