Just Solve A Problem

Just Solve a Problem

John Paul Derryberry and Steve Smith

Steve Smith was two years ahead of me in school, but he often invited me to hang out with him.  Do you remember how cool you felt when the older kids asked you to hang out? Well, Steve did that on numerous occasions. We played tennis in his driveway in junior high. After my dad passed away, he gave me a ride to school, and he cheered, "we want Derryberry" at a couple of varsity basketball games.  But the most ingrained memory I have of Steve is when a mutual friend, he and I, attempted to sleep in a tent in his backyard without adults around to calm our fears.

We lasted until the first nocturnal animal snapped a twig close enough to cause noise in our tent to spook us. Then, all three of us bolted for the safety of sleeping in Steve's basement.  One could argue we took the easy way out. Instead of investigating the origin of the sound, calming our fears, and toughing it out, we ran away.  And wouldn't our American culture wag its finger at us for taking the easy way out? A concept that, as I have grown older, I understand to be flawed.  Sometimes the best solution is the easy way out, sometimes simple is best. I train folks on the idea that our job is to make life easier for people and more fulfilled. Who cares if it's an easy solution? Just solve the problem.

Not camping out in Steve's backyard didn't stunt my growth or love of camping. I backpack a lot and still get freaked out about sounds in the night; it's why the bear mace is always within arms' reach on those overnight trips. But recently, Steve shared a vulnerable journey to better himself, and a statement caught my eye in his passage. Steve wrote, "Many told me I was taking the easy way out..." So, I invited Steve to describe why he chose to better his life and how maybe it was or wasn't the easy way out. But, it was more than likely a solution that allowed him to be healthier and feel better about who he is.

There is no wrong or right way to react to a person telling you your life is teetering eerily close to tumbling off a cliff.  When my doctor informed me that my weight gain (over 20 years) was putting my life in danger, it jolted me.  I always knew my weight, at my heaviest 477 lbs., was a severe threat, but I laughed it off.  I more than embraced the "lovable fat guy" persona; I perfected it.  No one, including the person I love most in the world, truly knew how deeply depressed I was inside.  I knew my genuine feelings would not be something many others would understand.  I was typecast by my weight and personality, just like many characters on a TV show.

After walking out of that appointment, I waited six months to get up the nerve to share how I felt with my wife and best friend, Dawn.  At that moment, I had decided that I wanted to do something that would put not only my appearance but also my feelings on full display. Honestly, it was possibly the hardest thing I had ever had to do in life.  It was the first of many difficult decisions that I had to make over the next two years. My hopes rested on these complex decisions that would result in a healthier life.

When it comes down to making decisions that directly affect you, it is essential to remember sometimes doing a selfish deed is necessary.  Had I listened to others, I may still be living a life at nearly 500 pounds or worse. Instead, I did what so many others are either too scared to do or are just too stubborn to do.  I declared I would do what was best for me.   I implore you to try it. Liberation can occur in your world when doing something for yourself makes life better, and easier too.  Sure, I navigated potential hazards along the way, but in the end, the result mattered most.  

Weight loss was something that I had wanted for so long…. whether it was the easy way or the hard way, and I permitted myself to take what others considered the easy way out.  I decided to undergo a bariatric procedure known as a Vertical Sleeve Gastrectomy. With this procedure, I would have upwards of 85% of my stomach removed with the hopes of improving my overall health while losing weight. I had wanted to do this for at least 12 years, but after slipping into a mild depression, I decided it was time to take control of my life.

Some in my circle stated this would "be the easy way out", but I can tell you of all the things I have done in my life, nothing has pushed me physically, emotionally, and spiritually like this. To say that I am a better person one year later is a slam dunk certainty. Owning how I came to this spot in life is important. I had some lousy life habits. I take full ownership that I brought all of these things onto myself. Don't we all? In today's society, where many blame someone else, I did not value myself. It was me that was only thinking of himself when I had four beautiful and talented people in my life that needed me. It's important to know what you're responsible for, and I was responsible for this.

I knew that taking care of myself was going to be difficult. With the goal set to be healthier, I chose the path of least resistance. Some would wrongfully state it was the easy way out. I would counter the fact that none of this was easy, and judging another health journey instead of supporting it is odd. I went to see a doctor. We worked a path together that would get the results that I desired. I have lost 165 pounds since my surgery date. I am even happier to report that my last blood pressure reading was 118/78- healthy outcomes for the choices I'm making now. I did not value all the good things that I had in my life enough to make changes. It takes effort to be that negligent.

I am most grateful for Dawn and the kids. As hard as this was for me, it was nearly as hard on them. Honesty among loved ones is always challenging, and the changes to my routine affected their routine. But they did it with me, and maybe that's another reason to select the path of least resistance. We don't ever make choices in a vacuum. They ripple across our families.

Little did I know the weight loss would clear up my eyesight as I see things far more clearly now. The one thing that I know that is a certainty is that easy for one is not easy for all. And finding our worth to others, to our loved ones, ourselves, isn't always at the end of some treacherous journey. Sometimes it's finding the courage to look in the mirror and tell ourselves, go ahead, healthily solve your problem, who cares about its

Steve's journey should continue to remind us there are no easy ways, that life-altering choices are always complex internally and externally. We should embrace others who dare to grow with support and compassion, not an eye roll about opting for a medical procedure or a solution we deemed as an easy way out. I want to thank Steve for his vulnerability in sharing his story. More people in our culture should embrace the journey to a healthier lifestyle and the sharing of the journey with others. All I know is: easy or hard, I am happy Steve took steps to solve a problem. I bet we would last all night in a tent in his backyard now! Growth, baby, life should always be about growth!