A Heavy Situation
Age Rating: 10 +
When I was 19 years old, and even before that time, I wanted to lose weight desperately. I wanted fat-burning products, a gym membership, anything to start losing weight. I was 250 pounds then... and I felt ashamed. My mother would sigh "We need to lose weight..." and when I sighed back "I know..." she would say that I was fine as I was. I was not satisfied with how I was.
I wanted to feel normal. I wanted to feel good about who I was. And most of all, I wanted to drop in pants size from a 46 to at least a 38 and from an XXL shirt to a L. Until that joyous day came, all I could do was fantasize. As I well knew, fantasizing would yield nothing, but I had virtually no impetus to change my lifestyle.
My lifestyle was that of a loner with almost no social life. I would come home from school, snack frequently, eat heavy meals, and either study or play video games until time to sleep. As one could imagine, this lifestyle involved almost no form of exercise. Something HAD to change... but as before, there was no real impetus beyond seemingly unattainable fantasies of grandeur and freedom. In September of 2005, things would change drastically.
The night of September 28th, I got home after my mother took me to McDonald's to get a meal. I got a double cheeseburger with a large order of fries and a large chocolate milkshake, as was my habit. After eating it at home, I was studying for a Music Appreciation test when I felt the urge to vomit. I got up and walked to the bathroom and vomited, certain that it was the end of my discomfort. Little did I know of what was to come!
Within a few minutes I had to vomit again. I did and thought that this time it was over. After that I had to use the bathroom again, this time having to contend with diarrhea. I did what was needed and thought things finally finished, but a few minutes afterward the urge came again. I did the required task again, but as I sat there I had to go again and again!
To make that part of the story short, I vomited and had diarrhea until I felt so physically weak that my mother had to hold my head up to vomit in a wastebasket. Around 12:30 or 1:00 a.m. I finally stopped expelling long enough to have my parents drive me to the hospital. At that point, I was so weak I could not walk and had to be rolled into the admissions room in a wheelchair. In the admissions room, one of the personnel handed me a vomit bag, which I put to use within three minutes of receiving it. After what seemed like an eternity, I was rolled by a couple of nurses at the desk, who remarked on how pale I was.
By the time a physician came to examine me, my mental processes extended to trying to think straight and wishing that the dry heaves would stop. He asked me to stand on some scales to be weighed, and it was an effort to comply. After he finished, he announced that I weighed 225 pounds! My parents were surprised, as was I. Most of it was water weight, but I felt good nonetheless.
Saturday, September 30th saw the dawn of a new era. After at least forty times of vomiting and countless instances of diarrhea over two days, I emerged from the hospital feeling physically weak but mentally better. Recovery would be a slow process consisting of liquids and soft food, but I was ready to get back to my life. However, I had a feeling that something had changed, and changed for good purposes. For example, when I finally could eat solid food again, it took a lot less to make me feel full: a single hamburger and medium order of fries from MacDonald's was all I could stand to eat when only a few days earlier that would have been a snack.
A few weeks afterwards my mother bought a bathroom scale. Out of curiosity I decided to weigh myself, and when it finished weighing I could not believe my eyes: I weighed 200 pounds! Come December I weighed 195 pounds. As my weight dropped, my self-image improved dramatically and my confidence in social settings rose accordingly. The weight dropped so rapidly that my parents told me not to "starve myself" for the sake of weight loss. As strange as that sounds, that made me feel good about myself: I was finally achieving my long-sought goal!
When high school friends saw me for the first time in months (some of them met with me infrequently), they had trouble recognizing me. To my great amusement, the facial expressions of some of my friends gave the impression that I came back from the dead. In a manner of speaking, I had returned from the dead: I had transformed from a recluse who felt little self-esteem to a burgeoning social butterfly. By February 2006 my clothing size had dropped from a 46 pants size to a 40 and from XXL in shirts to an XL. My old clothing literally hung off of my body and my shirts were much too big for me to wear: this was another tangible sign of progress!
To list achievements from February 2006 to the present would be rather repetitive, but I will give you a short version. As of November 2nd, 2007, I wear a size 36 pants and a medium shirt. My current weight is around 190 pounds, up from the record low of 174 pounds. I walk and ride my bicycle to class regularly and I take an Ultimate Frisbee class in P.E. Since losing so much weight, my mother has been giving away my too-large clothing: I hope that I never have need of them again!
I have reached a point I never expected to reach. I have a fairly active social life in college and engage in regular physical activity. My weight is manageable and my endurance is such that I can play a full game of Ultimate Frisbee without having to call in a substitute. Once I was slow: now I am so fast that sometimes I have trouble stopping my run and I fall to the ground! In the end, it is all worth it because I feel dignity that I have had all along and self-confidence I never knew I had: in short, I have exceeded my expectations.
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Sincerity of the tone and clarity of the thought is quite evident in your story. I feel that ups and downs are the parts of life but to come out as a winner, not with awards and degrees, with a smile and prideful satisfaction is the most important thing.
Your writing, and especially the way the narrator narrates the experiences, show a definite potential which is bound to flourish into a wonderful and memorable writer.
God bless you
I'm rating this a four because:
1) whether it's a true story or fiction, you're still telling the story of what happened.
2) it's an encouraging story, one that we can all learn from
3) it's well told
For those reasons alone, I would give it a five, BUT, what happened to you? What was it that was causing you to vomit???
This was a good story, but I just felt an important element was left out.
Good job though!
Congratulations! I am glad you were able to change your life in a positive way. You know what they say: "No pain, no gain!"
Its hard to change bad habits and often times it takes an act of god or a life and death situation to do it. Hopefully others don't have to go through what you did.
Nice! How you formed your troubles and concluded your story in words...it's simply catching. I'm glad that you were able to lose so much weight, no doubt that the body knows what's good for you than you yourself!
Anyway, puking for a very long time...geeze, that really sucks.
^-^ It's a very good thing how you managed to take control of your health! As for meeeeee, I'm still a scrawny, anemic, perpetually dehydrated twig. I'm not as much of an energy-generator as I used to be, but I'm still burning everything I eat by mainly talking and thinking too much.
It's very simple biology, actually. The stuff you consume can be put into use for any part of your body. My food mainly fuels my head, since I have no strength for exercise, or time. I actually don't move around all that much. But even though I eat a ton every day, mostly fruits, vegetables, and grains (thanks be to Pakistani diet) with the occasional 2-12 bags of popcorn thrown in, none of it really has an effect. I use up all the calories in intense brainwork! Same as my dad; he puts half a cup of sugar in his nightly tea, which is unbelievable, but he's the second skinniest person in the family. But his energy goes mostly into talking (avec moi; we're the chattery ones).
I wouldn't recommend not getting any exercise like I do, though, because after my 5 weeks in bed, all my muscles flew to Mars and left me all alone on Earth. I'm getting better though; I'm still strong enough to engage in tests of strength with my brothers (namely, tug of war, with our arms as the ropes). Which is really saying something, since they're both huge and lift weights and play football and stuff.
My only advice if you want to control your health is to first control your perception of your health. See, the thing is, the way your mind thinks affects your whole body. You know about the Placebo Effect? How people who thought they were receiving effective treatment when they actually were just given sugar pills actually got better? It's a VERY interesting subject I've been perusing for months now. I even read in one article that a cancer patient was completely cured without treatment, just because of some placebos. I admit that it's a bit far-fetched, but lots of other serious diseases really have been treated with placebo. So keep that in mind when improving your health!
Just one more comment: *ouch*. I would have been so freaked out if I kept vomiting like that. *shudder* I am mortally afraid of throwing up, almost as much as bees, if not more. I remember when I threw up when I first started the iron pills for my anemia treatment. *makes face* I threw up twice a day for a few days, and that's nothing compared to what happened to you. :( But I guess it's like they say, it has to get worse before it gets better. I'm glad that things are going great for you!
P.S. I love Ultimate Frisbee! It's the third best sport ever, next to football and badminton!
Leigh Gilholm Fisher
*chuckles* You've mentioned your transformation from a blubber nugget over the years. When I went under the stories section I saw your name and I blinked a moment. XD
But anyway. I think I was about eight when I wanted to try getting in shape. I was 120 when I was seven and I'm now 115. *looks for shocked teenage girls that are all horrified I said the great secret of all women; my weight* *waits* *assigns cats to keep watch*
Anyway! Last time I was seriously sick, excluding two weeks ago I had the cold from hell, was wwaaaaaaaayyyyy back in my years at public school. I vomited so many times I was taken to a hospital and on an IV for an unknown amount of days...I vaguely remember getting sick a lot and getting dehydrated.
My exercise schedule is averaging 7,000 steps a day, biking at least four days a week (biking five miles, too (h)), and some stretching and calisthenics. While nowadays I don't have much trouble maintaining my weight, I clearly remember waiting two hours after every meal to do a rigid half-an-hour to one-hour bout of calisthenics. *bows head to the all might sit-ups*
But sit-ups destroy your back so it's pretty much pick your evil. ^-^
Oh, and wanna know where the step-counter stuff started? My grandmother is diabetic and got a step counter to attack to her shoes, but she couldn't "get it to work" (though it didn't even had an LCD; it was insanely simple) and gave it to me. It served me over a year and allowed me to monitor my daily exercise to some degree but when I got it too wet it died. Within a week I was off to Rite Aid to buy another one...but I can't find it, and I'm very bothered...
Hey...! *rereads last line* Ah! It's for Debra Rose's contest, right? Good work, I couldn't think of anything to enter. XD I barely get time to turn Lappie on nowadays. O_O I haven't sat down for serious work on a book since late October: I feel so guilty and lazy...
To end this long comment that's about the size of ten of my comments on the usual poetry I find myself reading, good work and good luck in the contest! I'm wary about praise though, it's a good accomplishment and I see no errors but it's a documentary piece more than a story...*slides glasses up nose* Alright, I'll be a good gremlin and praise fairly...
Wo ai ni,
Leigh of the Commenting Community
Rant, rant, rant, rant, rant..."praise be to Yevon" I've shut up...
Oh look, the cat is watching me again...