After two years of jumping through hoops and playing nice-nice with the docs on my team at the Weight Center (WC), I finally had a consult with the gastric bypass surgeon today....and I was approved! Woo!
I left Dr. H's office and walked directly into the surgical scheduling office, where I was given a date for surgery (December 10th! AYFKM?! That's 37 freakin days yo!) and a piece of paper with no less than 10 apointments on it that I absolutely positively Must. Not. miss between now and surgery. Isn't it pretty? (Pardon the blur.)
I was then informed that they needed to do a blood draw (roughly a dozen vials, but who's counting?) which process went quickly pear-shaped due to the fact that a) I have veins that roll, and b) I was slightly dehydrated. So, after about 8 sticks, the MA had only gotten half the vials filled and we had to give up. I'll have to try it all over again when I go back next week for the first of what will be many nutrition groups.
I'm totally crazy right now. I'm elated that after years (like...I dunno 6? 8?) of research and fence-sitting about whether I wanted surgery, followed by two years of working with the WC team and trying everything from therapy and support groups to medication and nutrition counselling (and losing a very reputable, but modest, 25 lbs. in the process) that I've finally been approved! Two years was a long time and self-doubt and insecurity had ample opportunity to rear their ugly montrous little heads, but they have been bashed like Whack-A-Mole!
At the same time, I'm completely - I mean totally - overwhelmed. The minute I left the WC today it was as if all those unknowns and the details of life change that I will have to make...all the adjustments I will have to accommodate within my life, within myself came raining down on me like so many wet, clinging snowflakes. And I started Freaking Out. I mean, crying-on-the-phone-to-my-wife-snot-on-my-face-while-I-sit-in-a-public-courtyard-outside-the-WC-office-building freaking out. To get the complete picture, I should add that I was sitting immediately opposite the glass storefront for a burrito restaurant with a lunch bar along the window where several people were sitting and eating (this being the height of the lunch rush). I'm not a Make Scenes in Public kinda gal. Really, really not. Not usually, anyway.
It started with me telling her that because of the date of the surgery, we have to cancel our trip to visit my family in FL over Christmas (no travel for at least 3 weeks after surgery), which really sucks. And I had just gotten off the phone with Dad who had been understanding, saying my health comes first, but he sounded as bummed as I felt. And then I realized that after I start losing weight my wedding rings won't fit and that is what did it! I know it's a silly small thing but I really love my rings. They are the only jewelry I wear every day and they represent so much to me.....it just really set me off and I was crying and snotting all over the place. Yes, I am totally aware that they can be resized. It's not really the point. The point is that my whole life will have to be resized. And that's just.....well, that's a big fucking proposition, now isn't it?