Gastric Sleeve Surgery Saved My Life!

IT’S BEEN 7 YEARS TODAY! WOW 😯 

7 years ago I underwent a vertical sleeve gastrectomy, otherwise known as weight loss surgery.

Buckle up! It’s a long one 🤓

It was honestly one of the scariest days of my life to the point that I told my fiancé and Mum that if I died they weren’t allowed to un alive themselves because they HAD to be there for the kids. I was that scared.

 

I’ve battled with my weight since I was about 16. Before that I wouldn’t say I had a healthy relationship with food but it certainly wasn’t awful, I was a UK size 10 at the age of 14, my mum taught me how to eat healthily and to exercise regularly. 
I used to ride horses nearly every day of the week and looking after them is not for the faint of heart, it’s busy and it definitely helped keep me fit. 

However by age 16 I’d been on various antipsychotic medications as an inpatient in psychiatric hospital and the result was weight gain, just a couple of stone.

Over the years I’d lose it, then put it back on. By the time I was 24 and pregnant with my first child I’d put on an extra 6 stone. I was 21stone and so began the fight to regain my health.

Slimming World.

Weight Watchers.

Lighter Life.

Purging.

Laxatives.

Medicine from the Doctor to help ‘bind the excess fat in food’

You get the picture.

I lost weight. I regained.

None of the above is sustainable- well for a lot of us anyway.

 

 

Then it happened.

In 2011 I gave birth to my second child.

We lived in a second floor apartment with no lifts. I’d taken my newborn daughter and 7 year old son to do the food shop with the buggy. It was loaded up high and heavy. 
I began climbing the first set of stairs buggy, newborn daughter, son and shopping.

At the half way point I felt, and heard a crunching sound in my knee. It was so so painful and how I managed to get us all up the stairs I don’t even remember!

After a few days of ice and pain killers it still wasn’t better so I went to the GP’s.

After several tests and appointments, the Doctors thought I had arthritis until I had a scan.

It was discovered that I was actually born with knee caps too small for the joints.

It’d likely never been a problem before because of all my horse riding keeping my muscles strong, but after 5/6 years with no riding I’d lost all the benefits.

I was given codeine and other medication, physio and the like to help me, but it didn’t help because by this point I was in agony every minute of every day, looking after 2 children and quite frankly I was depressed.

 

So I ate my feelings.

I was already too heavy for knee replacements and was told I needed to lose 7 stone in order to qualify.

I couldn’t walk more than 20 meters without being in pain. The school run was excruciating. I couldn’t stand to cook a meal or take a shower. Occupational health gave me equipment to use, like a shower chair, walking stick and chair for sitting to cook dinner.

I became a hermit who only stayed home and did what was needed to look after my children.

So I asked to be put forward for weight loss surgery.

 

 

5 years of constant begging for help.

5 years of being told if I ‘just lost the weight’ every ailment would be fixed!

Five years later, I finally got to meet the ‘Eating team’. 

I had to visit them once sometimes twice a week for therapy, nutritionist classes, physical activity and group sessions.

I followed it all.

The unit was a 45 minute drive away. Driving the car there and back meant my knees would seize up for 2 days afterwards. But I did it.

I was given a new diet to follow and I did. 

I attended the therapy sessions and took every piece of advice.

When they added the gym sessions it became abundantly clear that I COULD NOT function with 90 minutes driving, an hour gym session and then go home and be able to care for my children and home afterwards.

Did they understand my predicament?

Fûck No!

Did they tell me wasn’t trying hard enough- of course they did!

When it came time to decide if I could get the surgery they said No.

The reasons: I made excuses. I wasn’t committed. And I had prior mental illnesses that deemed me a ‘bad candidate’.

By this point I weighed 27 stone.

I couldn’t walk, used a cane and a mobility scooter at the food shop. 

Frankly, I didn’t want to live anymore.

I don’t remember when exactly, but it felt like a week later my Mum discovered her Aunt had left her some inheritance.

I’m sure you can tell what my beautiful Mum did with some of that money?!

Private Hospital here I come!

My Mum (and my Great Aunt Win) saved my life.

Fast forward to October 20th 2016

I’m at the local  hospital being prepped for surgery!

In the first year I lost 7 stone!! The next year I lost 3 more stone! Wow 🤩 

My life flipped!

I still have knee pain, especially in the winter. 
I still don’t qualify for knee surgery…but that’s a story for another time (they changed the criteria)

What I do have though is a LIFE!

I’m the happiest I’ve been in my life, yeah life and shit still happens but my quality of life is so vastly different now, it’s almost unreal!

I am eternally grateful to have a life again.

The simple things like being able to stand and cook a meal is life changing.

I can dance with my kids, ice skate, walk for an hour before it’s too painful, go to gigs and stand up all night! And so many other things that are often taken for granted….

and I am so so thankful

Lizz xoxo