A PROMISED ACCOUNTING

MONDAY (+ 3 days) – Okay, I’m gonna do it. I'm finally going to release those long-secret numbers and admit how fat I had become.

I didn’t go to work today because I just couldn’t get it together. I’m going to get there tomorrow and stay there as long as possible.

But I promised you I’d come clean here. At my worst point, October 2007, I was a bloated and miserable 332 pounds. The number that popped up on the scale at Dr. A’s office stunned me. “Can’t be true,” I thought. Right away, I started with the excuses. The steroids. The chemo. The insulin. My genes. My big fat stomach and even bigger mouth.

But it wasn’t until Dr. R, the Wizard, gave me a good old-fashioned bitch-slap that shoved me into motion. He said I should take “a years vacation from cancer doctors and just lose weight.” He said if I dropped 100 pounds or more, “85 to 95 percent of what your complaints would go away.”

No scare tactics, just the cold logic of the truth that woke me up.

I immediately started the long process of getting approval for the surgery I had last Friday. At the same time I changed some eating habits – mostly salads at lunch and Marcia helped me with smaller portions at home.

By February, I broke the 300 pound mark and by the time I finally got the go-ahead from Dr. F, I was at 296. But following Dr. F’s advice, I put off the operation until after my 60th birthday and Florida vacation in April. I used that time to have some great last meals/feasts. By the time I started my pre-surgical period, I was up to 308.

Two weeks later, I was 269 when I walked into the operating room. This morning, I weighed in at 262.

That’s a total of 70 pounds lost – so far.

My goal is 200. So I’m a little more than half-way. Actually, I’d like to get to 180, then celebrate with a week in Paris and settle at 200 and see how life is. The changes are already incredible.