The Incredible Journey of Transformation: A Tale of Health, Resilience, and Redemption

By Jeff Moore

“Wow, you look amazing in that suit!” Tavia says. We’re in our bedroom getting dressed for a charity fundraiser. In 18 years of marriage, Tavia, who always looks fantastic, has never said that to me to where I believed it. It’s not that she’s stingy with compliments; quite the contrary. Instead, it’s my first time wearing a suit impeccably tailored to fit. I grin at my reflection in the mirror. She’s right; I do look amazing.

My name is Jeff Moore. For as long as I can remember, I was always the fattest guy on the playground, on the plane, or at a conference. A year ago, I tipped the scale at 354 pounds, and my waist stretched to 58”. My entire life, my biggest challenge has been my weight. On June 28, 2022, all that changed. I literally lost half my body weight in twelve months. You can, too. Here’s how.

I’ve always been good at losing weight. Keeping it off, not so much. I've lost more than sixty pounds six different times. Yet each time, I found an excuse to put those lost pounds back on. Most times, I fell out of my routine. It was my diet a few times, which I fell off while on vacation. During Covid, I walked 15 miles daily, handling my work on a cell phone. Despite the lockdown, I walked around Phoenix with all the freedom in the world. Eventually, plane travel returned, and with it, my old routines.

Frustrated, in early 2022, I shared my desire to undergo bariatric weight loss surgery with Tavia. She encouraged me to make that first phone call. I was both excited and scared. I was excited because the procedure promised to help me win my lifelong battle with weight, but scared because surgery is scary, and so is change.

The Decision – Choosing A Path Towards Long-Term Success:

Living in Phoenix, I contacted our largest hospital provider, filled out some paperwork, and scheduled my first appointment. To my disappointment, the first appointment available was more than a year out, so much for excitement! Undeterred, I began calling other hospitals in both Arizona and California. Alas, the story was always the same: a year or more to secure an appointment. I developed an appreciation for the meaning of healthcare rationing.

I began exploring other options. Living in Arizona, it’s not uncommon to drive to Mexico for medical care. Many friends and colleagues echoed Mexico’s allure. Their stories of fewer regulations, expedited procedures, and swift recovery painted an enticing picture. The pull towards Mexico's quick and easy solution was unmistakable. In today's rapid-fire, Amazon-esque world, who doesn’t want instant results?

Choosing the path for my journey wasn’t merely about location or speed. It was about selecting a route prioritizing my safety, preparedness, and long-term health. Tempting as Mexico’s immediate solution appeared, my introspection led me to a profound realization. Quick doesn’t always equate to quality, especially when one’s health and well-being are in the balance.

Undergoing the procedure in the U.S. would provide me with a comprehensive preparation phase. Every test, every consultation, and every specialist’s opinion was one more stepping stone, plotting a meticulous roadmap to my transformation. In Mexico, many of these preparatory steps, essential in my view, were optional or even bypassed. While this makes for a speedier transition, I couldn’t help but wonder about the long-term ramifications. Could one be prepared for such a significant shift without these foundational steps? These processes, often viewed as hurdles or delays, became my bedrock. They ensured not just my physical and emotional readiness for the surgery but also optimized my chances of long-term success.

It is not to say that surgery in Mexico lacks merit. My colleagues are a testament to its success. However, for me, the more intricate, detailed, and sometimes tedious journey in the U.S. was a small price to pay for the safety and long-term benefits it promised. With its stringent regulations and rigorous checks, the U.S. medical ecosystem provides a cocoon of safety. And while the road was longer, it felt like a thorough, guided voyage rather than a hasty sprint. The added assurance of being in familiar surroundings, with access to trusted professionals, further cemented my choice.

Reflecting on my decision, it's clear the path I chose wasn't just about losing weight but gaining a lifetime of well-being. If given a chance to redo that chapter of my life, I'd undoubtedly choose the same U.S. route. The feeling of being holistically prepared, mentally, emotionally, and physically, has been pivotal in my journey. It's not just about living longer but about living better, richer, and with the confidence that every step was taken with my best interests at heart.

Having ruled out Mexico, my search continued. Finally, I was introduced to Hoag Hospital in Newport Beach, where I secured an appointment on June 28th, just weeks away. I had no inkling that my life would change forever when I walked through that door.

Ready, Set…

The night before my appointment, I flew from my home in Phoenix to Orange County, CA. I woke up the following morning and started my day like most others, consuming diet soda as if it were water. During high school, back in the 1990s, I became addicted to this very powerful beverage. For the next 30 years, I consumed a dozen or more diet drinks per day, every day of the year. (For those doing the math, that’s well over 100,000 soda cans!) The morning of June 28th, staying with my parents at their house, I downed three sodas for breakfast prior to my 8:00 a.m. appointment.

They would be my last.

I wasn’t sure what to expect upon arriving at the hospital. I was surprised that my first meeting was with a dietician. Knowing what I know now, there’s a very good reason. The lifelong journey I was about to embark upon is about dieting, making good choices, and being strategic in what you allow into your body. Leaving that meeting, I recall thinking this would be way harder than I thought.

My dietician at Hoag, explained there were things I simply couldn’t do anymore, like drinking soda. In addition, she asked me to kick carbohydrates by 90% for the remainder of my life. Instead, she assured me that protein and vegetables would become my new best friends. She encouraged me to adopt these new eating habits immediately. She also suggested losing 5-10 pounds before surgery.

She suggested I work out as much as possible. A big guy, many activities were impossible, so I accepted her challenge of walking 10,000 steps daily in addition to changing my diet and routine. I weighed in at 354 pounds, the highest of my life. I left that appointment by making a newfound commitment to myself. To my doctor, I committed to losing 40 pounds before surgery, though I still had no clue when that might be.

I then met my surgeon, Doctor Adrian Dobrowolsky. He explained the bariatric procedure in detail. Most bariatric surgeries are now done using the sleeve procedure versus others that used to be commonplace. The sleeve is permanent, and that's ultimately what I wanted. The sleeve also has a 1% mortality rate, like any other surgery, versus previous bariatric procedures which had 3% - 5% mortality rates. A math guy and a family man, I concluded those other procedures were no longer standard for a reason: who wants to roll the dice on a 1-in-20 chance of dying?

The sleeve procedure removes 95% of the stomach. Our stomachs are roughly the size of a football, which allows us to consume and store lots of food and drink. We can gulp down huge meals, chug 50+ ounces of water after a long workout, and even shotgun a beer. Our stomachs have plenty of room.

What's left after the sleeve procedure resembles a sleeve roughly the size of a banana. This “banana” is everything I can put into my body at one time, inclusive of food and beverage. In fact, they don't recommend consuming water or other beverages with a meal after surgery due to your limited capacity. They don't want you getting full drinking a cup of water. Even without anything to drink, you can only consume 6-18 ounces at a time.

The downsides included:

? never eating an 8-ounce steak again

? giving up drinking soda and beer

? limiting alcohol to less than one drink per night (if not eliminating altogether)

? never celebrating with a cigar

? dramatically reducing sugar intake

? never chugging after a workout, not even a small bottle of water

Once I understood the risks and downsides, I was ready, mentally for sure, and I think physically, too. Doctor Doe explained it was a relatively new procedure and getting in was quick just 3-4 months. I left the appointment with a newly motivated person.

Pre-op Preparation: Beyond Physical Readiness

Pre-op preparation involved more than a series of medical procedures and dietary restrictions. It was a comprehensive, transformative expedition, one that demanded intense discipline, resilience, and a deep dive into self-awareness.

From the outset, I was introduced to Mounjaro, a weight loss drug that would become a significant cornerstone of my preparatory journey. My initial skepticism was soon replaced with genuine appreciation as I observed its efficacy in harmonizing with my tailored diet and rigorous exercise regime. This drug acted not merely as a weight-shedding agent but as a beacon that helped me reforge a healthier relationship with food.

A critical aspect of this transformative phase was the sweeping dietary overhaul. The most glaring eliminations from my daily consumption were those items that, ironically, many adults often lean on for solace or pleasure: caffeine, nicotine, alcohol, and indulgent meals. The fragrant allure of caffeine-laden drinks, the deceptive comfort of nicotine, the relaxing sips of alcohol at social gatherings, and the heartiness of a big steak dinner all had to be set aside.

As I transitioned away from these vices, the effects were multi-dimensional. Beyond the evident physical benefits, this reshaping of my dietary habits illuminated a newfound perspective on longevity. Every vice relinquished potentially adds years to my life. The trade-off became clear: give up short-term indulgences for long-term rewards. Adding 20 vibrant years to my life journey was a powerful motivation.

But the path was not without its obstacles. Desserts and carbohydrates, especially, posed a formidable test to my resolve. The allure of pastries, pies, and plates loaded with pasta often seemed insurmountable. Yet, with time and sheer willpower, these temptations were replaced with healthier alternatives. Fruits, nuts, and lean proteins became not just meals but symbols of my commitment to this new life. The tangible results—weight loss and an unmatched energy surge—further solidified these choices.

The guidance from dietitians and nutrition experts during this phase was invaluable. A standout piece of advice was the introduction to the 'forever diet.' With an initial aim of shedding 10% of my body weight, this diet set the stage. Buoyed by the successes of those around me and a relentless drive, I surpassed this goal, reaching an impressive 16% weight reduction.

Preparations extended beyond physical. Mental fortitude and emotional resilience became equally crucial. Uncomfortable situations like asking for a seat belt extender on flights or shopping exclusively at big and tall stores like DXL became powerful reminders of the life I aimed to leave behind. Fitting into a roller coaster seat or the simple joy of sitting in a restaurant booth became milestones to achieve.

Finally, there was the support structure I put in place. Friends who held me accountable, coaches who guided my every step, and the promise of 'paying it forward' to others embarking on similar journeys became integral components of my roadmap to transformation.

Pre-op preparations, while centered around optimizing my body for the surgery, transcended the physical realm. The holistic journey, involving both the body and the mind, laid a robust foundation for the transformative surgery ahead and the enriched life beyond.

For the next 100 days, I did everything I said I would. I worked out daily, often for 2-3 hours. I never once drank soda or alcohol. I gave up carbs completely (well, not counting the occasional homemade chocolate chip cookie warm out of the oven!) My weight loss was dramatic, which was both exciting and motivating. I had committed to losing 40 pounds before surgery. I lost 60.

Those 100 days were such an incredibly transformative experience. So much that Tavia, wife, confidant, and best friend, questioned me on the need for surgery. “You look great! I love you the way you are,” she told me. She was right. I weighed 290 pounds, fighting shape compared to 354. But honestly, I was scared to even entertain the idea. I know myself. I’ll conjure an excuse to put it all back on again and return to my old fat guy routine.

Nothing scared me more than thinking about all the things that have haunted me my entire life. Shopping exclusively at DXL, the greatest store in the world for big and tall men, and the only place I have bought clothes for decades. A frequent traveler, nothing hurts more than being the big guy sitting next to your friends. I was too fat and out of shape to exercise or enjoy activities I love, like basketball and skiing. And forget about taking photos; I avoid it like the plague. Even worse than taking a photo, is looking at them or seeing yourself in the mirror. As the big guy, you play tricks on yourself so you won't even realize how big you are.

I was tired of being the big guy. My dream was to weigh under 200 pounds, like in high school. Was this even realistic? At the time, I could only dream!

During those 100 days, I had to remain focused at work and maintain my sense of humor, all while attending numerous appointments and overcoming various obstacles and roadblocks. I needed clearance from the dietician, requiring several more appointments. A psychologist needed to sign off that I was mentally prepared. A cardiologist needed to ensure I was physically up to the procedure. I suffer from sleep apnea and wear a CPAP mask, so my ENT specialist had to sign off, as did my primary care physician. I live in Arizona, but I was having surgery in California, so some appointments were near home, and others required travel. Every week brought another appointment, plus lots of blood draws, too.

I’d no sooner convinced myself that I was ready when I received a major blow, one more excuse to fall off the rails. The hospital informed me they can operate, but the procedure wouldn’t be covered by my insurance. Undeterred, I pursued other options. Eventually I determined having the procedure at USC with the same surgeon would most likely be covered.

On October 12th, 2022, some four months after my first appointment, I finally underwent surgery. It was neither scary nor painful. I was able to walk hours after surgery. The following morning, I walked laps on my floor for 10,009 steps. I felt good; nothing hurt.

My post-surgery diet, however, sucked. I was placed on a liquids-only diet, and not the good kind like water, Jell-O, etc. My pre-surgery diet, also liquid, included protein shakes. (My other secret to success was Fairlife meal replacement shakes. A year later and I still love my Fairlife 26 or 42, the number of protein grams in each bottle.)

My doctors told me I should expect to spend 24-48 hours in the hospital. I was released in under 20. Tavia, by my side the entire time, took me home to my parent’s house. She stayed one more evening before returning home to Phoenix and our four children, transferring my care to my parents.

I had told my work family that I wouldn’t be working. I can't fly or drive. My parents have their own lives. There wasn’t much else to do, so I started walking…and walking 20,000-30,000 steps daily, or roughly 10-15 miles. Impressed by the amount of walking, after only five days, my doctor cleared me to fly, drive, or heck, walk home to Phoenix. Because of post-surgery complications, a close friend experienced a few years back, I never considered flying, and it’s a long walk to Phoenix, even for me, so I drove home.

Slowly, I modified my diet, eating more and more solid food, albeit modest portions compared to before. I resumed traveling again, establishing new routines, all while working out like a man on a mission, two plus hours per day. The weight just shed off. Daily, weekly, and monthly, the results were incredible. I weighed 290 pounds going into surgery on October 12. By Christmas, I was down to 250 pounds, the same I weighed when Tavia and I married 18 years ago, a huge milestone.

It's now one year since my first appointment, and the weight continues falling off. I've lost over 70 pounds since the holidays. Some weeks, I lose 8-10 pounds; others, I don't lose anything. As I write, I'm weighing in at 180. When I reach 177, I’ll have lost half of myself since embarking on this journey a year ago.

What I’ve lost in weight, I’ve gained in maturity. My journey has taught me a great deal about life, relationships, and my motivations. Since the surgery, I have discovered a newfound confidence. I’ve learned to be more kind towards myself and others. I am more patient and understanding towards my family, friends, and colleagues. One of my team members recently complimented me on how much I have improved as a leader.

This life-changing journey has been incredibly challenging, but my commitment has been unwavering: achieving a healthier and happier life. Despite numerous obstacles, the results keep me going, looking at the scale, receiving compliments, and buying a new wardrobe six times (nothing ever fits as long as you expect!) The sum of my experiences, both positive and negative, have left an indelible mark on my life, shaping me into the person I am today, I am smaller, for sure, but I like to think better.

A few prized moments on my journey:

? Realizing I’ll never again shop at the only clothing store I've known for 20 years – they don’t carry my size!

? Going from 354 pounds and a 58” waist to 180 pounds and a 31” waist

? Coming out of retirement from skiing, I’m now a season-ticket holder

? Attending a parent-teacher conference with Tavia and having a mutual friend think she was cheating on me with a skinny guy

? Reintroducing myself to friends and colleagues whom I've known for 20 years who failed to recognize me

? Watching a vendor, a grown man of 50, break into tears when he realized it was me, telling me how proud he was and that he didn't think my old self would have lived to 50

? My son told me his friends used to call me Big Jeff, that word I so hate amongst themselves. Now they call me Skinny Jeff.

? Receiving hundreds, if not thousands, of compliments, those words never get old and are encouraging; I don't want to disappoint anyone.

A few other exciting milestones along my journey were discontinuing the four or five prescription medications I had taken previously. They treated conditions like pre-diabetes, high blood pressure, and high cholesterol, conditions I no longer suffer from. Although I continue to use my sleep apnea machine, I was recently approved for a sleep study to see if this is something I can discontinue.

Life Redux: Post-Surgery Chronicles

Emerging on the other side of surgery marked a rebirth. As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, I found myself navigating an almost altered reality reminiscent of my past yet incredibly distinct. Each day presents newfound freedoms and surprising rediscoveries. While the physical transformation is undeniably at the forefront, the cascading effects it has had on seemingly mundane aspects of life are equally, if not more, profound.

The most striking change was in my relationship with food. I was that dad who would enthusiastically finish off his children's meals, much to their exasperation. I metamorphosed into someone who felt contentment with just a few bites. For instance, I used to voraciously consume an entire plate of fries, now I’m satiated with merely three. This change, so profound in its simplicity, led to playful family jests. My children and wife, previously wary of sharing their food, began offering their dishes with teasing smiles, confident I'd partake very little.

I’ve also rediscovered the world of fashion. I confess I’ve been on a shopping spree lately. It’s not that I love shopping, especially for clothes, but rather nothing in my wardrobe fits. For decades, shopping was an exercise in compromise. I didn’t choose clothing based on style or personal taste but solely based on fit. I was often relegated to the back corners of department stores, where limited selection and uninspired designs did little to boost my confidence. Eventually, I shopped only at DXL, the greatest store in the world for big & tall men. I no longer shop there; they don’t carry my size!

The doors to a vast world of fashion swung open. No longer bound by limited sizes and styles, I now venture into any store, from high-end boutiques to mainstream outlets, and revel in the choices available. The first time I confidently walked into a standard store, selected a garment off the rack, tried it on, and found it fit perfectly was a moment of unadulterated joy. It was a simple act but laden with significance. It symbolized breaking free from the chains of self-consciousness and stepping into the light of self-assuredness.

This newfound freedom isn’t limited to just clothing. It extends to accessories, footwear, and even how I carry myself. Ties, belts, shoes – every item became a statement piece, a reflection of my evolved self. I no longer hide behind baggy shirts or loose pants; I embrace fitted tees, tailored suits, and slim-fit jeans. Each ensemble echoes the renewed confidence bubbling within.

I’m also rediscovering old passions. Basketball, which once left me winded within minutes, has become exhilarating. Running, previously an activity I avoided, has transformed into an invigorating exercise that I eagerly look forward to. Every jump, sprint, and shot a testament to the distance I've traveled on this transformative journey.

Beyond the tangible realm, I’ve experienced a profound sense of liberation – the freedom from judgment. In the past, public outings, be it a casual day out or a formal event, were often marred by a nagging feeling of being constantly evaluated. Every smirk, whisper, or sidelong glance from strangers felt like a personal critique. Today, while I know that society's gaze is ever-present, it no longer weighs me. Instead of dreading social events or avoiding gatherings, I look forward to them. I revel in the compliments, cherish the astonishment of old friends, and bask in the pride reflected in my family's eyes.

In essence, my journey wasn't just about losing weight or fitting into societal norms. It was about reclaiming my identity, rediscovering my style, and asserting my place in the world. Fashion became more than just clothes; it became armor, a statement, and a celebration. Through fabrics, color, and design, I found a way to express the inner metamorphosis that paralleled the physical one. It was a dance of freedom, a symphony of self-love, and a relentless pursuit of the best version of myself.

The post-surgery chronicles aren't just a tale of physical alteration. They are a narrative of resilience, rediscovery, and relentless pursuit of a better self. As I navigate this new chapter, the scars, both visible and invisible, serve as badges of honor - each a testament to battles fought and triumphs achieved.

Paying It Forward

Our support systems are often the unsung heroes on our journeys, be they professional, personal, or, in my case, transformational. Throughout my arduous journey, I was graced by a seamless web of encouragement, advice, and love, weaved together by family, friends, professionals, and even acquaintances. The magnitude of their impact cannot be overstated, and their roles in my success are monumental.

From the outset, my ATI colleagues stood as pillars of strength. Some had themselves journeyed down the Mexico route, opting for a swifter path to weight loss. Their experiences were a wealth of firsthand knowledge, offering insights, warnings, and anecdotes that helped shape my decision. While the allure of a quicker solution was tempting, it was their candid sharing that made me appreciate the value of a more comprehensive, perhaps slower, but thoroughly prepared journey in the U.S. Their stories were a testament that shortcuts might offer instant gratification, but for enduring success, patience and preparation were key.

Then there were the coaches. Beyond their professional expertise, they became anchors in moments of doubt, offering both a listening ear and words of wisdom when the road ahead seemed too steep. Their guidance was instrumental in shaping not just the physical journey but also the mental and emotional facets of this transformation. Every session became less about numbers on a scale and more about holistic well-being.

Friends and peers became accountability partners. They celebrated the milestones, however small, and offered a gentle push on the days when motivation waned. Their camaraderie reminded me that while the journey was mine to undertake, I wasn't walking it alone.

Given my immense support, it feels natural to pay it forward. My profound transformation was not just a personal success story; it’s become a beacon of hope for many. I found myself sharing my experiences, lessons, and insights with those considering a similar path. Every conversation became an opportunity to inspire, guide, and support. Whether it was discussing the intricacies of pre-op preparations, the challenges of post-op adaptations, or the joy of rediscovered freedoms, each chat was a testament to the transformative power of shared experiences.

Paying it forward also manifests in more structured ways. Organizing community fitness drives, participating in weight-loss support groups, and even mentoring those at the outset of their journeys have become a part of my new normal. The cycle of receiving and giving back added a layer of purpose to my journey, reinforcing the idea that transformations are not just personal victories; they are community triumphs.

In essence, my journey underscored the adage that it takes a village. My transformation, while personal in nature, was communal in spirit. Every step was influenced, supported, and celebrated by a chorus of voices who believed in me, even when I occasionally doubted myself. And in their unwavering support, I found not just the strength to transform but also the inspiration to become a beacon for others. The journey thus became bigger than me; it became a testament to the power of collective belief, encouragement, and love.

Conclusion: Every Step, Every Moment, Every Challenge - Undoubtedly Worth It!

On a recent Saturday morning, I was sitting at the kitchen table with Tavia and our eldest son, Tyler. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sound of children laughing. Keen observers of my transformation, Tavia and Tyler often reminisce about the dad they used to know. Tyler, scrolling through photos on his phone, stopped to show me one of him and me before my journey began. The discomfort in my eyes was palpable. "It's strange," Tyler remarked, "to reconcile the dad in this picture with the dad I see now."

Tavia agreed. "It's like we've had two different dads, and yet you're the same person." Their words succinctly summarized my evolution. As we talked, I shared my vision of becoming a 'muscular gym guy,' painting a vivid picture of the next chapter in our family story.

For the first time in my life, I’m no longer ashamed to see myself in a photo. Every day, I wake up, dress, and gaze at my reflection in the mirror. The thin, fit guy staring back renews my confidence and boosts my energy; heck, it makes me feel like a freaking rockstar!

I’ve achieved all the results I’d hoped for and more. But my journey will never be complete. I never want to be “the big guy” again. I continue eating healthy and in modest portions. I get my steps in where I can and work out as much as possible. I’ve learned that 95% of this journey is diet and only 5% exercise. I prioritize diet first, followed by adequate sleep, and then exercise.

Reflecting on this transformative journey, a mosaic of memories, experiences, trials, and triumphs unfolds. Each piece, be it a moment of doubt, a hurdle overcome, or a milestone celebrated, coalesces into a vivid tapestry that reveals a story of dedication, perseverance, and metamorphosis. At the heart of this narrative is an unwavering truth: every ounce of effort, every second spent, and every challenge overcome was undeniably worth it.

This journey was not merely about losing weight or achieving a societal standard of beauty. It transcended those superficial metrics, grounding itself in the very essence of life and its invaluable moments. The work, the time, the heartaches, the frustrations - all pale in comparison to the end result: a healthier, revitalized version of myself. This renewed self is not simply fit or photogenic but is present for the myriad moments life promises.

What is the purpose of our existence if not to live, experience, and cherish every moment? This transformation has granted me the precious gift of extended life, a chance to bear witness to the milestones of those I hold dear. To see my children grow, evolve, graduate, embrace love, start their own families, and eventually watch my grandkids embark on similar journeys - these are privileges that cannot be quantified.

To anyone standing at the precipice of a similar journey, the path may seem daunting, the horizon distant, the journey arduous. But as someone who has tread that path, who has faced the storms and basked in the sunshine, I can assert with conviction that the destination makes every sacrifice worthwhile. As I stand here today, heart full of gratitude and spirit invigorated, I can't help but reiterate: every step, every moment, every challenge - undeniably, unequivocally worth it.

As I lay down my pen, I hope my story finds its way into the hands and hearts of those who need it the most. Whether published in renowned journals, shared in community groups, or passed on from one person to another, the medium matters little. What truly counts is the impact. If my narrative can inspire change, stir motivation, and breathe hope into a life, I’ll have realized my goal.