I remember starin’ at my mug in the mirror in July 2005 two days after wifey and I visited family for a week in Seattle and I damn near shattered the entire thing. I was huge and didn’t recognize the shiny-faced monkey in the mirror. Who was that cat? How did he blow up like that? I knew the answers and I couldn’t blame anyone but my own daggone self. I had spent the last five years in and out of depression, McDonalds was a cruel mistress and we dated pretty heavily at that time. End result was that I was swollen forreal, blimped up to 315lbs easy (I couldn’t remember the last time I was 200lbs).
Dag, I was obese. That was the medical term for my condition — at 315lbs, I was fat as hell. Like most cats on the slippery ride to Big Pun-dom I decided to get live and get low. Wifey started helpin’ me research how to eat right. It wasn’t easy. I argued with her A LOT. I went through withdrawals from eatin’ fast food (thats some SAD ish when you can’t live without the busted-ass taste of high fructose corn syrup). After about a month I was cookin’ (literally) and getting into the routine of eating better had started to take shape. Next, I took my geeky butt out on the road. I had figured my BMI (body mass index) and knew the optimal heart rate to ramp up to so I could start takin’ off the heavy. NIKE supplied me with the heart rate monitor so I could keep it all in check. Within a week or two, pounds started comin’ off and I quickly found myself at 285lbs.
By November 2005, I was rollin’ along at 275lbs. Takin’ the long stairs out of the T-station, walking as much as I could without driving to my destinations, eating right, etc, etc. Forty lbs, in about 4 months. Poundage was melting off at about 10lbs per month. Even though I was eating right (chicken, fish, turkey, sushi, fruit, veggies, yogurt, etc) I allowed myself some slack type meals when I mentally needed a boost. I decided to treat myself to a steak for dinner one night and thats when my real history of violence began. A few hours after dinner I was curled up in a fetal position on the floor, my stomach was cramped all that be damned, and I thought I was about to die. I tried to relieve the problem, but, the business end was apparently closed. Instead, I was lookin’ into a toilet, wretching, for hours. Literally. OK I thought, I’ve got food poisoning. This went on for two days. I lost 11lbs in the process.
Recovery finally began and I started back into my routine. In December 2005 I joined a gym and started getting my elliptical cardio swerve on. Everything was all good(TM) for a few months and the weight continued to melt off. One day I noticed something was off and I felt constipated and felt some demolitions takin’ place in my abs. Within minutes I was on the floor in pain. Dag, I’m trippin’ I thought. Long story short, I thought I had an ulcer that was tearin’ me up inside (I had five episodes like the one in November — it wasn’t food poisoning, so I thought it was stress). I spent a gang of time browsing WebMD for clues. After much hits upside the head from wifey and ma dukes, I went to see the doctors. I explained the situation and let them draw blood (one of those blood givin’ sessions didn’t go well AT ALL bruh).
TRUTH? I was scared as hell. I found out I didn’t have cancer, hep A,B,or C. I didn’t have an ulcer (I used to). I didn’t have Irritable Bowel Syndrome. It was a long list of issues I dont’ have. Right now, I weigh between 230-235lbs depending on the time of day. In 7 months, I lost 80-85lbs. When I have these abdominal episodes, I usually lose 10-12lbs in water weight because I can’t get down with food or drink for days. The weight usually normalizes and eventually stabilizes.
Last Thursday I went in for an ultrasound. The doctors sent me to a liver specialist. They suspect a fatty liver, gall stones or gall sludge. My system shuts down when tryin’ to process super fatty content. It could be non-alcoholic steatohepatitis (NASH) — it’s a common form that many people who are overweight have apparently (and I don’t get down with drinkin’ so it SEEMS aiight logically). The ultrasound results will tell the tale of the tape (NOTE: my extreme weight loss of 85lbs in 7 months is what brought the issues to the surface according to the experts).
After the ultrasound I went home, had lunch, and was all good. Friday, we went to Maine for my boys wedding. I spent the entire weekend in the bed & breakfast curled up in a fetal position. Same as all the other abdominal episodes. It lasted for four solid days. Wifey had to drive us home after all the action was over (I was able to sit long enough to be at the wedding, but only 10 minutes of the reception). She suspects the frozen pizza she served me (READ: sabo’d Me!) on Thursday night was the suspect that killed me (I’ve spent an entire week at home trying to recover from this latest episode)…and the history of abdominal violence continues.
