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Save the whale!

My blubber problem was a matter of life and death ...


Published by: Polly Taylor
Published on: 2nd August 2010

Mopping up the last of the creamy carbonara sauce with a huge, buttered wedge of rustic bread, I smacked my lips.
‘Delicious!’ sighed my husband Geoff. ‘You’re quite the chef!’
I smiled. Cooking rich dishes really was my speciality. And I was pretty good at eating them as well!
Sure, I’d gained weight since I’d started to indulge my passion – but I loved my food too much to mind.
Besides, Geoff didn’t seem bothered by my fuller figure!  ‘More wine?’ he asked, topping up my glass before I’d answered.
Of course I did! I was planning on a relaxing bath. I hadn’t had one since we moved to our new house and I loved nothing more than a glass of red to accompany me as I sank beneath the bubbles.
Turning on the taps, I drizzled my favourite bubble bath into the water and undressed myself.
This was going to be pure bliss…
But, heaving myself into the suds, I sent a tidal wave of soapy water spilling out over the sides.
Oh, I frowned. I must have overfilled it. I lowered myself deeper into the water and yet more suds splashed on to the floor.
In horror, it dawned on me there wasn’t enough room in the tub for my bulk and the water! Had I really become too fat to have a bath?
The worst was still to come. When I tried to hoist myself out, I discovered that I was wedged – like a whale in a fish tank! How had I got this big?
Huffing and puffing, I finally managed to free myself. Gingerly, I stepped on the nearby scales and watched the needle swing almost the entire way around the dial. I was huge – 21st! Looking in the mirror, I could finally see where all those rich dinners had gone.
My heart sank. I hadn’t always been a big girl. Up until my 20s, I was slim – but after I got married and had children, my waistline had expanded. I tried every diet going and lost weight. But I always gained it back – and more!
By the time I reached my 40s, I weighed 17st and I’d had enough of trying. ‘I’m giving up dieting!’ I’d told Geoff.
‘Good for you!’ he’d said, squeezing my waist. ‘I’ve always preferred a bit more meat on you!’ So I’d ditched the diets and thrown myself into my new hobby – cooking.
Each evening, I’d pour myself a glass of wine, spread my ingredients on the sideboard and make something delicious. Cheese, butter, cream – I used it all!
‘Beats counting calories,’ I’d chuckle to myself as I stirred the thick, creamy sauces I created.
My clothes grew tighter, but I tried my best to ignore it and other signs my weight was out of control.
When Geoff had ordered new garden furniture, I’d sunk my behind into one of the plastic chairs. Or rather I’d tried to – it wouldn’t fit! ‘Pesky armrests,’ Geoff had said kindly. ‘We’ll order some without.’
So I continued tucking into large portions of my culinary creations.
I wore dark clothes to disguise my bulk, and I was always behind any camera, instead of in front.
But now there was no hiding from the scales. Standing there soaking wet,
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d walked anywhere without getting out of puff. Geoff even had to paint my toenails for me as I was not able to reach my own feet.
It was time to lose the blubber. But how?
There was no way I was going on another diet. Been there, done that, I thought.
But a few days later, I watched Fern Britton presenting This Morning. Gosh she’s slim, I thought. She used to be the same size as me! After that, every time I watched the show, it seemed she’d lost more weight. I wanted to know how she was doing it! 
A couple of days later, the newspapers reported she’d had a gastric band operation.
So I went on the internet and researched the op. I booked a consultation and talked to a surgeon. I even arranged a £6,000 loan to cover it.
That evening, I sat down to dinner with Geoff. ‘I’m having a gastric band fitted,’ I told him.
‘I love you just the way you are,’ he sighed. ‘But I’ll support you.’
Luckily, the surgery went well. I was still able to eat all of my favourite foods – just tiny amounts. After a couple of adjustments to get the size of the band right, the weight started to drop off.
After a month, I saw a massive change and decided to weigh myself for the first time since the op. ‘I’ve lost a stone!’ I cried.
‘That’s great, love,’ Geoff beamed, hugging me.
The transformation was amazing – I lost a whopping 11st in just under two years, and went from a size 24 to a size 8.
I have a new wardrobe of clothes and had the confidence to wear a swimsuit on my first holiday in 10 years.‘I hardly recognise you,’ Geoff teased, as I lay on a sunlounger.
There was nowhere to hide my body there – and the thing was, I didn’t want to!
I’d achieved what I once thought was impossible and I’ve no doubt that the operation saved my life.
Best of all, bath time is back on the agenda. Except, I no longer feel like a whale – I just have a whale of a time!
Annette Bates, 55, Howden, East Yorkshire