I don’t like being out in public like this. Never mind the part about asking someone to rewire my innards.
Turns out I’ve been here before. I went to an info session once years ago and then chickened out before my first appointment. This is the same office.
I’m experimenting with double masking. I can’t tell if the inner mask is still over my nose or not. I think it is.
Another missed car music opportunity today. I actually have time to go, I just don’t want to. I’m more focused on my weight loss surgery non-appointment. I thought it was at Lowell General Hospital, but it’s actually in Chelmsford. No worries. I have the address, I just didn’t look at it before. Fear, ya know?
I don’t know the timeline for this process. In my tiny little brain I assumed it was about a year. I hope it’s at least a little less than that. Jen thought she heard it was about six months. That would be okay with me. With fingers crossed and knocking on all of the wood I say that we are hoping the pandemic will let us to go Disney World next January. I need to either be through the surgery and recovered and back on my feet again by then, or I need to hold off until we get back.
There is also the question of whether or not the pandemic bitch will cause the hospital to stop doing elective surgery. I know some hospitals are in that boat right now. Hopefully that doesn’t become an issue.
Sorry for all of these posts. It’s just kind of what’s on my mind right now. I’m hoping we’ll get through it together, right?
I filled out the paperwork that I need to drop off at my weight loss surgery check in non-appointment tomorrow. There was a medical history form and a psychological questionnaire.
The psych form had my favorite question. There was a little section on alcohol consumption. Do you drink alcohol? No. Never have, likely never will. Then there were a few questions that assume you answered yes. I just answer no to all of them.
But then…
Do other people ever complain about your drinking, yes or no.
Well that one gave me pause. Obviously no one has ever complained about my drinking, but I have in fact taken truck loads of shit over my not drinking. I have taken so much shit, you wouldn’t think the world could hold that much shit. I should answer yes just out of spite!
I answered no.
Imminent… did I spell that right? I think so. It’s one of those words, you know? One of those words that I am never quite sure how to spell.
What was I talking about? Oh yeah, the panic is imminent.
Tomorrow is Tuesday. After that… Wednesday. That’s when the panic will come full force. Wednesday morning. At Lowell General Hospital. It’s not even an appointment, it’s just handing in some paperwork and having my vitals recorded. The actual first appointment is February 3rd via Zoom. Wednesday though… that’s the next step. I have to get through that before I can do anything else.
Weight loss surgery. I am in a state of mild freak out right now. It will be a major league freak out tomorrow. Wednesday morning… full blown panic. I can practically smell it.
I’m doing it this time. No more wussing out like the last time. No more giving in to fear. No more worrying about what I won’t be able to do anymore once it’s done. The only worry worth worrying about is what happens if I don’t do it.
It’s the right thing to do, but I am still going to panic over every little detail, including dropping off the medical history forms on Wednesday.
Fuck. I don’t know if I am ready for this.
Fuck. I have to get myself ready for this.
Fuck.
I feel like I should be posting something as my Tuesday lunch break comes to an end. I can’t come up with anything though. There are a few little things. Today hasn’t been the painful day I was fearing it would be. There have been a couple of annoying things at work, but nothing we can’t handle. Bellana left us yesterday and won’t be back until Summer. We still have Harry around for a few days, but we’re driving him back to school on Sunday and then we’re kidless for a couple of months.
I have avoided using retail therapy to cheer myself up, but junk food is another story. We had ice cream last night. I’ve had a lot of chocolate today. I need to stop this crap and start being more careful. The first weight loss surgery appointment is next week, but it’s only to drop off paperwork. The real first appointment is next month. Sigh.
I am off work tomorrow. That’s nice. I took the day off just in case Bellana ended up needing a ride to the airport. She doesn’t, so I am free. Patches has a vet appointment and I still have to get two Christmas presents for two of my nephews over to my sister’s house. I am trying to stay as Covid safe as humanly possible until Harry is back at school. I think the vet appointment is a curbside thing but I am not sure. I guess I’ll find out tomorrow, huh?
Okay. I guess I came up with something to talk about after all. Time to get back to work. That bug ain’t gonna fix itself.
I made two doctors appointments today. One is just a quickie to drop off some paperwork and take some vitals. The other is a zoom meeting.
I told myself that I wasn’t going to write about this… then changed my mind… then changed my mind again… and now I am changing it again. The appointments are to start the process for weight loss surgery. The idea of mutilating my internal organs in the name of health scares the fucking shit out of me (literally?). 20 years of nothing but negative progress in my attempts to get healthier is currently scaring me even more. A lot more. Almost infinitely more. My step kids were six and four years old when I met them for the first time. I missed out on a ton. I don’t want to miss out on any more because I was not able to get my weight down and it caused my heart to explode. Fuck.
So the first appointment is booked and I am freaking out. Also, the first appointment doesn’t happen until mid-January so I am freaking out about that too. Covid-19 forced us to punt on Harry’s high school graduation trip to Disney World last year. The make up date is currently sometime in January 2023. I don’t want to still be in some weakened recovery phase of this process when the trip date comes around. I’d rather delay than screw up scheduling. Granted Omicron is already hinting at a fucked up 2022 to rival the fucked up 2021 and 2020. Fuck. Who knows what’s going to happen.
Anyway… as of right now I think I am going to share my thoughts and experiences on this whole process as they happen, which means you aren’t going to hear a peep for almost two months. I’ll probably change my mind a few dozen times between now and then so you might not get a post about it until it happens. Or, maybe I’ll wait a year after it happens and then just post a selfie of an unrecognizable, healthier me (that is the goal, right?).
Cross your fingers and hang on to your butts, and come along and freak the fuck out with me.
I wrote “fuck” a lot in this post. Oh well.
I wasn’t going to write about this until it was all over at some point in the far off future, but I’m going to fail at it the way I fail at most things so why not share?
On Monday November 8th I viewed an orientation video for weight loss surgery at Lowell General Hospital. I spoke to my insurance company to make sure the procedure would be covered and I submitted a form to request an initial appointment. The form said to expect a response in five business days. That was six business days ago.
Sure it’s only one day over… I’m sure they are just busy. I’m sure it’s not the universe trying to convince me to wuss out and not mutilate myself in the name of healthier living. I’m sure I’ll be fine the way I am, right up until the heart attack ends me before I’m sixty.
Fuck.
A few years ago I had my doctor refer me to a bariatric surgery information session. I went, and then booked the first consult. Not long after I canceled the consult. I just chickened out.
I think I’m going to start the process over again. I think it’s time to take a serious look. At my age, the time for screwing around with my health is long over.
I’m scared shitless, of course, but I’m going to do it.
Wish me luck.
Inside the Red Head's Head 