In April of 2007, I was diagnosed with a rare lung disease called follicular bronchiolitis. There really isn't much write up on it, it's pretty rare. From my limited understanding, I have an abundance of lymph tissue surrounding my lungs. I never have had any repercussions from the lung disease, other than asthma symptoms, which I'm used to, having had asthma since I was four.
The suggestion of weight loss surgery came that June, and I was defiant. I thought having the surgery was an easy way out of the excess weight I carried. I told my then pulmunologist that this was out of the question and I would lose weight on my own.
Let me back up for a moment. I hate. Hate being told what to do.
So, needless to say, I didn't start losing the weight. I started gaining. And gaining. My health declined, and more talk of weight loss surgery. I felt everything fall apart around me. I no longer wanted to be around people. I no longer wanted to practice my faith. I lost many friends. My marriage was in trouble. I had cut myself out of living my life. I did not know what the point was anymore, I was sick, and I knew that I was going to die.
In April of 2009, I was once again hospitalized, now for what came up as double pneumonia. Here, I was diagnosed for the first time with type 2 diabetes, with a blood sugar well over 500. All I thought about was that episode of family guy where they were poking fun at the gentleman who did that commercial for diabetes. How he was cranky and in a horrible mood all of the time. Things started making a little sense. I was in the hospital for two weeks, and sent home on insulin.
I got a hang of things, testing my blood sugar, eating more well rounded meals, taking insulin, and my blood sugar started cooperating. Getting off antibiotics and steroids helped as well. I no longer felt in a horrible mood, my husband and I hashed things out, and he was more supportive than ever.
A week before my sister got married in July of 2009, I was once again hospitalized for a cellulitis infection. Cellulitis has plagued me since 2001, when I developed a condition called lymphedema. Lymphedema is swelling in the limbs, in my case, below my knee. This was no stranger to me, and through the years, I've been able to predict when an infection is coming. It was during this brief hospital stay that I was tired of being sick all the time, and I knew that if I shed my weight, I wouldn't be as sick. I would have surgery.
At my sister's wedding, I was 330 lbs.
In August of 2009, I began my journey by attending a seminar on weight loss surgery at Middlesex Hospital. I knew that I wasn't going to be able to do anything until 2010, I had used up all of my sick time at work. But, this was the beginning.
In my first visit to the surgeon in Jan 2010, I was 287 lbs. At surgery in July 2010, I weighed in at 255. Today, I am proud to say I weigh 194 lbs. I can honestly say if I never lose another pound, I'd be alright with that. The diabetes is no longer an issue. I no longer have sleep apnea. I even eliminated my high blood pressure. The surgery SAVED MY LIFE. I know if I continued down the road I was on, I would be dead at 35. There is no question about that.
I still hate being told what to do. :)
Addendum: My timeline is all wrong regarding my weight. I was my heaviest in June of 2008, not July of 2009. And I remembered this while at work today, I was at my heaviest when I transferred to another branch within Citizens Bank. At my sisters wedding, I was still tipping the scales at around 290 lbs. December of 2008, my parents bought a Wii for the family, and I used it religiously until I came down with the pneumonia in April of 2009. After I got out of the hospital, I never got back on the Wii. I had lost a good 20 lbs between Jan 2009-April 2009.
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