Virtual gastric banding claims to offer weight reduction without surgery – using only the power of the mind. Steve Kilgallon followed one woman's remarkable six-month journey through hypnosis, and losing 30kg.

When Cecilia had her gastric band surgery, it all happened in the front room of a weatherboard house just outside Hamilton. She heard the electronic beep of the monitors, and the voices of the surgeons. But an hour later, she could walk out and go back to work.

Such operations usually cost $25,000, accompanied by a hospital stay, heavy medication and several weeks of recovery.

But Cecilia's gastric band surgery cost less than $1000, and was conducted by a hypnotherapist, not a bariatric surgeon.

In real gastric band surgery, a silicone band is wrapped around part of the patient's stomach, controlling their capacity to eat and thus causing weight loss. In a procedure called Virtual Gastric Banding (VGB), they are hypnotised into believing they have such a band.

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Clinical hypnotherapist Sheryl Murray has conducted about 300 such 'surgeries'. She's used hypnotherapy to treat nail biters and heavy drinkers, insomniacs and nervous fliers, but in recent years VGB has become her core business.

Her five-session programme (about eight hours all up), with supporting recordings and resources, costs $920. Does it work? Murray, of course, is confident it does – if you put the work in. Or as her favourite phrase goes: "Hypnosis is very magical, but it is not a magic wand."

'I EXPLODED!'

KELLY HODEL/STUFF Cecilia says she feels happier and healthier - and has a new goal after six months of hypnotherapy.

Cecilia taps on her phone, opens Facebook, and finds a photo of herself aged 22. She's tall and slim. She laughs. "And then I sort of exploded."

It was, she says, the two OEs that did it. South African born, she spent long spells in the US and in Scotland ("I don't think I knew what drinking was until I got there") and slowly gained weight.

She recalls her father meeting her at Johannesburg airport on a trip home and doing a double-take.

She figured that as lifestyle caused her weight gain, it could also bring her weight loss: when she decided to move to New Zealand she thought an outdoors life would beckon. Instead, she kept living the good life.

She didn't bother bringing a lot of possessions from South Africa, so bought new clothes, a size up from before. Then for her winter wardrobe, she went up another size. "And then one day, it's 'dang, I am up four sizes from where I started'. And it is purely lifestyle, that's the horrible thing."

Cecilia is a sonographer, and as you'd expect from a medical professional, took a calmly practical approach to solving her problem.

She considered an actual gastric band, but didn't like the idea of unnecessary surgery.

So she researched virtual banding, researched hypnotherapists, and received two separate recommendations to visit Sheryl Murray. Normally, she'd "roll her eyes" at alternative therapy, and was fully aware that there was a placebo effect at work. But having tried all the diets, she couldn't summon up more willpower. Instead, she wanted her subconscious to take on the heavy lifting. "I am in the health industry, I know what I should be doing," she said. "But it is so hard."

Did she think it would work? "I think so. I am going to give it a really good go. I am 38: I don't want to go into my 40s overweight."

Cecilia is typical, says Murray. Often a last resort, Murray's clients tend to be highly motivated. "Most have been on every diet under the sun, taken every diet pill," she says. "This is not their first time trying to shed some weight."

A handful, she says, turn up just wanting to look better. She thinks that's not enough. "I try to encourage something more out of them. I do believe, long term, there needs to be something a little more." So if there's grandchildren, she'll ask about what it's like playing with them, and gain an admission that it would be nice to get up off the floor a bit easier.

Several hypnotherapists appear to have devised virtual gastric band programmes, but Murray has, for the last four years, followed a course invented by a British practitioner named Sheila Granger, author of an Amazon bestseller called No More Diets!

The sales pitch is no quick fix, but long-term loss. Murray says you might drop weight on a 12-week diet challenge. But can you sustain it? Her clients are instructed to set realistic and distant goals – perhaps a year away.

Around the hypnosis and the 'band' is wrapped subtle, commonsense lifestyle coaching – making time to exercise, cutting sugar, choosing healthier options, drinking water. No food is forbidden, Murray says. "You get told you can't eat something, you put it on a pedestal. With a diet, when you want something, you find a way to get it."

But the magic part appears to be a dramatic reduction in appetite. "I feel this is a safer option," she says. "It's a slower reduction, but they still get to enjoy life ... I tell them to get used to taking a doggy-bag home from a restaurant."

HOOKED ON A FEELING

KELLY HODEL/STUFF Before: Cecilia said she had tried everything before resorting to the VGB treatment.

I want to give hypnotherapy a go myself. Murray wants to make one thing really clear before we start. She's not a stage hypnotist. She's not going to make anyone impersonate a chicken; she assures nervous clients she won't make them do anything, or give up their darkest secrets if they don't want to. She heartily dislikes TV cop shows where people are hypnotised into telling the truth. In New Zealand, the word 'hypnotist' is never used: they are hypnotherapists.

Murray works from home in a neat villa in farmland just outside Hamilton, her office walls lined with framed certificates, the bookshelves with self-help manuals.

She sits behind a desk and her clients sit in a reclining armchair by the window, close their eyes, and listen.

I have to start counting backwards in my head from 100. Her usual cheerful, mellifluous voice drops to a flat, repetitive monotone, telling me I'm going deeper, deeper into a relaxing sleep.

The first time, I count down to 60-something, but I begin faltering sooner and sooner. My arms and legs feel heavy, and a feeling of drowsy serenity descends (although I am capable of falling asleep anywhere at any time, so I'm perhaps not a representative citizen).

I can hear the birds on the trees outside and the cars passing by on the road. I feel I'd be able to break out of the trance if I wanted, but I'm so relaxed that I'm happy to stay in it. I pay attention to everything Murray says. But when she brings me back out of hypnosis after 20 minutes, I can only remember snatched phrases and a general sense of what she's talked about – mainly reassurances that I am a good person. Cecilia had the same experience: "It's the oddest thing [that she can't remember], because I was really attuned to her, I was listening".

I do feel magnificent though, full of energy, quite upbeat and positive. If you've got small children, it feels something like having a long, uninterrupted night's sleep, or maybe a really good massage. I'm warned the effect will wear off quickly, and it does. But I can see how it could become addictive.

Even one session, though, appeared to have an impact on Cecilia. On her first visit, she and Murray talked for an hour about her eating, why she was overweight and why the diets had failed. Then she had her first taste of being hypnotised. From that night, she says, she began eating smaller portions and shunning desert. "I just ate less… it's the weirdest thing."

Some hypnotherapists, say Murray, would apply the band in session one. Not her. She's keen to understand her client first, introduce hypnosis and relaxation exercises to remove stress, build some confidence and self-esteem. She looks across the room. "It's like painting that windowsill. If I slap a nice coat of paint on top, it would look good for a couple of months, then start to bubble and crack, because underneath it's still the old windowsill." Let's call session one the sanding and undercoat.

Murray sent Cecilia away with some tapes to listen to every morning and evening. Cecilia sat on her bed, closed the door, put on earphones and listened. "She talks to you in this real monotone voice," she explained, "and you sort of go under a little bit."

I listened to one: it's 11 minutes, 10 seconds of pure feel-goodness.

"You are about to experience the wonderful feeling of calmness in your mind, and relaxation throughout your body," intones Murray's disembodied voice, which then asks that we ensure we're warm, comfortable, have our eyes closed, and repeat silently in our minds each phrase she says.

"I am going to relax myself," she says, before beginning a slow countdown from five. Already I am feeling drowsy, but I need to take notes for this story, so I resist the siren call and listen along with eyes open. At the end, she tells us we feel full of energy and vitality, counts us back out from five, with three deep breaths, and says: "Enjoy the day ahead, and smile." It's lovely.

IS IT GUARANTEED? NO

KELLY HODEL/STUFF Before: Cecilia says her weight gain was gradual, so she had the same expectations for her weight loss.

In a gentle Hull accent, UK-based Sheila Granger explains how she went from working as a benefit fraud investigator to overseeing probably the world's largest virtual gastric band programme, one now delivered by 2500 practitioners, including Murray, in 16 countries.

After becoming a hypnotherapist, she worked from a doctor's surgery, and realised a growing proportion of her work was weight loss therapy. On first pass, she dismissed a story about a Spanish clinic offering a 'gastric band of the mind' as a con job. But she became intrigued and organised a trial programme of her own, offering free treatment to 25 volunteers, and inviting the media to observe. It was only a three-week programme, but 23 of the 25 reported back positively; two cancelled bariatric surgery as a result. Granger was swamped with inquiries, and developed a full four-session scheme.

Granger says that yes, there's a proportion of highly-suggestible people for whom simply imagining the surgery is enough to bring change. One client, for example, lost 63kg, but phoned her one Christmas, worried she would over-eat, and asked her to tighten the band. Granger ran a session with her, and the next day received a text message: "How tight have you made it? I can hardly eat anything at all."

Supplied Virtual gastric band pioneer Sheila Granger.

But for most who sign up, she says, the band is just one part of restoring the foundations of healthy eating. "Our body has the answers – if we will listen to it," she says. "If we've got a pain in our foot, we don't walk on it for a bit, we listen and respond. But when it comes to eating we have completely switched off. People eat when they are not hungry, they eat because they are happy or sad – we have a lot of associations formed with our food."

It isn't rocket science, she says. It's eat less, exercise more. We all know it, but underlying habits undermine it. "Is it guaranteed to work? Absolutely not," she says. But for the "vast majority" it will: she claims as many as 95 per cent of clients see success.

ALL ABOUT IMAGINATION

KELLY HODEL/STUFF Before: Cecilia early in the process of her virtual gastric band therapy.

Murray is worried having me in the room will affect Cecilia's 'banding' operation and steal some of the surprise element from potential subjects reading the story. I suspect she's also worried about the sort of people who self-diagnose their medical issues on Google attempting to self-medicate their own virtual band.

But I do know that the process is the same: Cecilia sits in the comfy chair, feet up, blanket on lap, and is hypnotised. Only this time, Murray tells her she's being taken into the operating theatre (with some suitable sound effects of trolleys clanking and machines beeping) and talks her through the operation. "It was really eerie," says Cecilia later. "It really felt like you were in an operation."

Most clients do feel a bit shocked after the banding, says Murray. "[They think] 'it's not tangible, I know I've not actually been to a hospital – but it's working'..."

Initially, says Sheila Granger, her course provided all the sounds and smells of an operating theatre, thinking it would enhance the experience.

She heard of one guy in Australia who converted his therapy room to a full theatre, wore hospital greens and told patients not to eat for four hours beforehand.

But over time, she realised most of it wasn't necessary: it was all about imagination. "The more we get the person to create the experience themselves, the more successful they will be," she says.

Immediately afterwards, Cecilia felt drained, but in the days that followed felt good. Some patients report a sensation of tightness around their midriff. She didn't, but did develop a nauseous feeling if she began to over-eat; at each subsequent meal, her portion size would get smaller and smaller.

She became used to taking her leftovers home from restaurants; and then, assessing them frankly the next day, tossing them out uneaten. She cleared her pantry shelves of unwanted food. She was listening to a recording every day 'reminding' her of her band. She was feeling great.

Two weeks later, she was back in the armchair. She'd been out for dinner the night before, and eaten only a starter. She was taking porridge oats to work for breakfast, shunning the work canteen for lunch and eating tuna, crackers and fruit. She didn't crave lollies any more, she didn't eat seconds.

Across the room, I sat making notes, trying to be invisible, a dispassionate observer, but secretly thinking: "This sounds brilliant."

This time, the hypnosis was about pushing some key messaging: that Cecilia was 'happy' to eat three small meals, that she felt 'satisfied' when full. That she could recognise 'real' hunger from 'emotional' hunger, and disregard the latter.

Afterwards, as usual, she can remember little of this, but retains a lingering sense she's been told something important: "I know there's things in there I'm going 'oh yes, that will work'."

Cecilia knows that in the counselling parts, where she is conscious, she's not really hearing anything new, but Murray seems to have an air of authority for her that means it is sinking in.

She's decided she's developed a weird relationship with food she needs to bring to heel. It seems to be working. Murray reckons it takes 28 days to change your programming: we're now a few days shy of that mark.

DOES IT WORK, AND HOW DOES IT WORK?

KELLY HODEL/STUFF Hypnotherapist Sheryl Murray with Cecilia in her Hamilton practice.

Len Milling, a clinical psychologist and professor of psychology at the University of Hartford in the US told Time magazine: "If you asked 10 hypnosis experts how hypnosis works, you would probably get 10 different explanations."

Murray's explanation is that she's offering the subconscious mind a "different set of suggestions", repeated so often they become "set" and override any previous thought patterns that might derail weight loss. The subconscious, then, should serve up these suggestions to the conscious mind at crucial moments, such as reaching for the biscuit tin.

"You're already asking for help," she points out, "so you're willing to receive suggestions. You've consciously decided to change. So it is just helping your subconscious to get on the same page."

The thing is, says clinical psychologist Dr Liesje Donkin, there's not been much medical research into what hypnotherapy does to your brain, or even how effective it really is. In part, that's because there's no standardised approach, which makes measuring it difficult and most evidence, therefore, anecdotal.

Donkin, a senior lecturer at Auckland University's school of medicine and a specialist in eating disorders, has read several studies which cast doubt on hypnotherapy as a successful, long-term choice of therapy.

But she suggests an open mind: she mentions a form of psychotherapy devised in the 1980s called eye movement desensitisation and re-programming (EMDR), initially dismissed as quackery but since found to work effectively as a way of re-programming yourself.

Supplied Clinical psychologist Liesje Donkin

The key, she says, is most likely in your buy-in: it's the effect of seeing a doctor's white coat, and instantly giving them credibility. "Belief systems are powerful. If we 100 per cent believe in something, that can be effective … not around things like curing cancer, which we have no control of, but in your own behaviour."

For most such therapies, she says, doing your homework, feeling motivated and engaged and believing in your clinician have a positive impact. Donkin says hypnotherapy also shares two key components which have been seen to work: the first is entering a trance-like state of deep relaxation, and the other is the use of repeated mantras.

And in this case, she says, there's another unique factor: me. Simply the fact I've followed Cecilia for this story will have offered motivation. Of course, she says, I should follow her for five years for that to have full benefit.

KELLY HODEL/STUFF After: Cecilia six months later. She's lost 30 kilograms.

The hypnosis is only part of the VGB package – dietary advice is the rest.

In general, says dietician Liz Goodall – who works with bariatric surgery patients – diets don't work. Goodall admits to being a cynic: her patients have tried every diet possible before paying for surgery.

She also has her doubts about VGB: "It's a relatively low-risk intervention, and if it works for someone, great," she says. "It's a lot less invasive and cheaper than actual bariatric surgery: but I am a bit dubious about it's long-term efficacy."

In general, VGB's messages about food are okay: she agrees with the basic tenets of three small meals, cutting snacks and sugar and increasing exercise (although she says VGB should be promoting a high protein diet, rather than allowing clients to eat what they choose).

But she can see holes in the programme which suggests it may not work longer-term. For example, where emotional eating is linked to a history of being abused, she thinks a psychologist would have more impact than a hypnotherapist.

She says VGB likewise would have no impact on the hormonal issues which come with increased weight. And while bariatric patients have some clear physical deterrents to over-eating – pain and vomiting – she's not sure VGB has the same disincentives: "Everyone pushes the boundaries, after a few months; I'm interested if someone after VGB pushes the boundaries, they would probably find they would get away with it."

'I CHOOSE TO LISTEN TO MY BAND'

KELLY HODEL/STUFF Sheryl Murray says Cecilia was a good student: she did her homework and stuck to the rules.

It's a bright September day in Hamilton, and all three of us are back in the comforting confines of Murray's office, only Cecilia is hypnotised, so in her mind, she's in a cinema, and then strolling through a park.

A big part of VGB, says Murray, is visualisation. In Cecilia's fourth session with her, she's put her under to run an exercise which seems designed to make the client let go of any final doubts about the programme.

A spiel about "velvety soft breathing" hypnotises Cecilia, before Murray guides her into an imaginary cinema. On the screen, she sees an image of herself at her target weight, wearing her dream summer dress, "full of energy, and life and confidence, the shape and size you want to be".

Present Cecilia sits and watches Future Cecilia on the screen, then is invited to jump in and experience what it feels like. "That future is there and waiting for you and is so easy to achieve," says Murray, adding in another push for three small meals, the helpful effects of the band, and listening to the messages from her stomach. "Food is no longer your drug of choice."

The cinema scene fades, and now Cecilia is walking through a park, and approaching a balloon seller. She buys three, takes them to a park bench, and writes on them any hang-ups that might be holding her back, then releases them into the sky. "Freedom," says Murray, "because you are free now."

Then she slowly brings Cecilia back out of hypnosis. I've been sitting, listening, half in a trance myself. For her part, Murray has forgotten I'm there, she's been so invested. "I love that session," she says, "I get so animated doing it."

She won't, she says, ask clients what it is they write on the balloons. "Sometimes it is quite personal, and things we may not want to admit."

Murray is starting to prepare to cut the apron strings. She's taught Cecilia how to self-hypnotise, and to deliver 'affirmations' (must be positive; must be present tense) to herself while in that state. She suggests some: "I don't want to drink too much". "I am happy drinking small amounts". "I choose to listen to my band".

"Saying something while in hypnosis is 100 times more powerful than saying it to yourself in a waking state," she declares.

Cecilia's looming Christmas break is playing on her mind. "Wherever you are in the world, your mind knows what you need," pronounces Murray, and she looks comforted.

A HAPPY ENDING

KELLY HODEL/STUFF Cecilia says she will keep using the recordings and the self-hypnosis to stay on track.

In December, Cecilia heads home to South Africa for five weeks, where the temptations of food, booze and family gatherings suggest a potential roadblock, which would help set up some dramatic tension in this story. She departs with some wise strategies: to drink vodka and soda, and keep topping up the soda; or accepting a wine, but adding more and more ice to it (she winces, but says that's the South African way).

But this story doesn't have your traditional three-act structure: it turns out there's no conflict or setback in the middle, because Cecilia has proven to be an enthusiastic and model student who does her homework, and stops snacking, and eating sugar, and cuts her portion sizes. Instead, it's a rather joyful journey to weight loss.

She returns home in January without gaining any weight – and indeed, with a revised and more ambitious goal. She's a little disappointed to have stayed still, but Murray is stoked. They've had a final chat, and Cecilia is on her own now.

She's already hit her original 30kg weight loss target, bought smaller clothes, and now she wants to lose another 20. She's still using the tapes as a daily comfort blanket, but says: "I think the hypnosis thing is a good aid. But it's still about making those decisions every day. I quite liked Sheryl's little tips more than the band itself; they've been a constant reminder."

Murray, meanwhile, has her own surprise for me. She's undergoing the VGB programme herself, with Skype calls to Granger in northern England. She's cut out late night snacks, and is enjoying doing everything her pupils would: "I've had to pay the same as everyone else, experience it the same as everyone else," she says.

Murray and Cecilia, to my observation, have grown close. I think Murray likes Cecilia's relentless good humour and the effort she's expended, and I think Cecilia, sees Murray, whom she describes as a font of "very sage advice", as something of a big sister.

But the hypnotherapy business model doesn't really rely on repeat business. Unless a traumatic experience throws them off course, Murray never hears from most of her clients ever again, and she takes that as good feedback: like children's television hero The Littlest Hobo, if they don't need her, then her work is done. "I like to say goodbye in the last session," she says. "And think 'they will do good', they've got all the tools."