Keeping up appearances

Addressing the uncouth as I walk through weight-loss surgery

Hi. Let’s just just get this out of the way. I’m fat. I’m not pudgy. I’m not big-boned. I’m medically diagnosed morbidly obese. And while I had gastric-sleeve surgery in August to address the issue, it’s a tool and not a miracle cure for obesity. I’ve lost 51 of 120 pounds needed gone.

I’m writing this column after a snarky, local bartender — whom I do not know socially — leaned in on a recent night out with my friends to say “I heard you had weight-loss surgery,” as if it were some sort of “gotcha” moment. Weirdly, I’ve been nothing but open about it, so I have no idea what he was getting at, but since he’s so curious, shall we lay it all out?

I weigh and measure myself monthly to keep track of my progress. Photo by Lisa Grouette

To be super clear, while the surgery is ultimately the hero of this story, so much work is needed in the aftermath.

In a gastric-sleeve surgery, which is what I had on Aug. 26, 2025, your stomach is reduced to 20% its natural size, making overeating all but impossible lest you experience serious physical pain. I can only eat around 3/4 cup of anything before I get full.

Some foods are no longer tolerated by your new, small stomach pouch, and you don’t know until trying said food. Various greens were on that list for me as well as rice, quinoa, and even veggie-based noodles are off the menu.

You’re also given pretty strict high-protein, low-carb intake guidelines, which limit the foods you can consume.

Ideally, you’d take in the protein-heavy elements of your daily menu first so you make sure if your tummy gets full, it’s at least protein.

On the other side of this, regardless of how much protein is involved, too many carbs equals dumping syndrome. Which is as gross and uncomfortable as it sounds...

And, actually, since you’re so curious, bartender, your new digestive setup may leave you with painful tummy issues and miserable nausea, no matter your sugar or carb intake. Which is my case. Am I really in a position to complain, though? I think not, and here’s why:

I was at my highest weight. I couldn’t walk farther than two blocks or stand longer than 10 minutes without experiencing extreme pain. I had to take a high dose of Tylenol 20 minutes before I showered, just so I could stand long enough to shave my legs. Doing the dishes took around 45 minutes because I’d require a number of sit breaks. Laundry day was filled with absolute dread. I was embarrassed and self-conscious to be in public. My clothes were uncomfortable. The simplest tasks left me out of breath. Tying my shoes was beyond difficult. My self-worth was nonexistent.

Me in April 2025, near my highest weight, two weeks before my initial surgical consultation.

Did I try to lose weight on my own? Yes. Did I see some results? Ish. Did I also end up gaining the weight back — plus a lot more — after experiencing parent loss and job loss on top of that? Yes.

Did it just become too much of an undertaking to handle without medical intervention? Also, yes.

You still following along, bartender? I just want you to keep up with my journey as much as you’re keeping up with the gossip.

I was thankfully able to have the surgery with no medical complications to speak of. I had ungodly pain during recovery, but it was nothing that wouldn’t fade away in the weeks to follow.

Since then, I’ve tracked my daily caloric intake, my activity, my carbs and my protein. One hundred eighty days of recording, dear bartender. I’m completely on track to have the 120 pounds I talked about with my doctor gone before my one-year surgery anniversary.

Am I still a large person? Yes. I have more than half my weight-loss goal left to go.

Am I healthy? I’m getting there. My blood pressure is now back to normal, my cholesterol is down, and my activity level has increased tenfold.

Am I absolutely above your snarky BS, sweet bartender, and ready to engage only with those on a more dignified level than you seem capable of reaching? You bet your skinny ass.

Lisa Grouette is a proud member of the Iowa Writers Collaborative, a group of Iowa writers, authors, and content producers. If you enjoy hearing from Iowa voices, please consider helping to broaden their reach with a paid subscription. Your support goes a long way.