Thanks to gastric sleeve surgery, I recently lost 173 pounds. I look better than I have since high school. I’m actually running faster and jumping higher WITHOUT wearing any PF Flyers. I feel freaking great.
And all I can think about is bellying up to the buffet and packing on some more pounds.
No, it’s not because I miss food, Richard Simmons. And it’s not because I have some emotional disorder I’m trying to deal with, Dr. Phil. It’s because all I can think about is getting back in the hospital in Juarez, Mexico.
Sound crazy? Let me explain.
Before I had my procedure, I was fat. I’m talking Jaba the Hutt, Jessica Simpson after the baby, two-twins-on-tiny-motorcycles-in-the-Guinness-Book-of-World-Records FAT.
I was a slob. And it was ruining my life.
I never went out. Never went to games, bars or hit on chicks. And speaking of chicks, I never went on a single date in high school/college, let along have a meaningful relationship. It sucked big time.
So I wallowed in my girth-y flab and sat on the couch watching reality TV (skinny Jessica Simpson was hot), eating doughnuts, ordering pizza and feeling sorry for myself. What else is new, right?
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to lose the weight. I just couldn’t. Mostly because I was lazy, but also because nothing seemed to work. Atkins? No carbs? No way. Weight Watchers? That went the way of Kirstie Alley. Grapefruit Diet? Really, you want me to peel a grapefruit? Do you have any idea how much work that is?
No, nothing worked.
So I did some Googling and came across BeLiteWeight and their doctors in Juarez that perform weight loss surgery. The website showed the requisite before and after pictures. It seemed legit.
Still, Juarez? Mexico’s drug capital? I was obviously a little apprehensive. But I looked around on the website and talked to the staff, so I figured why not? Besides, I had nothing else going on— except that pizza…
Anyway, I went down to Juarez, and all I can say is: AMAZING!
I’ve had friends who’ve gone to Cabo and Cancun. They’ve raved about the sun and the beer and the service.
But I can honestly say that my stay in Juarez was better. I was treated like a king. And not just a “tourist king.” Like an actual king.
I was pampered from the minute I arrived to the minute they dropped me off at the airport.
Massages, cable TV and a hospital room that would put some four-star hotels in New York to shame. I loved it, even the surgery, which was performed in a state-of-the-art surgical suite by an extremely experienced and professional doctor (Dr. Rodriguez and Dr. Elmo are remarkable guys).
Yes, I’ve lost a ton of weight. And my life is back on track. But all I can think about is putting on the pounds so I can head back down to Juarez. Sounds like a pretty good vacation right now.
