My name is Shellia Reed and I am a 35 year old African American single mother. At 256 pounds and a height of 5’4”, I feared for my health. My journey started about seven years ago when I started looking into weight loss surgery after several years of failed attempts at dieting. After researching the gastric bypass procedure, I was not comfortable having the inside of my tummy rearranged. I finally decided the LAP-BAND was the best choice for me, but I was not able to afford the surgery. In September of 2010, my job switched insurance companies which covered this life saving surgery. I attended a seminar and stared my journey with assistance from Dr. Wright and his staff. From September 2010 to February 2011, I had lost 30 pounds before surgery by following the nutritionist’s guidelines on best food choices and how to read food labels.
My surgery was on February 3, 2011 and that was the day I got a new lease on life. My woes with weight began with sexual abuse as a child, both my parents were heroin addicts, and I did not have a stable upbringing, so I turned to food as a coping mechanism. I have been big as far back as I can remember. Most of my family members are big, too. I thought this is just how it was. As a child, I do not remember having a limitation on what I could eat. I ate when I wanted to eat, all I could eat. Everyone around me ate like that, too. I had to eat everything that was put on my plate. As I got older, I started equating food with feelings. If I was happy, I wanted to eat a certain food. If I was sad, I wanted to eat a certain food. I would sit in class in high school and fantasize about what I was going to eat or who I would sit by during lunch. My skinny friends would give me their food. I knew they did not like what was served on Wednesdays (enchiladas), so I would lunch with them. On other days, I would eat with friends who liked to eat like me. My favorite thing to do was to eat as much as I could to get a full belly and go to sleep.
As an adult, my weight affected my teaching career. I would only teach elementary students, because I knew the kids would not make fun of my weight as opposed to the middle and high school students. I have a sincere desire to be an active mommy for my very active five year old son. I knew that I had to do something about my weight when my son called me fat when he was four years old. I ran to my room and cried. I don’t want my son to be embarrassed when I pick him up from school because of my weight. I have to be healthy in order to see my son grow into a man.
Before I had the LAP-BAND, I would try to convince myself that big was beautiful, but I was lying to myself. Big may be beautiful to many people, but to me being healthy is a beautiful thing. My family tried to convenience me that I was big and beautiful and that black people don’t get weight loss surgery, but I did. I am so much happier now. I make better food choices and I can run and play with my son. When I pick him up from school, I hold my head up. I smile more. I have been taken off two medications. I sleep better at nights. I walk and ride my bike. I plan my meals instead of planning on what to eat based on how I feel that day. This journey is a process and processes take time. My journey has been supported by the staff at the Nix Weight Loss Surgery Center and the monthly support groups. Everyone at Dr. Wright’s office has held my hand through the insurance process, answering questions over the phone, and returning e-mails about what is a good brand of whole grain crackers. My friends and family have supported me through this process, too. They had to be educated on what is best for me and learn to be understanding of my new lifestyle and eating habits. They have observed that I eat slower, learned not to rush me while I’m eating and not to offer me a drink during a meal. I have lost over 50 pounds and I feel the true me is coming to light. I am becoming more and more confident every day. As each day passes, I feel less restricted by my weight. I am shrinking into the woman and mommy I was made to be.