Waiting is KILLING me!!

So I'm still waiting to hear from my doctor and insurance company to see if I'm approved for my surgery.  I called and spoke to someone at my insurance company and I was afraid I'd be bothering them, but the woman I spoke to was fabulous.  She said perhaps by Friday I'll hear something.  I'm more nervous about two weeks on protein shakes than I am the actual surgery.  This morning I made one of the cappucino Bariatric Fusion shakes, took one sip, and poured it down the drink.  It was fucking HORRIBLE.  If I can get through approval, and the liver reduction diet, I will be golden!


I saw my surgeon today.  I fucking gained 4 pounds since my last visit.  Yep.  Month 3 of my supervised diet and my fat ass gains.  Wonderful.  Anyhow, we discussed eating 1000 calories or under until my 2-week liver reduction diet, eating on smaller plates, and following the 20-20-20 rule.  It goes like this:  cut your food into 20 pieces, chew each piece 20 times, and wait 20 seconds between bites.  Also, we submitted to insurance for approval.  I should be more excited, but every time I get excited for something, it turns to shit.  So...I'm just cautiously optimistic.  I NEED to have this surgery to save my life.  I hope my insurance company can see that.  I have high blood pressure.  I have high cholesterol.  I have borderline high blood sugar.  I have PCOS and infertility.  I have back problems.  They have to see how much I need this.  I pray to God they see how much I need this.  This is it for me; my last shot at a normal life.  Without this, I die.

A bad diet and other things....

Back in 2012 I joined a gym.  I thought ok, this is it, I'm going to change my life.  I'm a fat lazy ass who sits on the couch and does nothing and maybe, just maybe if I get my fat lazy ass into the gym, I won't be so fat or so lazy.  My husband joined with me.  He is neither fat, nor lazy.  Before we went to tour the gym, I panicked and had a massive anxiety attack.  I mean, I hadn't been to the gym since high school...and I am 37 now.  So yea.  Anyhow...so we joined and I had my first session with my personal trainer.  This involved going to the gym, BY MYSELF.  First experience?  Terrible.  My trainer put me on the treadmill and told me he'd come back in 20 minutes for me.  I walked 20 minutes.  No sign of my trainer.  I walked 30 minutes.  No sign of my trainer.  I walked 40 minutes.  Yep - no sign of my trainer.  I had to hit the emergency stop button on my machine,  because I had NO idea how to work a treadmill.  I went to the front counter to try to find my trainer, but he left.  Yep, left the gym.  That was nice.  So then this other trainer, a big muscle-y guy came up to me.  He was going to put me through the paces.  He got me doing squats and lunges on the TRX machine, then some exercise where I picked up and threw a medicine ball across the gym and back.  I felt like I was going to die.  I was shaking and sweating and seeing spots.  I knew in that instance, I was about to pass out.  He tried to get me to do more and I refused.  I wasn't going to pass out on the gym floor in front of all those people.  

After that, I tried to avoid my trainer, because I knew he was going to push me beyond what I was comfortable doing.  And I don't mean in the exercise department.  I had a few more sessions and I always did what he asked me to do.  And I liked it, he's a great motivator.  But I never felt comfortable in that gym.  I always felt like this moose walking in, with a big flashing light over my head so everyone would notice me.  I've gotten the looks at the gym before.  I've gotten the fat girl stare.  I've gotten the chick in spandex next to me on the elliptical telling me how I should be doing it.  Fuck all that.  

Anyhow, I figured that no matter what anyone said, I COULD out exercise a bad diet but guess what?  You can't.  And guess what?  I haven't been to the gym in months.  I don't feel comfortable there.  Even when I go with my husband I feel the stares.  I cannot move my body and sweat and get my body to do what I want it to do when everyone is staring at me.  

I always start these posts with the best of intentions.  To say something profound that'll motivate someone, when in reality, I need to motivate myself.  I just wound up reminding myself that I failed, yet again.

Tis my birthday...

It's my birthday today...woo woo!  I love my birthday.  Except, today has been pretty dull.  I couldn't sleep last night; was anxious for my husband to get home. We work opposite shifts and never see one another.  So knowing that I had off of work today, I was trying to stay awake until 1am when he got home.  I was so happy when he came into bed and snuggled with me.  He's my best friend.  All the way around, he's my best friend.  We met by an odd circumstance, 1200 miles away from one another.  We met and 5 months later were married.  I love this man.  Sometimes, this man makes me insanely crazy and I can't stand the sight of him, but most times, most times I cannot imagine my life without this man.  And I miss him today. :/

We all (me, husband and son) went out for lunch.  Oh!  First birthday ever with NO birthday cake. At first my feelings were super hurt. I was like, how can they NOT get me a birthday cake? I was hurt, really!  But, the more I ponder it, the happier I am that I don't have one.  Do you know how many pieces I'd eat?  A lot.  And that's just more calories I'd have to burn.  So, I got a mocha frappucino and a cheesecake brownie from Starbucks.  That's my treat today.

Anyhow, this year, I'm reflective.  I'm hopeful for my upcoming surgery and life change.  I'm hopeful that at this time next year, I'm not this fat.  I'm not this unhealthy.  I cannot wait to start my new life. I feel like this is a new opportunity, a rebirth if you will.


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