YOU CAN NEVER PLAN THE FUTURE BY THE PAST

YOU CAN NEVER PLAN THE FUTURE BY THE PAST.
- Edmund Burke

He awakes groggily.  "What?  Whoah...  Where am I?  What time is it?"

He rolls over to check on the home-screen of his iPhone.  "August of 2013? WTF!  Do you see the date on my last blog post?  What happenned...?  Wait... how much do I weigh?"

He muddles his way to the bathroom.  He steps on the scale and waits as electrical current is pulsed to the monochrome, active-matrix, liquid-crystal display of horror.

361.3 lbs

He steps off the scale, wiping the sleep from his eyes...  He steps back and scratches his head.  Assuming he must have forced to hard when he stepped up the first time, he again mounts the scale, but this time places each foot as lightly as a butterfly landing on a baby's nose.

361.4 lbs  (apparently the butterfly swallowed a few ounces of something in between weigh-ins)

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo!   M*therf#ckin' sh%t! What happened for crying out loud?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

 "What happened" is that in the 3 years since having lap-band surgery I have put on 33 pounds. Slowly, efficiently and stealthily I consumed 38,500 calories too many per year for 3 years.  And just to add some thrilling plot twists, I spiraled into depression and wrestled with bouts of alcoholism during the black hole that was the past 36 months.  And just to be brutally honest with the universe, in October of 2012 I reached rock-bottom.  In my car, parked on the side of the road midway to wherever I was going, sobbing uncontrollably and thinking about calling it quits. 

 I have always wanted this blog, and anything I write for that matter, to be entertaining and amusing.  However I feel compelled to make this piece as serious as my own probably-assured early death itself.

 If you are thinking of weight-loss surgery, STOP and see a psychologist first.  Not just once, but many times over a prolonged period.  Once you work through the following issues with a professional to guide you, and if at that time you still feel like getting the surgery, proceed.  

 Why? 

 1)  Self-loathing (and the shame that accompanies it) is more responsible for your obesity than anything else.  No surgical intervention can fix this.  In fact, the disappointment of still hating what you are after the surgery will hurt you more than you thought possible.  TRUST ME...

2)  Surgery cannot help you understand why you do what you do, which is to self-medicate.  If you do not understand the habits, triggers and psychological coping mechanisms that you have developed over some 20 or 30 years of self-medication, you will absolutely stay stuck at point #1 above.

If you do not get to the bottom of why you do what you do, SURGERY WILL ONLY BE ONE MORE FAILURE in your long list of attempts to straighten out your health.

It has been a long and painful 3 years, but I am as determined as ever to continue to make the attempts at improving my health in the hopes that I may enjoy my wonderful family for as long as possible.

I owe unquantifiable thanks to my wife for supporting me and never giving up on me.   While I am hardly religious, she is what must be closest to a guardian-angel on this earth.

I have picked myself up off the bottom and have begun moving forward again with my quest for good health.  However I am sober enough to know that I may fail again.  I made 8 attempts at quitting smoking cigarettes before I got it right…

So enough of the dreary stuff - I am back and look forward to writing more funny and motivating stuff about this (ridiculously) long journey I am on.  I mean seriously - on Biggest Loser they lose 100 pounds in what, like 3 episodes? 

PLEASE - If anyone reading this or anyone you know is considering weight-loss surgery and wants to talk about it please don't hesitate to contact me - just drop me an email address in a comment and I'll be in touch.

"But daddy, why isn't your belly getting smaller yet?"

I never actually wanted kids before meeting my wife,  but once I had seen how truly incredible she was, it seemed logical that I should make more of her for the good of civilization.  In fact, we are planning on more clones - hopefully we can add another one or two to the ensemble-cast before long.

My kids were a huge inspiration for going through this challenge, but kids are dangerous, viciously truthful and observant little creatures.  They see things with no filters or lenses.  In fact, they see straight through your soul.   For the first year or two this isn't much of a big deal, but once they learn to talk, it can get ugly in a hurry.

Location, location, location...

As I work at dealing with my emotional and psychological issues as pertains to my relationship with food, I am realizing that I have some real handicaps.  For one, I was born in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. This is like being a cocaine addict growing up in Bogota, Columbia.

Montreal is the the foodaholic equivalent of Rotterdam harbour to an 18th-century sailor - debauchery at every corner and down each alley.  Come to think of it,

The broccoli drowning and other crimes of passion.

They say that love cures all that ails you, but what if love is your disease?

I have had so many interesting (and some not so interesting) conversations with people over the past weeks regarding my ongoing story.  There is one discussion that keeps coming back...coincidentally, usually started by skinny people.  Why do you eat so much?  Why can't you just stop when you are full?  It's easy...just don't eat unless you are hungry...

Ahhh...so simple.  Well, here's a lesson in psychology for you people that I hate but am trying to become. 

Food never says no.
"Hey sweet stuff - feel like a little action?" Chris says to the eggs.
No reply.
"Good...egg yolks meet sugar, sugar meet egg yolks.  I'm going to beat you over a bain-marie and you are going to like it...."

Pain is temporary. Quitting lasts forever. -Lance Armstrong

 I thought the quote was a relevant title as we watch the flame of Lance Armstrong's professional cycling career extinguish itself live on TV during the Tour de France this week.  Here is a man who overcame testicular cancer that had spread to his lungs and brains, only to do the impossible and win the Tour de France 7 times.  For those of you not familiar with the sport of cycling,

PART 2 - Bury me in the stockings please.

I get up from the bed slowly and do my best impression of Bambi on the ice rink...or a new-born giraffe.  Two tiny nurses run over with sheer terror in their eyes and catch me before I fall flat on my face.  They put me in a lazyboy and tell me to wait for a while before trying to get up again.

This time I manage to

PART I - Ready to meet my destiny in thigh-high stockings...

There  I stood, ready to meet my destiny.  Naked save for a pair of white, thigh-high stockings and a hospital jacket.  "Right this way Mr. Sapienza," says my pre-op nurse Toni.   Feeling like a cheap transvestite I make my way to the operating room...

The last night...I gave in.

Food = love, food = nurturing, food = reward, food = consolation, food = company, food = entertainment, food = celebration, food = punishment...   It is a long road to food = sustenance, food = fuel.

My last night before surgery...made it 2 weeks on a liquid diet and decided that tonight I would eat

My name is Chris, and I'm a foodaholic...

It's been 11 days since I last masticated a morsel of anything other than broccoli, cauliflower or lettuce.  Not a drop of wine or beer, not 1 smidgen of bread nor a single penne rigate...

Vincit qui se vincit

He conquers, who conquers himself

I chose this title as it is the perfect description of what I am about to go through.  On July 12th, 2010, a bariatric surgeon will install a device in my body to help me take control of my weight, my health, my well-being and ultimately, my future.  I am resolved to make the next 25 years of my life very different than the last 25 years, but in order to do so I cannot rely on Dr. Garneau's technique alone.  I have some demon chasing and closet cleaning to do,