Category: my story

Bottoms Up?

It’s been about three months since I joined the greater bariatric community. More support and body positivity than I expected. The welcome has been warm and accepting.  With the distance of the internet, I can step away from what enrages me and jaded me away from support groups in the beginning. 

One of the most interesting aspects is how selective the food police can be. As if in one breath, they seem to condemn sparkling water and applauding vodka crystal light spritzers. The food police berate people for turning to Facebook for advice, yet on one matter, there’s a clamor of “I did this early, no big deal.”

Bariatric surgery feels unique in its nutritional guidance, there appears to be no general consensus. Perhaps this conflicting advice is based on surgery type? Years post-op?

 It wasn’t until 2016 that I learned that carbonation was “forbidden” to bariatric patients; or that I shouldn’t drink liquids while eating.  We’re all coming from a different place.

However, there is one surgeon’s guideline that has not changed: alcohol. After bariatric surgery, alcohol is a serious issue.  Laparoscopic or not, Bariatric surgery is an intensive surgery, and it takes time to heal. Abstaining from alcohol for  6 months to a year based on your surgeon’s guidance is essential.  Your doctor’s advice is based on their experience, your body may can’t handle alcohol till later.  Also, it’s important to remember during the healing process, we’re not eating nearly enough substantial calories to handle alcohol.

At my year check-in, I was 17, moving to college in the fall. My doctor, in grave terms, gave me this advice:

  1. Drink a glass of water after each drink
  2. Don’t chug beer
  3. Don’t take shots, ever
  4. Take shots? Just go straight to the hospital.
  5. As a nerdy engineering student, it took almost 4 years post-op before I tested this theory. Don’t misunderstand me, I drank alcohol, but it was usually Smirnoff ice and mixed drinks.

At a friend’s 21st birthday, there was a line of flaming shots:  Disaronno with Dr. Pepper chaser.  To this day I remember the feeling, I got half the shot down and then

-BAM –

lava down my esophagus directly to my pouch.  Then the most intense cramping pain in my upper abdomen.  I felt dizzy, I couldn’t see straight. My then-boyfriend took me urgent care, where I was given a slurry of charcoal and electrolytes.

It was the first and last time I ever took a shot.

There are times when we grow from painful experiences and are the better for it. I genuinely believe this leads me to be a responsible drinker and even avoiding transfer addiction.

What’s transfer addiction? Before my surgery, I could eat a pizza in a sitting or several scoops of ice cream. I turned to food often when I was happy, stressed, or depressed. After bariatric surgery, that’s a lot harder to do. Sure, I can still enjoy most foods but I’ll admit it is still awkward to crave something, give in to the craving only to eat a few bites and be over it. It’s not the same dopamine hit that it was.

For some bariatric patients into they keep chasing after that dopamine rush. They may find it in drugs and alcohol.

Wait a minute I thought you said drinking was painful? Why would anyone do that?

I said drinking shots were painful. While I don’t have much to compare pre-surgery, I have noticed compared to others I can “hold my liquor” quite well. When I drink liquor or beer, the buzz never hangs around long, which can keep you drinking to also chase after the buzz.  One exception: without food on my stomach, drinking wine is a miserable experience. Dizzying headaches that take liters of water and time to wear off.

This is why waiting  6-12 months before consuming alcohol is essential. It gives you time to get used to your new eating lifestyle. Time to feel the weird pang of disappointment where you’re both full yet want to eat more, then realize you can’t. To find other ways of developing healthy coping behaviors.

Lastly, know that most people don’t become alcoholics post-surgery. There’s also evidence that gastric banding is less likely to lead to this (source).

If you think you’re struggling with transfer addiction, it’s imperative to get help and support.

Useful Links
Bariatric Wisdom on Transfer Addiction
Alcohol: http://www.alcoholscreening.org/
Drugs: http://www.drugscreening.org/

Isn’t it Ironic

Whenever anyone asks me what is the top benefit of having bariatric surgery, I don’t have to think hard..

It’s my health being taken seriously.

What do I mean?

If you’ve ever been overweight, then you know where I’m coming from. As an obese child, whenever I was sick, it was always blamed on weight. Sprained ankle, asthma, eczema, lethargy, the solution was still weight loss. At seven, I had my tonsils, adenoids, and uvula removed, the added benefit the doctor said: “the soft food diet should help her drop those pounds.” It didn’t.  Eventually, I avoided the doctor at all costs, trying to feign well when I was suffering.

Nowadays, when I’m at a healthcare provider(HP), our conversations go like this:

HP: *reading chart* you had gastric bypass?
Me: yes, in 2002.
HP: that’s young! How much did you regain?
Me: I’ve kept off x lbs. My highest was X.

HP: Wow, that’s great. Let’s get some tests and see what’s wrong!

Still not entirely sure of the why? Is it because surgery is the most drastic action? Is it the side effects of rewiring your insides that have been shown to prevent certain diseases? Personally, I’d like to think it’s because I am in good health. But I know better.

Friends and family, some smaller than me, relay stories of long battles to diagnose PCOS, vitamin deficiencies, mental health issues, even cancers. The reason? Doctors told them weight loss is a panacea. Insurance wouldn’t cover blood tests or CPaps until X pounds were lost or enrollment in nutrition classes to show they could demonstrate “self-control.” Instead of compassionate care, they get shamed, pamphlets, and diet pill prescriptions.

Honestly, my weight rarely comes up as a cause. Even when I think it’s my weight. After my mother passed away, my blood pressure was rising, so was my weight. My doctor was rightly concerned. I tried to pass it off on weight gain. “Not so fast,” she points at my chart on the computer screen.  “You were this weight 4 years ago and your blood pressure was great. That’s not it.”  Must admit, that interaction made me like my doctor even more.

I’m not entirely exempt. First visits are full of nurse’s assumptions that I must have diabetes and “awful” eating habits, one bite away from a heart attack.  For a while, I had a doctor that required me to get my blood sugar tested. As someone with reactive hypoglycemic who has never been even pre-diabetic, it seemed a waste of time.  Finally, I asked the nurse, “Why do we do this every time?”.
“It’s your demographic: African American, female, obese.”

 In the categories of people who get shoddy health care, overweight Black women, are really high on the list.  Healthcare providers don’t listen to our concerns, brush them off, or assume our non-compliance. Personally, I think this for a lot of discriminatory reasons including race, gender/gender identity, and class. Didn’t realize how much class was a factor till they learn I’m an engineer. Canceling appointments are now considered “she’s busy” not “she doesn’t care about her health”, eating fast food infrequently no longer gets the response “Well you ought not to eat it at all”. No, now it’s “I know your job must be very demanding.”  I often get passes for being an engineer and I still feel conflicted about that.


Being treated as a human being at the doctor, what a difference it’s made. I’m still obese but I no longer experience the level of fat-shaming in healthcare. Which goes to show you it’s not all about a number on the scale. Allot of is about societal “norms” and control.