Welcome Back Francisco!

[Guest guest]

It's great to have you back, Amigo, but wood ys quit telling MY

story?! I didn't know our surgeries were so close. My rebirthday

was 07/30/03. I guess I've been following in your footsteps ever

since. (Including reconstructive surgery and the indescribable

experience of discovering someone with whom " this " has

become " THIS! " (YOU probably already know, but let her publicize

it, please.) As you know so well, this journey changes us in ways

we can't even imagine, and losing the weight is just the beginning!

The sentiment on my card says it all for me, " Half the weight, twice

the person. " I am eternally grateful. Glad to have you back!

Uncle Timmy -240

> Hey beautiful people!

>

> I'm back! There has been so much that I've been going through,

but

> now things seem to be calming down a bit.

>

> And it's time to get back into the swing of things as an active

> member of this group. After all, I am a moderator of the group

> (thanks, Shell).

>

> Hello to all new members. I wish you the best on your journey.

> You're so lucky to have found this wonderful group of caring souls.

>

> Please allow me to introduce myself and update you long-timers on

> where I am on my journey. I'm Francisco. I am 41 (soon to be 42

on

> July 4th), and I had open RNY gastric bypass surgery on June 3,

> 2003. I have lost a total of 153 lbs, and I have been at my goal

> weight for 8 months. I have had two reconstructive surgeries:

> abdominoplasty and gynecomastia, which I paid for out of pocket

> ($14,000.00).

>

> Everything in my life has changed—my mind, body and spirit. I

once

> lived a half-life of unrealized dreams. I was a prisoner in my

own

> body, and I was desperate to find a way out. Thank God I learned

> that Kaiser covered gastric bypass surgery. My transformation has

> not been easy. Yes, my physical recovery was relatively smooth,

but

> the emotional arena has been where the real work needed and still

> needs to be done.

>

> As the layers of fat melted off, I felt exposed as never before,

and

> my old buddy, lover, friend, soul mate—food—was no longer there to

> comfort me. I had to find new ways of believing in myself, of

> talking to myself, of caring for myself.

>

> I had to find new ways to experience joy, and I had to realize

that

> all the sorrow and regret of so many years of morbid obesity had

to

> be dealt with, without food. And the emotional pain didn't

suddenly

> go away because my surgeon rearranged my intestinal tract. I had

to

> believe that I could cry it out, feel the pain, and that I'd still

be

> OK. I also had to find new non-food-related interests that would

> bring me joy. I had to begin to look for sources of inspiration.

I

> needed to find and take in every spark of happiness and beauty

that I

> could. I needed to learn that I didn't have to take in every

ounce

> of sorrow or make others' troubles my own.

>

> The physical transformation was rather quick, and I made sure that

> the emotional and spiritual changes didn't lag behind. With the

> weight loss, I experienced a great deal of personal loss: some

old

> friends (all morbidly obese) abandoned me, and I, in turn, cut

them

> out of my life. I was so wounded by their betrayal, but I could

no

> longer tolerate that kind of poison in my recovery process. Then

> came the hardest part of my journey: my eleven-year long-term

> relationship—my whole world of safety—came to an end. Zach, my

> former partner, was just not on the same page with me anymore. He

> didn't know me anymore. He said, " The old Francisco I knew and

loved

> is gone. It's like he died. I miss him. " The split, while

> amicable, has caused me the greatest pain in this process so far.

I

> will always care for him because of the good person he is, but I

> cannot share my life with someone who doesn't know me and does not

> share my dreams.

>

> Ironically, as my transformation caused Zach to not recognize who

I

> was, I was growing to feel more and more like my true self. I

began

> to feel hope and joy like never before. People treated me

> differently. Men (and some women) expressed interest in me

> sexually. That was scary and exciting all at once. I could have

let

> myself become bitter with the resentment that these people would

> never have found me attractive 153 pounds ago, but the truth is, I

> didn't either, but not for physical reasons, but emotional ones.

>

> People have commented to me that I'm radiant. And it's true, not

> because of what's outside, but what's on the inside. My body

feels

> wonderful like never before. I feed it and nourish it like it has

> deserved for so many years. I joined the National AIDS Marathon

> training program, and I run with 20- and 30-somethings. As we

start

> each run, a smile comes naturally to me as I feel the joy of

flight.

> My spirit is soaring as I run through the most beautiful areas of

San

> Francisco. As we run along the beach, I hear the wind whistling

in

> my ears, the ocean mist kissing my face, the colors of wild

flowers

> dazzling my eyes, the laughter of my pace group warming my heart.

>

> There is so much beauty and joy that sometimes I find it

> overwhelming. How can this be happening to me? Why did God

finally

> hear my secret cries and take away my pain? Why has the isolation

> and imprisonment been turned into a mind that expresses love to

> itself, a heart that sings, a body that dances and a spirit that

> soars? Sometimes it feels like there has been a beam of light

that

> has come down from heaven, and it illuminates me. I think that's

why

> people have said that I'm radiant. It's because I'm healthy, I

smile

> all the time, I feel good and I no longer wear a suit of armor

made

> of fat. I no longer wear my pain because I no longer eat my

pain.

> The radiance they see is freedom.

>

> The pain is still there. I experience pain like everyone else.

When

> I finally cried about the break up with Zach, each tear

represented

> searing pain like a knife tearing my heart to pieces. I felt so

much

> guilt about leaving the relationship. Then one of our kitties

died.

> Then Zach lost his job.

>

> There is nothing I can do about that except pray and turn it over

to

> God. I can only control what goes into my mouth, whether or not I

> will exercise, and how I will talk to myself. As a friend said to

> me, " You are not responsible for Zach's happiness; you are

> responsible for YOUR happiness. You are responsible for taking

care

> of YOU. "

>

> Upon Dr. Gity's advice, I had reached out to build a new circle of

> friends, to experience life as a normal-weighted person. She told

us

> that we need to be part of a group in which you are not a WLS

> patient; you are just who you are. I am so much more that

a " gastric

> bypass poster child. " I joined a gay/lesbian square dance

group.

> I became a member of a church in San Francisco. I attended

support

> groups (online and in-person). And in my time of need, people

> stepped forward to offer me a shoulder to cry on. The investment

of

> time and emotion into new, healthy friendships rendered the

dividends

> that I had hoped for—support, community, acceptance and love.

>

> Then came the icing on the cake (pardon that metaphor). After a

> period of dating like a mad man, I had gone on a break from the

mind

> games of men and dating. I went on a church retreat looking for

rest

> and spiritual renewal. The first evening, I decided to take a

nature

> walk by myself. , a tall and handsome man of my church,

asked

> if he could join me. I said, " Sure. "

>

> and I had known each other since October of 2004, maybe a

> little before. Interestingly, and I became members of the

> church on the same Sunday. We actually stood next to each other

> while we took our vows. It was October 17, 2004. I had reached

my

> goal weight on October 16, 2004, one day before.

>

> On the nature walk, and I made a connection that surprised

us

> both. We began talking about recovery, me from morbid obesity,

him

> from alcoholism. We both spoke the language of recovery. He

> understood me in ways that others do not. While the substance may

be

> different, the basics of our programs remain the same.

>

> By the end of the nature walk, we had hugged. Soon thereafter we

> were holding hands. Later in the evening we shared our first

kiss.

> By Sunday night, we had talked and shared so much that we decided

it

> was right for us to date exclusively—we became boyfriends. We've

> shared so much since then. I had dinner with and his Mom,

> and we really hit it off. She now refers to me a son #5 (she has

> four sons). made dinner for my Mom, Dad and brother, and

> they got along great.

>

> And so here I am, two years after my gastric bypass with a life I

> never imagined. I have been blessed beyond measure, but not by

> possessions, but with love. And it started when I began to

believe

> that this miracle would happen. I had no idea I was capable of

such

> courage, such strength, such fortitude. I had no idea that there

> would be so much pain, so much loss. And I couldn't have imagined

> that there would be so much love—no only from others, but from

myself.

>

> Finally, the deep, gnawing hunger in my heart has begun to be

> satisfied. I now know that food can never feed my soul. It was

my

> soul that was hungry for love, and I denied myself that love for

way

> too many years. Sure, I had the love of friends and family, but

it

> wasn't enough to take away the self-hatred that kept me fat and

> unhealthy in mind, body and spirit. At long last I have given

myself

> that gift, the gift of loving myself for who I am, the way God

made

> me, just as I am, perfectly flawed, imperfectly flawless,

deserving

> of love for no other reason than this: I exist, and as such, I

> deserve to be loved by others, but most importantly, I deserve the

> self-love and self-esteem that can only come from within. At long

> last, I finally love me.

>

> Thanks for reading.

>

> Francisco

> At goal

> www.aidsmarathon.com

> runner 0024