Gaps in aftercare...and perfection

Yup...that's what I told everyone.

As a highly-competitive, perfection-driven person, I decided that after WLS surgery I would be the model patient.  For 7 years, I was the perfect post-op--I followed the program to a t, and convinced myself that I had overcome every demon that could potentially get in my way of success.  I lost 100% of my excess weight (which is almost unheard of), went for blood work religiously, met regularly with my nutritionist, had a yearly bone scan, facilitated a WLS support group--the whole nine yards.  I sustained the 100-pound weight loss and was the epitome of success.  My surgeon was delighted with the results, and other pre- and post-ops admired my dedication and marveled at how well I was doing and how great I looked. 

What I told myself.

But it was all a big freakin' lie.  Holding up that facade of perfection was exhausting to sustain.  Worse, I felt like a phony because inside I was an absolute mess.  I didn't feel as good as I looked.  Food scared the shit outta me.  There was a huge hole in my heart from deceiving everyone.  I felt guilty and ashamed that I really didn't have it all together, yet wouldn't dream of scarring my perfect persona by seeking help from my surgeon. 

I floundered with my eating plan.  Stopped going to the gym.  Took no pride in the progress I had made.  I'd had enough.  So, in my typical black-and-white stinkin' thinkin', I walked away from the program, and in two years I gained back 30 pounds.  I suffered miserably.  Turns out I wasn't so damned perfect after all. 

I've since taken charge again by inviting healthy structure and genuineness into my life.  In hindsight, fear and insecurity kept me from not seeking care for my psychological and emotional self at the get-go.  (You'd think I'd have known that, being a therapist and all.)  I'm currently in counseling with an awesome psychiatric nurse practitioner, and I definitely feel better and more genuine.  

Attending weekly support meetings at Weight Watchers are a great help (this week I've gone three times), but instead of being the "resident expert" or "know-it-all go-to person," I'm in the trenches with my fellow WW members.  I learn much from them and am comforted in knowing that I'm not alone in this struggle.  I no longer feel like an army of one.   

WLS aftercare programs have a ginormous gap of not providing and requiring counseling support.  My bariatric program's suggestion for addressing post-op emotional issues was for me to hire a private therapist (because the program didn't have one on staff) and regular attendance at a support group.  Well, good luck with that.  I met with a few counselors who specialized in eating disorders, but knew very little (if anything) about the unique challenges to expect after WLS surgery incisions heal.  I felt alone, abandoned and misunderstood.
   

In my geographic area (and nationwide, I suspect), there's an unmet need for counseling services with a bariatrics professional as part of WLS programs.  That said, I want to start a private practice dedicated solely to WLS post-ops who struggle with the psychological, emotional and social aspects of living in a smaller body, who need to address the reasons they became obese in the first place, and who white-knuckle it daily when it comes to food.  Hope to close the gap just a tad in my little corner of the world.

See, I feel for those folks, because I walk the walk with them.  Supporting my WLS peers will help me in my imperfect-but-do-able journey, too.  Can't wait to hang my shingle. 

My dream.

(c) Robyn M. Posson 2012.  All Rights Reserved.