Holiday’s heapin’ helpings weigh heavy on the mind

By ROBERT MORGAN

I’m a loser.

Never have I been happier to label myself as such. It’s not due to failure. It’s because of success. I have succeeded in losing weight at a rapid pace in my first three months after Lap-Band surgery.

I overcame a major surgery, one minor setback, four weeks of liquid dieting and developed a love for baby food again after 35 years.

The first post-surgery milestone was also a breeze when I got my first Lap-Band fill on Halloween. I had lost 55 pounds in the first 10 weeks but did not lose anything in the 10 days before Oct. 31.

The successful fill limited my intake and I was back to liquids and pureed food again. I thought it came at a great time because Thanksgiving was just around the corner.

In the meantime, I started to notice changes. My pants are now tightened with a string because I’m too cheap to buy ones that fit. Why should I when I plan to have to toss them out by summer?

My feet feel better than they have in a long time. They don’t hurt at the end of the day and are not swollen in the morning.

Perhaps the best change is my eating. Sure, I eat significantly less than the average person does, but I also look at food differently. I read nutritional labels as if they were basketball box scores.

I don’t snack just because the “big game” is on television. I don’t have a calorie-loaded drink just to fit in when we visit friends.

For the first time in my life I have taken control of my eating habits. I don’t let the food work me, I work the food.

The Lap-Band is a tool, but it is not a magical wand.

Even in small quantities, drinking egg nog and eating apple pie over the holiday would be slipping future pounds through the device that has a stranglehold on my stomach. Not a good idea.

My meals are still limited to one cup — half a cup of protein followed by half a cup of vegetables or fruit. I have not had bread, pasta, sugar or carbonated drinks since September, and it’s likely I will not have any of those items for several years.

I was back to normal eating by the time the holiday rolled around. Normal means I could eat up to three ounces of shredded meat and the same amount of well-steamed vegetables.

Eat anything that is overcooked, undercooked or do not chewed well enough and it gets lodged in my chest above the Lap-Band. In those cases, severe chest pains and vomiting quickly follow.

The week before I had to worry about making it through Thanksgiving, I attended my first Lap-Band support group meeting. The meeting is part of the Lap-Band program at Presbyterian Hospital of Denton.

I was nervous about meeting other “banders.” Knowing I was Dr. Curtis Mosier’s heaviest patient, I didn’t know how others would accept me.

Being around groups is something obese people try to avoid. Getting looks of disgust from adults or being stared down by children who don’t know any better are the two main reasons we keep to ourselves. We try to draw as little attention as possible.

Lap-Band coordinator Judy Spira knows how to make a fat guy feel appreciated. In the round-table discussion, she is quick to throw out a few humorous stories that allow all of us to feel invited and confident.

Since bariatric weight-loss surgery is still relatively new, doctors are still learning about it. That is what is best about the support group – we share any problems or struggles we are facing. It’s likely someone else has faced a similar situation. We get answers that some doctors do not have yet.

Each bandster takes about 10 minutes during the meeting to let the group know all the small details — name, age, surgery date, weight loss and problems or successes. It’s a great opportunity to hear difficulties others have had and their remedies. And the success stories are motivational tools for all of us.

I was scared to tell my story because it’s the first time I have spoken and admitted that I started my journey at a hospital record 509 pounds. Sure, printing that in the newspaper was easy because I didn’t have to see reactions or stare at my gut.

I thought I would crawl under the table and hide after my announcement. Instead, the group clapped for me and my 55-pound weight loss in eight weeks.

That has been the greatest 30 seconds of my post-surgery life. It has made me confident being in public. I rarely worry what others are thinking when they see me because I know there are people who really care.

It also gave me an extra boost going into the holidays. Food was my biggest concern with Thanksgiving.

The annual holiday feast at Grandma Rojas’ in Mesquite is like most gatherings – there is enough food to feed an army – and not an ounce of it is good for you. The meat selection was simple: turkey and glazed ham, both of which I could not eat because they were too tough to get down the pipe.

Since we were there for the day (with a couple of big NFL games on TV), I had to rummage through the offerings to find something to eat throughout our visit.

Baked sweet potatoes smothered in brown sugar glaze and nuts, hash-brown casserole, a choice of two different stuffings, broccoli rice casserole and a four-foot long table covered in desserts were just the tip of the iceberg.

My mother-in-law, Donna Rojas, tapped me on the shoulder and said she had made me a small bowl of steamed broccoli that was on the counter in the back of the kitchen.

Sarcastically I thought to myself, “Wow, that’s just superb! I will go eat my broccoli while for the next four hours I watch everyone stuff themselves like a Thanksgiving Day turkey.”

So, I had my greens and scooped two spoonfuls of sweet potatoes from underneath all the goop. I swear that brown sugar glaze was whispering to me to eat some of it.

As everyone used two hands to carry their plate to one of the dining tables, my load was comical. I carried my large white plate – which looked like it had a green dot and a brown dot on it – to the table where my wife was enjoying her small buffet. The dots were a tablespoon of broccoli and the same amount of sweet potato.

After the feast – which included listening to how great all the food was that I couldn’t eat – we watched the Dallas Cowboys. Then it was round two for food.

Thank goodness one of the cousins suggested we play a card game that is a family tradition — Chinaso. We played for what seemed like two hours. It was fun, and it’s one of the things I enjoy about visiting our family in Mesquite.

It wasn’t too long before the two dots of vegetables wore off and I was hungry. I decided to shred the softest piece of meat I could find and have just two or three bites – enough to fill my four-ounce stomach pouch.

It was a mistake. The dry turkey made it to the top of my stomoach, but it immediately came back up.

I was done with Thanksgiving.

A couple of days later, I made my regular bi-weekly visit to the hospital to get weighed. It’s common to gain weight, or at best hold steady, through the holiday. I lost eight pounds and couldn’t be happier at 439 pounds.

I was now down 70 pounds in a two and a half months.

Christmas came early as far as I was concerned.

The first holiday was a success, though it had its challenges. But December was certainly going to be tougher. With Christmas fast approaching, another feast at grandma’s loomed.

The next few weeks would also include my second fill that the doctor will do for the first time without an X-ray to guide him. That long needle that he sticks into my pin cushion of a tummy – well, he will guide it into my port with memory and expertise.

I also had New Year’s Eve coming up. My wife and I always go out for the special evening because it’s the night we got engaged. It has always held special meaning for us.

My next three weeks were destined to be the most eventful to date. Eating, drinking and getting poked were three more challenges this loser was ready to face.