irishman1968
A Day In The Life...
I was born over 10 pounds (sorry, Mom!)......was heavy ALL of my life. Struggled with the cruel name-calling, extra-large (husky) school clothes, and lack of school-dance dates. Ironically, I was 'pencil-thin' my Senior year in high school, and started to regain weight in college (music-education major...drums, guitar, piano). Found myself with a pregnant girlfriend at age 19. Had a beautiful daughter, had a horrible marriage, and really packed on the pounds from there. Divorce #1 in the books, I went out searching for true love. :::ugh:::
Got a great job (healthcare accounting), and went on the prowl looking for my 'soulmate'. Instead, I settled & married a beautiful-on-the-outside, high-maintenance, 'comes from money', materialistic, mentally abusive, selfish, and cheating person who broke my heart in more ways that I care to share with you right here (I'm not bitter...really!). She gave me a son, a beautiful, happy boy who makes me smile to this day. Good things come from bad situations. Bad things happen to good people. Life went along on auto-pilot for a couple of years. I was numb to myself, my family, and to the world. Morbidly obese. unhappy, unhealthy, and severely depressed, I turned to my best friend for comfort: food.
Gained some serious weight, and found myself weighing in at 404 pounds on a 6' 1" frame. Not a pretty picture. Found myself sneaking food, crying in the dark, and simply wishing that God would take me from this horrible Earth. Nothing to live for. Useless, fat, and a burden to my family. Second marriage on the rocks, and divorce papers filed, yet again. Divorce #2. This was my 'rock bottom.'
Then, my life took an unexpected turn: during an office visit with my good-friend, and doctor, he turned to me at the end of the visit and said the following: "Jeff....if you continue to eat yourself to death, you need to find another physician. You are on the strongest asthma meds I can give you, and you still can't breathe. You're not going to watch either one of your kids graduate, and they will bury your fat ass without knowing you, and without having their kids know you." Wow...ouch. That hurt. So, he gave me the number to the local weight loss surgery center, and my life was never the same.
Had RNY on 10/4/2004....Dr. Keith Gersin performed a flawless surgery. You won't find a more competent, caring, and professional surgeon on this planet. Lost 80 pounds in 4 months. People (strangers, 'friends', co-workers, etc.) who wouldn't give me the time of day are now starting to notice me. Hypocrites. Clothes were literally falling off of me, and I started getting my 'mojo' back. I love to shop now! It's hard to find clothes when you're obese...Kenneth Cole doesn't make XXXL shirts! My family was ecstatic, more for health reasons than anything, but also glad that they got the 'real Jeff' back in their lives. Women were actually giving me a 'second look', and not because they were afraid that I would scarf all of the crab legs at the buffet before they got there!
Fast forward to now..... I'm over 6 years post-op. I've lost nearly 200 pounds. I went from a size 58 pants to a size 34. From a XXXL shirt to an 'average' large. My neck went from 21 1/2 inches to 16 1/2 inches. Finally able to go without a shirt. No plastics...my body is far from perfect, but it's perfect for me right now. I'm a much more stable and grounded father (love my kids...they are the sole reason I was born!), a better son, and a more peaceful person all around. WLS saved my life. Period. I would do it all over again in a second. No regrets. Except that I would've done it much earlier. I have been blessed with a 'second chance' at life, and I will never be that 404 pound person again. He's dead to me.
Never again. Never. May your journey be a blessed one....
"There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle."
~ Albert Einstein ~
Short version of a long life story: Grandma & Grandpa came from Tipperary, Ireland to the US....opened up a small clothing/tailor shop in Boston, Mass. They got drunk (there's a shocker), had sex, and my Dad was born. Dad was in the Navy, met my Mom, got drunk (another shocker), had sex, and I was born.
