Two Months Out

At two months out from surgery I can’t help but feel a bit down. I don’t know if I really should feel this way, though. There are a ton of positives happening right now. I am feeling great. I am very close to feeling 100% better from all repercussions of the surgery and its recovery. That in itself is amazing and I am ecstatic to be feeling like myself again. As hard as it is for me to see or “realize” my own weight-loss, there are certain signs. Things like my clothes fitting a bit looser as weeks go by. Feeling more comfortable in the seat of my own vehicle – not to mention more comfort in seats of many varieties. Intimate moments with my wife continue to get better – not that there was anything wrong with them to begin with, quite the opposite actually – but I have experienced through earlier weight-loss that situations in that arena open up even more as the weight decreases, which is just a wonderful thing as one can imagine. But probably the best sign of the actual happening of my transformation is when quite a few people whom I see on a daily basis start to make it an almost surprised point to let me know, “wow, Jim – it really shows.”

Still, there are other things that one would figure should be tell-tale signs that, well, just are not telling. On the 13th of April, about two weeks ago, I went in to CBSI for my six-week follow-up. The six-week is reserved for time to speak with the psychologist and the nutritionist to see how I am physically and emotionally adjusting to the new diet and way of life. By all means, these meetings went well and I seem to be chugging along just fine indeed. Since it had been about three weeks since I had checked my weight, I figured after speaking to the ladies downstairs about the focus of the appointment, I should head upstairs and step on the scale. You can imagine my shock when that scale told me that in the weeks since I last checked my weight I had gained five pounds…

What the fuck!

Let me tell you folks, when you go through what I have been through – the decision making, the idea that I was voluntarily cut open and re-arranged on the inside – not to mention almost three full weeks of feeling like I was going to die – all for the benefit of losing weight - and a scale tells you that you have gained five pounds… well, it’s like getting punched in the stomach. I was at a complete loss.

After talking with Tess and a few select friends about this, I was able to try and rationalize a few things that helped me to calm down. First, my body had just dropped 40 pounds very fast and possibly needed to re-balance itself. I experienced something similar when I did MediFast. Secondly, I had been lifting weights at this point for a little more than a week. Though I doubt I had, at that point, gained five pounds of muscle weight, I would guess there was some. I have also heard that when one starts to put on muscle weight the body likes to retain water. The last thing that was brought to my attention was that plateaus happen after this surgery. It’s printed in black and white right in the “big book.” I suppose that I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

I decided then that I would wait until two-months out to see what the scale was telling me. If I was still at 418 then I would contact the surgeons to make sure all is normal. I am confident in all that I am doing care-wise after surgery. I may have had a few bites of chocolate during Easter, but as for the greater picture I feel that I am doing an exceptional job with my new lifestyle.

Well, here we are at two months. I had to stop in to my PCP’s office for some lab-work on the morning of the 23rd, so it was there I would check my official two-month weight.

418 still. Still five pounds up. What the fuck…

Perhaps you can see why I am a bit upset? I called the doctor’s Friday. They were all in surgery that day, so I await a call back from Dawn to chat with her about what is going on with me. All the while I am trying to keep my mind on those positive aspects I mentioned earlier.

Looser clothes and seats.

Better sex.

Visual confirmation.

Somehow it all doesn’t help much. I am hoping the doctor’s will tell me this is normal. I am hoping that the next time you hear from me I am in a better mood. In the meantime, you have just read my official two-month update. Picture included – which I am also not too convinced by, unfortunately.