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/

Feverpitch

In May 2002, I had open RNY bariatric surgery. I was 16 and my life would never be the be same…

17 years ago, my parents and I made a decision that changed my life. At the time, we couldn’t begin to fathom how much. At 16, I had roux en y gastric bypass surgery. Bariatric surgery. Weight loss surgery.

One hazy May morning in 2002, parts of my young body were permanently rearranged. The date is not clear, I had a panic attack on the operating table on the scheduled date. They had to postpone the surgery. Luckily, my parents were patient, understanding, and gainfully employed.

I do not regret having bariatric surgery. Nor do I have any contempt for my parents. They sincerely believed without “the surgery” (as it’s known in my family), I would not be here today. Whether this is true can never genuinely be known.

I’ve been one of the lucky ones. Many have complications, needing feeding tubes or even dying. Still more were promised a long term weight loss solution, only to regain much or more weight. Others were promised deliverance from “fat illnesses” such as high blood pressure, CPAP, challenging to find veins. They later realize these things aren’t as weight-dependent as some medical professions would like us to believe.

This journey has primarily been a solitary walk. My friends and family have been there to support me. However, I never found myself in a support group, a team, working towards the same goal. As a teenage bariatric patient, there were few my age. Being in a group of adults was awkward and unfamiliar. Without major complications and expected results, I hummed along through college as an “acceptably fat” young woman.

As an adult, far past the honeymoon phase, I attempted joining my local bariatric support group. There I listened to tales of bariatric kryptonite, aka Starbucks drinks; the hushed confessions of weights hidden in underwear or binges to “make weight” to qualify for the surgery. I spoke out. Candidly. After a few weeks, I was asked not to return. It was likely for the best for everyone.

It was a shock to see patients that I didn’t consider very overweight having the surgery. My introduction to bariatric surgery was that it would prevent my early demise. Becoming thin was never my goal. Hearing stories about those who gained weight, stuffed weights to qualify, I judged. I was asked not to return.

In hindsight, I do regret being so judgemental. Compassion and understanding of those people’s mental anguish and their eating disorder is a kinder approach. Like many of you, I’m still learning and growing.

In online support groups, I vent out loud to my screen or my journal rather than seem unhelpful. I try to keep the gems, discard the rest, but there’s still a lot of unhealthy thinking and behaviors. It wasn’t right for my health, and I saw others being hurt. For most people, losing 50,60,100,150lbs and no longer needing insulin, a CPAP, etc. would rightly be a crowning achievement. Unfortunately, as a bariatric patient, sometimes you still feel like a failure.

After bariatric surgery, it’s challenging to feel that you belong. 

 Exclaim about your weight loss? You took the “easy way out” or “you’re still fat.” Body positive and loving yourself? Is that even possible after you turned your insides around to lose weight? Sometimes, I feel like a fraud around fat positive folk.

Still being obese, I get a lot of unsolicited weight loss advice. Albeit much of it stops when I mention I lost 150lbs, some will press on “how much more are you going to lose?” More? How much can a body take? Personally, I’ve met my goal for the surgery: no more sleeping with an oxygen mask, no diabetes, good blood pressure, cholesterol. Also, I can shop for clothes in stores where I live. 

These days I’m more focused on being kind to my body. For me that means getting my protein in, staying hydrated, and not eating things that make me sick. Which might be different from what makes you ill.

My goal is to continue being a successful bariatric patient and offering an honest view on life on the other side.

Oh, and taking my vitamins every day for the rest of my life. 

(they’re not kidding about that one.)