Originally published March 1, 2009

Get on with it already.

October/November of last year was when I reallllly started digging in to the whole bariatric surgery stuff. First part of November I had made up my mind. It was something I wanted… needed to do. Did more reading, started getting hooked up with a surgeon, started jumping through all sorts of hoops. I went to my first meeting expecting that I would be under the knife before Christmas.

Then a wall was sort of put up.

Insurance requires six months of medically supervised weight loss as a pre-qualification. I would have been fine, but since I was only visiting my doctor every other month or so, the surgeon didn’t think they’d take that and tacked another three months on to the time-table.

So I slowed things up a bit. Met with the dietician just before Thanksgiving and started changing a lot of things. For example, by the time you read this I’ll have not had a sip of pop in four months. I rarely drink anything with meals any more. Even though that is not a medical requirement yet… it’s a habit I needed to form. And yea, I’m making much better choices in general when eating.

So fast-forward to early February. I’ve made it through all the hoops (not including the six-months thing) and just have my final evaluation with the Psychologist… he says I’m good to go and to give him a week or two to get the paperwork to my surgeon.

Kewl.

So on the 13th day I’m feeling a bit antsy and call the surgeon’s office. No paperwork yet. So I shoot an email to the psychologist… couple days go by… nothing. Leave a phone message. Nothing. Call the surgeon’s office again, anything they can do? No, course not. They have me in a holding pattern till they get his paperwork, and that’s that. Call his office again… nothing. Call again the next day and leave another message. We’re at three weeks and two days… and I get an email. He apologizes and should have it in the next couple days (well, either last Friday or tomorrow/Monday).

Ok… which I’m hoping by… Wednesday…? I hear from the nurse for what I expect to be the sign-off and hopefully even scheduling of my surgery.

I was really hoping for early March… now I’ll settle for by the end of March. I want to be to the point where I am up and running (well, probably walking) and biking and paintballing by early May. I want to be have an active spring and summer. I want to take my niece and nephew to the park. I want to take my other nieces to the park. I want to go out camping and hike for miles and miles.

I want to do stuff this year.

I’m already feeling the difference from what I lost. I’m nearly to the weight I was four or so years ago, and even that is a good thing. But now I know it’s not good enough.

So yea… I am friggen’ ready for this.

Well.. yea.

I was always a big guy. Probably 250+ since high school. 350+ for the last few years… with a high of almost 380 last year. For a majority of the last 10 year’s I’ve been in the 320-340 range, and despite that I was … pretty active. Walking 3, 5 or more miles in a shot was no big deal. Playing paintball all day was my idea of a good time.

But that last 20-40 pounds (probably along with my age) really did a number on me. I wasn’t walking cause it was to the point it would hurt my back. I wasn’t camping cause sleeping on the ground wasn’t worth the hassle of getting up again. I wasn’t playing paintball cause just walking out on the field was wiping me out.

But now… 4 months post-op, I’m down 85 pounds. Toss in there the 55 I lost pre-op… and I’m feeling better than I have in decades. I’ve played more paintball in the last 5 months that I did in the last couple years. And despite taking those head shots you see in that picture up there, I’m loving it!

I was able to really move around the field better even before I had the surgery. Barely 4 weeks post-op I was out for an all day event.. and while I took frequent breaks I was out there moving like I hadn’t in years.  At less than two-months post-op I was out playing for 7 straight hours… in the rain… with just a couple of short breaks for getting more paint and lunch… and loving it. I was on the field almost three hours that day before I finally went and took my first break.

Don’t get me wrong… I’m not out there playing speed-ball. But I am out there moving… up and down hills, through woods, almost non-stop. And yea, I do feel it in the muscles the next day, it’s nowhere near like what it was… and that was from doing not even half of what I do now.

So yea… despite all the guts being rearranged, despite the head shots, the welts, the poison ivy, I can look back on these last four months and have absolutely no regrets.

And that feels good.

Well fine, no, the head shots didn’t feel so good… but bruises fade, memories last forever.