Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Good enough

A friend of mine shared the following image on Facebook a few days ago and it's resonated with me ever since:

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First of all, can we all agree on the Melissa McCarthy love? She is so awesome. I love her to death. And in this instance, she is totally spot on.

So many of us who go through dramatic weight loss think we'll be pleased when we get to the "end" of our journeys. We think if we can just lose the weight, we will finally accept the person staring back at us from the mirror. Of course, that's not always the case. We do look and feel better, but I know I speak for myself and others when I say some of us go, "Is that it? Is this what I looked like underneath all that? Really?" So we pick. And piss. And moan.

"My stomach is horrible."
"I would kill for your thighs."
"I need $100,000 worth of plastics!"
"God, my bones stick out now! They hurt!"
"How did that woman lose more weight than me and look that good and I look like a freak??"
"Oh no....I don't look great. I still have 10 more pounds to lose."
"Now my nose is too big for my face."
"Where did these knobby knees come from??"
"I have a small bump one millimeter from my left big toenail that's bothering me. Maybe I need more plastics."

I could go on and on, but you get the drift.

The point is, after losing weight, we transform from fat chicks bitching about our weight to normal-weight chicks bitching about....everything. "Normal" women are notorious for complaining about their image and swatting away compliments like flies. We are no different.

When is good enough, good enough? As Melissa points out, where does it end?

I'm guilty of this myself! I've written in this very blog about some of the statements I'm listing here. Do I think I look better after losing 250 pounds? Yes. Do I think I look good? Not really. And I'm starting to worry that I'm putting too much pressure on this tummy tuck. I will not look perfect when it's done, in much the same way that the gastric bypass didn't make my life perfect, either. NO ONE looks perfect, and even if WE think someone does, trust me - that person can tell you about his or her 100 physical flaws they themselves see.

Until we focus on the inside, the outside will never measure up. I'm not talking about 25 pounds of excess skin. That's a legitimate health concern in some cases and should be dealt with however the individual sees fit. Some people are fine with it. More power to 'em! But for the most part, we have to come to terms with our own imperfections and embrace them as part of our unique self! Yeah, I know...what a bunch of hokey self-help crap. Well, not really. It is true, but very difficult to execute in the real world. Some of us may never get there. All we can do is try.

I will if you will!

Sunday, July 14, 2013

This is a test. This is not a test.

Ok, are you ready?

In my last post, I talked about how we sent my PS the check for my tummy tuck via Purolator on July 2 since the PS's assistant was having a fit and insisted they needed the money right away. After we got back to the house, I called the office and told her the money had been sent per her instructions. I had an appointment to see the PS and do my pre-op testing on July 4, but she told me when I called - after I'd already sent the money - that the PS would be out of town on a family emergency and would have to re-schedule my appointment for the 11th. Ok, no problem. No mention of the entire office being closed on Thursday and Friday.

Erich told me the money wasn't coming out of the account, so I tracked the package on Tuesday the 9th. Apparently, Purolator tried repeatedly to deliver the checks but there was no one in the office.

Can you say furious?

There were repeated messages in the tracking information about "attempted delivery/address invalid or incomplete" along with normal-looking entries about attempted deliveries and no one being in the office. I called Purolator immediately, because the address is perfect on my shipping receipt. The woman I spoke with said to ignore the incomplete address errors and they would attempt delivery once more, on Wednesday the 10th, and I should call to make sure someone would be there. If they couldn't complete delivery on Wednesday the 10th, the package would be sent back to me.

So I called (Tuesday the 9th).

Did I mention the PS's assistant (PSA) is pretty much psycho? I did? Ok then.

Oh...she left at noon on Wednesday the 3rd and the whole office was shut down Thursday and Friday. And furthermore...she "told me the office would be closed". OMG........I kinda lost it. A little bit. I couldn't help it. SHE was the one insisting I send the money via Purolator (which cost me almost $20) then she LEFT THE OFFICE?? I told her at the time she would receive it on Wednesday the 3rd...and SHE LEFT AT NOON??? Then shut down for two days? Are you kidding me? And she didn't tell me the doctor was leaving until AFTER I'd already sent the money! She was really trying to pin this on me. She assured me she would be in the office all day Wednesday the 10th to receive the package.

I figured I'd ask her if they received my blood work and ECG I had done here in town on June 28. No. OMG.....ok. So I called the local lab. They don't give out results and gave me a 1-800 number that the doctor's office would need to call and have the tests sent again. So I call PSA back and give her the number.

The next day (the 10th), I was getting ready to call her again to see if she'd received the check when the phone rang. It was almost 2:30pm. She hadn't received the check yet and "you said it would be here by 10:30 and it's not here yet".

What I wanted to say was: "Are you on drugs or what?"

But instead, I assured her I told her no such thing, that I had NO idea when it would be delivered, only during business hours. I asked her if she'd received my tests yet. Silence.

"You know," I said, "remember, I gave you the 1-800 number yesterday to call about my tests?....." Oh...she had "other patients" and hadn't called yet. I am really deep breathing at this point. I mean, my appointment was at 10:30am (which is maybe where she got that delivery time...I dunno) the next day. No payment and no tests.

"Is there any point in me coming to see him tomorrow at all?" I asked. She said yes, that we needed to "get going" (yes indeed WE did) and assured me she would have all the tests for him to look over by the morning. Ok. I told her I'd also bring the checkbook, and if for some reason she didn't have the Purolator package by then, I'd write her another check.

I leave for work with a raging headache and slight homicidal tendencies.

My appointment the next day was fairly uneventful, but looonnng. The check never came, so I wrote her a new one. More on that later, in another entry.

I was at that hospital from 10:15am until almost 3pm. I didn't really know what to expect at all. I asked the PSA on the phone what the pre-op testing would entail, and she wasn't very specific. Bloodwork, ECG....but I already had that done. So I arrived with my proverbial thumbs up my ass. Which would come in handy, given that one of the tests involved me swabbing my own rectum for some sort of bacteria-resistant virus they wanted to make sure I didn't have. Oh yes. A joy.

While I was still in the PS's waiting room, the PSA handed me a packet with a bunch of forms to fill out. Now, you are supposed to get this packet, take it home and fill everything out, then bring it back to the hospital. I understand things were happening so quickly in my case that it wasn't possible for it to work out that way. However....again, I think the PSA should've told me - especially when I specifically ASKED her - what sorts of things I'd need to fill out these forms. I had most of the information on me, but some I didn't. I guess the most important thing I didn't have were my supplements in the original bottles. Didn't know I needed it, didn't think about it. So....I had to sit in the pharmacist's office while she Googled everything I was telling her and had me identify the exact brand/dosage of all the many vitamins I take every day. Again...a joy.

I saw the PS, which was routine, then the PSA led me down to the basement and the pre-op testing area. I would need to speak to a second doctor, a pharmacist, an anesthesiologist and a nurse. They all said I was fit as a fiddle, ready for major surgery.

The doctor questioned my assertion that I had "diet-controlled diabetes," which is what my family doctor calls it. "You don't have diabetes," he said. "Your sugar is perfect." I got the feeling he thought the adage of 'once you have diabetes, you have it forever' was old-fashioned. My blood pressure was elevated in the nurse's office (no surprise given how pissed off I still was, and anxious because I was certain now that I'd be late for work) and is often slightly high when checked at my family doctor's office. This pre-op doctor said "No, what you need is a bigger cuff. If the cuff isn't right, you will get a falsely high BP." Hmm...I knew I needed a big cuff pre-op, but thought I was ok now. He said no (there's a lot of extra skin on my arms). He took my BP again with a bigger cuff and it was normal. I'll have to remember that!

So it's all done (again). I am to be at the hospital at 10am on August 12, the surgery is 12:30. Shit just got real.

Want a final psycho-PSA story? Ok. She takes me downstairs to the pre-op testing area and has me sit in a chair, telling me they will call me when they're ready for me. So I sit. And sit. Finally, a staffer comes over and asks me why I'm there. I tell her and she checks the system....I am nowhere to be found. Not me, not my surgery, nothing.

"Who is your surgery with?" I tell her. "Oh," she says, "well...that's (PSA's name) for you."
I smile. "Yes. It sure is!
"You know (PSA's name)?"
"I sure do!"
She laughed. "Well, then we both know!"

And we both laugh. Because it's either you laugh or you cry, right? I think I feel sorrier for those poor people who have to deal with her every day. Eventually, I won't have to see her again!

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Four years on, the plastics begin

Today is what I like to call my rebirth-day, or, as it's known in the weight-loss surgery community, my "surgiversary." Four years ago today, I had RNY gastric bypass surgery and my life has never been the same. I won't bore you with all the details of how much better I feel now, how I can do things I never thought possible. It's all true, but I would just be repeating myself! It never gets old, though, this thing called LIFE. It's more than I ever thought it could be. To date, I have had ZERO complications, only freedom...from pain, illness and the bonds of my own body. And I wouldn't change a thing except that I wasted so much time.

A before and after (click to enlarge):
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For those who are interested - you can go back and check out where my brain was 4 years ago here and here.

In my last entry, I mentioned that I got my tummy tuck surgery date (August 12) and I had an appointment to see my plastic surgeon (PS) on July 4th. That appointment got moved to July 11, so I'll likely do another update afterwards.

I heard about this surgeon from my bariatric support group. A lot of fellow patients have been to him - indeed, his assistant said about 85% of his patients are of the bariatric variety. I like him very much but his assistant...lorda mercy. Honestly, speaking to her is a chore. And even sitting in the waiting room, listening to her talk to other patients, tries MY patience. I don't tolerate stupidity and rudeness very well. I think I've mentioned this before - she needs another profession.

The whole plastics experience has been a whirlwind since April, my first visit to his office. At that time, I was given a quote for his services, far above what I knew some of my friends to have paid. This was surprising, but prices go up so...whatever. I soon got approval from OHIP for my panniculectomy and we went from there. The coverage for the panniculectomy is minimal; I still have to pay thousands of dollars for the "upgrade" to a full tummy tuck (tightening and repair of the abdominal muscles and removal of more tissue and skin). I went back to see him last month and was informed the procedure had gone up another $1,000. Not only that, this new quote was only good for 6 weeks. If I didn't pay this new, inflated price right away, the price could go up again....and again... I had no idea when the surgery would be, so I had two choices: Pay right now or wait and take my chances the price could go up thousands of dollars by the time I got a surgery date. Oh...and we had to pay in full two months before the surgery date...whenever that would be.

I burst into tears in the parking garage. Erich and I had been putting money aside for this, but $1,000 was a lot of money. Plus, I had tremendous feelings of guilt. There was so much more we could do with this money. Many other things needed our attention and I felt bad enough about spending thousands of dollars on a tummy tuck. Yes, I needed it, for medical, cosmetic and mostly psychological reasons. But still. If I hadn't allowed myself to reach nearly 500 pounds in the first place, none of this would be necessary. I feel a LOT of self-loathing and guilt about that.

My husband would hear none of this. "I'll handle it," is all he kept telling me as I cried and battled a near-nonstop headache for the rest of the week. My first thought was to sell the Camaro he bought for me when I lost half my body weight. He said "NO. Absolutely not." Alrighty then! He was adamant that I have the surgery ASAP and he would find a way to pay for it.

The surgery costs $5500 (starting out at $4500 and going up $1000). And we didn't have it all. Not yet.

You might ask me why I didn't try another surgeon. Well, this PS is very well known in the weight-loss community as being extremely affordable and willing to work with OHIP coverage. I had a nightmare experience with a PS a couple years ago that I detailed here. That PS wanted more than twice this amount to do the same surgery. I'd also heard price horror stories about other surgeons. So while we were presently scraping together cash, it wouldn't be as much as other prices I'd heard about.

I'd told the PS assistant to look to October when she asked me when I wanted to have the surgery. She also asked me how much notice I'd need for a date. I told her two weeks. I have a fairly new job and wanted to give my employer some notice. I knew we still needed to scrape together the money but I was really worried and upset. To keep the cost down, we would need to pay in full by July 30 or, like I said, risk the ever-escalating price. I compared it to a kitten chasing a ball of yarn the just kept unraveling and the kitten never catching up. If we didn't pay soon, we'd just keep chasing the higher price.

Soon, she called and asked me if August 12 would be acceptable. I was floored, flabbergasted. I'd originally thought this wouldn't happen until after the new year. Of course, this new date would mean we'd need to pay NOW. In fact, she wanted me to courier a check that same day! Um, no. No can do. This was on a Friday afternoon; Monday was Canada Day. I told her we would have to make arrangements to get the money together and send it to her on Tuesday. She was pretty upset by this and put me on hold (needs a new job). But when she came back on, she agreed.

Again, I was very upset about the money aspect. Erich again told me, "I'll have it by Tuesday. Don't worry." He doesn't like to discuss things with me because he just wants to take care of it, but it sometimes just makes me worry even more. In his mind, keeping the details from me protects me. Sometimes that's true, but in this instance it just made me crazy. LOL! Eventually, we got the money together and sent it in via Purolator. It made me physically ill. Excited, nervous, guilty, scared, you name it.

So it's done. Paid for in full and scheduled. During my last appointment, I asked the PS how much skin and tissue he thought he would be taking off. The PS in London told me maybe 3-5 pounds. That seemed an impossibly low number and made me even more dubious of her at the time. Well, the new PS said "At least 6 kilos...about 14 pounds." I literally could not speak. While I knew I had a lot of excess skin to get rid of, I didn't think it was that much. Maybe he's over-estimating. I'm trying not to get my hopes up, I really am. He also assured me this surgery will be "life-changing"....again? *deep breath* Ok. Strapping in for another life change. Erich jokes that this will be his 4th wife: He was married before me then to the pre-op me, the post-op me, and now the tummy tuck me. LOL!

I've had this stomach for so long, I don't know what it's like to be normal. Ever since I can remember, I've shopped for shirts long enough to cover it and loose enough to hide it. Ever since I can remember, I've had to lift it up in the shower and wear baby powder to help keep the rashes at bay. It's actually worse since I've lost weight and it's like an empty bag. I've taken to wearing a "looser, everyday" Spanx just to keep it from moving around and causing chafing. But even "super-Spanx" doesn't make it disappear. I know I'll never feel truly successful until I get it off me. And I can't wait to see how this affects me, both physically and emotionally.

Monday, July 1, 2013

Busy, busy, busy!

Since working afternoon shift, I don't seem to have time to do much. It's all I can manage to get up at a reasonable hour and run errands, go to the gym, clean the house, do laundry, etc. I need to do all these things BEFORE I go to work because while I am a bit of a night owl, I'm not much in the mood to run around all over the place at 1 a.m. So this blog has been very neglected. When I logged in just now, I couldn't believe it had been APRIL since I last submitted an entry. Wow.

Well....a lot has happened since then! I have been extremely busy and things are happening fast and furious. Here's a "quick" rundown. As always, click on the thumbnails for the full photos.

May:
I took my Canadian citizenship test. They only give you about a week's notice! I studied a lot and felt pretty good about the outcome. The day after the test, I participated in a local Run-A-Lung 5K event to raise awareness and funds for organ donation in Ontario. A young girl named Kayla Baker gained local fame through her efforts for this cause - she herself needed a double lung transplant. She had been scheduled to be at the event, but received a single lung unexpectedly a few weeks beforehand. She was there via Skype, and the community really came together for her. I was still not 100% recovered from the 5K RUN, so I opted to walk it. As I mentioned before, I don't think I'll be doing any more running. Too hard on my body.
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In my previous blog about my initial visit to Dr. Nan's office, I mentioned that he'd told me to call back in 4 weeks. So...I did that. His assistant (NOT a people person; she has the wrong job) got pretty irate with me and said it takes her 4 weeks to submit paperwork to OHIP, then another 6-8 weeks to hear back. I was like WTF?? Seriously. WTF? I was pretty upset about this, but tried to brush it off. All I could do was wait.

Erich and I celebrated our 12th anniversary in Toronto. We went to the CN Tower - Erich, who has lived here for 30 years, had never been up to the top - and had dinner at Medieval Times. What a wonderful day. When I do a lot of walking, I am still so grateful that I can! I don't think I'll ever forget how far I've come and take movement for granted. It's such a wonderful thing to be able to live your life. It truly is a gift. It had been about 11 years since I'd been to the tower, and at that time, I refused to step on the glass floor. I was always afraid things would break away with me...and they wanted me to step on a glass floor?? Were they nuts?? But this time I did it.
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June:
The very next weekend, we set out for Niagara Falls and the Women's Half Marathon (21.1K). Yes, that's right. I did it!! I mentioned it briefly back in March, but I signed up in February. When I posted about the race on my bariatric surgery support group's Facebook page, it sort of took on a life of its own and several of us signed up to do it together. Some people dropped out over time for one reason or another, but a few of us really went down there and gave it hell! Of course we all walked it. Again...no running for me.

I was not able to train properly for this race because I was still battling physical pain from the run I did in March. My knees and back were taking me back to my 450-pound days with the way they were bothering me. I was at the chiropractor several times and went through an entire bottle of Tylenol Arthritis. I was actually a little worried - why wasn't I bouncing back? And I had a half marathon to train for!! So I was very nervous about the event. Plus, due to some noisy neighbors at our hotel, I only got about 3 hours of sleep the night before.

For the first 10-12K, it was fairly easy. I was trotting along, music pounding in my ears. There were people cheering us on all along the course. Very nice. When I got to about 18K, I hit a wall. I got dizzy and my stomach felt very upset. There were medical personnel watching us and all I could think was "There is no way I've walked 18K to wimp out and be taken out of the race. Straighten the hell up and FINISH." I talked myself off that wall and kept going. It wasn't easy and I slowed down quite a bit, but I finished well under the 4-hour time limit. When I saw Erich at the finish line - and a row of firemen, who were on hand to give us our medals - it was all worth it. I swear, there is a high that comes with crossing a finish line unlike anything. It's so fantastic and yes, very addictive. Granted, I've never taken any drug in my life, ever, but this is pretty damn cool.

I had another first right afterwards. Massage students were there providing free massages to participants. I decided to take advantage and waited in line. The tables looked pretty flimsy to me, as they always had and why I'd never entertained getting a massage when I was so obese. Again, there's the notion that I will break anything I sit/stand/lie on. Plus, I would've been very self conscious having someone put his or her hands on me. I would think THEY would think, "UGH...I have to touch this disgusting person??" But I tried to push past that because I knew my body would benefit from the massage. I climbed on the table carefully and it didn't break. The tiny little student went to work on me and I didn't die of embarrassment. At least, not until my husband mentioned how my excess skin & flab was jiggling around all over the place as she manipulated me. Thanks, hon!! I so appreciate that. Sometimes he doesn't think. Ah well. I'm sure the massage helped; I was surprised by how UNsore I was. I had been pretty sure I was going to have to call in sick to work the next day, but nope. I was fine. One small blister and a bit of soreness in my shoulders, of all things. Some of us have already signed up for next year's race.
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I found out I passed the citizenship test and took my oath of citizenship on June 10! I am officially a dual citizen now. NO, I didn't have to give up my U.S. citizenship. I've had about 1,000 people ask me that. LOL! The night before the ceremony, I found a red dress and wore that with two pairs of Spanx so I'd look somewhat normal. Kinda crazy to think this is what I might look like post-tummy tuck. You can see in the third photo from the half marathon (minus Spanx) how desperately it's needed.
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And...the next weekend, we were off to London for the annual Father's Day 5K for Prostate Cancer Canada. My father is a survivor, so I do this one for him each year. It's not the most organized race, but I'll do it because it's an important cause.
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And...the next weekend (LOL), we traveled to Ohio for my 25th high school reunion. I have a lot of my old classmates on Facebook and was looking forward to connecting with them in person. Well....most of them didn't show, which was disappointing. However, I did have fun talking with those who did. It was a good weekend all around.
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That first photo is important for the following reason...and since I've told her the story, I'll now "out" her and remind you all of a blog I posted a while back about my experiences with bullying. The woman in the photo with me is named Rana, and Rana was the little girl who took up for me in 6th grade science class when a bully tried to cut me down to size. When I told her this story at the reunion, she of course didn't remember it but was so pleased I shared it with her and gave me a big hug. She has been one of my cheerleaders on Facebook and I know she is so happy for me now. The irony of her career as a personal trainer speaks to the kind-hearted person she was and is - she wants to help people. It's her nature.

I have a lot more to tell you! My tummy tuck surgery has been schedule for...wait for it...AUGUST 12!! I am excited beyond belief but pretty nervous. How that date came about is a blog all by itself so I'll save that story for after July 4th, which is when I go see Dr. Nan again and start my pre-op testing. So I'll talk to you soon!!