That time I had to have my gallbladder removed at 10 weeks pregnant....Part Deux

They finally moved me to a room after about another hour in the "holding area". At this point my Dad was with me and we started googling how my life was going to be sans gallbladder. Of course it was all the horror stories we were reading, no fatty foods at all and limited dairy for fear of debilitating gas or worse... explosive diarrhea. Be jealous of  my glamours life ladies... BE JEALOUS!!!

The lady I was sharing the room with was a trip, I get wheeled in to the room hair a mess, hospital gown flapping in the breeze and this lady is in silk pjs, hair coiffed reading the paper, obviously this isn't her first rodeo. I was an add on surgery that day which meant they could come and get me any minute if a surgery was canceled or it could be 3 am. I slept on and off as my family took shifts eating and going home to let the pups out. Then it happened.

I was really dehydrated when I got to the hospital, this doesn't help when  trying to find a vein for an IV when you already have crappy veins. The first nurse I had put my IV in my arm crease by my elbow. Which was fine and dandy when you are just getting fluids but when they put you on an actual pump that has an alarm the sounds when the line gets backed up, it sucks. If I even thought about moving my arm the dumb pump would sound. Not being in my right mind I suggested the nurse try to find a better place for the port... This resulted in 4 unnecessary puncture wounds given to me by 2 nurses, a nurses aid and then a stat nurse. The stat nurse almost got punched in the face... STAT! You see what I did there? Anyway, all the other nurses weren't too bad, they didn't dig for a vein and they said they had a last resort which was the stat nurse. She wasn't of the mentality of don't dig for a vein, this woman brought me to tears. For what seemed like an eternity she dug for a vein and said she "got one." She didn't my vein collapsed and bruised and the fluid started to build under my skin... lovely.

My last straw was when I went to the bathroom and husband asked me if I wanted to brush my teeth to feel a little human. I said I wanted too and I couldn't lift my arms from the pain of the ports, that is when it hit me. All I could do is cry, my arms and hands were covered in gauze and med tape from all the pokes and the one the stat nurse did was killing me. Husband hugged me and called the nurse back and asked her to take out the second port. I could have married husband all over again.

It was time to turn in for the night because it was looking like the morning before I would go under the knife. My dad left and my mom and husband were hashing out the details of the next day when my awesome nurse (I had her before and after surgery and she too was pregnant so we talked babies and it made me feel better) came back in and said "I take back what I said, they will be up for you in 15 min". I was in shock. It was almost 10, husband called my dad back to the hospital and I took off my jewelry and in no time I was being wheeled to surgery.

When I got in to the OR it was surreal. I met the surgeon and the  put me to sleep with out me knowing doctor. I say that because I had no idea he was starting the anesthesia he just said, "ok" and the next thing I knew I was thrashing around in recovery. It was strange to be laying on the table because they started passing instruments above me and I didn't really freak out until I saw the intubation tubes. I don't know why that scared me but it did. They put the oxygen mask over my face and had me breathe deeply and that is the last thing I remember.

I don't know where I was in my sub-conscience when I woke up but it was someplace where it required me to get up and be somewhere. I tried to get up 3 times and had to be held down by the nurses, the amount of pain I woke up in was hard to process. I kept telling them "I am in a lot pf pain." and asking if it should be like this, Then it got so bad all I could do is moan. They shot me up with 3 hits of pain meds and I was still in so much pain I said I was going to throw up. They ordered more and some anti-nausea meds and finally I found some relief. They wheeled me back to my room and I was awake which everyone was surprised and I looked around the room and asked where my dad was, he had left because he was sure I would be asleep. I told them about recovery and my mom and husband said that is why it probably took me so long to get back to my room, it took over an hour. After I got settled, mom left and I asked husband to stay and he slept in the recliner.

I was so hopped up on pain meds, and just plain tired that my pump alarm had been going off and I had no idea. The migraine lady had to call the nurse.... the noise from the pump... triggered a migraine for her... OOPS!!!

I felt terrible.

She was moaning and asking why was no one helping her and all because I moved my damn arm.

Anyway, I ate the horrible hospital food and was told I could go home that day.

For the next week and a half I was in a state of twilight sleep and just recovered in our guest room.

I am not 100% but I am getting there and the baby was fine as we left the hospital and I have an ultrasound to check on bean and see how they are baking.

That time I had to have my gallbladder removed at 10 weeks pregnant....part une

Yep.

It happened.

Some of you may be wondering where I've been.

Lemme tell you a story...

For the past few weeks I have been experiencing terrible nausea and vomiting, I honestly was chalking it up to morning sickness and was just counting the days until I was out of the hellish first trimester. None of the tricks worked, peppermint oil, crackers, carbonated soda, protein, ginger, different type of teas,any nausea treatment that was out there I tried to no avail and I was THIS close to calling my doctor for the suffering pregnant woman's best friend... zofran. But I solidered on...

Last Thursday started out rough, I choked down my peanut butter toast and got ready as usual, but as I was brushing my teeth I gagged a little and everything came right back up. I started crying. It was a battle anyway to eat at 5:30 in the morning, and now all that hard work was flushed down the toilet.
I went to work and just felt off all day, my stomach was killing me and no matter what I did I couldn't shake this persistant nausea, it was so bad that after my boss left at 4 that day I laid down on the newly installed carpet and tried not to move. When 4:30 finally came around I clocked out and slowly made my way to the car. I felt like a live round, any sudden movement and I would explode. We got home and I went straight to bed, then around 5:30 all hell broke loose. I couldn't get comfortable in bed, so I grabbed my robe and my pillow and decided to cut my vomit run distance from feet to mere inches. There is nothing like the bathroom floor when you are sick, especially my bathroom floor because not only is it bone chillingly cool but the heat vent warms it up frequently enough that you are never to hot or cold. Anyway, husband comes and checks on me and I just melt on to him. I knew I needed to throw up and that this was eminent but it just wouldn't come. It finally did and the momentary relief I felt was glorious, husband helped me to bed and moments later I was darting back to the bathroom... odd. I am usually I one and done thrower upper.

Husband fixed me some rice and mixed veggies because I wanted something bland and I had a few fork fulls and hunkered down for the night... problem was dinner wasn't sitting well. I was up and in the bathroom again. Then it hit me... I thought it was just pain from throwing up so much but when I laid back down my whole abdomen felt like a balloon ready to pop, I honestly felt like I was going to rip, right down the center. Husband and my mom got me back in to bed and all I could do was moan. There was a cycle now, throw up, feel ok for about 5 min, then the pain would start and I would writhe and moan for about 15-20 min and then I would throw up again. This was my hell from about 7-9pm. We called my OB because this wasn't morning sickness, we knew that now, but was it the flu, or something else? At this point I couldn't even hold water down and my mom and husband were on their phones, we called my OB and her answering service didn't pick up for some reason so we called my midwife, who thought it was the flu and sent husband out for fluids and some anti-nausea/vomiting meds, but when I threw that up I suggested calling my friends mom who is a nurse. She said get me to the ED regardless of what this was because I was going to needs fluids. In a last ditch effort my mom called my OB again and she echoed what my friend's mom said and she was even on call at the hospital and would be expecting us.

This is where I get on my soap box a get a little pissy.

I knew the ED was crowded, it kind of bummed me out because I knew that meant the possibility of a long wait was a possibility. We go through triage and I think to  myself a pregnant woman complaining of abdominal pain and can't keep fluids down may help me get seen faster. We sat in the waiting room for 4 FUCKING HOURS!!!! I only say it angrily because there is a sign when you first walk in that says people aren't seen in order as they come in but in severity of state or something like that. Looking around the room there were people worse off than me and people that weren't. The ones that were worse, or course see to them first. At this point My body was so exhausted and there was nothing left in it to heave so my vomiting had stopped. But you can't tell me the woman that was bragging that she had already been to the emergency department at another hospital earlier this week, AND had only come because her daughter needed to be seen so she thought she would get her foot looked at was a higher priority than me. Not only was she seen a whopping 2 hours before me but she was seen even before her own daughter. I shake my head at whoever was doing triage that night. Shame on them, and I don't even mean for myself, there was a girl that was probably 16 or 17, in so much pain she was sobbing quietly in to her fathers arms in the waiting room. That shouldn't happen.

Anyway, I spent most of my time in a wheel chair in the bathroom, I know it sounds gross but it was quiet and the corner I was in was dark, plus I didn't want to vom in the waiting room. Finally, someone must have told someone that a woman was sitting in a wheel chair in bathroom because a nurse came in and very rudely asked me what I thought I was doing in there.

 Me: I thought I was going to be sick so I came in here
Nurse: Ma'am are you ok?
Me: no, I am just waiting for my name to be called
Nurse: How can you hear it if you are in here? Your name has already been called.
Me (not liking the nurses attitude): Do you honestly think I am alone, my husband and my mother are with me and sitting in the waiting room. Somone will come in a get me AS SOON as you get to my name on this never ending list of people ahead of me.
 Nurse:.... what's your name

She finally calls my name and honestly after the whole waiting room ordeal the staff was absolutely wonderful. I finally get a bed at 2am on Friday morning and things went from bad to worse. I threw up again... yay and they ordered me pain meds and anti nauesa meds and can I just get a WHAT WHAT for morphine!!! It was glorious not to be in pain anymore, anyway they ordered ultrasounds of the babes and of my abdomen and the babes was fine (heart beat was 167 and I got to see heshe's little arm!) but then came the ultra sound of my belly. There it was, a huge gallstone in the neck of my gallbladder.

When the nurse came back in she kind of nonchalantly threw "meeting with the surgeon" in to a conversation and I was all drugged up and agreed and then once it sank in was all "SAY WHAT!?!?!" My mom called my dad told him what was up and we spread the word to family and friends. They moved me to a little room in the Clinical Decision Unit ( I, for one had never heard such a thing) and there I stayed until the meeting with the surgeon. He came in and said by the looks of it he would suggest surgery but would confirm with his attending... now, after years of watching Grey's Anatomy... I knew what this meant. My husband and mom left to get me some socks (it is freezing in hospitals yo) and something to eat because the Doc said it would be 30 min. I try to get some sleep and here he comes back 10 minutes later asked if I wanted to wait for my family and I said it didn't matter "Yep, you need surgery." I was shocked. I thought I was just suffering some hyperemises  and they were going to give me fluids and some stop vomiting meds and send me home... now surgery. I asked him to tell me in depth how this was NOT going to effect the baby and he obliged. I called my family let them know and then we waited.

Stay tuned for my shared hospital room antics, the nurses thinking I was a pin cushion, surgery and recovery.

1/2 a thought

Surgery update.

I had my medical evaluation and had gained 5lbs since March...not awesome

The lady processing my information couldn't have been a pound under 300 if I had to guess.

The whole situation made my inner monologue take off.

If she works here why hasn't see had a surgery? I feel silly for being here having her work up my information.

I met the doctor, a nutritionist, and the insurance rep.

Everything went ok, I found out we are going to have to contribute more than we thought, which isn't stellar but it was expected.

I am iron, vitamin D and B12 deficient.

That explains the lethargy and bouts with sickness.

I made the next round of appointments but there was this pestering doubt that kept floating in front of me like a gnat. I would swat it away but it kept coming back.

I am not going to say I wouldn't have the surgery and that I am having second thoughts, cause if they called me tomorrow saying some anonymous donor covered the bill and I can have it tomorrow I would.

So I say I am having half of a thought.

I don't know what it is, actually, I kind of do.

They surgery I originally went in for started to look like a mistake and from what I had gathered from forums and talking with someone that had had the surgery, the lap band is more like a diet aid. It didn't give them the results they wanted and they fell back in to the same bad eating habits and put weight back on. Some even went back under the knife for a more evasive surgery.

So I was left with chance.

Should I chance it and get the lap band or do I want to nip the potential problem in the bud and go head and get the sleeve?

The sleeve for those of you not up on the gastric surgery lingo is where they remove most of your stomach and leave you with a small section. Your stomach will eventually stretch and get bigger, but not to the football size it is now.

I couldn't believe that I was considering removing more than half of a body organ. I mean isn't that usually a bad thing?

My main question with the doctor was could I have a normal and healthy pregnancy with either surgery. They said for a post surgery patient yes, for a normal person no, it wouldn't be considered normal. Normal for post surgery because I would already be on supplements so they would just add more on, not normal for a non surgery person because I would be taking fist fulls of pills to make sure me and baby were as healthy as could be.

Make sense?

I am a worry wart in the worst way (say that three times fast), I started having these far fetched scenarios where I would have the surgery, pic up some germ or virus like the plauge or a flesh eating virus and then my body then becomes riddled with infection and I almost die. But I don't because in my scenarios I always get saved in the nick of time, but the doctor tells me my baby maker was so severely damaged that I can never have kids....

or the more realistic, what if I have the surgery and have difficult pregnancies, ones riddled with blood work, bed rest and pills.

I mean that could happen anyway but I would know that is just how my pregnancy is going and not because I had this surgery.

Then I start to think, Mrs.G you can do this, you are strong enough to take on this challenge, you see people like you do it everyday.

Then the little asshole in my head says I can't.

This is going to seem out of left field but stay with me.

I have been a nail biter for years, a serious one in fact.

But one day I painted my nubbin nails, and usually my nails get a little longer because who would want to gnaw on nails and get polish in their mouths too? Not me.

So I just kept them painted and all of a sudden my nails were growing, and soon they were just peaking out over the tops of my finger and now they are actual nails.

I just stopped biting them.

I haven't since, granted the temptation is their, but if it gets too strong I paint  my nails and the temptation is gone.

I curbed my temptation by taking my mind off it and doing something productive for me not to bite my nails. Sounds like a mentality that could help me with my eating habits. When I am tempted to eat outside of a meal/snack time I need to do something productive.

If I can break a vice of mine that has plagued me for years who is to say I can't do this too?

I think I might give healthy eating and living one more strong go.

If it doesn't work, that I could still continue with the surgery, but knowing that I tried, this one last time would make me feel a lot better.

I am not sure if I am going to blog about it, updates here and there but not actual weekly updates or a dedicated blog series.

Just wanted to let you know where I am with everything.

Happy Tuesday!!

right now.

I feel as if I am in a rut.

I want to talk about progression with the surgery but I don't want to blabber on and on in case something falls through. Then I will feel like a dumbass for talking about it for so long, I guess little updates won't hurt.

I got the green light from my insurance company and I have my medical evaluation next week. This is where they basically see if I am fit for surgery and discuss which surgery is right for me. I know I want this surgery but what type is the question. Before, the thought of anything other than lapband scared the bejezzes out of me. Now that I have talked to someone that has had the procedure and is unhappy, and led me to webforum for pre and post lapband patients whom most feel the same way, I am having second thoughts. Most of the people that got the surgery less than 2 years after wanted to go back under the knife and get bypass or the sleeve done. When I talk to the surgeon the main thing that will help me choose is the baby factor, which surgery will put less strain on me and a baby in the future.

in other news...

My crafty side is EXPLODING!!!! Last night I couldn't fall to sleep because I couldn't turn my brain off thinking about what all I want to craft.

This new found creativity is a direct result from husband finally giving me the green light to turn the spare room in to a craft room. I can't go balls to the wall and do it up all girly (cause, there was talk of orange walls, with pink and white accents people) because husband doesn't want to store all his Auburn memorabilia which is fine with me as long as I can have my sewing matching set up 24/7.

Also, I need a hobby other than eating, watching tv while eating, and sleeping (while possibly eating as well, sleep eating is a thing right?). I was looking for something that could keep me busy and has an end result. I have a little list started as to what I want to try, most of it being seasonal decor and if you have been reading for any length of time you know that season is Christmas. What?!? Yes, I have been scouring pinterest for decoration ideas and pinning the crap out of them. I have jewelery on the list too, so cut me some slack. And quilt, I have never quilted a day in my life, but now I am all like " I wanna make the most ambitious quilt EVER?!?!?!"

Anyways, my mom said that if my makings are good enough maybe next year I could start a booth in my hometowns big holiday festival aka HOLLYFEST!!!!

and finally.

My in laws came up this weekend to go to the Irish fest (lots of fests in this post) and we had a great time. Even the big ass zit currently residing on my left cheek shimmied to the sound of bagpipes.  I always try to be put together when they come because my mother in law, like all southern women, is so effing put together it makes me sick (in a loving way), even with a sprained ankle and knee she could out accessorize me. This trip was a fail for me, not only was there chipped nail polish, unshaven legs, and the huge zit but she saw my messy room. We all have that room in our house that is always messy, no matter how much  you put in to it you can never stay on top of it. This room is my closet. No matter how much I try to organize it or keep it clean, the darn thing always looks like a disaster area.  OF COURSE I didn't shut the door and she went in the guest room to take a nap. At least I got my uni brow taken care of right and the rest of the house clean right?

That's about it right now blog peeps.

Have a great day!

the time I almost burned my house down and got the kitchen of my dreams

Last night, I almost burned my kitchen down.

Last night, I almost got the kitchen of my dreams.

Kidding! but seriously I almost burned my kitchen down.

I went grocery shopping last night and per usual, when I came in I placed the bags on the stove. The puppies were wailing so I huridly let them out and then tended to the other dogs and went and sat on the deck.

About 10 minutes later I decide to go and put everything away, before I even open the back door I can smell smoke. Silly me thought "someone must be grilling out", when I opened the door, I was hit with an intense odor of buring, melting plastic and food. I look over and smoke is pouring off of the stove top I run over and see that the front eye is on, high. I turn it off and start to open windows to air out the downstairs.

I have no idea how it happened because you have to press down then turn the knob to turn it on, I tried to recreate it but I couldn't. We lost about half of the groceries we had purchased.....

not my best moment.

In other news, I am craving fall. I can not stop thinking about cool crisp days, rustling leaves, sweaters, football, bonfires. Gah! I am so over being hot all the time, plus my fall clothes are so much cuter than my summer ones. Can I get a witness!?!?!?!
I have been trying some new recipes and I am really going to start posting about them. Promise.

Surgery update: Got a letter that I had made it through the first hurdle which I didn't even know was a hurdle. The program director has to approve it (meaning at first glance you do fit the criteria) BEFORE it is sent to off for preapproval, so I guess I got prepreapproved. Now, I wait another week or so to see what the insurance company says.

got to go coffee is ready! I am not drinking it so much for the caffine content as I am for the piping hotness of it. It is freezing down here yo.

240

This is hard number to swallow. A hard number to accept.


For years I have struggled with my weight, I have tried countless diets, exercise plans and all I gained was more weight and a chip on my shoulder. Not to mention after each failure I was pulled further and further in to the dark as to what I should do about my weight, so much so I even turned to buliema as an answer to my problem.

I got a handle on that and can proudly say that I haven't binged or purged for over a year and half!

I didn't want to go to therepy last Monday because I didn't think I had anything to talk about and I didn't want to have to pull for stuff. Kitty knows about my meeting and my intentions regarding the surgery and she listens with a air of caution becaue she doesn't want me to fail. We started talking about what I can do now to make adjustments that will make the life changes nessacary for the surgery more sucessfull and some of the basics were remove myself from a situation that I would generally snack, like watching tv for hours and hours. She suggested watch a show, then get up and do something, then come back and watch something else. I also said that I needed to meal plan better and eat more frequently than I have been. I have the problem of comming home and sitting down to relax then by the time I do eat dinner I am ravenous and I eat 2 big portions. She said this was all good but not the answer she was looking for.

I need to come up with a plan for when I get depressed, sad, angry all my emotional triggers that have me running to food, I have to have a diverson in place so I don't eat.

I couldn't think of anything.

"you don't have anything else that makes you that happy?"

The tears came. She can always make me cry, shes like Oprah.

I realized in that moment how much I had lost myself in food.

I used to be interesting and fun, I used to sing, act, create, explore, enjoy life without food as a sole focus, but now all my joy in life comes from food.

 I do nothing that I used to do. I am not in a choir, nor am I doing anything to keep my insturment in working order, I haven't been on stage for 3 years, and I have reached boarder line hermit status. I am wasting the best years of my life sheltered and chained to food.

She suggested that I start taking voice lessons again or join a choir or better yet take a yoga class. That way I am killing 2 birds with one stone,  I have something to look foward during the week instead of my next meal and I am doing something that is just for me.

It was also discussed what do to about my home life. My husband works hard, he has a physical job and he is outside in the heat so I get his desire to come home and do nothing. The issue is I want to be where he is and partcipate with him so when he sits and vegs, I set sit and veg too. Because he does have a physical job he can snack, not as much as he does, but he can afford too because he is burning far more calories than I am sitting in a chair. The problem this poses is we are completly lop sided in our life styles, he is physical during the day and the evening is his resting time, whereas I am at rest all day and need to up the physical activity at night. This is hard when you need daily support. I know my mom is there to help but I really want my husband to be healthy too and have him on board with a healthier life style.

Kitty asked "what are you going to do when he is sitting on the couch with a bag of chips"

I paused and thought of the only thing I could "I would remove myself from the situation"

It made me sad, to say that I would remove myself from my husbands company. I told him this because there is already little space between us but I know that will close as we get our finances back on track and get in to the swing with both of us working again. But I crave closeness with him even more than food sometimes. So to make a knowing choice to not be around him when he doing his nightly routine is a hard one to make.

I know he supports this decision. He has seen me break down and deteriorate to what I am now, a self conscicence, mean, empty person. When we first met I was the one trying to pull him out of his comfort zone and try new things and now it is reverse.

240 is a big number. And I have accepted that as my number.... right now.

And as much as I tried I can't get out from under its weight anymore. Some days I was positive, I tried to tell myself that I was beautiful, that there is more to me than my fat. But that doesn't work for me, no dose of positive reinforcement can make me feel better about this body. I don't think there is anything wrong with that because this is so much more than it once was to me. Before I was loosing weight to fit a mold that I thought I had to, the one that society put out there. But now I want to fit in to the Katy mold, the one where I felt confident, comfortable, beautiful.

It has taken me a long time to see that my mold, is one of a kind, and that is what I want more than anything now.

Personal statement

Prior to surgery approval you have to fill out an application where they basically want you to lay out for them all your past diet failures, physical ailments and so on. I had no problem filing this out but the last page of the application wanted you to wrtie a personal statement as to why you are asking for the surgery.

This was possibly the hardest piece I have ever written. This has been such a personal struggle for me because my weight issues run so deep and so long that it was hard to choose what to include and how do I word it in a way that gets my point across.

I wanted to share this with you because even if this doesn't happen, I don't get approved or some other reason, it is still a very real possibilty and I want to document the journey. Even if the journey ends before it can really begin.

Here is my personal statement:

I am asking for this surgery because I want to start the life that I should be living.

I have dieted almost every year since I was 13.  I tried the fad diets, low calorie, special foods, protein shakes.  I know it sounds cliché, but if you can think of a diet I probably tried it.  I am an all or nothing thinker, I would go in to these diets gung ho and do really well, adhering to the rules. I like rules and structure so the more to follow the more I liked it.  I would start to lose weight, 20 pounds at the most and the moment I started to add “normal” foods back in, the weight loss would stop and even regress in some instances. I was killing myself for nothing.  There could be no reward because as soon as I began to add regular food, the weight would pile back on.  After years of being on this roller coaster and after coming face to face with what obesity is doing to my body, I decided I needed to take the next step to get the results needed to be happy and most importantly, healthy.

This year has been a challenging year for me, as I have begun to see a drastic increase in the repercussions of my obesity. This year was supposed to be a big year for me.  I quit my full time job to go back to school and get my degree. The new job I found was very labor intensive, and I thought I was ready for the challenge because it was such a different pace than my old job. I was ready for it mentally, but physically I couldn’t do it. Those words taste like vinegar “I couldn’t do it”.  After 3 weeks of 10 hour shifts on my feet I was in such physical pain it warranted me a trip to the ER.  After being given the diagnosis of tendonitis in my feet and ankles, the doctor asked me if there was a desk job that I could do instead.  Since there wasn’t, I was left with the decision to quit my job because physically I couldn’t do it.  I still live with the pain that comes with tendonitis, and now the pain has moved to my left knee. I wonder every day, what joint will be next on the list?  Even now, I have a desk job and sit for most of the day.  However, when I do have to go run an errand I look at the flights of stairs as Everest.  When I reach the top, I am a gasping mess, trying to get my breathing under control and hoping no one notices that my face is flushed, the deep rise and fall of my chest, and the sweat on my forehead.

I will say that I am lucky in the sense that unlike some living with obesity, I am not being treated for any health problems (i.e. diabetes, high blood pressure or high cholesterol), however, every added day I am obese I feel as if I am borrowed time.  Adult onset diabetes runs on both sides of my family and I am thankful that I am not suffering from this disease, but I know it is a very likely fate for me being obese.  One issue that has come to the surface is my infertility.  My husband and I decided in 2010 to start trying for a baby, and month after month we had no result.  I made an appointment with my doctor to make sure everything was in working order.  After the normal intake procedure, I was ushered in to a small room and had a “talking to” about my weight. The doctor said that she wouldn’t recommend infertility testing until I was within a healthy BMI, and I left the office that day, crushed. I knew she was just doing her job, and even though the harsh bite of her words hurt, I knew she was right. If I were to conceive at my present weight I would be putting my life and my unborn child at risk. Being a mother is very important to me and I am willing to put that on hold to have this surgery.  I want to be the best vessel for my child that I can be, and being obese isn’t it. Also, I want to be able to be a role model for my children and how can I prevent them, and encourage them from a life of obesity, while being obese myself? I want to be able to run with them, roll around in the grass with them and currently given my joint issues I couldn’t even walk around the block with them.

The emotional toll that comes with being obese is palpable.  To feel trapped in your body and knowing that this isn’t the person that you are supposed to be. I don’t want to live a life of shame and always having the feeling of being less than. It is exhausting; analyzing every situation I am presented with to make sure my weight won’t be an issue. I have anxiety seeing people for the first time in years, or meeting new people in general. I think they are judging me for my weight and not seeing me.  Isn’t it so easy to judge someone that is obese as being lazy, or a glutton? I have become an expert at mapping my life in such a way that I avoid being confronted with my weight, but in doing so I have alienated myself, my friends and family. I avoid any activity with the word water in it, for fear of a bathing suit being involved.  I avoid theme parks for fear I am too big to fit on the rides, and I avoid being touched by people because I don’t want them to feel how big I am.

I know that I am an emotional/stress eater, and can say that I am addicted to food. I don’t see it as just fuel for my body; I see it as a hug when I am sad, a punching bag when I am angry, and a way out when I am depressed. I do suffer from depression and have been working with Dr. S for the past 5 years to work on these distorted views I have with food, and my body, and work through my depression. Over the years I have taken my creative outlets like music and theater and traded them in for food. My goal is to refocus my energy and work towards breaking my addiction with food. With Dr. S’s help, I am making small strides towards this goal becoming a reality.

I know that this is a lot to ask of someone that doesn’t know me to understand what this would mean for me and how truly ready I am for this. I am ready to put in the work and effort and finally see the positive results I have worked in vain for in the past. I am ready to start living the life I saw for myself and my family, one where I am not busy avoiding life, but one where I am busy experiencing everything it has to offer.

weighty issue

Today at 6pm I will sitting in a room with people very simallar to myself.

Some maybe worse off than me but the story is still the same.

My story is a long and very painful one, a story that I am ready to end.

I am going to a mandatory informational meeting for bariatric surgery here at OSU.

Some will scoff when they read this, think it is a cop out, that I am taking the easy way out.

Some may not think I need the surgery.

I want to say that I am not having the surgery as of today, but that is what this meeting is for, to inform you of this decision and tell you how to get from point A to point B.

I am not even sure how to write this post without it sounding like I am justifiying my decsion but the point is there is nothing to justify.

Here are the facts, I am 110 lbs over weight.

There I said it.

I am currently 240 lbs.

There I said that.

My body for years has been taking the abuse of my weight gain and this year is the first year that I have been really effected by it. When I was in school I really tried to excersice, but it hurt, not to mention I couldn't keep up. I went to a zumba class and can say that if I would have stayed I wouldn't have been able to walk to my car. Most people would say that was the effects of a "great" class but it wasn't like that. It wasn't a good burn or whatever you call it. I could barely hold myself up after 15 min of that class not to mention I couldn't breathe. I had to leave early because I was afraid if anyone caught me gasping for air the way I was they were going to call the squad. I thought it was just that instance but then I found myself breathing heavy after taking the stairs or walking in to work. I devloped tendonitis this year in my feet and ankles, something that still causes me problems. My feet, ankles and knees hurt all the time. I have started to avoid going places where I know I will be standing for long periods of time because of the pain afterwards. I pop anti-imflamatories like they are candy on some days.

I thought it was because of a more serious nature that this was happening to me but in the end it boils down to how would your body react if you where carrying a 110lbs person on your back.

I am ready to not be a prisonner of my own body, I want to be able to run around, dance, jump up and down, Shit, stand without the fear of collapse.

Today I am jittery, I don't know what to expect from this meeting. I mean this could be life changing and that is hard to wrap my head around that this could be me walking to the starting line.

I will let you know how this goes....





*I am only going to talk about the health side of it for now because the emotional aspect of this deserves a post in and of itself.