Alright, I'm gonna come clean...

Some of you who read this blog and don't know me well have asked how I managed to lose 94 lbs in 9 months. I have skirted around the issue by saying that I am on a high-protein, low-carb diet, which is not a lie, but it's not the whole truth either. For those who are struggling with being overweight and overeating, I feel that I am doing a disservice by not being totally honest. So here goes (taking a deep breath)...

I had gastric bypass surgery on November 17th, 2005. There, I said it.

Now, some people are under the misguided assumption that weight loss surgery is the easy way out, the magic cure, the silver bullet. My older sister actually said, "You cheated." I am here to tell you that it's not that easy.

When other women tell me they are jealous of me I laugh. Yes, I am at a normal weight. Yes, I can wear a size 6. Yes, I can exercise, enjoy physical activity, and have a lot more energy and stamina. Yes, I look like a totally different person. But it's not all sunshine and lollipops.

I had this surgery because I was diabetic, had heart problems, had acid reflux disease that was burning a hole in my esophagus, and have a neurological disease that was made worse by my excessive weight. I ate when I was bored, stressed, sad, happy, angry... food was my drug of choice. I finally came to the realization that my eating habits would kill me, and that, after 18 years of yo-yo dieting, schemes and scams, and exercise programs I couldn't commit to, I was powerless to change. I knew that I had to make it physically impossible to overeat or I would be dead within ten years.

I am one of the few people who has been blessed enough to not have any real complications, but there are plenty of people who end up with infections, strictures that close off the opening to their stomach, vomiting, paralysis of the stomach and intestinal muscles, and some even die as a result of the surgery.

I can't eat sweets. No candy, no desserts, no regular soda, no birthday cake, no pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving. It is awkward to refuse dessert at a party or a dinner at someone's house, and more awkward to explain why.Too much sugar causes a condition called dumping, where the intestines dump loads of fluid into my bloodstream to counteract the sugar overload. My heart races, I feel like I'm burning up, I get light-headed, and generally feel like I want to die for about 30 minutes. Then I have to sleep for an hour or so to recover. It's bad enough when it happens at home, but it's happened a couple times in public, and it really blows. The same thing happens when I eat things that are greasy or fatty.

I have to avoid fresh-baked bread, because I don't produce enough stomach acid to break it down, so it becomes a big lump in my stomach and gets stuck. I have to avoid rice because it expands in my stomach, which is about the size of my thumb, and gets stuck. I have to chew each bite of food to the consistency of applesauce because if I swallow something that is bigger than my stomach opening (about the size of a pencil eraser), it will get stuck. When something gets stuck, the only thing I can do is try to puke it out. If that doesn't work, I will end up in the ER at Abbott-Northwestern, getting the stuck food removed by endoscopy. Not fun, and definitely not attractive. So far, my fear of such distress and my fear of making a spectacle of myself in public has kept me from breaking the eating rules of a bariatric post-op.

I have to exercise at least three times a week, just like anyone else. I do an hour of cardio and a lot of strength training three to five days a week. If I don't do this, I run the risk of gaining the weight back.

I eat three small meals a day, and I avoid snacking as much as possible. I drink anywhere from 42-64 oz of water every day. I work hard to get in 50-80 grams of protein a day. I avoid carbs. I average 500-700 calories a day. I take multivitamins and chewable calcium supplements every day, and I give myself a vitamin B12 injection once a month. Sometimes I snack way more than I should, and I have been known to make a meal out of a stack of barbecue flavored Pringles and then try to justify it.

On the appearances front, I still have an extensive map of stretch marks from all the excess weight and several pregnancies. I have loose skin that can only be corrected by having several expensive plastic surgeries. It is hard to look at myself in the mirror without my clothes, because I look like the saggy-baggy elephant from that Little Golden Book story. I am a wreck. My hair started falling out about two months after my surgery as a result of the shock of major surgery on my system coupled with accelerated weight loss. Now that I'm through losing weight my hair is starting to get thicker again, but a lot of it is coming in white.

On the emotional side, I feel like I don't even know who I am anymore. I feel like I am capable of so much more than I gave myself credit for before surgery, and I feel I have more to offer now that I am healthy, but I am not at all sure how to go about reaching for the happiness and fulfillment I feel I want and deserve. Also, men look at me differently and treat me differently. At first I was thoroughly disgusted, but now I've come to terms with it and can see the humor in it. I am ashamed to say that I have occasionally used my appearance to get what I want, like getting the cook at McDonald's to make me an egg mcmuffin even though it was at least a half hour after breakfast ended, or letting a guy at the bar buy me a drink even though I told him he would get nothing in return. I am still trying to come to terms with my appearance. Let me tell you, I've learned that there is safety in obesity, because it can make you invisible to the world. All of a sudden people see me, and it's really kind of scary. I'm not always sure how to react. Suddenly I'm vulnerable in a way that I've never been before. I do miss the anonymity I had when I was overweight.

Now that I've stated the downside of weight loss surgery, let me say that I would do it all again in a split second if I had to. There is nothing like being able to play with my kids, going for long walks, fitting on the rides at Valleyfair, being able to stay awake all day, and sleeping well at night. I don't miss my pre-surgery regimen of eight different medications twice a day, or the finger sticks to check my blood sugar four times a day. Even with the drawbacks, even with the strict food rules, even though I'm having to redefine who I am, having this surgery was one of the best things I've ever done for myself.

(Another deep breath)... and that's the whole story. My apologies to those of you who feel I have misled you up until this point. I feel much better now that I've come clean.