Saturday, June 26, 2010

I have to update this thing WAY too often.

I think I might have permanent scars because my kitties like to sit on my lap while I write, which I seem to do a lot. Eh, they mean well.
So as I said before, I met with the bariatric surgeon, and he was... not my kind of doctor, shall we say? The VERY first thing I said to him was "I am not saying I am not fat. I know I am, but I have an excessive amount of fluid that showed up very quickly out of nowhere and I am not convinced that a fat-loss surgery can help, so I need to know why this is a viable option." He went on and on about how the forms that I filled out at the info session prove that I am not a good candidate. Why? Because I spoke my mind in answering their stupid, non-specific-enough questions.
Examples:
Did/do you have overweight parents? Yes, but they weren't born that way and they aren't the ones being referred over for major surgery. This is MY life, thanks.

Please check the diets and meds on this list you have tried (followed by a list of fad-diets and drugs that have been either recalled or banned) None. I have never taken a weight loss pill or used a fad-diet. I watch what I eat, and I think the fact that I lost 155lbs and kept it off for 2 years and was continuing to lose until this fluid thing happened, proves that I did the right thing.

So yeah, stuff like that. The surgeon kept going back to me being "on the high end of morbidly obese" due to my high BMI, and I kept telling him that the BMI is bullshit because it IS NOT ALL FAT. So he asked if I had a psychiatrist, I said no, but that I had been seeking counseling on a longer-term after I just finished short-term counseling at the (semi) local rape crisis center and that I'd gladly take under advisement anyone he could suggest. To this he said "That's not my job, but I can't help you until you come to terms with the fact that you are simply morbidly obese." He told me to go back to the nutritionist that sent me to him in the first place (mentioned in previous posts) and that he would put me on drugs.
Right.
Because that will totally fix everything.
Do you know I see about a million commercials daily for new drugs being recalled, killing people, etc etc? Do you know how many of those I have been put on? It is pretty scary.
Anyway, I do what I can and am VERY active when my body lets me be.
I just finished a 4-week beginner's swing class on Wednesday. On Thursday, I am pretty sure we can count my commute as exercise, since I was wandering around blindly to find the entrance to the train station, and then I was forced to wait for half an hour for the bus in torrential downpours with no jacket and no umbrella in a rather heavy, long dress and then walk a half a mile... I think carrying that extra weight added to my workout....
Friday (yesterday) I went to a city dance party. My friend and I started it up. It was supposed to start at X time, and theer was music, but no people, so we said "screw it" and got in the middle of the street and started dancing and yelling for others to join in. 3 hours straight of non-stop dancing, then a quick bite, then I walked from the store to my friend's house, which I didn't realize was about 2 miles... then stairs... then more dancing.
Normally I wouldn't put that stuff here, but I think that it needs to be documented that I AM an active person. I am sick of these quackpot doctors blaming laziness for my weight.
I walked 6-7 miles the day I turned into a human water balloon.
I have no idea what my cholesterol is like right now. I haven't been able to afford the fish oil capsules. Insurance won't cover natural products. They will only cover the DRUGS, which almost killed me. Wonderful.

Moving right along...
I met with the retina fellow last Friday and he said he thought it was time for a vitrectomy and to follow up with my retina doc soon. I did that on... Wednesday, and he agreed. Not only that, but he said that at the same time as the vitrectomy, he would remove my cataract on the left eye, and put in an implant. Kind of scary... I went for a test in which I had to lay down, have my eyes propped open, water poured on them and left there, and then lights shined through the water. It was rather uncomfortable.
I have to go in for an Avastin injection next week, and pre-op stuff, and then the following week with me my surgery. Man, do I wish I had decent pillows and/or a comfortable couch.

Anyway, I have typed about as much as I can for now. I think that sort of sums up things as they are now.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

I should post something...

I am very overwhelmed.
Right now, my head and ears are killing me and I am dizzy upon returning from a concert at which I was seated in the balcony. I honestly wonder if that has something to do with it. I was dizzy the moment I looked down, and almost fell twice on the stairs.

Anyway, I went to the "info session" for gastric bypass and then I went to see the surgeon a week later and he basically said that I am just a morbidly obese crazy person.

He didn't use those exact words, but pretty damn close. I will write more when I can.

I also had an appointment with the retina fellow on Friday. He thinks the vitrectomy may have to happen soon. I am assuming I will hear from MY retina doc's office later on today to schedule a follow-up so he can make that determination.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

I really don't know.

I am fighting.
Every day, I fight.
I am losing my strength.
Rather, I am not gaining it back as quickly as I would like to.
I am depressed.
I am doing everything I can to stay positive, and keep fighting.
It might help if friends and family would actually do things with me so that I didn't feel so damn alone all of the time.
My visiting nurse did not show or call today, and I was given a "phone discharge" from physical therapy, which I think was uncalled for and disrespectful.
Oh, and the last time the nurse DID show, she said I might not ever get my full lung capacity back.
What kind of shit is that?
I mean, it may be true- but she didn't give me ANY positive sort of anything- just a plain old "Yeah, you might have trouble breathing for the rest of your life."
Not cool.