Gene S.

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Well, I went through with it, and I'm glad that part is over. 

The pre-op diet was very hard for me.  The surgery itself went well but the post-op gas and nausea were intense.  However, starting on day 2 post-op, I was clear of those nasty feelings and started recovering.

And now in a few days, the staples come out!

I haven't weighed myself since day of surgery (i was 263, down from around 280 at my initial surgical consultation with Dr. Kim), so I'm dying to find out how much I've lost on Wednesday at the doc's office.  I'm thinking around 255, keeping fingers crossed.

I'm down already to XL shirts and size 40 pants.  My XXL shirts look ridiculous on me and the 44 pants literally fall off.  I am starting to get a lot of compliments which is great and makes the liquid diet easier to tolerate.

Now that I'm off all the pain meds and the anesthesia is out of my system, hunger has come back.  I am hopeful that's just the grehlin leftovers.  Then again, I'm only getting 300-500 calories a day now.  I'm drinking 2-3 Muscle Milk shakes per day and flavored water, that's it.

I seem to have a fixation on food that changes every few days.  Pre-op, it was pizza.  Post-op, I have been fantasizing about meat.  I have had dreams involving ham.

Dr. Kim has a pretty strict post-op diet; 3 weeks liquid, 2 weeks mushy, then off to regular food.   So I still have two more weeks before I can start mushies.  Heck, even a banana would be ambrosia-like at this point.

I pride myself on being self-aware, tuned in to my innermost motivations while maintaining unflinching honesty.  My education, experience, and peculiar insight into the human condition qualifies me to help anyone who needs my assistance, whether they know they need it or not.

What a load of shit.

The weight loss journey I am on has uncovered a veritable cornucopia (food analogy, probably not the best choice but what the hell) of denials, rationalizations, and just plain bull-headedness.  It goes something like this:

Person X on these forums, or my wife, or whomever, identifies an issue in their life.  I immediately diagnose it, and, free of charge, arrogantly dispense my wisdom of the ages for the benefit of the poor unwashed and ignorant listener.  I've got it all figured out.

Rereading many of my posts, I have uncovered the truth -- that I am projecting: the art of putting one's own feelings/problems into someone else's head.  Seeing others' problems through one's own problem-filled lenses, and assuming they have same problems.  Or even better, as in my case -- that they actually are the other person's problems, and not my own at all.  Nice trick: project it onto someone else and then continue to live in denial!

Case in point: in this thread ( www.obesityhelp.com/forums/amos/3992153/MEN-AND-SEX-HELP/), I made the point that having sex and making emotional connections out of neediness and desperation is bad and unhealthy.  And yet I am so incredibly guilty of that myself.  After the loss of my parents, I have no family.  My wife and child are my entire family.  I have wrapped all of my insecurities in a bundle and laid them at my lovely wife's feet and asked (nay, demanded) her to give me the love, attention, and affection that I need to feel good about myself.  I have clung to my wife like she was the proverbial life preserver.  How incredibly unfair to her.

So while I lecture poor Tina on her thread ... I need to be diagnosing and curing myself.

This epiphany came after a lengthy (!) argument with wifey tonight.  I have so much wrapped into our relationship that it's frankly impossible for any person to give me enough affection and attention.  But it's so much easier to blame the other person, isn't it?  To make themresponsible for my lack of self-esteem.  I call my wife stubborn, but it's really me being stubborn about getting my needs met.

The fact is that my own behaviors (food-related and otherwise) have been the primary cause of my weight gain and the insecurities that flow from that.    There is no one to blame but myself.

I got myself into this mess, and I need to get myself out of it.  So this night, tonight, when I cannot sleep with all of life's tumult around me, I have vowed to change.  I have taken some permanent steps already and more are coming (WLS being one of them).  But by God I'm going to be the person I need to be for my wife and child.  I'm going to give and love and shut out the selfish neediness.  I'm going to talk less and listen more.  And mainly, I'm going to become other-focused and stop being the center of my existence.  I am convinced that this is at the heart of my recovery.

Ironically, blogging about one's self-centeredness is inherently ... self-centered.  I post this only as a way of taking responsibility for my muleheaded self-centeredness and arrogance, and now I move on to other topics.  But in the future, I'm going to do my damnedest to keep the projection and hypocrisy away -- so feel free to point it out if and when you notice it.

Just make sure you aren't projecting on me. 

(( This post contains a lot of personal, TMI-information.  For mature audiences only.  ))

I have previously posted that one of my main motivators for weight loss surgery was to connect with my wife.  I am totally hot for her, but we have sex simply because she knows I want it.  She's doing it for me, not because she wants it.

Long story short, wifey is (to date) inorgasmic and has a low libido (for a variety of legitimate reasons) and it's really getting to me.  We've been married five years and I'll be damned if I'm going to let my belly and overall appearance get in the way of intimacy.  I want to remove all the barriers I can, to take charge in the areas that I can actually effect change.  My theory here is that if I get skinny, focus on being the right kind of me, and can get her over the orgasm hump, that the libido issues will be a thing of the past.  I want red hot monogamy. 

Funny how the decision to improve my life via the sleeve has given me the resolve to fix other broken areas in my life.  Who knew how much the weight has been holding me back?  No more!

Anyway, I am in the process of transforming myself, pre-op, into the guy I want to be for her.  This means, besides getting skinny:

- taking the lead instead of being passive
- not being a slob
- talking less
- being assertive sexually
- helping in parenting duties more
- acting confident, even when I don't feel confident
- treating her right, but not being a doormat either

Essentially, I am trying to channel Cary Grant and Barry White. 

Step One of Operation Orgasm (tm):  A full body massage with grapeseed oil, after baby Bear is asleep.  All day I've been mostly the new-and-improved Bear.  I'm TCB baby.  And now, in our room, the scented candle is lit.  She fights me on getting naked under the towel, but I manage to get her down to her panties.  Wifey has surrendered to my lovin' will.

I work the oil into her body slowly, quietly, letting her enjoy my hands on her.  Letting her relax.  I'm working her over thoroughly, from neck to toes.  Her defenses are lowering, and I pounce -- even her glutes get the rubdown.  I spend a lot of time on her inner thighs, working my thumbs down her legs.  I'm keeping it intimate but not overtly sexual. 

About a half hour later, she is totally relaxed, having gone from stubborn and tense to mellow and happy.  "Where have you been all my life?" she asks.

"I've been right here, baby."

"Have you been practicing that?"

"No," I say with a smile and a kiss as I leave her to fall asleep.  "You are a beautiful, lovely woman.  Don't ever forget that, baby."

Stay tuned for Step Two.

The food funeral is over.  I have no desire to eat junk anymore (knock on wood).  So although my liquid diet doesn't officially start until 8/10/09 ...

I'm starting the liquid diet now.  It's the start of a new month.  Plus, I am the best man in a friend's wedding in two weeks, so this will give me a little head start on the weight loss for posterity's (and wedding photos') sake.  I'm 280ish now ... let's see how 3.5 weeks of liquid diet pre-op suits me.  I figure I may as well start training my body now.

It's just time.  So many of my bad behaviors are becoming obvious to me now ... the food sneaking, food as my drug, all the usual stuff.  I have been in denial for about 15 years.  It stops here and now.

In order to face up to the truth, I'm going to post some very unflattering pictures here.  The closeups nobody wants to admit to.  I don't want to give the denial any room to sneak back in.  I want to be confronted with my fatness -- to face it head on.

I decided to go ahead and have some funerals for my favorite foods before the all-liquid diet on 8/10/09.

Feel free to laugh along with me ... I've had my last:

* Oreos
*  Planter's dry roasted peanuts
* regular potato chips
*  7-11 Oscar Meyer hotdog
*  fast food:
    - fries
    - burger
    - fried fish

The main ones left -- fried chicken and pizza.  And then, i'm done.  Really.  The last of the funerals should be in the next few days, and then ... my new life begins.  Odd thing about the "funeral" ... it feels not like the food is dead to me, but that the old me is dying.  The funeral is for a part of me.

The other funny thing about the food funeral ... it didn't taste as good as I remembered, and many of the "foods" (I use that term loosely) left the "rock" feeling in my belly after eating, not to mention unpleasant intestinal eruptions.  The whole experience has not been as euphoric as I have imagined; in many cases, I've been left with a "Meh, is that it?" sort of feeling.

Is it possible that ... oh dear ... FOOD IS REALLY NOT THAT IMPORTANT?!?!?

What a concept.  I'll have to get my mind around that one.

First, the good news: my credit application with Care Credit was approved, so I'm good to go financially for the VGS.

But I confess to some pre-op nervousness.  Mostly, it is simply going under anesthetic and getting laproscopically poked and stapled and whatnot.  Even though I've had my appendix and gall bladder out already in two separate surgeries over the last 12 years.  The voice in my head (you know the one) is saying, "Bear, you could really lose weight if you wanted to.  You don't need the surgery."

Then I look in the mirror and remember the yo-yo weight.  The Phen-Fen saga.  My wife having to lift my belly so we can have intercourse.

In my present condition, I cannot win the struggle against food.  I need help.  God, please give me the courage to have this surgery and do what it takes to make it successful.  I can't keep on like this.  I am tired of being the fattest guy in my family.  I am tired of being embarrassed.  I want my wife to be hot for me again.  I am only now realizing how long I have stuffed my self-loathing into my belly and the self-fulfilling prophecy it has become.  God please open my eyes to the truth and let me be free from the chains of fat I wear.