By the time I was in kindergarten, I weighed 60 pounds. I was 5 years old.
My earliest memories of being “fat” were of being taken to my pediatrician. As a young girl entering first grade, my parents were worried about my accumulating poundage. I will never forget that visit because Dr. Hannah said to me, “You need to take better care of yourself, because how was any boy going to want to look at you or be your friend?”
To help me take better care of myself, Dr. Hannah started me on a regime of amphetamines (“Black Beauties” ring anyone’s bells?). I hated chewing up those bitter pills. My mom would put them in jam on toast to help conceal the flavor.
By the time I was in the 4th grade, I weighed 104 pounds. I was 9 years old.
After a while, it was determined that the prescription drugs weren’t going to work, since as soon as I stopped taking them, you all know what happened—the pounds came flying back. My mom tried the grapefruit diet, chicken soup powdered mix, Weight Watchers foods. I appreciated everything she tried.
By the year 2002 my weight had ballooned up to 375 pounds on a 5’3″ frame. Get the picture?
I sought out weight-loss surgery and found a bariatric surgeon whom I really liked, trusted and believed in. I was 42 years old by then; he was concerned that I wouldn’t make it to 50. He went on to explain that I had as much hope of losing the weight with diet and exercise as I had of making the Olympic ski team.
As of this date I weigh 127 pounds. Fat no more, but just phat.
What is phat? What is the secret to my extreme weight loss? And what does Michael have to do with all this?