An Unfat Kathy

They say every journey begins with a single step.

After a couple of reschedules on the appointment, today I took that first step on getting to be an unfat Kathy and sat down to talk about it with my doctor.

Well, actually she's a nurse practitioner.  And she's a fellow fat Kathy.  Almost.  She's a fat Katie.  She had Bariatric Surgery and then, all in the same year, she went back to school to advance her degree, got married, and moved from Pittsburgh to Cumberland.  And with all that stress, she gained most of the weight back.  I like that she not only knows the struggle, but she's right there in the trenches with me.  It feels like a whole different ballgame than when a skinny person is cheering you on...

I wasn't quite sure what to expect today, but it seems that in the beginning there's a lot of mental working out.  I came home with about 20 pages of 'homework' to fill out reflectively.

And it jumped right into the hard stuff.

The first thing was to complete a chart.  On the left side, it lists a series of weight ranges and across the bottom age groupings.  The task was to make an "x" for low and high weight in each age grouping and then draw a line connecting the dots.  Basically, it would be a Line Chart if you were doing it in Excel.  Next, you look at each point where the line is trending upward and add a note about the major events happening in your life then.  It was eye-opening to see the correlation between some big traumatic events and big weight gains.

For example, when I got my tonsils out (at age 29) I was raped at the hospital.  Whoever was taking me from the operating room to the recovery ward made a stop along the way and pushed the stretcher into the closed for the day pre-op area where you get undressed, meet the anesthesiologist, make the mark on what part they're operating on, and that kind of stuff.  I was in and out of consciousness... the paralytic drugs from surgery were still in effect so I couldn't move and I couldn't scream.  I remember dark eyes and black eyebrows between the green cap and mask.  And that I went home gooey and bruised far from where your tonsils are located.  That's when my hatred and distrust of all things medical-related began...  Almost to the day the following year I had to have a thyroidectomy.  I was so freaked out about being put under anesthesia that I postponed it 7 times.  That very frustrated surgeon kept asking me questions until I told him what bits and flashes I remembered.  He went many extra steps to assure me that I was safe in his hands.  And even then it took a truckload of Valium to get me to the hospital!  Then the cyst he thought he was removing wasn't a cyst at all... there were so many tiny tumors in the gland that it couldn't be saved.  He tried all day. My waking memory is him yelling into my eyeball that it was cancer, but "it's the good kind."

As if there's ever a good kind of cancer.

Between those traumas and the hell that hypothyroidism unleashes in your body, how could my body mass not balloon rapidly?  A few years later, add care of a parent suffering from a slow spiraling descent into dementia...  Then my knees started to go out and people around me didn't believe me when I said I was in pain and made jokes about it.  And there's the past 3-4 years that I'm just not ready to talk about yet.  Each experience was horrific in and of itself. And each used the trauma, fear, and distrust ingrained from previous events as a foundation for a more distorted image of myself.

Now begins the process of undoing that damage, both the physical and the mental...

I'm not sure yet what tools we'll use.  There are a number of surgical procedures that are an option as well as several different kinds of drugs and some heavy-duty lifestyle changes.  Stick with the journey and find out!