It’s almost midnight. I’m still up. I’ve been thinking about tomorrow’s appointment. I’m still not freaking out. Will I tomorrow? Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows.
Maybe I’m okay with this? It’s a Zoom appointment so it’s not a Covid risk. Maybe that’s why I’m sort of relaxed. Who knows.
Patches is hanging out with me right now. Maybe that’s why I’m okay. Who knows.
I haven’t started freaking out yet, but I expect I will shortly. Or maybe not. I don’t know.
My for really reals first weight loss surgery appointment is tomorrow morning. I took the first half of the day off so that I can freak out, go to the Zoom meeting, and then cry and freak out again. Like, my whole morning is scheduled.
Then again, maybe the fact that I haven’t freaked out yet is a sign that I am for really reals ready to do this. It’s going to suck, and it’s going to suck for months and months, but as far as my health is concerned it’s the right thing to do, right? Right.
I don’t know what to expect. It’s safe to assume I will have a million questions and when the Doc asks me if I have any questions I will completely blank out and not be able to think of anything. Safe bet that prediction is going to come true. We’ll see tomorrow though.
Am I starting to feel nervous? My first weight loss surgery appointment is Thursday morning. I can’t tell if I am actually nervous or not. I’ve been in a weird state of mind all day. Like… an odd bundle of energy that feels just sort of… off.
Tonight we were going to have spaghetti and red sauce for dinner. Turns out we didn’t have any sauce. Jen and I both thought we had a jar but we don’t. I was pretty sad. Like, damn dude, I was in the mood for some s’ghettie. Then Jen said that we should just say screw it and go to Five Guys and I was like, Kick Ass! Five Guys! Best French Fries Ever!
So I guess I am just in a weird, confused, you’re about to be scared shitless again, mood swinging state of mind.
Crud.
Thursday. Thursday morning, to be exact. I can do this. I can do this.
Can I do this?
Crud.
I have 12 minutes of bike time in today (so far). I’m trying to get back on the exercise wagon if I can. It’s so friggin’ hard. Why is it so difficult? I hate being morbidly obese.
I’m 10 days away from my first real weight loss surgery appointment. It’s a Zoom call. I don’t even have to leave my house. Nice, huh? I should ride the bike during the call. Show them that I am all in on not being huge anymore.
12 minutes… my legs are really tired. Shit.
I’m so fat,
How fat are you?
I’m so fat that my back is in serious pain due to having to hold my ginormous gut upright while I’m standing. When I first stand up I’m good for maybe 5-10 minutes and then the back pain flares up and it becomes hard to move. I can deal with it for a few minutes but then it gets bad enough that I have to sit.
Here’s hoping gastric bypass surgery will fix this particular issue.
Fingers crossed.
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.
Inside the Red Head's Head 