My Bounce Back Story I joined Weight Watchers in May of last year. I had tried it before on my own and over the internet and had some success, but at the urging of my mother-in-law I decided to try the meetings. I did well and lost weight. Somewhere at the end of summer I stalled because of an endocrine disorder I have that causes me to gain weight. I grew increasingly frustrated. By October I still hadn’t lost any more and a family crisis involving my teenage son derailed me. Worry for my precious boy consumed me for months and losing weight lost its importance to me. I stopped going to Weight Watchers. In January, I decided to come back, but did so half-heartedly. In those few months I gained back every ounce of what I’d struggled to lose and then some. My self-worth became linked to the scale and I felt worse than ever. A few weeks back at Weight Watchers saw the scale stagnate at my highest weight ever. I became desperate and began attending meetings sporadically. A visit to my family doctor involved a conversation where she convinced me that I should probably have gastric bypass surgery, telling me that the health benefits of drastic weight loss far outweigh the risks. I spoke to the doctor in charge of my endocrine disorder about weight loss surgery, because I wasn‘t sure the surgery would be a success. I was worried that I‘d lose weight only to gain it back because of the metabolic issues that I have. He sent me home to do research and scheduled an appointment in two weeks time to talk again. And I’m glad he did. In that two weeks, I convinced myself that surgery was the way to go. Then I watched a show on Netflix called “My 600 Pound Life.” It was the story of a woman named Melissa who was about to undergo gastric bypass surgery. She was delighted by her results. I was completely mortified. I had no idea that the surgery would leave me looking like something from a Mary Shelley novel, with scars the size of my arm all over my body because of excess skin removal. I had no idea that some of the complications from the surgery could leave me hospitalized for months on end. I decided that weight loss surgery was not for me. So, I told my husband that before I’d consider something like surgery, I needed to exhaust all my options--options, that in truth, I had tried but not given 110%. I told my doctor about the stagnation at the scale and he prescribed me different medication. Then I did something I’ve never done. I decided to commit to a workout schedule. I joined the Y. I now work out eight to ten hours a week. My medication is working better. I am back at the level of weight loss I attained last summer, and am finding my way back to the goals I had last year. I am trying harder to keep my self-worth and the number on the scale separated. My rings have to be moved to different fingers when I swim or they’ll fall off. My body is changing even when the scale isn’t. Whether it’s muscle or fat, I don’t know and I don’t care, because I am determined to avoid that horrible surgery. I am attending my meetings regularly, missing only when Mother Nature floods my house or I am sick. I am succeeding at that because of the support I get here, in this room, from people just like me who are struggling to win this battle, one measly freaking pound at a time.
Posted on: Fri, 04 Jul 2014 00:36:46 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015