Pins and needles .. needles and pins

When did I begin this journey?  Was it January or February?  Not sure, not really important.  My insurance company required that this fat girl jump through a ton of hoops before I would ever find out whether or not I would be approved for the surgery.  Some of the hoops were required by the surgeon.  I have not been lucky enough to have everything covered and have been shelling out the money for what insurance did not pay.  It's been so long.  Finally, the paperwork went to the insurance company and I sat on pins and needles - and waited.

Yesterday the surgeon's office called and told me I had been denied for in-patient surgery.  I wanted to cry.  NO!  That's not what I said, not sure what words came out of my mouth.  Then the gal said - so we are resubmitting for out-patient.  Her tone of voice wasn't encouraging and I was afraid to ask what the chances were that they would turn around and approve me with that change.  I was terrified to hear her answer.

Today I saw that number come up on my phone when it rang.  Again I was afraid.  It seemed better to not know.  But - I'm glad I answered!

Some things are worth waiting for.

Tomorrow, the bariatric guy

I have been waiting for tomorrow.  It is when I get to see the bariatric surgeon to decide whether or not I am a candidate for weight loss surgery.  I am nervous.

Yesterday I went downtown with my daughter to go to a wedding expo.  Walking from the car to the building was maybe one city block and I was winded.  Very winded.  We walked a lot but what killed me more was the 10 to 15 minutes we stood in one place.  My back started to ache and I feared I would have to be rude and find a way to back out of the conversation (my daughter and one of her friends) so I could walk around.  I don't do anything physical anymore so some of this is not unexpected but the degree to which I have deteriorated is startling.  And mostly it's not healthy.

So tomorrow I am hoping the doctor agrees with me.  I'm not as worried about convincing my insurance company as much as I am the doctor.  Pretty sure if the doctor says it's a go - the insurance company will follow suit as long as I dot all the i's and cross all the t's and jump through every hoop they require.  But the doctor will be the hands on examination, reading my blood test results, listening to my heart and taking my blood pressure.

NOT ME. Very few pics, remember?

There are very few pictures of me from the last 10 years.  I don't allow people to take pictures and I wonder if one day I will regret that.  But a few months ago when one of my brothers was in town, he managed to get a picture of me sitting on the bed in my mom's nursing home room.  It's funny because I know I'm fat.  I see myself in the mirror every now and again and complain about how hard it is to bend down, to get out of a low car, and many other things - I am always surprised when I see a picture.  It's like part of me denies what has happened while another part of me knows.  It's weird.

So tomorrow is the day.  I'm nervous like I said.  But I'm excited too.  I'm hoping this is the start of something really good in my life.

So.

I saw my doctor yesterday. He wasn't sure I would qualify for lap band surgery, my particular insurance is hard to convince.  But then he reviewed my blood work, my weight, the diabetes, some mild sleep apnea and now diabetic neuropathy, and said I actually should qualify.  I wanted to make sure he was on board because even though this isn't his expertise - he is the doctor I've been seeing for the last 20 years and he knows me the best.

He also agrees that I only have so many years of "cute" left.  The jerk.  :)

So on Monday I believe, I will make contact with the doctor my doc recommended.  I will have to go to the seminar, a psychologist or some such doc, do a few back flips and learn to eat fire, and then I can have the surgery.  I will do whatever it takes - now that I have made this decision.  As of right now, all systems are go!

This is not enjoyable.

Anyone who knows me knows how much I love Christmas and especially - my Christmas tree.  But this year, decorating it has not been enjoyable.  This is the first time in my life that I feel uncomfortable moving around the tree, bending and reaching, going through the boxes and methodically bringing my tree to life.

I am literally physically uncomfortable because of my weight.  Not good.  So much has happened since I wrote last, my eating habits went totally off the rails again and then my mom passed away.  Eating right has just not been a priority.  But now I feel my toes burning a lot.  Well, not exactly burning, but the sensation is similar to being out in the cold and coming into the warmth and your toes kind of tingling and burning a bit as they warm up.  But mine feel that way for no apparent reason and I am afraid it is the diabetes.

How people continue with the struggle to lose weight, I just don't know.  When you have been heavy, your body wants to stay heavy.  You gain weight more quickly when you fall off the wagon than someone who never been overweight.  I am tired of the struggle.  Truly.

There is a girl I work with - Renee - we are in different states but we work together and she made the decision to see if she could be approved for the lapband.  She is in much the same situation that I am - neither one of us has a high enough BMI to qualify with that alone.  But both of us have the diabetes factor, and she has hypertension as well.  Those things allow someone who is not quite morbidly obese still qualify (by insurance standards) for the surgery.  I have decided to do it.

Renee and I are going to do it together, albeit in different places, but we will go through the process together and be supportive of one another.  We have both taken the first step of signing up for seminars and making appointments to see our doctors.

It's not just that I'm frustrated, although I am.  It's not just that I'm tired of the struggle, although I am.  It's not even simply because I hate being fat, although I am.  I am afraid of the diabetes but more than that - I am frightened of having a stroke.  My dad had 2 strokes, and that is what killed him.  He became diabetic probably 10 years before he died and even though he was taking better care of himself, losing weight and exercising, he still had his strokes.  I am about 10 years ahead of my dad in terms of what age he was diagnosed with diabetes.  And I take after my dad's side of the family in terms of body type, much more so than my mom's.  And it terrifies me.

It's usually about a 6 month process to get approved for the procedure and for me - the decision was a big part of it.  But now it's like Nike - it's time to just do it.