Historias

The feeling of weakness in the legs as I leave my bed disorientated for my weekly weigh in that had moved from the school setting to home, I remember the feeling of trepidation willing the red dial on the Salter bathroom scales had reached the anticipated notch below seven stone mark. Clammy, feeling nauseous, the chicken pox scabs brushing against my wash worn Beatrix Potter nylon nightie, accomplished I had reached six stone ten pounds. Being considerable unwell with a bout of the Pox did not give me any respite to escape the uncomfortable feeling of shame - I was eight years old. The weekly weigh in’s ritual in Mrs Ions office, seeking the much needed approval of the middle school head teacher, my mother that I was going to like the rest of the other school children to blend in and to be liked. I remember the praying inside that I was not going to be scolded for not losing weight. A vivid memory etched on the mind, was the overwhelming feeling of wanting to be able to climb the PE apparatus, without the blushes of not being able to reach the top of the wooden frame. I would have done anything to avoid the class sniggering at me. This was the earliest memories of living with obesity. My journey with the disease like most who are living with the condition has been a monumental journey to feel well but ultimately to feel accepted in this world. I have spent almost two thirds of my adult life significantly overweight. Food has been my enemy, the constant noise, the daily grind of dilemmas of trying to determine what I can eat that will not have the profound effect on whether my school, PE kit and moving to the later years work skirts & trousers will not feel tight. The buttons or zips being placed on the last hole or openings willing that they will fit without buckling under the pressure of the midriff. The disease has dominated every thought and feeling of my being. Entering into the adolescence years where my peers could wear the clothes that were in trend, experiencing their first boyfriend, I was a ball of angst battling with shame and self-loathing, hiding away feeling worthless with the overwhelming notion that I could not find my place and not knowing how to find it. From the latter part of my teen years to the late twenties I had accomplished a reasonable and stable weight, the early twenties actually slightly underweight. I had finally felt in this brief period of my life control and acceptance. I had made the move from the Midlands to London to seek the career as an accomplished Assistant. I had also met my now husband, life should be good although the daily food noise still very much prevalent, invading the thoughts and reminding me of who I really was. This significant time of change and what should have been an invigorating time of my life, making a home, building a career, the constant worry of the condition continued to dominate the thoughts of when my fatness will return. In spite of shedding the skin physically, mentally I was unable to feel the same with both not operating in sync with each other. My wedding in 2003 should have been a time of excitement, however trying to find a gown that could compliment, shield the growing girth was a huge challenge as the weight gain started to re-appear with momentum. As I reflect, the day was beautiful, my late father reaching the pinnacle of what every father wants for his daughter is to walk them down an isle knowing his job is done, handing over to another. I did not feel beautiful. I remember the fear of what the wedding congregation could be thinking, ahh, she has tried to look her best. Apart from the nearest and dearest I felt I did not receive the obligatory comments that every bride seeks – you look stunning and beautiful. Perception is not always the reality, illustrating the constant feeling of seeking approval and acceptance. Our daughter arrived December 2004, my greatest achievement. Her arrival did not come without months of complications. The pregnancy was onerous, unable to sleep with anxiety that my obesity will have a long lasting effect on me and my unborn child. I was considerably unwell, the weight gain was in full force, losing mobility in the latter stages of third trimester with pre-eclampsia taking centre stage of what should have been the most exciting time extending our family. She arrived by emergency C-Section as the conventional process of giving birth was not an option which obesity played it’s part. Needless to say we did not try for another. I was acutely aware that the disease was here to stay post my daughter’s arrival. Notwithstanding at conception the extra four stone of body weight I was carrying, I gained a further seven stone at full term gestation. At my six week check up with my GP postpartum, I was strongly advised that I needed to lose weight if there was an appetite to continue to extend the family. The journey of the next twenty years would be the worst doing everything in my power to regain normality, having no real clarity of what this could look or feel like. The complications of obesity was here, insomnia, upper airway resistance syndrome a condition that mimics sleep apnoea , hypertension, anxiety and living fear of possibly being diagnosed as a diabetic was at the forefront of every waking moment. The armour of weight, the feeling of an extra person on my back was consuming - a daily reminder that this condition was not going away, I needed help. A metabolic consultation in early 2010 reinforced just how serious my obesity problem had become. After significant blood tests in the hope to identify that something else was at play, overeating and genomics was concluded as to why I was fat. I needed to determine a way forward on how this ingrained problem could be remedied. The suggested solution was bariatric surgery and that I was an ideal candidate with the consultant making a strong recommendation to my GP. I presented the ask, if there was a workaround. In short yes a conventional diet, exercise combining with the weight loss medication of Orlistat . However, I remember the consultant saying that this would short term fix to the problem and that I would be back revisiting the issue with him or another consultant seeking other options to combat of my fatness. He strongly advised that surgery was the only solution and I needed to give it some serious consideration. I negotiated mentally that surgery was not an option at this time and I would pull every ounce of resilience in the tank to diet, exercise and use the prescriptive weight loss management medication. The uphill struggle over the next twelve years took its toll on me professionally and personally. Whilst the orlistat weight management drug had confirmed that I did indeed manage to shift eight stone of the body weight collaborating with rigorous diet and exercise regime – the regain after the removal of the drug returned back with a vengeance. My late father made an early exit from this world on the 15th January 2019. As I lay sprawled across this torso listening to his fading heart beating in ICU, exhaling his last breath, the calling of his time of death was a pivotal moment . I had finally acknowledged I had to find a long term solution to my obesity problem. Before my father entered into the final hours of end of life, he made me promise him that I would get myself sorted. As I am aware being parent myself you will do anything for your children. He wanted me to find a solution to be happy and content, he didn’t’ want me to replicate on what his life had become. His words will never leave me – he died of all the complications associated with Type 2 Diabetes. The ripple effects of Covid still prevalent as I leave my husband and daughter at the foot of hospital door, the morning of the 5th January 2022 I took a giant leap of faith by putting my life literally into a consultant hands, thank you Mr Somers that you did not make me feel that I was fat because of choice. I had weight loss surgery. At pre-assessment the day before surgery I tipped the scales at 149kg’s, pre LRD 155kgs. Living in fear of doing nothing was now not an option. I had to follow through, commit to taking ownership to make myself well owing this in addition to my family and to the NHS. I have spent the last three years adjusting to my new life. The words of Mr Somers leaning forward to me as I’m slightly hunched over from the laparoscopic puncture wounds in the hospital chair ‘ If you follow this process, it will change your life’ I can confirm this long journey that I have endured has not only changed my life it has saved it. As I bring my story to the here and now, my previous life less lived and now in the land of living, reaching a stable weight of 62kgs - I am shadow of my former self. I have finally found comfort realising that food is my friend not my foe. In truth, I still finding the feet adjusting as to what is looking back to me. Whilst aesthetically I am now a slim person, I am very much aware I am a person that will be always living with obesity. The tool that I use every day sympathetically, the promise I made to late father, to myself and those who are close to me I need to align healthy food choices and exercise to keep the fatness at bay. As a re-appraise to what was to the now, I feel thankful, that I finally blend in not seeking acceptance from others, I accept who I am now. I am starting to feel comfortable in new body that I have created it’s not perfect but I have finally given permission to be kind to myself. I am worthy of what lies ahead of me, the continued career within health which has been instrumental in my journey, being able to hopefully see my daughter accomplish her hopes and dreams. My long suffering husband which has been right by side through the thick and thin as we enter the a period of lives of the unknown of what is coming next, creating the next chapter which I will embrace.