What A Difference A Year Makes

Twelve months ago today I had my gastric bypass at St George's Hospital in Tooting.

Regular readers will know the whole story, for the new readers, here's a very brief summary.

A lifetime of diets, all of which were successful, sadly a shitty relationship with food meant that as brilliant as I was at losing weight, I was dreadful at keeping it off. Three years ago I'd had enough. I was watching my weight spiral back up again after my most recent diet where I'd lost 10 stones and within two years had regained 8 of them. I went to my doctor and told her I was surrendering. I couldn't do it alone. I wanted my stomach removing! That's me, ever the drama queen! Of course they don't take away the whole stomach, just about 2/3rds of it. 

Two years of waiting and jumping through various NHS hoops later I found myself on 5th February 2007 in a cab down to Tooting at 6am. I remember standing outside the hospital in the darkness smoking the last fag, going in and being shunted from pillar to post, as more blood was taken, I was weighed and some orderly went on and on about how my legs were so big that he was having trouble finding those pressure stockings in a big enough size. As if I wasn't feeling shitty enough!

More abuse followed when some witch outside the operating theatre accused me of holding up proceedings. I snapped at that point! I'd gone three hours at that stage without a fag, and I was terrified about what was going to be happening to me (I'd just been given the 'you could die on the table' talk). She was suitably embarrassed and actually apologised in front of the surgeon who I caught smiling at me.

This exact time a year ago I was probably asleep, I was mainlining morphine into my neck, which was bliss! But a couple of hours earlier my good friend Steve had been to see me and sorted out a few things with the staff for me, bless him.

The three and a half days I spent in the hospital were pretty unpleasant, tho I have to say the actual nurses were amazingly kind and efficient, it was the auxiliary staff who were the little Hitlers. I was bloody relieved to get out on the Thursday lunchtime believe me!

The difference to my appetite was immediate, as was the weight loss, and 52 weeks later, I have shed the grand total of 9 stones and 12 pounds (138lbs). It woulda been just over 10 stones but thanks to replacing nicotine with snacks last week I just missed the 10stones mark, but I have lost a whole pound in the last two days, so will his the 10 stones by the end of the week.

It's three weeks ago tonight since I gave up smoking, and while I fully appreciate that it's a wonderful thing to do for my health, that wasn't my reason for quitting. Nope it was vanity. In five weeks' time I begin to reconstruct my new body with the first lot of plastic surgery. As it includes a face-lift I was told that I couldn't be a smoker and get it cos it would stop the healing.

Jan Stanek who is doing all the surgery was adamant, to the point where they do a blood test two weeks before the op and if there's nicotine in your blood the surgery is cancelled! For once in my life I didn't wanna be on the deadline, so gave up early. Sitting in a restaurant today, having lunch with my good friends Sarah, Jason and Mickey, and not craving a fag was the most wonderful feeling! I am so glad I did it!

So there ya go folks, nearly 10 stone lighter, actually physically half the woman I was, size 6-8 compared with size 26-28 and happier, healthier and fitter than I ever thought possible. What a brilliant year its been, and things are only gonna get better in the years to come.