Just waiting....

Things have been quiet here lately.  I was supposed to have my endoscopy today, but late yesterday afternoon got a call that the Dr. wasn't going to be able to make his procedures today, so I have that rescheduled for February.  I do have my psych eval tomorrow.  I've had one before, so I pretty much know what to expect - though this is a different doctor so it may differ.  I've been down this road before, a few years ago, but never made it pas the psyche eval.  I wasn't ready back then.  I am more than ready now.  I know it in my heart this time.  So, I'm at a stand still.  Me, and my two blood pressure medications!  Yowzers.

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My brain is swimming....

Wow.  So, today I met with my bariatric surgeon.  My head feels like it's on information overload, but in a good way.  We discussed the vertical sleeve surgery, as well as gastric bypass.  I was completely sold on VSG.  I've been totally obsessed with watching YouTube videos of the surgeries, and I've been around on the message boards just obsessed with learning all I can about the sleeve.  This morning I was in the shower just randomly thinking, and it occurred to me how permanent the sleeve is.  Once they remove that 85% hunk of your stomach, it's gone forever.  You can never put it back, it's just gone.  What happen if something happens down the road and you need that part of your stomach for something?  What happens if you get something like stomach cancer?   What the hell do you do??  

Not that I'm totally swayed from having the sleeve...

We discussed both options and why both procedures are good options for me.  I'm still leaning towards the sleeve, but I do have to discuss things with my husband and figure out which one is for me.  The dr. did ask about heartburn.  I do have heartburn every so often, so I've got to have an endoscopy done to be sure there's no hernias or anything like that.  In that case, the roux-en-y is a better option for me.  I guess in mind, the sleeve is so simple; pop a few holes in my belly, staple my stomach, remove and recover.  With the roux-en-y, there's moving this and replacing that....it freaks me out.  But, I just need to educate, educate and educate!  

I left feeling good though.  When I got to the office, the dr. himself was at the front desk on the phone with a patient, and he just smiled at me and waved, just totally reassured me that I was at the right place.  He did indicate that per my health insurance, they do require a supervised diet.  Come to find out, they do consider Weight Watchers supervised, and I've done that so often...I just have to gather all my weight in books so we can submit that.  So, it was a good, educational day!  Now, I have tons to think about!

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Body Image

As a young child, I was always heavy.  My mom kept our kitchen pantry very well stocked with all sorts of snacks: potato chips, corn chips, nacho chips, all sorts of sugary cereals, snack cakes, pudding cups...  Why we had all this junk food was beyond me, but we did.

I was never ashamed of my body, or felt out of place until other people made me feel that way.  The two earliest memories I have of feeling bad about myself come courtesy of my mother.

When I was younger, I took dance lessons - tap, jazz and ballet.  This one year, we were doing this fun little jazz number for the dance recital and the costume the teacher picked out was these little shorts and a top...they fabric looked like it had been splatter painted.  We all loved them!  I remember my mother making a big stink out of the costume because "it's going to show your belly."  The tops were cropped a bit.  Of course, I didn't care.  These costumes were COOL!  All the girls in the glass loved them, me included.  But, I do recall we never did have those costumes.  I'm not sure if the teacher decided otherwise, or if my mother put up enough of a stink to change her mind.  But I remember feeling such shame over :::gasp::: my belly showing, that I became very self conscious about that body part.  

The second time my mother made me feel like shit was when I was getting ready for a school choir concert at school.  When I was younger, my mother would always tell me "you'll be the prettiest girl there."  We were standing in our half bathroom; I had my dress on and my mom was doing my hair.  I looked in the mirror and said "Mommy, I'll be the prettiest girl there."  And she said no.  She looked at me and said "no, Jane Watkins is a cute little girl, I think she may be the prettiest one there tonight."  I couldn't cry.  I couldn't do anything.  But I died a little that day.  And I know that sounds overly dramatic.  But I felt shame.  Shame that my mother thought so little of my physical appearance.  We should be boosting each other up, not dragging each other down.  I feel soooooo drug down.  I just want to feel good about myself again.

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Surgery

When I had my son, I had a c-section.  Shortly afterwards, I got a horrible infection.  I was so sick after having my baby.  I was in and out of the hospital a few times.  Finally, after my incision opened back up, my doctor decided to just leave my wound open and let it heal from the inside out.  After about two months, it was healing great, but it wasn't going to close on its own without a little help.  I wound up having surgery and they had to cut off a bit of skin and sew my back up.  I remember waking up in recovery and my father was there.  (This was strange in itself, because we have an awful and awkward relationship...but anyhow...)

When I woke up and my dad was there, I remember the nurse coming over to me and telling me how great I'd look after my surgery.  I thought it was a bit weird, but I said "really?"  She said of course, you're going to lose so much weight.  After a moment, she realized her mistake.  I wasn't a bariatric surgery patient.  The woman in the bed next to me was.  But my fat ass was mistaken for someone who needed weight loss surgery.  I was MORTIFIED.  Mortified that she mistook me for someone who would need weight loss surgery.  I was embarrassed that she said so in front of my father (who agreed with the nurse).  I just remember feeling like crap.

All my life, people have tried to get me to lose weight.  And I've never taken it as a positive. I've always taken it as them not loving me for how I am.  I've had my grandparents beg me to go to Weight Watchers when I was in high school.  The same grandparents tried to bribe me with money or a new wardrobe if I only lost weight.  I had family members criticize me for every bite of food I'd put into my mouth.  I had family cook holiday dinners but tell me I wasn't to eat with them because I didn't need to.  My father used to make me cook foods, or make snacks for my brother but tell me I couldn't have them, because I didn't need them.  Well no shit.  I know I didn't need them.  But to be told by someone else you don't need them...it's hurtful.  I have shut pretty much my entire family out of my life because of how they look at me...how they treat me...how they talk to me or about me about my weight.  It's so hurtful.  Those wounds cut so deep.  More do than the bullies in school who made me so fearful to eat in public, because I knew I'd get picked on, that I'd eat lunch in the bathroom.  Eating where people are shitting.  Class.

Anyhow, it just brings me to my decision to have this surgery.  It's for no one but me.  Not for my family,  not for my friends, not for anyone else.  Just me.  

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Birthday

Today is my son's birthday.  One decade old.  It hardly seems possible.  How quickly a decade can fly by! I swear I just held him in my arms for the very first time.  Child rearing is so very bittersweet.

I've been very anxious lately.  My appointment with my surgeon is next week, but I want it to be right now.  I am very anxious to start the rest of my life. Of course, I have all these anxieties and fears. Will I be too fat for weight loss surgery? Will my insurance deny me? I haven't ever really been a dr. supervised diet.  Every time I went to my dr. she would ask me what my weight loss plan was, and I always spouted off something to get off topic, but I was never officially put a diet by my dr., so now I'm scared that I'll have to wait six months and be put on a diet and I don't want that.  I don't want to wait that long.  I want my surgery yesterday!  When you realize that you want something, you want it right now, know what I mean?

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Epiphany

So this morning I'm driving to work, eating a frozen Bob Evans English muffin with sausage on it (I removed the cheese and egg, because I don't like those), and I had an epiphany.  It's like a million light bulbs went off in my mind, all at once.  As I was driving, I couldn't help but think "Wow, I'd love a Tim Horton's cafe mocha to go with this".  *side note, I did stop for my cafe mocha.  And something odd happened, but I'll get to that later.

I got to thinking about carbs, and my love for them.  My four favorite things to consume are breads, pasta, rice and potatoes.  I love them all.  Sooooo much.  I've always grown up having one of these as a side dish to my meal, and as an adult, have carried on with that practice.  I could eat potatoes by the pound.  Bread?  Love it.  There is an amazing bakery right near where I work and sometimes I leave and smell the bread and I just lose it because the smell is intoxicating.  Rice?  Can't get enough.  Pasta?  I'm Italian.  Need I say more?

Then I got to thinking about how much bad they do.  They spike my blood sugar and then I'm hungry soon after.  They make me want more carbs.  They're just bad.  With all the research I'm doing on this surgery, I realize that my diet is going to be pretty much nothing but protein and liquids for quite some time.  Protein.  And liquid.  Not breads.  Or pastas.  Or rices.  Or pizzas.  Or potatoes.  First, I felt panic.  Then, reality set in.  And then, ready for it?  :::drumroll::: It all occurred to me.  Carbs and my sick love for them have made me the huge fat person that I am today.  Granted, I eat sweets and overeat in general, but its the carbs that have done the most damage.  

I promise this is all going somewhere...

A majority of the relationships that I have been in have been abusive.  Whether it was emotional, physical or verbal...most relationships with men have just been destructive.  It took me YEARS to realize hey, I don't need this bullshit, I don't want this bullshit and I sure as hell don't deserve this bullshit.  I have struggled so much with trying to realize my own sense of self-worth.  I let so many people dictate that for me.  But I finally took the power back and now *I* make the decisions for my life.  Anyhow...(I feel so long-winded today!!), I decided that carbs are like an abusive relationship.  They're no good, and they've been holding me hostage for far too long.  I have the power to overcome my addition to them.  I have the power to say no!  Carbs don't hold the power over me, I hold the power over them.  Fuck carbs!

And back to my thing about coffee.  Since I started considering this surgery, things have been strange for me.  I am looking at food and drink so differently now.  Like this morning.  I was craving a warm, chocolatey rich drink.  And my drink was just so acidic I couldn't finish it.  I don't know if it was all in my mind, or what.  But I thought it was interesting how it was just like drinking acid in my mind.

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So here's the thing....

Talking about my weight is difficult.  Super difficult.  I had one relationship with a guy that was awful.  Just really abusive.  I remember one time, right after we had an intimate moment together, he sat there and looked at me, in my most vulnerable state and told me how disgusting my arms were.  They were too flabby, and I needed to do something about it.  And me, with my low-self esteem (and having just gotten out of an equally abusive marriage) thought well, he's right.  And I actually thought at that point in time that all relationships are supposed to be abusive, because that's all I knew at the time.  I remember him telling me that he'd ask me to marry him (which I wanted desperately at that time - I truly thought he was "the one), if I would go on the Biggest Loser show with him.  *Here's what really pisses me off too!  I used to LOVE watching that show, and found it so very inspirational.  But I can no longer watch it.  Even seeing commercials for it now makes me cringe, and I'm scared to death to watch it with my husband now, because I'm so scared he will leave me if I don't go on that show!

So, talking about my weight just freaks me out.  My husband now tells me I'm sexy, tells me he loves me how I look, and just wants me to be happy and healthy.  But me talking to him about my body is just---ick.  I hate it.  Hate it so much.  So tonight, we're standing in the kitchen and he says to me "so which surgery were you thinking of having?  The band?  Gastric bypass?"  It was so out of the blue that I was literally stunned for a moment and had to ask him "Why are you asking me this?"  His answer was quite justified.  "Because I'm your husband and I want to know."  When I told him I was wanting to get the vertical sleeve he told me he hadn't heard of it. Truth be told, I hadn't heard of it either, until I started doing my research.  When I told him that they remove 80-85% of your stomach, his eyes grew really big and he looked shock.  I'm sure he's thinking I'm crazy.  Hell, I think I'm crazy.  But the surgery is done laproscopically and I'm not afraid. 

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Cravings

I think one of the biggest obstacles I will need help overcoming is how to deal with food cravings.  Obviously, once I'm sleeved, I won't be able to hit Five Guys and have a big ass burger and a large fry.  Nor will I be able to go to Chipotle and have a big fajita bowl and bag of chips.  My stomach won't hold that volume of food.  I can try to pack it in, but I'll vomit.  Or worse, tear my new sleeve and develop a leak.  The silly thing is, I don't even know why I'm already worrying about this, because I haven't even met with my surgeon yet.  But, they are things that are in the back of my mind.

Take for instance tonight.  We ate leftover pizza for dinner.  I made my lunch for work tomorrow (chicken salad with celery and lite mayo, whole grain bread, celery stick and cherry tomatoes, a handful of triscuits, and sugar free jello).  And then, I had this wicked craving for chocolate.  Perhaps I'm getting ready to start - it's a very good possibility.  But the craving was just awful until I ate some chocolate.  This is something I'm going to have to work on...big time.

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Reasons

So, I've thought long and hard about weight loss surgery, obviously.  It wasn't a decision that I ever came to easily.  As a matter of fact, I've gone over this decision in my head time and time and time again.  A few years ago I contacted a surgeon's office to begin the process.  I never saw the surgeon, but I did go to the psychiatric evaluation and he pretty much talked me out of it.  I hadn't done my research at that time.  I hadn't even considered all of the things I'd have to give up, or how hard I've to work.  I remember the doctor asking me if I could give up my Diet Coke.  Like seriously?  What he insane?  Hell no I couldn't give that up.

And now?  I am so ready.  I'm ready to give up my Tim Horton's breakfasts.  I'm ready to give up McDonald's and Burger King and Arby's.  I'm ready to give up my once-a-week pizza eating habit.  My Buffalo chicken.  My loaded french fries.  My fried pickles.  My mocha cappucinos.  All the bad, fattening, disgusting poison I've been feeding myself will kill me.  KILL me.  I might as well suck on a loaded gun.

So, yea.  This wasn't an easy decision to make.  I thought about all the times I have dieted and failed.  Slim Fast.  Diet pills.  Starvation.  Counting calories...carbs...protein...salt...whatever...I've done it.  I've done the gym.  I've done Tae Bo.  I've done Walk Away the  Pounds.  I've done Zumba on my Playstation.  I've tried and tried and tried and failed and failed and failed.  And I don't want to die.  I don't want to stroke out, or have a heart attack or anything like that.  I want to be around a very long time.  For myself.  For my son.  For my husband.  

A hard decision, definitely.  But it's the right decision for me.

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Getting Shit Done

I haven't been able to stop thinking about my impending possible weight loss surgery.  I came home from work today and called the surgeons office to see if I could get the ball rolling on some other things.  January 8th I got to my primary care physician for a physical including blood work.  January 16th I attend the mandatory weight loss seminar at a local hospital.  January 23rd I meet with the surgeon and a week later I'll meet with another doctor to have my psych evaluation.  I'll also get a script to meet with a nutritionist.  I'm so excited, nervous and anxious!

I need to find the right balance of foods to eat.  This morning for breakfast, I ate a frozen Bob Evans sausage muffin, removing the egg and cheese because I don't like those.  For my morning snack at work I took a fruit salad.  By lunch time, my tummy was rumbling.  I ate a small salad and then an 80 calorie packet of tuna fish.  I wound up getting a migraine from not eating enough and not having any caffeine.  Also, I was off of work for two weeks and got to sleep in, and today it was back to the daily grind and back to waking up at 6.  I am possibly more excited about meeting with the nutritionist than anything else!

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3 More Weeks....

I've got just 3 weeks and 1 day until my appointment with my surgeon.  Can you tell I'm anxious?  I have never wanted anything more than to have this surgery done.  I am so tired of living my life like this.  I packed my snack and lunch for work tomorrow.  My 10 am snack is a fruit salad consisting of 5 strawberries, 2 slices of kiwi, a handful of blackberries and a handful of blueberries.  For lunch I packed 1/2 cup romaine lettuce, 1/2 cup spinach, and a few slices of cucumber and grape tomatoes, along with a tuna packet.  Sounds pretty healthy, right?  Also, my husband and I are going back to the gym tomorrow.  Anxious for this too. 

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