So it turns out I have a lot of problems, one of them being I’m no longer 430 pounds.  I can no longer use that extra cushion of comfort as an excuse for not participating in life. 

Now I’m really screwed; 27 years old and never truly been released out into the wild.  I always assumed it was for society’s protection.  It’s been a damn easy life style hanging on my parents’ coattails all these years.  I could keep this up, but it only seems fair to test other waters before I settle.

I’m terrified of failure and even more petrified of success.  Change and the unknown are hard and continually burying your head in the sand sounds much for favorable; but what’s the worst possible thing that could happen?  And more importantly why does it matter? 

My therapist asked me today, “What do you think life would be like if you could live without fear?  Can you imagine it?”

“My God,” I replied, “It’d be wonderful and I’d feel so sorry for everyone else in the world.”  And that’s the answer to the question, isn’t it?

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my recent hobby (reading books about ancient history) is that since the dawn of mankind we’ve been fucked.  People in the past managed cataclysmic errors in their lives just as we’ve done today and will most assuredly keep up the habit in the future. Noone was ever even remotely perfect and in the end, everyone became a bastard.

Intro to the Weightloss Chronicles or as it's most recently become affectionately referred to: Go fuck yourself.

When I was 25 I regarded gastric bypass as nothing more than a heinous punishment for the morbidly obese created by the medical society.  However my therapist's PCP had recently attended a seminar for the Roux-en-Y and was quite impressed with the recent medical breakthroughs.  So 26 had rolled over and in July of 2003 I began researching this surgery.

In truth I was desperately in need of this surgery.  At the time I topped the scales at 430 and my BMI was a staggering 80 in comparison to a normal 24.  Options were quickly diminishing as I'd arrived at the point where a mere few steps tired me out.  While I suffered from none of the usual co-morbidities: diabetes, high blood pressure, over the top cholesterol, sleep apnea, etc -- this was obviously no way for a person to live.

This is the story of my journey through WLS beginning in July 2003 -- chronicling the events before, during and surgery, and of course all the complications, hardships it entailed, but also the triumphs and victories.

This isn't one those preachy, "Here's what I think you should do stories."  It's just my story -- take from it what you will.

If you'd like to start at the beginning try here.

This was me at 430