Big fat weight-loss odyssey
February 4, 2005
By Judy Gerstel
What could have been a tragedy for this Greek became
a triumph when the physician healed himself
We can all find inspiration and motivation in this
chronicle of facing up to reality.
Nick Yphantides was a big fat Greek.
How big?
How about size 60 pants.
How fat?
How about 476 pounds.
Before he hit the big five oh oh, the big fat Greek
set out on his odyssey.
The eight-month journey was a sabbatical, a road trip
and an homage to the sport he loves.
It was also — and this was the point of it —
a diet. A desperately serious, last-resort, no-turning-back,
weight-loss assault.
The big fat Greek lost 220 pounds. (Yes, in eight months.
No, no gastric bypass surgery.) And he found himself.
The odyssey, in the end, was one of self-exploration.
It's chronicled in a book called My Big Fat Greek Diet.
The book is worth reading because it's not just another
book about losing weight and Yphatides is not just another
fat man who found a way to get healthy before obesity
did him in.
Yphatides is a 39-year old practising physician in
San Diego, California.
He writes, "It was in medical school that I became
morbidly obese, medically defined as being at least
100 pounds overweight....I `rewarded' myself for studying
so hard."
In his early 30s, he was working 90 hours a week as
head of a public health clinic treating the uninsured
and the indigent.
"Nick had a lot of stress," explains his
father George, who also lives in San Diego but studied
social work at the University of Toronto in the early
1960s and served as lay chaplain at the Greek Bible
Church on Danforth Ave. "That I believe was part
of the reason (for putting on weight). But you cannot
throw the responsibility on the stress of the work.
He had a choice, too."
Five years ago, George Yphantides had a heart attack.
Then, in early 2001, his son, the doctor, became a
cancer patient.
Dr. Nick, the name he's known by, was diagnosed with
testicular cancer.
"Finally," says his father, "Nick decided,
`What is it to be successful when you have no life in
front of you?' So he put his priorities in order."
This is how Dr. Nick describes the first step on his
remarkable journey.
"I was pushed off the edge of the cliff."
In hindsight, he says you have to change the way you
see before you can change the way you look.
"To change my weight, I came to the conclusion
that I had to change my life," he says, speaking
by phone from San Diego and preparing to fly to Toronto
for a round of interviews and appearances. (See him
on Breakfast TV on Monday and Canada AM on Wednesday.)
"I am the prototypical guy who, in the past, would
have said to you, `I don't have time to exercise.' But
my shift in thinking has been so dramatic that, now,
I don't have time not to exercise."
It is, he emphasizes, "a matter of life and death.
There is such a direct connection between fitness and
longevity."
Dr. Nick says he was "literally eating myself
to death."
The consequences are more dire when the extra weight
is the 270 pounds he amassed, he acknowledges.
But, he emphasizes, that there are serious medical
consequences — blood pressure, sugar levels, strain
on joints — for people who are out of shape and
carrying around 20 or 30 extra pounds.
So, how did a grossly obese doctor deal with overweight
patients who needed to lose
weight?
"Do as I say, not as I do," he told them.
Besides, he writes, "My expanding girth actually
became an occupational blessing: My patients viewed
me as a larger-than-life advocate for the poor, the
big man with a big heart....Overweight patients loved
me."
And yet, how could someone so aware of the consequences
— a physician counselling patients about the dangers
of obesity and the necessity of weight loss —
let the scale get to 476 pounds?
As easily as any of us.
"Those who struggle with weight have their denial
skills very fine-tuned," he says. "We are
excellent at denial and at rationalization. That applies
to society as much as to me as an individual."
It's not that we don't know what to do, he says. Or
what has to be done. Or how to do it. It's getting what
he calls "the appropriate motivation and inspiration
— the ignition switch."
Dr. Nick hopes his story might be that ignition switch.
So modest he was shocked at first at the interest shown
in his weight-loss odyssey, he says, "I don't want
to sound like a megalomaniac, but I know of no other
physician who weighed as much as I did."
About other physicians who have written weight-loss
books, he says, "None of them wore size 60 pants.
The message I offer, as a physicians and a patient,
is pretty unique."
The first part of Dr. Nick's book, a lively read written
with a co-author who's a veteran collaborator, deals
with his background, his weight gain and the eight-month
sabbatical he undertook, leaving behind both his career
and all solid food.
He embarked on a tour of all the major league ballparks
in North America while, at the same time, going on a
liquid fast diet.
He calls the tour "a distraction from deprivation."
"One of the most liberating discoveries I made
on my odyssey, for a guy who couldn't imagine enjoying
himself without food, it was a very liberating experience
to discover for the first time in adult life that fun,
enjoyment and satisfaction could be had in the absence
of indulgence in food."
He highly recommends a "radical sabbatical"
for everyone embarking on a weight-loss regimen, even
if it's just for a week or a couple of long weekends.
But he doesn't necessarily recommend a liquid fast
diet (he won't identify the food replacement he used),
saying that his dire situation required drastic action.
He does say that anyone who opts for a liquid fast must
be closely monitored. And he's very skeptical about
gastric bypass surgery. Anyone even considering it must
read what he writes about the risks and side-effects.
Dr. Nick, big-boned and 6 foot 2, has maintained his
weight loss for more than three years.
Finally, he can say to the world, "Do as I say.
And do as I do."
And his father can say, when asked if he's proud of
his son, "The word is not proud. The word is thankful.
"I was very worried when he was heavy," says
George Yphantides. "My wife and I, we've been praying
for him and, finally, our prayer was answered."
Two years after he reached his weight-loss goal, Dr.
Nick proposed to "my sweet Despina" at a family
gathering and they were married in May.
"I had testicular cancer," he says, "and
six weeks from now, I'm going to become a father. Staying
in shape has become both an act of love as well as being
motivated by love. I want to be here for my child as
long as possible. I look at a plate of food and ask
myself, `Do I love this or do I love my child more?'"
Source:www.thestar.com
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