Roux en Y (part 2)

My cardiologist, took a fun filled background of me, involving where I went to high school, how many siblings I have, and where I go to school now. He did another EKG, and after struggling around my boobs for sometime, though never actually touching them, thankfully, he managed to hear my heart. He decided that the root of my problems is that my boobs are too big, but made me get an echo of my heart anyway. An incredibly nice woman performed my echo. She came in joking and smiling. Considering that I was pretty exposed, I like that she kept the door shut and the lights very dim. When it all was done, I felt less violated than I expected, and wiped off all the goo off of my stomach, chest, and boobs.

My pulmonologist seemed to me like a waste of time. I came in, the listened to my heart, asked a few questions, and said I was good to go, and sent me on my way with a prescription for nicotine patches and gum. Unfortunately I did not get off that easily. He also set me up with a another list of tests. I'll let you know how that goes after next Friday.

My favorite appointment thus far, has been the nutritionist. First let me just say, who the fuck wastes their life getting a degree in nutritionist, I mean really, your gonna spend your life explaining the food pyramid to people, that's a joke, her life is a joke. Anyway, upwards and onwards. I arrive after being sick for several weeks, I had taken the day off of work because I felt like death, but managed to roll out of bed for this appointment. I sit there and she asks me if I ever tried dieting and all that (even though I've explained them to everyone else already). I find she has a bad attitude from the jump off, she doesn't think that I've tried other alternatives enough. She tells me that what I eat isn't good for me, she doesn't think that I'm ready to make changes in my life and that I'm not ready for the surgery. I look at her and kindly tell her that I have been to more doctor's appointments over the last 3 months than most people go to in years, I've been sick as a dog, and I'm sorry if I'm not super excited about the food pyramid.

My tolerance for shit at this point is pretty low, I've been dealing with these people for quite some time and this wench is the last person I have to get through before they ask my insurance company for the money. She makes me want to kill people. I wanted to jump across the counter and jam trans fats of any kind down her skinny little throat. Regardless, I kept myself calm for the most part and she told me that I should come back in two weeks. You have no idea how excited I am for this. Her other issue with me is that I don't like mushy foods, and after I get my surgery I have to eat mushy foods for a brief period. I think I can handle a week of mush, god forbid, and they have sugar free water ice at Rita's, what more do I need in life?

Roux en Y (part 1)

I started this process when it was still warm outside, I don't remember the exact date, but I remember the beautiful weather. I had finally decided that it needed to happen, I'm so unhappy with my body that I have spent a lot of time crying about it.

So for starters...The mental process of getting to a point where you know, in your heart of hearts, that you have put forth a good effort to loose weight. You have done everything in your control to lose all those extra pounds. I've tried diets, weight watchers, Alli, and I even got a personal trainer. Some of us just weren't meant to be thin. My dad weighted over 300 lbs when he got his surgery around the age of 30, which was in the 1960's, so his gastric bypass was much different than what mine will be. My mom's idea of losing weight is a strict diet of running, grilled chicken and vodka. She went from a very large woman to a zero, until she busted her ankle, and now she's fat like me.
grilled chicken.

Either way, that first step, is the hardest, when you know that it is all out of your control, and you have no other choice. It's a hard truth to come to.

My first doctor appointment consisted of me finding out that I was two inches taller than I thought I was, and therefore, I fell just under the minimum weight requirement. I cried and balled hysterically, I'm not sure for how long. My dad's response was much more relaxed. He felt that it was the greatest thing that could ever happen to me, because I should eat milkshakes for days until I got my weight up those few pounds I was short. I quickly learned that that particular doctor would not see me again for another 6 months, so I gained the weight, and found a new doctor.

You sit through a long, long drawn out presentation on all of your surgery options, you mentally decide which of the surgeries your interested in, and make an appointment to meet with one of the nurses. At that meeting, you chat a little bit, she gets some history from you, and then hands you a lovely stack of prescriptions for a day of tests.

This is another fun part of the process. You arrive at the hospital and are poked and prodded. You show up with your stool sample, they take blood, multiple times from different parts of your body, you get an EKG, probably the easiest of the tests. The chest x-ray isn't too bad, followed by an ultrasound of your stomach. So after you feel kind of violated you head back to your doctor with the results. This is actually the first time you meet the man whole will perform the surgery. My doctor, was awesome. He came in and told me I was going to have to see a specialist for a variety of the test results that came back abnormal. Then he told me that I was a perfect candidate for any other surgeries, so I was excited to hear that I was getting the Roux en Y, just like I wanted.

Unfortunately, it was not over yet, I had a rectal exam coming. Of course they tell me this about an hour before it happens so I get to sit there and think about for that whole hour, not cool.