So, I've thought long and hard about weight loss surgery, obviously.  It wasn't a decision that I ever came to easily.  As a matter of fact, I've gone over this decision in my head time and time and time again.  A few years ago I contacted a surgeon's office to begin the process.  I never saw the surgeon, but I did go to the psychiatric evaluation and he pretty much talked me out of it.  I hadn't done my research at that time.  I hadn't even considered all of the things I'd have to give up, or how hard I've to work.  I remember the doctor asking me if I could give up my Diet Coke.  Like seriously?  What he insane?  Hell no I couldn't give that up.

And now?  I am so ready.  I'm ready to give up my Tim Horton's breakfasts.  I'm ready to give up McDonald's and Burger King and Arby's.  I'm ready to give up my once-a-week pizza eating habit.  My Buffalo chicken.  My loaded french fries.  My fried pickles.  My mocha cappucinos.  All the bad, fattening, disgusting poison I've been feeding myself will kill me.  KILL me.  I might as well suck on a loaded gun.

So, yea.  This wasn't an easy decision to make.  I thought about all the times I have dieted and failed.  Slim Fast.  Diet pills.  Starvation.  Counting calories...carbs...protein...salt...whatever...I've done it.  I've done the gym.  I've done Tae Bo.  I've done Walk Away the  Pounds.  I've done Zumba on my Playstation.  I've tried and tried and tried and failed and failed and failed.  And I don't want to die.  I don't want to stroke out, or have a heart attack or anything like that.  I want to be around a very long time.  For myself.  For my son.  For my husband.  

A hard decision, definitely.  But it's the right decision for me.

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