My Liver is Sexy

I'm going to tell you right now that I am nearly 300 pounds. There it is. And if I weren't nearly 300 pounds, today would have made me change my mind. I spent the day like a wealthy old person. I was at the Dr's all day and spent $565.00 on all the fun I had. I was in Denton at 9:00 for an appointment with my general practitioner, Dr. Kozura. I'm on two medicines that are in capsule form. Capsules no worky with lap band so had to get them switched or dump in applesauce to eat. Found out the funky spots on my leg are not cancer, but sun spots. How that happened to my ivory skin, I am not certain.

From Denton, headed to Frisco to get Susan and head to surgeons office. I was in his office 5 hours. FIVE fun filled hours people. I hope my joy is coming across. It was about an hour with the surgeon. Here's the deal, because I knew the surgery is coming, I have been drinking beer and eating lots of bread. I've gained 11 pounds since March. Not shocking to me but seemed to be a big deal with the weight loss surgeon. It's as if it's his life's work or something. So okay, I have to lose 11 pounds before the surgery so that he knows my liver will be soft and he can lift it out of the way to get to my stomach. Apparently, there are health issues with being obese. A sexy, stiff liver is one of them. If I've not lost the weight on the day of the surgery, he won't do it. Picky thing, but it's his world and if he doesn't think he is man enough to handle lifting a stiff liver, I guess I'll help him along with that.

Waiting two weeks to get my liver soft would put the surgery near the move date. Dr. Fox, the surgeon, says I can't even push anything heavy for two weeks after surgery. So--after a couple of discussions, we set the surgery for the 16th of July. That will give me a week to settle a bit into the apartment and two weeks to heal and adjust before going back to work. I have to wait for the surgery center to phone before I know if they'll accept partial payment for my copay. I have around $2,000. and it will be around $3,000. according to the insurance girl in the office. Please say a prayer about that for me. Oh, just pray for me in general, would you please?

I saw the nutritionist next. My stomach will be the size of a small lemon. We talked for an hour about what eating is going to be like and what puking is going to be like. Oh I will puke as I'm learning to eat--gonna happen. It's not normal puke according to the nutritionist. It's slime. Your body is coating the food caught in your esophagus with slime so it will move. The slime won't even get through so lots of slime, then the piece of food will pop out. Sexy, huh? The rest of what she said is boring, food stuff. The basics are, after a weird newborn's diet for the first few weeks, 7 bites of food for a meal. 3 bites protein, 3 bites vegetable and 1 bite carbohydrates. Then, I will be full. AMAZING! This is why this is the tool for me to be able to diet. I'll be full at a reasonable amount. It will take a couple of months to get to the perfect band fill (with saline) for me to be perfectly satisfied with that amount. They call that "the sweet spot". You know good and well, that in my silly brain, I thought, "Oh, I've got your sweet spot," but I was too busy wondering why the nutritionist was so fat to say it.

Next is the psychologist. My appointment with him begins with a 300 questions test followed by a 250 question test. Question like, "The whole world is against me," or "I hear voices telling me to do bad things," or "Sex has gotten me into trouble." So I lied a little. Sometimes it's okay to lie. After the tests I met with the Dr. I liked him. Not enough to continue to pay him $300 an hour to talk with him, but he is likable. He informed me that they have now found that people who are on Prozac or Lexapro for a period over two years gain 20 pounds a year for every year they're on it past the first two years. After the great depression of 1998, I was told that I would probably have to be on a light dosage for the rest of my life. This Dr. said he'd have told his patients the same thing back then, because they didn't realize. Can you believe that? He and I discussed what had happened when I tried to stop it one summer. No biggie, just a dream one night of a suicide attempt where only my mother was protesting. When Mom heard that, she said it was time to go back on medicine. The Dr. yesterday said we have to ween me very slowly off the medicine and he doesn't want to do that now because of all the issues going on with the surgery.

As you can imagine, I was whipped last night. I was left with doubts, regrets, fear, exhaustion and wanting my mother to hug me. This lap band is not a magic cure at all. It's going to be a great deal of work for me, but the other option is to be a fat chick. I'd resigned myself to being a fat chick even though I really don't want to be one. It's just there seemed to be no other choice. It's either diet pills and running two miles a day (both of which kept me crazy) or be a fat chick. Might as well be a confident, happy one if you're going to be stuck being one. It's getting to the point now though where I can see myself naked on a mattress begging someone to bring me a grilled cheese sandwich. I don't want that, so let's do this. Let's pinch down my stomach where I can't eat like a normal person so that I can be happy again. Don't worry, a lot of this is PMS.