The Two Sides Of Everything (Especially Weight Loss Surgery)

Weight-loss surgery is a powerful tool. In my case, it helped me lose the weight I urgently needed to lose and gave me room to rebuild a life that had become dangerously unhealthy.

It is also surgery. Anyone presenting it as an effortless shortcut has confused a useful tool with a magic wand, probably because magic wands have better marketing.

The Good Side

Before surgery, I weighed 150 kg and lived with type 2 diabetes and serious cardiovascular disease. Losing weight was not about producing a more flattering photograph. My health had already issued several final warnings, including four blocked coronary arteries.

After surgery, my weight fell dramatically. My blood-glucose control improved, my diabetes eventually went into remission, and being active became possible rather than theoretical. I started walking, then running. I returned to strength training and windsurfing. Ordinary tasks stopped feeling like endurance events.

There were smaller victories as well. I could buy clothes in normal shops instead of accepting whatever happened to exist in XXXXXL. Chairs became furniture rather than risk assessments. I could move through the world without constantly calculating whether my body would fit.

The improvement in my quality of life is difficult to overstate.

The Less Photogenic Side

Rapid, substantial weight loss leaves evidence. Excess skin is the obvious example, especially around my stomach. It is inconvenient and occasionally annoying, but it is not the tradeoff that concerns me most.

My larger issue is nutrient absorption. I was mildly anaemic before surgery because my body already struggled with iron. After surgery, maintaining iron levels became harder. Oral supplements were not enough, so I required intravenous iron. That restored my levels for a while; when they fell again, I could feel the effect in dizziness, fatigue, and reduced training performance.

This is now part of my life: daily supplements, regular blood tests, medical follow-up, and iron infusions when my doctors determine they are necessary. Other people have different procedures, medical histories, and outcomes. This is my experience, not a universal description of bariatric surgery.

The operation did not remove the need to pay attention to my body. It made that attention more important.

Was It Worth It?

Yes.

That answer does not require pretending the difficult parts are pleasant. I would prefer not to take supplements every morning and evening. I would happily skip the blood tests and iron infusions. I would also prefer never to have needed heart surgery, insulin, or bariatric surgery in the first place. Reality declined to offer that package.

When I compare my life before and after surgery, the difference is not close. I am active, my immediate health risks are lower, and my daily life is better. The ongoing medical maintenance is real, but it is manageable with proper follow-up.

Could some of this have been avoided if I had taken my health seriously much earlier? Probably. Hindsight remains 20/20—or 6/6 for those of us using a measurement system invented after the Middle Ages.

Regret does not change the starting point. Surgery gave me a tool. The work before and after it is what turned that tool into a different life.