Politics...Still Wet Behind The Ears

Epiphanies happen to me in the strangest of places. Sometimes I’ll be sitting in bumper to bumper traffic on the 55 or something will turn on the proverbial ‘light bulb’ in my head while listening to idiot (ok, wirelessly challenged) customers at work blather on about how expensive their cell phone bills are.

Recently, while in the shower (some of my best moments happen there), I noticed that one of my metal curtain rings was broken. Anyone who knows me well, knows that I will let that one little broken ring bother me to no end until I fix it. My question is: Have you ever bought one single shower curtain ring? No? I didn’t think so. Neither have I. Is it even possible? When one breaks, you have to buy a whole new set. Granted, they’re only about 5 bucks for a set, but divided by 12, I’d only have to spend 42 cents for just one. Quite frankly, I’d rather pay 42 cents than 5 dollars, especially out here in California where every little penny saved helps. Thank God for Bed, Bath and Beyond’s monthly 20% off mailer and a well-timed sale, I was able to procure a set of my very own for just $3.98.

While installing the new rings, which is always a chore in itself,  I had one of those endless Republican debates on in the background. They’re always the “same shit different day” type of thing with one person pointing a finger at the other while yet another is swearing that someone told them that Puerto Rico is a state. I gladly admit that the Democrats aren’t that much better off.

I stood back and looked at my beautiful, new nickel-plated shower curtain rings and marveled at the fact that somewhere, long ago, two opposing sides came together and solved a horrible predicament…how many holes should there be in a shower curtain and how many rings will constitute a set? Yes my friends, the shower curtain and shower curtain ring industries worked together to put together an unwritten law that both will contain an equal dozen. I’ve searched our world wide web of information for exact dates on when this phenomenal thing happened but it doesn’t seem to be documented anywhere. Sad, really.

How is it that these two industries, I liken to the Democrats and the Republicans, could put aside their differences and make sure that from then on, each store would be shipped curtains with just 12 holes and ring sets that contain exactly 12, as well…but yet, after 236 years, the United States of America still can’t get two politicians to be nice to each other even when they’re on the SAME side? I propose that our opposing political parties seek out those shower industry leaders who changed the world (ok, probably just my world) so many years ago and find out how to work together during this horrible time in our country’s history.

Now, if we could only get the hot dog and hot dog bun industries to do the same. 

Shit For Brains!

Fat is an enemy I’ve been fighting all of my life. I’ve lost 20 pounds and then gained 30 back. I’ve even lost nearly 80 pounds and then gained that plus another 100 back. Food is my dark passenger, the monkey on my back, and worst of all…FOOD IS MY BEST FRIEND.

My highest weight hit 330 pounds back in 2007 or so. When people looked at me, they saw someone who was morbidly obese. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a thin, happy person who’d only get a little peeved when I couldn’t slide into a booth at my favorite local restaurant because my stomach would push up against the table. I wasn’t upset that suddenly my kitchen cabinet was stocked with 2 different pills for diabetes, 1 for high blood pressure, 2 for high cholesterol, 1 for GERD, and I had to be strapped into a Darth Vader mask every night for sleep apnea.  The only person I could be angry with was myself. I’m the only one responsible for eat McDonald’s or pizza or donuts or whatever else I could get my hands on and shove down my throat.

Finally, last summer (July of 2011), I had reached my limit. I was done trying to stay on calorie-restricted diets and fad “cleanses”. I decided I would have gastric bypass surgery. I can’t even recall how many tests (both physically and psychologically) you have to get through before the surgeon even considers you. Thankfully, (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it.) I qualified for the surgery with my insurance company because I had so many co-morbidities. While the physical tests were thorough and covered everything from my eyes to my asshole, the psychological test was a brief, ten minute conversation with a licensed therapist. “Yes, you seem normal in your head. You’re cleared.” Me? Normal? Never!

I had my surgery on July 7^th and have lost over 100 pounds. My skin now sags everywhere that gravity can snatch it. I don’t mind that too much as I almost immediately (I’m talking just 1 day) was pulled off all of my meds. I suddenly didn’t have diabetes, high blood pressure, acid reflux, etc. Physically, I’ve never felt better.

My brain has given me a bit of fight, though. I still saw Mr. Fatty Pants when I looked in the mirror. I tripped out that every other week I had to buy a new pair of shorts because my belly and my ass took a flying leap. People started complementing me by telling me how handsome or even “sexy” I looked now. I’ve never lived as a thin adult and I had no knowledge of how to respond to compliments or stunned gasps. My brain still saw and felt like a 300+ pound sloth and I self-medicated with Xanax and Trazadone to drown out those feelings. I no longer had to order from the “Big Man’s” catalog or shop at Casual Male. I could finally walk into a regular store and pull a size 34 pants off the rack. I haven’t been a 34 waist since elementary school. Honestly.

It’s an ongoing process. I still do or feel things that I’ve never had the pleasure to before. I’m not scared of getting on a ride at Disneyland for fear I won’t fit. I don’t worry about overeating, because my stomach won’t let me. I don’t have to worry about buying the largest size available at Target or Macy’s. I’m just like any other 43 year-old man walking down the street. Except now, I’m severing my co-dependent relationship with food. After going through a romantic break-up and job stress last fall, I wanted to shove Big Macs and large pizzas into my face, but I couldn’t. My best friend was gone. I didn’t realize that there truly is a grieving period when you lose your ability to eat certain foods. Goodbye Baby Ruth and your cousin Mr. Butterfingers. So long to high calorie sodas and the one glass of alcohol I might have had every few months. Adios my dear friends, don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.

So many people ask if I would do it over again or if I regret it. No, I don’t regret and would do it again in a heartbeat! Hindsight is always 20/20, but if I had known, I would have been better prepared for the heartbreak of losing such a dear, lifelong companion. Making new friends as an adult is never easy. However, I’m determined to find them and become emotionally attached to something I won’t eat (insert dirty joke here). For those planning on having gastric bypass or lap band surgery, know that the surgeon will take care of your body and walk you through nutrition and physical needs that you may have. Please, let him/her worry about that. YOU take care of your brain. Have patience with yourself and don’t beat your head against the wall when you eat too much sugar and you end up getting the runs. Don’t be angry with yourself because you didn’t chew enough and now you feel like your tuna sandwich is stuck in your chest. Allow yourself to mourn the loss and be gentle with your brain and emotions. You’ll need it to balance your checkbook after buying all of those new, sexy clothes.