Due to some personal and family situations that I could not prevent, I wound up putting my lap band surgery progress on hold… until now.
While it bums me out that I could have had the surgery by this month, and have been on the road to recovery and a much slimmer me, I am not letting that detract from my excitement at getting back on board.
Last week: last week I called to re-enroll in the lap band surgery program. I emailed over copies of my doctor’s letter of recommendation (from last April) and psychological evaluation (from last July), and made an appointment to get my blood work done.
Today: today I got blood drawn.
Tonight: the clinic called to schedule my first appointment. I go next week — on March 17th. Yay!
Because of scheduling conflicts, I’m going to have to reschedule my second appointment, which I should be attending this morning at 10:30am. Dammit!
My second meeting is in four days. I’ll come bearing gifts of completed homework, one month of logging meals and my passed-with-flying-colors psych. eval. Here’s to hoping that I’ve lost a bit of weight since last month!
My husband is supportive of my choice to have the lap band surgery, but has an issue with what he calls my aversion to sweating. My aversion isn’t of sweat, my aversion is of pushing my body to do something it is not physically capable of doing right now. I’d rather not risk a heart attack, an asthma attack or passing out. At the very least, being out of breath and winded to the point that you are seeing spots and your hearing begins to fade out isn’t the most pleasant of experiences. I know. I have been there.
I try not to let myself get too upset at my husband’s comments and misconceptions, because I know that he doesn’t understand, having never been where I’m at. He takes it for granted that he can go up a flight of steps at a quick pace, or run down the road, or fit into a roller coaster seat.
I had my psychological evaluation done on Monday evening at 7pm. The appointment lasted an hour, and everything went perfectly. The psychologist I met with handles all of the evals for bariatric surgery patients, so she knew the basics, and had many weight related questions for me: highest weight, lowest weight, tried weight loss methods, activity level, if I’m monitoring my food, how long I have been overweight for, does it run in the family, etc.
She also wanted to know why I want to have the lap band surgery: what is the single most important reason for having it. I answered honestly: my health. Ranking in second place is wanting to look good and feel good, but first and foremost is my health. Obesity runs in my family, and it complicated my grandmother’s health and contributed to her death when she was only 67 years old. At this point I broke down and cried. She had tissues handy. 
Anyway, my paperwork documenting my psych eval and the fact that I’m not some crazy bitch will be ready for me to pick up in about two weeks. 
That’s perfect, since my blood work is this Thursday (and the results won’t be ready until next week), my exercise evaluation is on the 31st, and my second appointment with the nutritionist and dietician isn’t until the 27th of August.
It feels so good to know that things are moving along. First appointment squared away, exercise eval in two weeks (I wasn’t able to make my appointment the other morning), psych. eval and blood work this coming week, and then my second meeting in August.
Everyone at the center assured me that my health insurance, Capitol Blue Cross, ALWAYS approves the surgeries so long as all requirements are met. No hemming and hawing, no sudden road blocks or outright denials, nothing. Whoo hoo!
Last night I tried to explain to my husband how being so overweight affects my life. I don’t think he really got it, because his response to the situation was to make a mockery of everything I was telling him. He trivialized my feelings and the struggles I’ve had with my weight, self image and how I am treated by society, and then on top of it all, he got angry at me for my inability to exercise beyond vigorous walking or gentle aerobics. He accused me of having a pity party and not doing anything. He also had the nerve to compare my weight problem with his past of having longer than normal haircuts and ratty t-shirts, and being made fun of for it. As you very well know, it takes just days to get a new wardrobe and a better hair cut, while it can take years to shed a hundred pounds or more, and the stigma that remains with you.
It was all very hurtful to deal with, and has taught me a valuable lesson: my husband just doesn’t get it. And rather than risk being hurt by his attitude again, I won’t confide in him. I’ll just handle the support aspect myself with support groups, surgery and then recovery.
