This is the second in a series of I-have-no-idea-how-many parts about a gastric bypass operation that I underwent in 2006. To read the first part, click here.
For several months in 2004, my splendid doctor-friend Dr. Preston and I talked about employing Gastric Bypass Surgery to lower my weight to some level below Morbidly Obese. Dr. Preston thought it could easily get me down to merely Obese…and then maybe we could lower it a few more notches via more conventional and time-tested means. We might even get it down to the point where, when Cirque du Soleil needed a new tent, they wouldn't phone and ask if I had an old pair of pants I was ready to give away.
Dr. Preston never pressed. He knew the ultimate decision had to be mine and I wasn't there yet. One thing that made me hesitant was that the news was then filled with stories about a weight-loss method known as Phen-phen. It had been a fad for a while and a lot of people, including people I knew, seemed to have lost a lot of weight on it. But there were problems and Wikipedia can explain them better than I can. Here's a cut-'n'-paste of what they have to say…
"Phen-phen" refers to Fen-Phen, a former anti-obesity drug combination of fenfluramine and phentermine. The drug was withdrawn in 1997 due to serious health risks, including heart valve disease and pulmonary hypertension, leading to significant legal damages. Phentermine, however, is still available as a separate medication for weight loss, while fenfluramine was removed from the market.
One of the people I knew who'd tried Phen-phen was the wonderful comic actor and human being, Chuck McCann. Chuck had been watching TV on April 1, 1996, the opening day of the 1996 Major League Baseball season. As the game was just getting started, home plate umpire John McSherry staggered away from his position and collapsed on the ground, the victim of a fatal heart attack. His weight, reported at 382 pounds, obviously had a lot to do with it and I'm sure Chuck wasn't the only person in America who thought, "God, I need to slim down before that happens to me."
Chuck went on Phen-phen, dropped a serious amount of weight and then — fortunately — got off the drug before any of the bad stuff could happen. If he hadn't, he might not have had a 70th birthday party for me to attend in September of 2004. It was at the lovely home he shared with his even-lovelier wife Betty and it was so full of familiar faces that it brought to mind the joke, "My God…I'm the only one here I've never heard of!" Before I'd been there a half hour, I'd talked with Betty White, Fred Travalena, Tim Conway, Don Knotts, Harvey Korman and Jack Sheldon. Jack had his jazz quartet set up in the McCann living room and they played all evening, including several repeats of Jack's best-known performance, "I'm Just a Bill" from Schoolhouse Rock.
It was a wonderful party but I was ill at ease there. I just felt big and always in the way. No matter were I sat or stood, I was in someone's way and afraid to turn around for fear of knocking someone or something over. The buffet was, for me, really awkward: Plenty of yummy food but you had to fill your plate, stick the silverware in your pocket or somewhere, then find someplace to sit and eat, balancing the plate on your knees. After rejecting several chairs that looked flimsy and expensive, I found one next to my friends, Leonard and Alice Maltin.
It was my sturdiest option but I still worried that it might not survive me sitting on it and I was also afraid that out of sheer clumsiness, I would spill food all over myself and/or the McCanns' magnificent living room. I was sitting there, hearing the chair legs creak below me, wishing I was smaller and more graceful when Alice started telling me about her recent weight loss. She'd had Gastric Bypass Surgery and it had made a world of difference to her health, her life, her attitude, everything.
Why was she telling me all this? Well, why do you think?
Before that evening, I'd been keeping the notion of Gastric Bypass Surgery at arm's length. Phen-Phen had been the thing to do for a while but then the medical world figured out it was more dangerous than they thought. Gastric Bypass Surgery was the new thing to do. What if I had it done and then, a few years down the line, the medical world figured out it was more dangerous than they thought?
Then again, it had sure worked for Alice.
All this time, we had a great view of the front door, which was wide open. Every so often, we'd see some recognizable person arrive. Just as Alice finished telling me about the glories of her Gastric Bypass Surgery, we all spotted two young ladies walk in…two stunningly gorgeous young ladies.
They were very blonde and very tan and though they almost certainly weren't related, they were trying to look like twins. They were dressed in matching skimpy halter tops that barely covered very large breasts which may or may not have been real. They were also wearing tight, cut-off jeans. Everyone around turned to stare at them and everyone thought the same thing: "Hef is here!" They were, it turned out, his honor guard of sorts, heralding his arrival.
Sure enough, they were followed in by Hugh M. Hefner himself who was in turn followed by his bodyguard. Hef was dressed in silk pajamas with a yachting/captain's cap and quickly began making the rounds, speaking briefly to everyone at the party. All eyes were on him and his ladies and you could hear people murmur, "I don't believe it! Hefner leaving his mansion? To visit someone else's house?" Clearly, this was not something the publisher of Playboy did often.
Clearly too, he was not going to be doing it for long. The main assignment of the bodyguard seemed not to be to protect his boss from harm but to protect him from getting drawn into long conversations, the better to get the hell out of there A.S.A.P. Someone told me later that the whole time Hef was in Chuck's house, a limo was waiting outside the front door with the motor running. The bodyguard also whispered to Hef to tell him the names of certain folks he did not recognize.
In a chair to my left was seated a man in a red pullover sweater like Mort Sahl always wore on stage…which was entirely appropriate since he was Mort Sahl. I heard Hefner say hello to him and say "I'm Hugh Hefner" — and then, loud enough for me (and probably Mr. Sahl) to hear, the bodyguard whispered "Mort Sahl" to Hef and Hef realized he was talking to one of his oldest friends. When he got to us, Hef didn't remember me — I wouldn't have expected him to — but he also didn't remember Leonard, who knew Hef a lot better than I did and who had worked for Playboy a lot.
All of this led up to a moment I will never forget, nor should I. Because in hindsight, it was a pretty important moment in my life…
Hefner was talking to Leonard, not entirely sure who he was. The two drop-dead-gorgeous blonde ladies were standing directly behind my chair but I couldn't even turn to look at them, paralyzed as I was by the fear that the chair I was in was about to implode with me in it. I felt like if I made a move, I would at the very least spill buffet food all over myself, the Maltins and maybe even Hugh Hefner or Mort Sahl. Everywhere around me was an elevated potential for embarrassing myself in front of a lot of friends and people I admired. I'd certainly ruin Chuck McCann's wonderful birthday party…
…all because I was clumsy and awkward and just too fucking big.
I am not one prone to panic attacks. This is the only one I can remember and I sure as hell can't forget it…or stop shaking a bit as I'm writing this. All I could do at that moment was to not move an inch and to stare straight forward. And when I stared straight forward, what I saw was a man I recognized as Chuck's doctor, Dr. Bush.
How is it I recognized Chuck's doctor? Because Chuck's doctor had occasionally consulted on my medical issues. He was one of five doctors who practiced in a medical office in Beverly Hills and one of the other four was my Dr. Preston.
I summarized for myself what was happening: Alice telling me about Gastric Bypass Surgery…me feeling awkward sitting on a chair that could shatter at any minute and dump me on my XXXL butt…food balanced precariously on my knees…breasts to the left of me and I was afraid to turn to look at them…breasts to the right of me and I was afraid to turn to look at them…one of my doctors four yards from me…
That's when I said — not aloud, just to myself — "Okay, okay…I get the message!" I remained motionless until Hefner, the bodyguard and the Playboy Twins had moved on so Hef could greet some other old, dear friend he didn't recognize. I then carefully handed my buffet plate to Alice Maltin, got up even more carefully from the creaky chair which had somehow survived having me on it, then I staggered over to Dr. Bush who saw me coming and said, "Mark! Great to see you!"
I said, "I want to see you…you and Dr. Preston, Monday morning if it's possible. I want to start the process to have Gastric Bypass Surgery."
Dr. Bush said, "Well, it's about time."
This story will continue in a day or three. We have a long way to go…