Skin removal surgery

Last March, just before the April decision to join Weight Watchers a thought popped into my head. This thought was yet another wake up call and factor to begin this weight loss journey. By last March my eating was out of control. Eating junk all day, using it to fill up just any moment that seemed too hard to deal with. The kids are fighting? Eat a cookie. Working late? Grab a big bowl of chips and pretzels (refill it after eating the first bowl). Those are just two examples of what was going on. I, like SO many others had turned to junk food to try and pacify the moment. The results is I was gaining weight and fast. I have been heavy for quite some time now, but had held the weight in a certain range and maintained a certain size. I was happy with that because at least I wasn't getting any bigger. Alas, 2010 and into the first quarter of 2011 that comfortable range tipped the scale by 20 pounds.

This is when the thought hit me. How much weight am I going to gain before it's so much, that if I EVER do loose it, I'll need skin removal surgery? Seriously. I could never afford that or would even know a doctor that I would trust AND if I was ever to get plastic surgery I would not want to waste it on something self-inflicted. Plastic surgery would be saved for something else... hmmm. You know I would never get any plastic surgery, it's like getting a tattoo. Neither one of those would I ever be able to decide on what and where. It's like a party game... "If I were to have plastic surgery, I would get this done." "If I ever got a tattoo, it would be of a fill in the blank and I would put it here, blanketed blank."

Anyway, I'm getting way off track here. Skin removal. It's a scary thought. Mind you, I'm not judging other morbidly obese people here. I'm just talking about my own emotions. I was tipping the scale towards the super danger fat zone and it was scary. I can see how easy it is for people to just keep going, not stop until it's too late. Once you're that big, why bother loosing weight if you're gonna have all this skin hanging? Is that worse than the fat? No, it can't be. Let the skin hang as battle scars, because at least you are alive! ALIVE!

The area in specific that I was worried about that would need skin removal was my stomach. Wait, wait. Let me correct that sentence. It's my double stomach. After having two kids, I seemed to have formed a fat pouch under my top stomach and it's decorated with life tattoo's called, "Stretchmarks." I remember my first stretchmark while I was pregnant with my daughter. It came on Christmas morning. What a present. I thought well, one mark isn't so bad. Ugh. I'm banded across my stomach like an armadillo. To make matters worse, this wonderful stretched out skin is easily and quickly filled with fat and looks like a pouch with a kangaroo in it. Gross I tell you, gross. Out of all parts of my body the fat pouch with zebra stripes has been the area I was afraid would need skin removal surgery.

Today I feel that there's some hope that surgery will not be necessary. My stomach is deflating with 28 pounds off of my frame and the pouch has reduced in size. The skin is looking reasonably well and I do have hope that move weight loss (and exercise) will do the trick. Whew! I feel like I dodged a bullet on that one.

So today the journey of Phase 2 continues. Feeling hopeful that I haven't completely destroyed my body and am moving forward towards my goal of being more healthy, more fit and finding a balance in my life where I don't ever let food control me again like it has in the past. No fat pouch ever again.