Sunday, June 10, 2007 12:13 AM CDT BY CHRISTINE KRALY
The handful of nickels, dimes and cash in Angie and Darryl Cobb’s plastic bank may not be worth much.
Just their lives.
Over the last year, the Lake Station couple have collected the change during their nightly walks around the neighborhood. The money was found on walks they never thought they’d take and will go toward a vacation they never imagined planning.
Last year, the Cobbs underwent bariatric, or weight-loss, surgeries. Angie, 45, had laparoscopic, or Lap-Band, surgery; 47-year-old Darryl had a gastric bypass.
According to the American Society for Bariatric Surgery, almost 178,000 morbidly obese people in the U.S. had procedures in 2006.
“I was killing myself,” Angie said.
For the couple, last year was time to stop the killing.
The tipping point
As a general contractor, Darryl would get a lot of confused looks from clients. You can’t be the one going up on my roof, they’d say.
For many people, walking five ladder steps carrying shingles might be easy. While out on a job in 2005, Darryl, who weighed 444 pounds, couldn’t do it.
“I just made up my mind,” he said. “I was going to do it. I was ready to pop.”
He had struggled with his weight since childhood. He remembers sixth grade, when he couldn’t climb trees like the other boys or wear the same cool clothes. He shopped in the husky section.
“I missed out on so much,” he said.
Angie never worried about weight in her youth. But after she got married, she began gaining, at one point weighing 305 pounds. She joined Darryl in a vicious, but common, cycle of yo-yo dieting.
“In my life, I’ve probably lost 1,000 pounds,” he said. “You lose 50, gain 60.”
The turmoil affects more than your body, Angie said.
“You feel like a failure,” she said.
They’ve found success in their surgeries.
Patients benefit most when they follow up regularly with doctors and nurses, said Dr. Paul Stanish, who performed the Cobbs’ surgeries at Methodist Hospitals.
Methodist doctors have performed more than 600 such surgeries, and officials stress with each patient the importance of getting “the best bang for their buck after surgery,” bariatric coordinator Donna Kettle said. “They need to make each bite count.”
Angie’s bites now come in three, smaller meals a day. Uncapping a new water bottle, the self-proclaimed “Diet Pepsi-holic” condemned soda carbonation and touted the elliptical at the gym.
She has whittled to 193 pounds.
“Holy cow, I’ve lost four of you!” she recalls telling her young, 20-pound nephew.
At his heaviest, Darryl’s tool belt was really two belts clipped together. He has since dropped one of them, as well as 240 pounds.
Healthier and closer
Pill bottles no longer litter Darryl’s truck. He no longer carries aspirin or the arthritis pain reliever Vioxx, which he popped to alleviate knee and ankle pain.
Now, he takes vitamins.
“I feel like a 20-year-old,” he said.
But he’s not 20, and his body knows it because he suffers from occasional joint pain.
“I’m reminded that I carried around an extra 300 pounds,” he said.
When you’ve lost that much weight, your mind and body play tricks on you, the couple says.
For Darryl, balance has been an issue, and his feet feel different. His nurses are helping him not slouch so much.
He still finds himself scooting over turnstiles, now needlessly. Angie is getting used to fitting into a restaurant booth.
As Angie and Darryl’s waistlines shrank, their bond grew.
Before their surgeries, shared entertainment for the couple — who have been married 25 years — was limited to watching television, reading or going out to dinner.
“Now, we’re doing things together,” he said.
Walking is a favorite pastime, even if it means something as simple as choosing the mall parking space farthest from the door. They had special jackets made with reflectors for dark, late-night strolls. Ballroom dancing could be next.
As they plan a vacation to St. Thomas, Virgin Islands, they’ll look to include parasailing, something Darryl’s been itching to try.
“But when you’re a 5X, you don’t get a wet suit,” he said.
He sounds almost angry when he talks about his years of weight struggles. He and his 18-year-old son, Clif, were cheated, he said.
Clif likes seeing his parents happier and healthier. Their newfound focus on better eating has trickled to his own plate, he said. But he confesses, “I miss potatoes.”
The Cobbs now are excited for something Darryl never envisioned in his lifetime: grandchildren. Darryl was certain he would die by 58, like his father.
Years ago, a doctor told Angie she should worry more about a heart attack and less about the cancer that runs in her family.
“I missed out on a lot with my son,” Darryl said. “I want to play. I want to get on the floor and wrestle.
“We can be the fun grandparents,” he said. “We have a whole lot to look forward to.”
http://nwitimes.com
