**Warning! This is a very long post. Please bear with me.**
I started this blog many years ago to try to be accountable to a journey of weight-loss and exercise. I would list my food journals, my exercise, and track my journey to a better version of myself. That was so successful that I now am a completely different person.
PSYCH! I had you fooled, didn’t I? Of course not. I have never been particularly successful at many things in my life. I was lucky enough to find an amazing woman who loves me as much as I love her. And together we have four phenomenal children. Through it all, I would love to say that I have been the father that I always wanted to be, but that’s not the case. I’ve not been a great father. Hopefully, I’ve not been a bad father.
Anyway, through all of this, I have maintained a plan of losing weight and getting back to a healthy lifestyle. I’ve reached the point in my life where drastic measures must be taken. I always maintained that I would only ever resort to bariatric surgery as a last resort. Back in many years ago, I had my appendix out. Several years after that, I developed a hernia through one of the scope sites from my appendix operation. It started off small. I weighed over 300 lbs. at this time, probably closer to 400 lbs. I went to a surgeon for a consult, and he said, “get bariatric surgery, loose 100 lbs., and we’ll talk.” As the years went on, it got larger and I got heavier, all the while thinking that my world was on the verge of turning around. I have struggled through getting worse and worse in my health and in my stamina, all the while my hernia was getting larger and larger.
I finally realized that I needed to take the bull by the horns and just suck it up. I was to the point in my life where I can’t get around. I can’t drive, I can’t ride comfortably in a car. I can’t walk down the street. The pandemic has brought this to a real head where I can’t make it comfortably through the house. The time had come to take the plunge and start working toward bariatric surgery. In all of this, I have decided it’s time to come really clean and give an honest account of what my life is like.
In coming back to this, I discovered a post that I wrote, but never published. This was written a couple of years ago when we went on a trip to Pennsylvania when our youngest buys participated in an early music workshop. I’m going to quote from some of that post:
There comes a time in the life of every fat person when they face the reality of what their life has become. “But, Tony,” I hear you say, “don’t you deal with the reality of being a fat man every day of your life?” To which I reply, “Bitch!” and “yes,” as with all chronic conditions, you learn to live with the day-to-day problems, but then a special occasion or circumstance will come up and you are reminded exactly how limiting your condition has become. As a fat man and a performer, I deal with the struggles of movement and (usually) singing, possibly dancing, climbing stairs, etc. They become temporary issues while a production is running, and I generally find accommodations that I can make while we’re working. [As a side note, I am now quite beyond being able to perform in any way, shape, or form. It breaks my heart like nothing else.]
This gets progressively harder when I take a trip with my family. I have reached the point where prolonged (and by this, I mean, 5-10 minutes) of standing or walking causes my back to ache to the point of feeling like the muscles are seizing up. We recently returned from a trip to Pennsylvania, and I was struck by what this meant for me: While my wife was enjoying the shopping and sightseeing, I was constantly trying to gauge where I could sit, what I could do to make my path shorter and easier, and grumbling internally over the crap I was enduring and how truly poopy my health and life have become because of my laziness. My long-suffering, unbelievably wonderful and, against all rational thought, loving wife (I say loving because who else but someone who loves me would put up with this crap!), looks me straight in the eye and says, “What are you willing to do to change?”
Now, I know that that is exactly the wise, caring, loving response that I need. But I’m selfish and horrible, and so it is not what I want to hear. As with any situation where I feel like things are falling apart for me, I want someone to tell me that I’ve been dealt a vicious hand by life and that it will all be corrected when my fairy godmother waves her magic wand. WHY DOES THAT NEVER HAPPEN!?!? But she is right, and somehow that makes it even harder to like. I should be right, but so frequently am not. So, the question remains, “What am I going to do to change?”
Clearly, a huge part of this must come down to diet and exercise. Something that I have so far excelled at. NOT!! It makes it difficult to be huge and not able to stand or move very much. And I try to watch what I eat, but then I find myself watching myself eat…a lot! I really do try to limit myself. I just don’t do well at not cheating.
And then there’s that whole problem with dieting terminology. A diet is limiting, restrictive, there are rules and shouldn’ts and if you slip up, you’re cheating. I tried Weight Watchers for a while, and it is really a good program, but it stopped working for me when my mother died, and I dipped into a depression. Before that, the program was awesome and wonderful, butterflies and unicorns! After that, it just slowly declined into a weekly litany of what was wrong with me. And then it seemed pointless to keep pouring money into an empty hole. I work at a job where I sit answering phones all day. Have for over 20 years. It isn’t the most conducive to getting exercise. I get home and I’m tired. Last thing I want to do is go for a walk or to the gym. We had a treadmill, but it broke. We have a recumbent bike, but the seat will not adjust and it’s just at the wrong place to be comfortable.
I need to do something. I need the motivation to do something. I need someone kicking me in the butt to do something. I’m amazed how my hatred of my situation is not will power enough to get me off the couch. I have written previously about my niece who stated that part of the reason she went into nutrition was to help me. She has tried a few times to help me out with coaching, but each time, I end up dropping the ball. She doesn’t want to be too pushy, and I get that. I need to want this bad enough to actually do it. I want it badly. I just haven’t found that magic mix to help me make that commitment.
I have now come to the point where I know that I will not achieve this through diet and exercise alone. The biggest thing that keeps me from getting around is my hernia. It prevents me from lifting my legs to any extent. I cannot lift them more than a few inches. I cannot step over most things on the floor, and I cannot sidestep easily without the feeling of utter dread that I will fall over. I am now to the point that if I do fall over, it is a monumental task to try to get me back to my feet. I have to sleep on my left side, and it is a struggle to get into and out of bed. Going up and down stairs is a major struggle. I have been working from home for a couple of years and things have only gotten worse. I literally cannot walk for any real distance. We took family pictures up at a lake above Alta and it took me the better part of an hour or more to get near the lake, I never actually made it to the lake. And it took another hour to get back to the car. I would stand up and walk for maybe 20 feet, stop, setup the camp chair, and sit to recover before doing it all over again. My 90-year-old father ran circles around me. It was one of the most humiliating moments of my life.
My work insurance finally added coverage for bariatric surgery. I have started the process to get the surgery. I am over 550 lbs. now. I have to lose about 200 lbs. before I can get my hernia corrected. While insurance covers the surgery, I still need to cover about $5000 out of pocket. One of my dearest friends, Joe Thompson, started a GoFundMe to help cover the costs of this surgery. It embarrasses me to have to ask anyone for this kind of help. But I want to be around longer with my dear wife, Kris. I want to see my kids all get married. I want to see my grandkids grow up and be there for them. I can’t do that without this happening. I’m going to try to keep regular updates on this blog and be painfully honest about what I am going through. Hopefully, it will help someone else who might be going through a similar experience. Many people have already donated, and I can’t say how deeply moved and grateful I am for their support. If you can help with the GoFundMe, please do. You can find it at https://gofund.me/0c437d0f.
Hopefully, this has been helpful. Hopefully, this has enlightening. Hopefully, I haven’t embarrassed myself more than I have in other ways. No jokes today. Much love to you all!
Hey, Fatso...! 