Day One-- The Beginning of the End I Hope

Well, I've done it. I called the doc and made the appointment to discuss bariatric surgery. After years of yo-yo dieting, GERD, sleep apnea, blood sugar issues, gall bladder surgery, varicose veins, I'm still with a BMI of greater than 40+. Sad isn't it?

Well, I've finally given up. I'm tired of doing without the seemingly normal foods, drinking herb tea instead of a cola, searching in the back of the grocery store for the sugar-free creamer for my coffee, and trying to content myself with a sliver of birthday cake (with all the frosting removed)on my own damn birthday. I even tried bulimea.

Before anyone yells at me or sends me frantic emails, I stopped. It's just not in me to manage to sneak off and throw up when I overindulge. DH got upset when he caught me. Not worth the trouble.

Anyway, I'm tired of being fat, and I'm tired of spending more money than I make buying useless diet foods. For me alone, Nutrisystem or Jenny Craig would cost more than $300 a month! Me alone. That's half my food budget. No can do. Yes, I've tried Weight Watchers. Can we say expensive?

Okay, so I think I've established I've played the diet game all my life with little to no success. I Googled bariatric surgery and found out I qualify six ways to Sunday for the reasons listed in the first paragraph. My insurance clearly states they will pay for Lap-Band at minimum. Had it not been for Angela Knight, I'd be content with that. Angela proposed the Roux en Y version. It's better for those at risk for diabetes. Even better.

Now, let's establish another factor. I am an extreme needle phobic. Sure, you've heard of others afraid of needles. I'll bet very few actually have a rise in blood pressure so great at the sight of a needle they faint and come near to having a stroke. I'll bet very few had a total of SEVENTEEN sticks just to establish an IV last time they went to the emergency room.

For me to make that phone call and plan to ask for surgery, knowing all doctors have the need for extreme CYA (cover your *ss) and order every blood test known to God, man, and insurance companies, took every ounce of courage I thought I had.

My appointment is Thursday the 29th of May.


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