So, some of you here kinda know my story. You know that I lost weight in a contest. For money. My goal with the money (700 buckaroonies) was that I was going to go to Vegas and buffet hop…

It was going to be glorious. However, that didn’t work out and I decided to keep going with my weight loss. However, there is more to the story than that….

I actually wanted to have a gastric bypass. I was desperate to lose weight. My life was spiraling out of control and I was so scared I would end up 50, fat and incapacitated.

I did some of the gastric bypass seminars and was trying to get fast-tracked through my insurance for a gastric bypass. I actually was going to be enrolled in classes that you had to have in order to start the process of a gastric bypass.

I went to my physician at the time, and he was not only supportive, he was excited. His sister had gone through the gastric bypass procedure and he said it changed her life.

Unfortunately, I didn’t feel so hopeful….

I had seen clients die of the gastric bypass. I had also seen great stories of success. I was torn as to whether to do it or not. Once I spoke with my doctor, that answer was crystal clear…

This is a recreation of my convo with my physician, although I have some memory issues, so its probably inaccurate as hell.

Doctor: You will be a perfect candidate for weight loss surgery! You have no co-morbidities and you will do very well post op.

Me: Great. (crying inside because I was thinking of all the cake I could no longer eat once I had the surgery.)

Doctor: My sister had the surgery and did remarkably well. It changed her outlook on life and she is happier than I have ever seen her!

Me: Great. (still thinking of all the cake I can no longer eat and how I would be forced to eat smaller portions of everything.)

Doctor: I will talk to your insurance when the time comes and we will get you all set for getting that going! Congratulations.

Me: Thanks. (I am going into my car and turn it on, get carbon monoxide poisoning so I don’t have to struggle with this anymore. After that, I am going to eat my damn cake in heaven…)

Doctor: Are you excited?

Me: Uh huh. (Can I run out of this office, flag down a baker so that I can hitch a ride out of here.

on my cake high? Stop asking me questions!!! Argh!)

Doctor: Well, your life will change with this.

Me: Yup. (Yeah, and not in a good way….I need to run out into traffic right now…)

This was actually what I was thinking the whole time I was conversing with him. No, really.

If you know me, you know this is actually how I think. Its sick, but whatever. I was so freaking ready to get out of the office and didn’t really know what to do.

I went home and cried my face off—and not the cute cry of a pretty woman—no, it was the ugly, snotty, splotchy-faced, heaving cry of someone that has lost her last chance.

I really felt that I lost it. It was gone. Stepped on, ground into a fine powder. I was so despondent that I called in sick to work the next day, st